Darkness the Color of Snow (24 page)

BOOK: Darkness the Color of Snow
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He calls the police department and asks for Gordy. Pete tells him that Gordy's with the prosecutor and can't be interrupted.

“Channel Eight was here. They told me a witness saw me throw Matt into the road. They called me a murderer.”

“That's bullshit,” Pete says. “We have the driver. He's confessed. And we've got him. Gordy's talking with the prosecutor right now. He killed Matt Laferiere. I don't know what the fuck they're talking about. You want me to have Gordy call you when he's done?”

“Yeah,” Ronny says. “I need to talk with Gordy.”

As soon as he hangs up, he calls Nessa. Her phone goes immediately to voice mail. She's taking a final, he thinks. Then he looks at the clock next to the bed. It's three twenty. Matt Laferiere's funeral is going on right now. Is Nessa at the funeral? Would she go to the funeral? He goes back into the living room and peeks through the curtains. There's no one there. Still, they could be waiting for him downstairs, by his truck. How could they call him a murderer?

“I
SAW THEM
when I came over the hill,” Sean Gross says. “There was this guy in the road. I don't know. I hit the brakes, but suddenly he was in front of me, and I hit him. I couldn't stop. I couldn't swerve around him. He was just there, and I hit him. And I saw the other guy on the side of the road. The cop. It was like something was going on. I don't know. My car went into a spin. I was scared. Scared as hell. Scared shitless.”

“What do you mean, ‘something was going on'?” Julie Summersby asks.

“I don't know. A guy in the road. And a cop at the side of the road. It was like something was happening, and suddenly I was in the middle of it. It was really fast. It happened really fast.”

“Were you speeding? Were you drunk?”

“He doesn't have to answer those questions. He's telling you what he saw. That's all he's going to talk about. What he saw,” Rob Weingarten says.

“You tried to avoid him?”

“Yeah. But I couldn't. He was just right there in front of me.”

Julie asks. “Was he standing up? Running? Walking?”

“I saw him straighten up. Like he was trying to stand up. Like he had fallen and was getting back up. That's when I felt the car hit him.”

“Why didn't you stop? Didn't you know you had to stop?” Julie asks.

“I was scared. Really, really scared.”

“He hit him,” Rob Weingarten says. “That's it. There was no time to stop, no time to avoid hitting him. Matt Laferiere was in the road, right in front of him.”

“How fast were you going?” Julie asks.

“No. He can't answer that,” Weingarten says.

“Not that fast,” Sean Gross says. “I don't know. Fifty? Sixty? I don't know.”

“OK. That's it. No more questions. Are you going to charge him?”

“Chief Hawkins has already charged him with leaving the scene. We have a fatality, though. That looks like vehicular manslaughter to me.”

“But you have no proof of that. My client wasn't drunk or speeding. The fatality was an accident. You can't win that one.”

“I think we can. We have a death here. Juries don't like to leave that hanging. I think we can get a conviction.”

“I think you're bluffing.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Can I say something?” Gordy asks.

Julie Summersby raises her hand to stop him, but Gordy pushes on. “I have an officer that some ­people think is responsible for Matthew Laferiere's death. He isn't, but I'm getting a lot of pressure on this. I would like to get my officer cleared. Mr. Gross's testimony could clear him of that.”

“My client can't testify to that. He didn't see enough to do that.”

“He saw that there was a struggle. That corroborates his story,” Gordy says.

“But he didn't see a struggle, only the aftermath.”

“He said that it looked like Matthew Laferiere slipped and fell. He could testify to that.”

“Not if there's a charge of vehicular manslaughter he couldn't.”

“If manslaughter's off the table, he would testify?”

“He could do that.”

“And plead to leaving the scene?”

“Would you agree to that?” Weingarten asks Sean Gross.

“I don't want to go to jail.”

“I can't guarantee that,” Julie says.

“What can you do?”

“I think we can ask for the minimum if he testifies in any action, criminal or civil, and pleads.”

Weingarten looks to Sean Gross. “I'll go to jail?” Gross asks.

