When the Corn Is Waist High by Jeremy Scott

Author:Jeremy Scott [Scott, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781684426478
Publisher: Turner Publishing Company
Published: 2022-04-18T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

NATIONAL MEDIA

I AWOKE TO THE SOUNDS OF TRAFFIC.

Traffic?

This was uncommon in Crooked Creek. We maybe got a couple of semis per night, driving through the county from one small township to the next. What we called “Main Street” was technically a state highway, so some small amount of through traffic was to be expected.

Today it was dozens of semis, or perhaps even more. The noise was obtrusive and, whether or not it was intended, sent the message that this town was in for yet another round of major upheaval. It turned out to be the national media rolling into town. Seems we’d hit the magic number of murders to qualify as an important national story.

I microwaved yesterday’s leftover coffee and stared out the kitchen window while drinking it, marveling at the sheer amount of money behind this kind of mobilization.

Things were different here now. For how long remained to be seen. Maybe there would be no going back to the days of quiet, simple Crooked Creek. Now we had cameras, microphones, and even a helicopter.

We weren’t fucking around anymore.

I had thought Harold McKee was stubborn and without scruples. But I had never met a member of the national media before this moment, and I would quickly learn just how tame and amateur Harold actually was.

Crooked Creek was no longer an unknown sleepy town in Indiana … it was the focus of all the world’s attention.

I had three microphones shoved in my face before I could even enter the police station. I knew well enough to say nothing, but this was still a new and unwelcome change. The roar of the press questions died with the closing of the precinct’s front door, and relative silence returned.

“You know, can we subpoena for use of their helicopter since we don’t have one of our own?” I barked at the mayor, even though I had no idea if he was even in the building.

He wasn’t, as it turned out.

“What in all the hells?” I continued to no one in particular as I made a beeline for the coffee machine.

I knew my work would bring scrutiny. I’d even been ready for more cops. But I had not expected the press. Just goes to show that you can never plan enough.

“They’re all already in there,” Maggie said, pointing to the conference room.

“I’m not even late!” I barked back at her angrily, though none of my anger was her fault.

I opened the rear door and entered the conference room. The briefing wasn’t being led by FBI Field Director Rathburn, nor by his right-hand man, Lt. Irwin. Instead, it was being led by Crooked Creek Mayor Burke.

I guzzled my coffee and shook my head silently in disbelief.

“I want each and every one of you to flat-out ignore these media hounds. Pretend they don’t exist. Don’t run over them with your car, of course,” Burke chuckled, “but make believe you cannot see them. That is a department order.”

A slight murmur went through the room before the mayor shouted it down.

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