Chapter 18 – The Decision
The following morning, while Shep and Dave ran their morning route and the Magnolia Street ladies sat on the porch with Miranda and their coffee, two men were talking just a few miles from the houses of Minokee.
Their huge, shiny cars were parked at the end of an old logging road deep in the forest. Headlights glowed in the morning half-light. The men stood between the cars, alone, face to face.
“Reggie,” said the contractor in greeting.
“Thanks for coming,” said the governor.
“You said it was important. I’m here.” The man was emotionless except for the hint of disdain in his eyes when he looked at the governor. His look said, I own you.
“We’ve had a good run,” Reggie said. “We’ve both profited, and so far we’ve been untouchable. But the handwriting is on the wall now. It’s time for us to stop. Go our separate ways.”
The contractor nodded, taking in the ideas. “What brought this on?” he asked.
Reggie handed the contractor a compact disc. “Did you hear the Sheep Counter program last night?”
“I don’t listen to that crap.”
“That’s a recording of it,” Reggie indicated the disc. “You only need to hear the first three minutes. He’s putting his facts together. He may not have any proof yet, but he’ll soon have enough circumstantial evidence to get law enforcement interested. If they start digging seriously, they are sure to find enough to ruin us.”
“Pssht,” the contractor scoffed. “People like us don’t go to prison, Reggie. That’s what lawyers are for.”
Reggie’s voice climbed to a higher register. “Sure! The lawyers end up with the money we made, and we end up with no life. I’ll lose my career, my family, and my future along with the money. You think prison is the worst that can happen? Think again, pal!”
The contractor placed a hand on Reggie’s shoulder. The gesture was restraining rather than comforting. “Calm down,” he said. “What is the situation exactly, huh? Some conspiracy nut says on the radio that he’s gonna rat us out. If he knows so much, why doesn’t he just name names? Why doesn’t he accuse us? He hasn’t done it because he can’t. He’s got nothing. Don’t let him scare you into doing something foolish. That’s exactly what he’s hoping for.”
Reggie took some deep breaths. His voice lowered to near normal. “You don’t know Shepard Krausse. He’s not a flake. He knows the law, and he’ll use it. He’ll name the names when he knows he’s got enough evidence to defend a civil suit for defamation of character. He’ll force us into court, and then all his accusations will be public record. And he’s media. He’s got media connections. Even if the court rules in our favor, he’ll make sure public opinion rules against us. We can be officially, legally innocent, and we’ll still be screwed.”
The contractor shrugged. “Okay, then. Now that we’ve identified the problem, I’ll take care of it.”
“He’s my sister’s son,” said Reggie. “I can’t harm him. She’ll kill me. I’m not kidding.”
“Chill out, my friend. You won’t harm anybody. I got this. It’s handled. Relax. Go home and have breakfast.” The contractor extended his hand in farewell.
Reggie shook hands and nearly bowed. “Okay, I guess. Thanks for coming.”
“No problem,” said the contractor. “Let’s not do it again.”
A moment later the two cars rolled quietly away from the clearing, out of the forest, and on to their separate destinations.