“For a year or two. Maybe less. We wouldn't argue against a reduced sentence.”

“I don't think you're going to get a better deal,” Weingarten tells him.

“It wasn't my fault.”

“Maybe killing Matthew Laferiere wasn't your fault, but leaving the scene of the accident most certainly was. You're going to have to answer for that.”

“Can I confer with my client on this? In private?”

Julie nods and she and Gordy leave the room.

“I
DON'T WANT
any taint of suspicion on my officer,” Gordy tells Julie. “He should have called for backup. No question. But he did everything else right.”

“They'll take the deal,” Julie says. “Your officer is in the clear.”

R
OB
W
EINGARTEN COMES
out into the office. “He'll plead and testify. The manslaughter charge goes away, and you recommend leniency.”

Julie nods. “I can't guarantee this. It's Kent Blythe's call. But I'll recommend the deal.”

“OK. But those are our terms. No manslaughter, leniency.”

“I think that will fly,” Julie says. “That will be my recommendation to Kent.”

W
HEN THE LAWYERS
are gone, Gordy goes back into his office. The town council meeting is tomorrow night. He will give a report on the last month. There will be discussion of the Matt Laferiere incident, but he feels like the weight is off. Martin Glendenning and his crew will scream, but he and Ronny will be all right. By the weekend, everything will be back to normal. He picks up the folder Pete has prepared for the departmental report to the council. He starts to read the reports, closes the folder, puts it in his briefcase, and leaves the office.

“We're good,” he tells Pete. “And thanks for doing the report for me.”

“What's the story on our friend here?” Pete nods toward Sean Gross.

“He's pleading to leaving the scene. And he will testify in any civil case that Laferiere was struggling with Ronny. He'll back up Ronny's account.” Sean Gross looks up, then returns to staring at the wall.

“We'll keep him here until Kent Blythe agrees to the deal, then we can move him over to Warrentown for arraignment.

“Works for me,” Pete says.

“Works for all of us,” Gordy agrees. He walks over to the holding cell. “I know you wanted to walk on all of this, but this is a good deal for you. You're going to be OK.”

Gross looks up and nods, glumly.

F
OR THE FIRST
time in months, Gordy's glad to be home, empty as it is. He's cooked himself a dinner tonight, watched a little TV, and he feels like things are starting to return to normal, as if life without Bonita could ever be normal. He also feels something else. It's a tiny bit of happiness. He senses he can be happy again. It won't be for quite a while yet, he knows, but it now seems possible that he will someday.

Before he gets ready for bed, he sits on the sofa and takes out the report and begins to read over it. Then he gets up and turns on the TV. He's not halfway through the report when he becomes conscious of what's being said on the television.

“We have a breaking development in the hit-­and-­run accident in Lydell that we first reported a few days ago. Renee Lawson has the story.”

“Thanks, Larry. A major development in the Lydell hit-­and-­run story. Matthew Laferiere of Lydell was struck and killed Sunday night during a routine stop by Lydell police. Mr. Laferiere was being detained by Officer Ronald Forbert when a scuffle took place and Mr. Laferiere ended up on Route 417, where he was struck by a hit-­and-­run driver. Now a witness has come forward with a shocking account of what really happened that night. The witness wishes not to be identified, and we have altered his voice to conceal his identity. You can hear for yourself what he says he saw that night.”

The picture switches to a shot of Renee Lawson seated in a darkened room. The picture is shot from over the shoulder of a figure seen from the back. The lighting is dim.

“Can you tell us what you saw during the traffic stop?”

“I saw the cop throw Matt Laferiere into the road,” the figure says in a gravelly voice.

“Can you give us your account of what happened?”

“Officer Forbert was putting Matt under arrest. He had one cuff on him when they began to struggle. Matt was complaining about being handcuffed, and the cop, the officer, pushed him up against the Jeep and pulled his arm down hard. Matt yelled and turned back toward the officer.”

“And they struggled?”

“Yeah.”

“And then?”

“The officer had a hold of Matt's arm and he pulled him real hard and threw him by the arm onto the road. The car came over a hill and hit Matt while he was in the road.”

