Favorite Sons: A Novel by Robin Yocum

Author:Robin Yocum [Yocum, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Published: 2011-05-31T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Jack Vukovich had one hand firmly around my scrotum and was squeezing for all he was worth, the veins in his forearm erupting through sallow skin like mountain roads. And he was enjoying every minute—twisting and laughing. As a prosecuting attorney I was certainly familiar with such treatment, but I had always been the one doing the squeezing and twisting, and I can tell you for a fact that it was absolutely no fun being on the receiving end. I was panicked. My stomach hadn’t roiled so much since that June day in 1971.

As I stated, prior to running for attorney general I had no great political aspirations. But with victory so close and virtually assured, I certainly wanted to grasp it. The revelations that Jack Vukovich could unleash would end not only my statewide political career, but my days as a prosecutor, as well. The fact that I had been present at Petey Sanchez’s slaying would not hurt me, but my three-plus decades of silence was a career-ender for someone sworn to uphold justice. Acid gurgled in the back of my throat and I was once again fifteen years old and angry with myself, Adrian Nash, and that damn Petey Sanchez.

There was always the possibility that Jack Vukovich was telling the truth and there was nothing to the Portage Township investigation, but I knew I was just kidding myself. If the allegations were baseless, he wouldn’t have wasted his trump card. Rather, he simply spread his cards on the table. It was my move.

I hit my intercom and asked Margaret for the phone number of the Portage Township Police Department. She brought in an index card, the number written neatly on the top line, and set it on my desk. I thanked her without looking up, attempting to avert the steely eyes that I knew were boring into the top of my head. She bent over and snatched the foil candy wrapper off the carpet. “What was that all about?” she finally asked, her fist clenched tight around the foil.

I was forced to raise my head. “No big deal.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Nothing,” I said. I didn’t offer up any additional information. She puckered up her lips and raised her brows. Trying to lie to Margaret was like trying to lie to my mother. She knew a shit storm had just rolled through my office. As she grabbed the doorknob, she turned, pointed to the lobe of her left ear with an index finger and said, “You know, when you lie, your ears turn the color of tomatoes.” She pointed the finger at me like it was a revolver and left without further comment.

* * *

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.