Promise You Won't Tell? by John Locke
I can’t believe I’m having to deal with this right now.
“Truly, Rick, it’s okay. You’re a guy who’s never been kissed. Never seen a girl naked, except for porn sites.”
“Porn sites?”
“Don’t lie in the middle of your apology.”
“Okay.”
“You had a chance to see the homecoming queen naked. I get it.”
“Homecoming queen?”
“Figure of speech.”
“Oh. Right.”
“You’re forgiven. You’re still a nice guy. Just a little more human than I originally thought. And that’s probably a good thing.”
“Thanks, Dani.”
“My pleasure.”
I take a deep breath and say, “Was there anything else?”
“Yes. The main reason I called.”
“Which is?”
“You said to let you know if anything changed. Or if there were any new developments. Something like that. I can’t remember your exact words.”
“And has it?”
“Huh?”
“Has anything changed or happened? Have there been any new developments I should know about?”
“There is one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“The nude photos of Riley just hit the internet.”
A lot happens in a short period of time. First, I break the news to Riley.
“How bad is it?” she says.
“I’d rather not describe it to you over the phone. Can I come to your house?”
“Why?”
“I’d like to be there for you, when you see them for the first time. I’ve been through this. We can talk to your mom together, let her know what happened. It’s time to get her involved.”
“Ms. Ripper,” she says. “Can I call you Dani?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Everything’s about to blow up now, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Then I think we’ve hit the point where you and Dillon can’t be involved.”
“What do you mean?”
“You guys have broken numerous laws to help build this case. I’m incredibly grateful, but now that the photos are on the internet, the case will take on a life of its own. But if you’re involved, the defense attorneys will drag you into it and distract the police, the attorneys, and the judge.”
“What about Kelli?”
“What about her?”
“This can be an opportunity to put Mitch away.”
“Kelli and her mom should be the ones to make that decision.”
“Okay, fair enough. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m a survivor. All week we knew this could happen, so it’s not like a complete shock.”
“It’s going to be very difficult for you. I’d like to help if I can.”
“You can help by sending me the link to the photos.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. And Dani?”
“Yes?”
“I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and all the time you put into this.”
“I’m still here for you, Riley. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, please let me know how I can help you.”
“Thank you. I would like to clear one thing up, though.”
“What’s that?”
“When you said you’ve been through this, it’s not exactly true. What you went through was far worse than what happened to me. But how would you feel if naked photos of you were released on the internet?”
“I’d feel awful. I can’t imagine it.”
“Try to.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you realize everyone who knows me will look at those photos? Guys I know, their little brothers, and possibly their fathers, and some of my teachers—will probably masturbate to my photos. I doubt you have any idea what that’s going to be like for me. Not to mention, I’ll have to see all these kids and teachers at school every day.”
“I’m so sorry, Riley. I didn’t mean to compare our situations.”
“I know. I’m just saying…”
I sigh. “I’ll send the link. And the offer to call me, see me, work with me—will always be open.”
“Thank you.”
I send her the link, tell her goodbye, and pray she’ll be okay.
That was around eight-fifteen p.m.
By eleven, Riley has become the lead story on all local news channels. They’re not mentioning her by name, but they’re scrambling to piece her story together.
By noon, Saturday, it’s all anyone in town is talking about.
By five o’clock, there’s a new lead story.
Mitch Underhill has been found dead in his own home, the result of an apparent suicide.
Saturday.
As expected, the media loves the story of “the seventeen-year-old female student from Carson Collegiate.”
I turn my TV on in time to see the camera zooming in for a close up of our enthusiastic, but somber-faced local TV anchor, Gwen Jeffries, who says, “Channel eight has just learned the photos were taken after the seventeen-year-old female honor student passed out after an evening of binge drinking at the home of Mitchell and Lydia Underhill, on Carriage Town Park, here in Nashville.
“The student had been attending a slumber party a week ago today, with four other teenage girls at the Underhill residence.
“According to sources obtained by our news department, sometime before midnight the girls opened the door to a number of fellow male students. Two of the boys allegedly found the student passed out in an upstairs bedroom, removed her clothing, and photographed her. They sent the photos to fellow students, who apparently forwarded them to others.
“A week after the incident, an unknown person posted the photos to an internet porn site. The photos were removed by the owners of the site upon discovering the student was a minor, however, authorities have filed for an injunction against the site and charged the owners with violating the Child Protection and Obscenity Enforcement Act.
“School officials have asked the student to refrain from attending classes. According to sources related to the story, the student is currently on a suicide watch, under a doctor’s care.