“Did Mr. Laferiere slip on the ice as the Lydell police have reported?”

“No. The officer threw him.”

“And you saw this as it happened?”

“Yes.”

T
HE PICTURE RETURNS
to a shot of Renee Lawson. “Larry, we tried to get the Lydell police to comment on this allegation, but the police department would not return our calls, and the officer in question, Ronald Forbert, refused to comment.”

It switches to a tape of Renee Lawson at Ronny's door, holding a microphone to the door. A voice, Ronny's voice, behind the door says, “Go away.” Then Renee Lawson again. “Mr. Forbert, are you a murderer?”

Back to Renee Lawson standing in the snow outside Ronny's apartment. “And, Larry, there's more. A group of Lydell citizens, led by the victim's parents, is asking for the town to disband the police department. I talked with the parents earlier today.” They switch to a shot of Roger and Gayle Laferiere. “Mr. Laferiere,” Renee asks, “is it true you want the town of Lydell to disband the police department?”

“The officer, Forbert, he killed my son. Over a broken headlight. A headlight, and he killed Matt.”

“And the police are protecting him,” Gayle Laferiere says. “In cold blood. Ronny Forbert killed my son, and the police department is trying to cover it up. They can't get away with this. I want justice for my son.”

Back to Renee Lawson. “I talked today with town council president Martin Glendenning.” They switch to a shot of Martin Glendenning standing in front of his house. “Mr. Glendenning, can you comment on this citizens' drive to disband the police department?”

“Renee, we've suffered a great tragedy here in Lydell. And emotions are running high. ­People are very upset that something like this could happen in Lydell.”

“Are you considering disbanding the police department?”

“That would seem premature. There is an investigation going on. The police are investigating the actions of their own officer. I don't know that there is any cover-­up by the police. We'll have to see what they come up with. I don't want to take any sides on this. I just want the truth. When I get that, we will decide what to do.”

“If you disbanded the police department, who would protect Lydell?”

“Who's protecting us now? But if it came to that, to disbanding the department, we would come under the jurisdiction of the state police. A number of small towns have taken that route. But I want to stress that it's still too early to consider such a move. We're waiting for all the facts to come out.”

“Larry, I attempted to talk with Lydell chief of police Gordon Hawkins, but as of yet, he has not returned our calls. We're going to keep working this breaking story, a very complicated one, and as soon as we have any new information, we will be back with it. Renee Lawson, Channel Eight News.”

Back to Larry. “Thanks, Renee. That is a stunning allegation. Good work on bringing us this significant story from Lydell. Next up, there's more snow on the way. Details after this.”

G
ORDY FEELS HIS
stomach tighten. “Shit,” he says. “Shit.” He wonders if Ronny has seen this, and then remembers that he was supposed to call him. He guesses that Ronny knew this was coming and wanted his advice. When he dials, the phone goes right to voice mail. “Ronny, this is Gordy. I don't know if you've seen the news. Either way, call me back as soon as you can. I'm at home, or call my cell.”

L
ONG AFTER THE
news story is over, Ronny remains sitting in the living room. He has thrown the remote across the room and smashed it beyond repair. He has to get up and push the button on the side of the TV to turn it off.

He has lots of questions. Why did they do this to him? Why do they have it in for him? Why does everyone think he killed Matt Laferiere? But he keeps coming back to: Who was the witness? Maybe the hit-­and-­run driver. More likely one of the passengers. He can imagine either Stablein or Cabella turning on him like that. They were both loyal to Matt, and loyal for years against his months. He figures it could be the Colvington kid, but he hadn't been riding with Matt that long. Someone's got a hard-­on for him, but he doesn't know who.

He has gone over the whole accident scene in his mind, hundreds of times. He didn't do anything he shouldn't have. He just did his job. Maybe he tripped Matt as he lurched past him, but that was all. And he wasn't sure he had done that. And what had he done to the ­people of Lydell to make them think the worst? How do you lose the respect of the town to a loser like Matt Laferiere? Ronny knows he's not a hero, but how did Matt Laferiere become one?

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