Chapter 25
In the morning my father drove me down to the police station and waited for me outside in the car while I went in to see Cecil Travers.
The policeman at the desk told me to sit down and Sergeant Travers would come out for me.
I sat on the hard oak bench near the station house door and in maybe five minutes Cecil Travers came out.
"Come on into my office," he said. "Tell me what I can do for you."
Cecil listened very carefully to everything I said. And nodded and listened and nodded and listened. When I got through, he leaned back in his chair and looked at me.
"You're a smart kid," he said.
And I shrugged.
"Brave too," he said.
"I was scared all the time," I said.
"Had reason to be," Cecil said. Then he cleared his throat. "I don't see enough evidence here to charge you with a crime."
"Even though I moved the sign?"
"That is correct," Cecil said.
"He might not have died if he'd been able to see the sign," I said.
"But you might have," Cecil said. "And what about the girl?"
I nodded.
"You're a kid," Cecil said. "You did the best any kid could do, with what you had, and you won. Take it and go home and be proud of it. Hell, nobody's even reported Luke missing."
"Poor guy," I said.
"Poor guy would have cut you up if he'd caught you," Cecil said.
I nodded.
"Nobody even knows he's gone," I said.
Cecil stood and came around his desk.
"And nobody cares," Cecil said. "Your old man outside?"
"Yeah."
"I'll walk you out," Cecil said.
We went through the station house and down the wide granite steps to where my father was parked in a no-parking zone, waiting for me to come out.
"Not enough of a case here for me to press charges," Cecil said.
"Good," my father said.
I got in the front seat beside him.
"Sam," Cecil said.
"Yeah?"
"You boys done a darn good job with this kid," he said.
"I think he's done most of the good work," my father said. "Me and Cash and Patrick mostly just stayed out of his way."
"Well," Cecil said. "You got reason to be proud of him."
"We are," my father said.
I was trying to stay dignified. Cecil put his hand through the open window and shook my hand. Then he turned and walked back into the station. We pulled away from the curb.
"How you feeling?" my father said.
"Pretty good," I said.