“In a related story, Mitchell Underhill was found dead in his bedroom this afternoon, around four p.m. Underhill, who owned the home where the slumber party took place, is the apparent victim of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Police say no one has been charged in the shooting at this time, pending the results of an autopsy. Viewers having additional information about either of these incidents are being urged by police to call the number on our screen.”
As the anchor moves on to other stories, I receive a phone call from the last person on earth who should be asking me for help.
“Ms. Ripper?” he says.
“Yes?”
“I’m Gavin Clark. I’m—”
“Ethan’s father.”
“Yes. I’m calling to ask if you’d consider meeting me for a candid discussion?”
Curiosity helps me resist the urge to blow my whistle in the mouthpiece.
“When and where?”
“My office? Tonight?”
“Tonight’s fine, but I don’t trust your office. How about mine?”
“Same issue. Would you consider my country club? I can get us a private room.”
“I’d prefer my country club.”
He pauses. “Very well. Which club is that?”
“Actually, I don’t have a country club.”
“Excuse me?”
“I only said that to impress you. I thought you’d decline.”
He sighs. “I’ll come to your office if you give me your word there will be no recording devices.”
“You’ll have to promise the same.”
“Fine. When I get there, we can remove our shirts to prove we’re not wearing a wire. That’s a joke, by the way.”
He’s making a joke? He must
A half hour later, Gavin Clark enters my reception area with two teenage boys. I recognize one of them.
“Hello, Ethan,” I say.
“What happened to your face?” he says.
“I ran into a bore.”
“You mean ‘door,’ right?” Gavin says.
“Nope.”
He says, “It does look painful. Introduce yourself, Ronnie.”
“I’m Ronnie English.”
He moves toward me, to shake my hand.
“I don’t shake hands,” I say. “Nothing personal.”
“Germophobe?” Gavin says.
“No. But my explanation might make you nervous. Why are the boys here?”
“I want to talk to you with them present. At some point, if you’re interested, I’d like you to hear their side of the story.”
I frown.
Gavin says, “I know what you’re thinking, that they’ve been coached. But I’ll ask them to tell you what they told me. I can’t guarantee it’s the truth, but I’d like your take on it.”
“What exactly do you hope to gain?”
“In a perfect world? I’d like to hire you.”
“To do what?”
“Advise my legal team, help us obtain additional information, allow us to benefit from the investigation you’ve already conducted.”
“You don’t see that as a conflict of interest?”
“Not really. From what I understand, you were never hired by Riley or her mother. You were simply trying to find out what, if anything, happened to her at the slumber party.”
“The photos have answered that question.”
He glares at the boys, then says, “The photos are damaging. But they don’t prove molestation.”
I laugh, derisively. “You’ve seen the photos?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And you think they don’t rise to the level of molestation?”
“Proof of molestation, Dani.”
“Please tell me how you would explain them. In a courtroom.”
“I’d argue the photos have been displayed in the wrong order.”
I laugh.
He says, “Assume Riley was completely naked when the boys arrived. And yes, they wrongly photographed her. But they were simply photographing what they saw when they entered the room.”
“You make it sound like a bird watching excursion.”
He shrugs. “What do you expect? I’m an attorney.”
“It’s exactly what I expect. But please elaborate.”
“If the boys found her naked, and proceeded to dress her, and photographed each stage, to prove they were dressing her, they actually did her a service.”
I wish I could say I never wanted to hurt someone as badly as I want to hurt Gavin Clark at this moment, but sadly, that isn’t true.
Which tells you a lot about my life.
I swallow my anger and say, “The photos show Ethan kissing her genitals. Would I be safe in assuming he was aiming for the top of her head and fell short?”
He smiles. “If I thought the photos conclusively showed him kissing her genitals, I’d be even more furious than I am. Which is plenty. But the photos don’t necessarily show proper perspective. I’ve had them studied and analyzed by professional photographers and criminologists, and the experts’ consensus is the shading, the lighting, the camera quality—all come into play and give the impression something happened, when in fact, it didn’t. Perhaps an example might help you understand.”
“By all means,” I say.
“Have you ever seen the collections of internet photos that appear to show things you know are impossible? Like a lady on the beach holding the moon between her hands? Or the little girl with her mouth open, and it appears a jet is about to fly into it? Or the guy who appears to be diving head first into a giant glass bottle? These are examples of perspective.”
“Call me optimistic,” I say, “but I think your average judge can differentiate between photos that show a guy diving into a bottle and Ethan diving into a girl’s muff.”
“You’re quite optimistic, if a bit crude. I like that about you.”
