Stephen sat in the back of the
ambulance, a bandage around his head. His body felt bruised and battered, but
nothing felt broken. An officer was standing in front of him, questioning him,
but Stephen was only half paying attention.
“So, why was everyone meeting?” The
officer had a pad in front of him, and was jotting down notes.
Stephen did his best to recount the
story of the hacked GreekLife accounts, and all the info they had found out
when looking into who the hacker was. He was having a hard time focusing, and
he was sure he had left out some key details, but the officer got the gist of
it.
“And you say that the president of
your frat was going to bring the materials to the cops? Why didn’t your Dean?”
The officer didn’t look up from his pad.
“I don’t know. The Dean didn’t seem
to thrilled about opening up that can of worms.” He rubbed his throbbing head. “Probably
wanted to avoid bad press. You know, keep it internal.”
The officer asked, “And you and your
friends weren’t happy with that?”
Stephen looked up at the officer. He
was older, with tan skin and a chubby face. Had to be around fifty, maybe
older. Close to retirement, and he really didn’t look like he wanted to be
there.
Too bad, thought Stephen.
“Someone killed themselves because
of those photos. Someone tried to make it look like I had posted them. No, we
weren’t happy with it. We were pissed, and we were going to do something about
it, but then those goons showed up.” Stephen’s head let out a harsh throb. “Damn
it.”
“Any idea who those goons were?” The
officer tucked his pad into his belt. “Would make things really easy.”
He shook his head. “They wore masks.”
“Of course they did.” The officer
sighed. “You said the fraternity president had those materials. The stuff with
the photos and all that. Think he would turn them over now?”
Stephen pointed towards Willard. “Ask
him.”
-*-
Willard could see the officer
walking towards him. His heart rate was climbing quickly. This was all getting
out of hand way too quickly, and he needed time to think.
“Are you listening to me, you little
shit?” Dean Stanton growled through the cellphone pressed to Willard’s ears.
“We will finish this in person,
tomorrow.” Without another word, Willard hung up.
He was going to get his ass wailed
on tomorrow, but he had no other choice. The cops couldn’t hear him talking to
Stanton. That would be bad. That would ruin all the plans that they had put
together. Who the hell had sent the goons? The two of them had worked everything
out. Willard would placate everyone, make it sound like something was getting
done, and then they would just wait for it all to blow over.
Now… now he was backed into a
corner, and he did not like that. Dean Stanton, or as Willard preferred, Daddy,
didn’t like it either.
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