I saw Paul scanning the crowd, and when he noticed us, he waved. He’d commandeered two café tables across the street. One for Mr. and Mrs. Yun and their friends, and he was battling to hold on to chairs for me, Channing, and Ames.
There was no podium. Kent had some sort of portable microphone in his hand and was standing on the steps of the town hall. A few people walked out behind him but gave him space when they saw the smallaudience of news cameras and journalists fanned out on the sidewalk. To his left was the police station I knew well.
A thin crowd of curious passersby stood around. A clump of Korean families near Mr. and Mrs. Yun smiled at me and glanced at my cousin as if she was a celebrity.
“This is a circus and Kent is the ringmaster,” Channing muttered.
Chapter 43
Kent cleared his throat and tested the microphone. He looked to his right, and I saw a black square speaker about knee high. It was smaller than the one I’d seen the mayor use at the library event. Not high tech, but Kent’s voice carried across the street to us.
He introduced himself and then thanked the East End community for working with him for four years to make the town a better place. He coughed into his fist and seemed to struggle with clearing his throat again. Ames walked quickly across the street, up the stairs, and handed him a bottle of water. He thanked her and introduced her as the town journalist that everyone on the national level would hear about soon. She smiled and waved at the cameras. What was Ames up to?
“You all know that I believe in partnerships,” Kent began. “Partnerships between leaders and the community, partnerships on every level. We don’t stand here alone. Well, I’m not up here alone. And I made a promise to myself and my partners that if I ever fell, I would take them with me.”
Everyone waited in silence. There was tension in the air that was broken only by the sound of a trio of jets soaring overhead. There must have been military exercises going on nearby, though I didn’t know of any bases that close.
Cameras flashed despite the warm sunlight. Kent waited for the jets topass and then continued, “We stand together as we fall together. You help me, I help you. I’m not going up or down alone.” He waved at people in the audience. He clearly enjoyed the attention. His voice was clearer and more confident the longer he stood there. He didn’t look down at his chest as I’d seen him do, instead making eye contact with friendly faces in the audience. “I see you, Brad,” he said, and pointed at a man standing up front. “It’s been a while, Boston 2021, am I right, Lyn?” He chuckled toward the middle of the gathering.
Something wasn’t quite right, I sensed, though he was trying to hide it. Even from this distance, his voice sounded strained. A reporter shouted, “Tell us what this is about, Kent!”
He held the mic closer to his lips. “You’re right. Let’s get to it, shall we?” He paused before launching in. “You all heard my name dragged through the mud recently. I’m not at liberty to go into details, but you all know me. I grew up in this town, I’ve never left it. You know how hard I’ve worked for it. Well, there are forces trying to divide us, my friends.”
There were murmurs and loud comments in response. “Who, Kent? Name them for us,” someone demanded.
Kent nodded. “You’re right, you have a right to know. And they’re right here, among people who I thought were my friends. People you thought were working on your behalf. I’m the wrongful target of an investigation into financial losses incurred by the police and court concerning one individual you all have heard about,” he continued.
“The grand jury dismissed the charges,” a reporter shouted.
The crowd around us turned pointedly toward my cousin. The reporters in front of Kent stayed focused on him. Channing’s fist clenched on the armrest of the chair beside me. Ames’s head was turned toward us. Why? To make sure she had our location? She was behaving like Kent’s assistant. She was setting us up. My hands felt numb.
“I told you Ames would turn on us,” Channing muttered to me. “Get ready to run; this could be a trap.”
“For what reason?” I said. “Wire said the charges were dropped. Can Kent be creating new ones against you?”
Paul’s eyes met mine just then, and I saw concern. Was he doubting Ames, too?
There was a loud squeak from the microphone, which turned me back to the man on the steps of the town hall. Kent raised his hands and then lowered them to calm down the crowd.
“I’m announcing today my cooperation with the district attorney’s office into an investigation of five hundred thousand dollars that were stolen from the residents of our town twenty-one years ago that involves your trusted leaders of East End.”
I blinked. That was the same amount Channing’s father had lost. Was Kent targeting my uncle now?
Cameras flashed again.
“Is this related to your resignation from the mayor’s office, Kent?” a man called out.
“Indeed it is. I’m cooperating with the DA’s investigation of Mayor Rick Reynolds and police chief Banford ‘Buzz’ Harper into the half-a-million-dollar theft that took place at Albert Shin’s residence twenty-one years ago.”
A gasp spread throughout the crowd. Including our group at the sidewalk café. The throng erupted with questions. People expressed their alarm. “What proof do you have?” “Who did the money belong to?” “How did they steal it?”
Channing was shocked along with everyone else. She stared at Kent and then at me. I had no words for what I was hearing from that man. Ames seemed elated. Her head was lifted in admiration in Kent’s direction.
“Please, everyone, one minute,” Kent shouted. Finally, the voices died down and Kent said, “I have recorded conversations, and other evidence that I’ve handed over to state authorities.”
“Hasn’t the statute run out if the theft occurred twenty-one years ago?” a woman called out.
“That’s to be determined. There are other factors that I’m not at liberty to say at this moment. Next question?” he replied, almost gleefully.
