Brave Grave

Chapter twelve

With a cup of coffee in his hand, Richard walks around town and heads to the police station that was on a separate road away from all the closed down attractions. He walks through the glass doors to the building and went to the front desk, finding a middle aged woman behind it with a name tag that read "Foley" in bold letters.

"Can I help you sir?" She asks kindly.

"Yes, I'm detective Micheals from Trenton, is detective Brooks available? I'd like to speak with him." Richard replies holding out his badge.

"Yes sir, I'll page him and let him know you're here. You can have a seat over there while you wait."

Richard sits down and takes a sip of his coffee that was starting to get cold and roams his eyes all around the grey walls and rugged carpet.

He remembers sitting in this same room with his wife years ago discussing Gregory's case with Detective Ross who is no longer alive. He thought Ross was an extravagant man. He was one of the reasons why he went into law enforcement in the first place. It was such a tragedy to him when he heard that he passed away.

"Detective, he's ready for you. Go down the hallway and take a right and his office is right there." She says pointing her finger towards the lengthy hallway.

Richard thanks her and makes his way to Detective Brooks's office. He turns the knob and opens the door finding a brawny man with slick dark hair and a pearly white smile sitting behind his desk.

"Hello Detective Micheals, it's a pleasure. Come on in." Brooks says standing up and shaking Richard's hand. "What can I do you for?"

"If Detective Ross were alive, this is something that I'd speak to him about since he was on the case, but I need some information about it to refresh my memory since it happened so long ago." Richard explains.

"I see, what was the case?" Brooks asks raising a brow.

"If was my son, Gregory. I don't know how familiar you are with the case, but he was murdered here in town." Richard pauses to see if Brooks had any idea what he was talking about. From the expression on his face, he was familiar with it.

"Ah, yes. Gregory Micheals. I read up on the case years ago since it occurred here in Cedarmills. It was a messy trial I'd say." Brooks utters shaking his head.

"Yes, it was. I wasn't here for it, but from what I heard it was very messy." Richard replies.

"Three young boys were basically being torn apart by the press. They couldn't catch a break, poor fellas." Brooks says in sorrow, actually feeling sorry for them.

"What about the other guy?"

"Carl? Oh, he was guilty as charged. It was obvious who committed this crime. Carl Quincy Rutherford III had it coming for him anyways. He assaulted a police officer and served time before. He was on probation when they booked him for this murder case. From what I was told, he found the body of Gregory in the coffin, but I don't believe that for a second. How does a kid get locked into a coffin that Carl only had access to? It doesn't make since that those boys could have done it. They were only twelve years old at the time."

Richard was seething on the inside at Detective Brooks's words. He knew what he was saying was completely incorrect.

"Why do you think that he did it? Were you on the case?" Richard asks with his brow raised.

"No, I wasn't, but I don't think he did it. I know he did it. Anyone who thinks otherwise is clearly just blind." Brooks shrugs his shoulders and let them fall.

"I grew up with Carl, he was a good guy. I know it may have looked like he committed the crime, but I don't think he did it." Richard pauses as Brooks stared at him with a surprised look.

"And why do you think he's not guilty Detective? Please, enlighten me."

"Gladly, those three boys were bullies and they only got off of the hook because they were white boys and had daddy's money to get them out of trouble. Carl pleaded guilty because he was a black man. They saw skin color and ran with their assumptions and since he had a record they automatically assumed that he did it because three white boys without a record is more justifiable than a black man with a record. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe he wouldn't have assaulted a police officer if they had treated him like a human instead of a dangerous wild animal?"

Detective Brooks was shocked that the conversation took such a drastic turn so fast. He was not expecting this outcome.

"Seems to me Detective Micheals, you didn't need any information after all. Tell me, why are you really here? Because I know damned well that you know this case like the back of your hand." He says with a cold-eyed stare.

"I'm here to get justice for my son because I know he wouldn't want an innocent man going down for something he didn't do, especially if the guy was someone I grew up with. Detective, you can believe what you want to believe, but—"

"Detective Micheals, I think I've heard enough. I appreciate you stopping by, but I think it's time for you to leave now." He stands up onto his two feet and opens the door, politely kicking Richard out of his office.

Richard heaves a ragged breath and stands up,  while grabbing his coffee cup off of the desk. He makes his way to the doorway and looks over his shoulder at Detective Brooks.

"You know I'm right."

Detective Brooks stares at Richard's backside as he walks down the hallway. After he was no longer in sight, He shuts the door to his office and sits down at his desk. Lost in deep thought, he taps an ink pen on the polished surface as the silence consumed him.

Underneath his desk were files of cases, new and old. He grabs the case of files and pulls out one of them that was a tad thicker than the others. The name on the file was Gregory Micheals. Inside were all of the suspects in the case. Individually, he places all of the suspects side by side and examined the information given from top to bottom. After researching the case to the bone, he then began to doubt his decision that he previously had about the case.

Richard's words were glued to the back of his mind and he knew they were going to stay there no matter how hard he tried to ignore them.