I sat on one side of the conference table, and the lawyers sat on the other. I gave a full accounting of everything that had happened and eventually drank three cups of vending machine coffee. Dom arrived as I began to answer their follow-up questions, and they greeted him with hearty congratulations, which made me like them better.
Dom sat down next to me, the questions continued, and the night sky surrendered to a purplish gray dawn in the window behind them. Finally the sun climbed the clouds, and by eight o’clock in the morning, the lawyers were out of questions.
I sensed we were finished. “So what happens next?”
“We’re going to hold a press conference today with the officials from DOJ and the FBI Director—”
“I meant, what about Reilly?”
“Already in custody.”
“Anybody else?”
“Our investigation is ongoing. At this juncture, we believe Reilly is the only individual left involved in the criminal conspiracy.”
“Will you give them the photograph from Gitmo, of me with Senator Ricks?” I had pulled it from a laptop they had supplied during my statement.
“Yes, we passed it up the chain. We will share any and all evidence.”
“Do you think it will bring Ricks down?”
“I don’t know.”
“It better.” I still believed in justice, even in a world that didn’t know the difference between right or wrong, or the good guys from the bad.
“Now, about our press conference.” Forman picked up a sheet of paper and skimmed it quickly. “We’re going to say that you and your family were the victims of a botched carjacking that took place on Friday night, two weeks ago, on Coldstream Road in Chester County. The perpetrators were John Milo and Junior Veria, members of the George Veria Organization, or GVO.” Forman checked his paper. “We’re going to say that Milo and Veria attempted to carjack your vehicle because they were fleeing the scene of a double homicide in Jennersville, which they are believed to have committed.”
“So you’re going with the carjacking story.”
“Yes.”
“Not the truth?”
“Not for now.”
“Why?” I found myself wondering if Forman was a good good guy like Dom, or a bad good guy like Wiki. So far the only good bad guy I knew was George Veria, but I was keeping an open mind.
“As I said, Reilly is in custody, but it will take time to prepare the case against him. The same is true of any case against Senator Ricks, since at this juncture, the extent of his involvement in the conspiracy is unknown.” Forman squared his jaw. “We will say nothing about the photo you gave us, your time at Gitmo, or the Doha interrogation. Similarly, we will say nothing about the hit-and-run death of Paul Hart or the apparent suicide of Contessa Burroughs. We don’t want to publicly connect these dots. To do so could imperil the investigation of Senator Ricks.”
I got that. “What will you say about my daughter?”
“We’re going to say that the carjacking was botched, and it resulted in the murder of Junior Veria and your daughter, Allison.”
It hurt to hear it. Now it was official. I felt a wave of grief, but stayed in emotional control.
“We’re going to say that subsequent to the events of that night, you and your family entered the witness protection program. Your house, office, and your wife’s studio were destroyed by GVO, a form of witness intimidation that you and your family resisted. We will say that you and your family are currently in an undisclosed location. We will ask that the press respect your privacy during this difficult time.”
“What about the murder of Bryan Krieger, the citizen detective? Milo killed him at the composting plant. Phil Nerone, too.” I flashed on the horrible way that Krieger died.
“We won’t make any statement about that today. We’re saying only as much as we have to.”
“You might want to rethink that.” I sighed inwardly, since they had learned exactly zero from what had just happened with us. “There’s a citizen detective community online, and they’re not going to let this go. It’s like our friends. It’s the same thing, all over—”
“We’ll take it under advisement.” Forman nodded. “We’re going to address the rumors regarding you, Jason. We’re going to say that you are guilty of absolutely no wrongdoing. That should clear your name and rehabilitate your reputation, to the extent it’s necessary.”
“Okay,” I said, though it was hard to care about my reputation right now.
“That’s basically it.” Forman set the paper aside. “On a personal note, you must be wondering about the settlement regarding the damage to your house, your office, and your wife’s studio. I’ve already contacted the powers that be in Washington. They feel confident we can reach a financial settlement that will enable you and your family to start over.”
Start over. I didn’t even know how to respond to that. I hadn’t thought about a settlement yet.
“I spoke with the FBI Director, and it is his opinion that GVO is out of business, given those killed at the scene last night, in addition to the prior deaths of Junior Veria and Phil Nerone.”
I heard an unmistakable note of triumph in his voice, but I flashed on the scene in New Cumberton and the other towns I had been through, watching the drug business on street corners. I knew another organization would emerge sooner rather than later, filling the void and meeting the demand.
“We will announce that thanks to the teamwork of the FBI, the Delaware State Police, and the Philadelphia Police, GVO no longer poses a threat to the citizens of the tristate area. Our heartfelt thanks to you and your family, too, Jason. We appreciate everything you have done. I assume you do not want to appear at the press conference.”
“I don’t, thank you.”
“Good. Then that’s it, for now.” Forman linked his hands in front of him.
“Wait, what about Dom? You’re giving credit to the FBI, when Wiki and Reilly tried to kill Dom and my family?”
Forman blinked. “We’re not in a position to reveal—”
“Yes you are, you just don’t want to.” I felt angry all of a sudden. “Is Dom even going to be at the press conference? Is the public ever going to know what he did? He got my wife and son out before Milo got there. He hid them. He saved their lives.”
Dom waved me off. “Jason, it’s okay.”
I faced Forman. “Dom put his life on the line for me last night. He got his uncle and his friends to put their lives on the line. If that’s not a hero, I don’t know what is.”
“You don’t need to tell me.” Forman flashed Dom a professional smile. “Special Agent Kingston is already an FBI legend.”
“Does that mean he gets credit? A raise? A promotion? Because whatever you’re paying this legend, it’s not enough.”
“We’ll take that under advisement, too.” Forman cleared his throat. “Moving on, Jason, we would request that you and your family relocate to a hotel near this office for the foreseeable future. We can shield you from the press and you’ll be available to answer our questions as the investigation launches, leading up to trial.”