“You tipped your hand just now,” I say.
“How so?”
“You said you’ve had the photos studied and analyzed by professionals. And yet they’ve only been online a few hours. Could it be possible you saw the photos on the boys’ cell phones prior to them being published on the internet?”
“Whether I did or didn’t doesn’t matter, from a legal standpoint. I’m part of their legal team, and have been retained to represent them.”
“You don’t have an obligation to report a crime?”
“You and I share the same obligation, Dani. Why haven’t you reported a crime? Answer: because you’ve had no conclusive evidence a crime was committed.”
“Until now. The pictures show a crime.”
“If that’s the case, I’m obligated to make any evidence in my possession available to opposing counsel during the discovery process.”
I say, “You’re right I was never retained to help Riley. But I’m obviously on her side.”
“Of course. However, I hope to—if not persuade you—at least get you to look at the case in a more objective manner.”
“Fat chance.”
“I understand,” he says.
“Does that mean we’re done here?”
“I hope not. Ideally, I’d like us to have a short discussion, tell you where I see this case going, maybe get your opinion about some possible alternative solutions to Riley’s predicament.”
“Her predicament?”
“The boys are juveniles, Dani. If they were a year older, she’d have their nuts in a vice, and it would serve them right.”
“I can get a vice. Bring the boys back when they’re eighteen and we’ll try it out. I’m sure Riley will be glad to participate.”
“Well, as I say, it would serve them right. But I also pointed out they’re juveniles. As bad as this is, as disgusting as their behavior has been, you and I both know they’re going to wind up with a sealed record, probation, and possible community service.”
“I don’t know that at all,” I say.
“Well, I could be wrong. On the other hand, this isn’t my first rodeo.”
I pause a minute. Then say, “Do you have any daughters?”
He shakes his head. “No. And you might not believe this, but my heart goes out to Riley. I can’t imagine how a young girl like that would have the strength to cope. I can tell you these boys are remorseful. But I’ll also be the first to say they have no conception of what they’ve done. They’re upset, of course. They’ve learned a lesson. But are they more upset over being caught than about what they did?”
He waves his hand. Then says, “I honestly can’t say.”
He sighs. “This whole incident has devastated me. You raise your children, you think you’ve done everything right, and then something like this happens.”
“Gavin,” I say. “Can you cut to the chase? What did you come here to say?”
“This case is going to receive national media attention, and locally the boys will be talked about for a while. But neither the victim, nor the accused, will be publicly named. The boys won’t do any jail or prison time, nor will Riley be awarded monetary damages.”
“That’s outrageous. Surely the courts will make an exception. Her photos are all over the internet. They’re all over the school. She’s lost her privacy. Her dignity. She’s been forced to drop out of school. You’re saying the boys will never be named?”
“If that’s true, I’ll make it my life’s work to see that justice is done.”
Gavin shrugs. “If she were my daughter I’d be just as upset. But the law’s the law, and the legal system is what it is. And if I may, I know you’re quite upset about what happened, and your passion for the victim is admirable. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t caution you about making s
I feel my face getting flushed, but they know better than to smirk.
I silently curse the legal system, until it dawns on me if he’s so fucking smart, and so convinced Ethan’s got nothing to worry about, why bother talking to me in the first place? There must be more. I will myself to calm down. Then ask, “What else have you got to say?”
“Have you spoken to Parker Page?”
“About what?”
“Her role in all of this.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t misunderstand,” Gavin Clark says. I’m not trying to create a diversion, or shift the blame...”
He adds, “The boys are guilty.”
“They’re going to plead guilty?”
“Of course. How can they not?”
“I don’t understand.”
“We expect them to be charged with voyeurism.”
“Try sexual assault, counselor.”
“There was no penetration, Dani.”
“What about oral penetration?”
“The photos don’t support that charge from a legal standpoint. At most they’ll be charged with sexual abuse. But we’ll fight hard to prevent that, based on the quality of the photos, the issues with perspective, and so forth.”
“So why are you here?”
“Despite the way I’m coming across to you at the moment, I feel sick about what happened to Riley. These boys have ruined her junior year of high school, made it impossible for her to return to Carson for her senior year. She’ll probably have to complete high school out of state, and the effects of this could follow her for years. You of all people understand this.”
“Your point?”
“I want to help.”
“How?”
“How’s your relationship with Riley?”
“We’re cordial.”
“Does she trust you?”
“As far as I know. Why?”
“It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to approach Riley at this point.”
“I agree.”
He starts to say something, then says, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but as an attorney I have natural trust issues. Can we step into the hall so I can ask you a question?”