Aiden talks to Inez and Fonda about their experiences with Bullock. They decide to go on a road trip to see Eoin, a former exchange student, who now works in Daytona. While this is going on, Vanessa and Scott decide to interrogate Bullock.
“What’s this? Good Cop, Bitchy Cop?” Bullock chuckled. It was an ugly sound.
“I’ll remind you that you’re addressing a female detective of this department,” Scott said calmly. “You’re under arrest for assault on a police officer, resisting arrest, verbal assault, obstruction of justice, and suspicion of murder. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Bullock started cursing. Scott held his hand up to his ear.
“Sorry, can’t hear you, I’m deaf to the sound of profanity. If you’d like to say something else, I’d be happy to listen.”
Bullock snorted and said something so filthy, even Scott was offended. Pinched nostrils turned white, but his neck and ears turned red.
“Detective Weinstein, I’d like you to go now,” he said, giving her a very emphatic look.
Without arguing, she left. Scott didn’t lose his temper often, but he had just passed the line. Turning off the camera, she watched to make sure he didn’t do anything dangerous. He took her welfare seriously, and always had. They had dated years ago, but they had remained friends. Now that she was pregnant, like his wife, he took an even greater interest in her well being.
“You’re going to tell me everything, you sorry sack of shit. You’ll tell me about molesting the girls under your care, of your involvement in the sex pandering and the sleazy drug and f**k parties. You’re going to tell me of your involvement in the death of Wendy Hamilton.”
“Or what?” the coach snarled, his mouth a hard line. “You gonna let her slap me?”
Scott stood, leaning over the seated coach. He was a tall, solidly built man, whose biceps bulged, threatening to rip his jacket. “Or I will tell every male member of this patrol what you said to Detective Weinstein, then I’ll leave the door open and the security camera off.” He let that sink in. “Then, I’m going to round up the fathers of the girls you exploited and molested, and I’ll tell them what a lowlife piece of human excrement you are. You sold those girls off, after you had your way with them. Some of them were virgins.”
“You can’t prove this shit. Lies. All of it.”
“Here’s what I know,” Scott said, sitting down. He signaled her to turn the camera back on, and scooted the folder in front on him. Opening it, he pulled out a picture, turning it to face Bullock. It was a close up of Wendy’s face, battered, bruised, bloody and pale with death. “You knew Wendy was back in town. I believe she came to see you, threatened to expose your little sex market, and probably had enough on you to send you away for a long time. We found a diary in her belongings.”
That was the first Vanessa had heard of it. Scott could be bluffing, or he could be telling the truth.
“Am I? Believe what you will. She threatened you, maybe she asked for money. I imagine you had quite a good racket going. She wanted a cut to keep quiet. Or, maybe she wanted a cut, and threatened to shut you down. Either way, you raped and killed her.” He put a picture of Wendy’s body, torn clothing, pecked at by vultures, in front of Bullock.
The other man gagged, turning his head. Scott slammed his hand on the table, on top of the picture. “You look at this! This is your doing! She was young, innocent, trying hard to get her life on track. She suffered untold horrors at the hands of her father and grandfather—and you! Slobbering old men who took advantage of a pretty, young girl!”
“She wasn’t so innocent!” Bullock yelled, trying to stand. “She took what she wanted. She seduced me! Filmed it, threatened to show it to my wife! The school board! That cheap little c—”
“Not how I heard it. From her diary.” He pulled out a page, holding it where Bullock couldn’t see it.
Vanessa squinted at it. It was covered in handwriting, but she couldn’t tell if it was Scott’s, or really was a copy of a dairy.
“According to Wendy, you came on to her, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She said, and I quote, He kept touching me, fondling my bottom and rubbing himself against me. He pinched my breast so badly it bruised. He wouldn’t stop! Constantly on me. No one would help. I asked the guys on the team, the other girls. Only Aiden tried to help me, but Coach Bullock knocked him around. I was so scared that he was going to kill Aiden, I agreed. I’m so scared. I felt filthy. Dirtier than I ever thought possible. Even worse than when my father touched me for the first time.” Scott stared at the paper a long time.
Vanessa knew it was genuine, because his hands shook and his neck went red with anger.
“She was barely seventeen when you did that. But that was okay, right? She wasn’t a child, she was a teenager. What you aren’t thinking of is two fold: she was under eighteen,” he held up his left thumb, touching it with his right index finger. “She said no.” He touched his left index finger with his right. “That, under the law, falls into two categories: Statutory Rape and Child Abuse.”
© 2018 Dellani Oakes