Free Collateral Damage by H. Terrell Griffin

on.”
    â€œI’ll be there in ten minutes.”
    I’d moved back inside and the new pictures were spread over the coffee table. The first thing I noticed was that the person in these pictures was wearing the same clothes as the person in the pictures from the Grand Beach elevators. The second thing was the size of the new guy. There was no clear shot of his face. He was wearing the same ball cap as the one from Grand Beach and he kept his head down.
    â€œDid you notice the clothes on this one?” I asked.
    â€œYeah. They look identical. Like a uniform or something.”
    â€œSame briefcase.”
    â€œIdentical.”
    â€œAnd this is a pretty big guy,” I said.
    â€œYes. You can tell by comparing his size to the elevator door. I’d say he’s around five feet ten. Not huge, but bigger than the Grand Beach guy.”
    â€œThe time stamps match. The one at Grand Beach and this guy were going up and coming down at about the same time.”
    She took a sip of her coffee. “We’ve got at least two people involved in this. A hit team?”
    â€œLooks like it. Maybe more than two.”
    â€œMore than two?” she asked.
    â€œWhat if Jim hadn’t gone jogging that morning. This was their last chance to get him before he left for Europe. There had to be someone else as a backup.”
    She thought about it, her teeth massaging her lower lip. “Or maybe there was a backup plan. If he hadn’t jogged that morning, they may have planned to get him somewhere else.”
    â€œYou could be right. But why? Who’d want to hit a young guy just out of college?”
    â€œIf we answer that question,” she said, “we’ll probably have an idea of who the shooters were.”
    â€œEven if we don’t get the shooters, if we can figure out the why and the who behind this, I’ll have somebody to sue. We can take it from there.”
    â€œWhere do we start?”
    â€œThe statements from Chaz Desmond and Jim’s wife, Meredith, weren’t much help. I wonder if I might have a little more luck. Not being a cop, and all.”
    J.D. bristled a little at this. “You think you can take a better statement than I can?”
    â€œNo. Not at all. But Chaz is my old friend and the guy who wants me to proceed with this suit. He can get me to Meredith as part of the family. There just might be secrets there that they would share with me that they’d want to keep out of the public record. And by talking to you they would be afraid that everything would become public sooner or later.”
    She relaxed, smiled, sat back in her chair. “Good recovery, chum. But I think you’re probably right. And there’s nothing to lose by trying.”
    â€œSo it’s okay with you for me to talk to them?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œHow about the other witnesses?”
    â€œNo problem. Just keep me informed.”
    â€œSuppose we set up a new file, one that’s not part of the official file. That way I can assure the witnesses that while I’ll share the information with you, it’ll be completely off the record and that you won’t use it without their explicit permission.”
    She was quiet for a beat, thinking this over. I knew it went against all her training. The rules are specific. Everything goes into the master file. All evidence and statements are to be kept for use in a trial. She would be breaking all kinds of regulations by going off the reservation, as it were.
    â€œI don’t know, Matt,” she said after a minute or so. “I work for the town. I don’t know if I can hide anything from the prosecutors and other cops.”
    â€œThink of it this way, J.D. I don’t have to share any of this with you. I can claim attorney-client privilege or work product and keep it out of the hands of any of the authorities. But I’d like your help. Besides, you’re at a dead end on this case.