Judgment Ridge by Dick Lehr

Author:Dick Lehr
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

By late morning, Coltere Savidge and Zack Courts were up and out of Coltere’s house and heading back to Zack’s house so he could get a change of clothes. The convoy of police vehicles in the village was now outnumbered by television camera trucks, media vans, and reporters racing around in cars. A small-town boy like the rest, Zack had never seen anything like it. Chelsea’s quiet Main Street had gone insane, he thought.

The moment Coltere pulled into Zack’s driveway, reporters moved toward them in a swarm, shouting questions. You know Tulloch? What about Parker? C’mon, you must know them.

No, no, no, the boys said, shaking their heads as they ducked and ran inside.

The boys headed over to Tyler Vermette’s house just south of the village, where a bunch of boys, mostly members of the basketball team, were gathering: Brad Johnson, Kip Battey and his brother Nick, and Coltere’s younger brother Cabot. Even surrounded by the warmth of some of his closest friends, Zack felt numb.

They decided to stay away from town and the reporters, but were soon glued to the news on CNN and other television channels that kept replaying the press conferences showcasing police and New Hampshire prosecutors discussing the Zantops and the manhunt for Robert and Jim. “We were torturing ourselves,” Zack said, “but we couldn’t help it.”

Eventually the spell was broken by Tyler’s father, Mark, the varsity basketball coach. He wanted his players to talk about the game scheduled for that night in Barre. The players had a choice. In light of the circumstances, the coach was willing to postpone the game. To a boy, they said, Let’s play. “If something horrible was happening, I’d rather play a basketball game than sit in a chair and look at the wall,” said Zack. It seemed logical. Don’t dwell on the news. Stay active and play the game, they figured.

They figured wrong. Coltere Savidge was known around Chelsea as a stoic kid, a school leader, a poised athlete. Tall, light-haired, and handsomely built, he was low-key and showed little emotion. Teachers considered him a role model to younger kids. “If Coltere ever swears, it turns people’s heads,” said Zack. But during the game Coltere couldn’t get into any kind of rhythm. He couldn’t find his game head. In the first outing against the Websterville team, the Chelsea Red Devils had won 59–53. This time Chelsea was flat and getting its butt kicked, and Coltere’s sloppy, unfocused play was part of the problem. “It was weird, very weird,” Coltere said. He was trying not to think about Robert and Jim and the police manhunt, “but it was always in the back of my head.” The second half began with his team trailing. “I just wasn’t in my right mind.”

Losing a battle for an offensive rebound, an opponent elbowed Coltere in the face and Coltere went down. But no foul was called. The Websterville players took off down court on a fast break and scored. Coltere smoldered as he climbed up off the floor.

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