Eileen Slovak

Chapter Twenty-one: Breaching the Inner Circle

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and locales are products of the author’s imagination. They are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is coincidental. Copyright © 2024 by Eileen Slovak.

Scott

After talking to the Arkansas police for the second time, I review the accident report again and all the notes in the file. I’m still having trouble making a case. In my conversations with Mr. Campbell, I’ve indicated that the evidence presents like an accident so far. Still, he’s pressing for a more in-depth inquiry into the loss of their only child. I get it. Maybe if the accident happened closer to home, the family would have fewer questions. I have the sense they don’t trust the authorities down south. Mr. Campbell is insistent I make another trip to the crash site. While there, I’ll press the mechanic, take more photos, speak to Sean’s neighbors, friends, all expenses paid, of course. Although, I don’t feel right about incurring additional charges, the decision isn’t mine to make. Sean’s parents want a different outcome than what appears to be the truth. The kid was driving recklessly.

I purchase a roundtrip ticket to Arkansas for next week. I offer to pack up Sean’s personal belongings while I’m there. Mr. Campbell thanks me for the suggestion, agreeing it would be a help. He asks me to ship everything to his office address so as not to further upset Mrs. Campbell. I feel for them. Loss doesn’t get any easier with time despite what people tell you, but the pain does get a little duller.   

      Knowing the number by heart now, I call Patricia Iannuccilli’s cell. No answer, yet again. My system of interviewing people on my list in alphabetical order is being systematically destroyed by this woman. I’ve left her three messages already, but she hasn’t returned any of my calls. I try once more out of sheer frustration, surprised when she actually answers.

      “Hello, Patricia?”

      “Yes.”

      “This is Scott Manchester, I left you a…,” click is all I hear. Son of a…she hung up! I asterisk her name on the list, making a plan to physically hunt her down. I move onto the next person, Sean’s best friend, Kevin Murphy. Kevin seems like an affable guy who agrees to meet with me Saturday afternoon.

      I have started spending my free time at the Un Pub. I’ve decided I like the place and the beer is cold. Bonus, it’s only a short walk from my hotel. The suite is like a mini apartment. Still, there’s only so much time I can spend there without going stir crazy. I’ve struck up a friendship with the bartender at the pub. She’s funny and entertaining. A little too edgy to be my type, but she’s good company. Having a regular haunt is giving me a sense of belonging here, at least for now. Plus, I know I’ll see Scarlet O’Brien again, the next chick on my hit list.