Lost in Clover Read online

  The students repeated a resounding “amen.” Jeremy inhaled and opened his eyes. He looked around. Some students were crying and hugging. Others held their heads down, occupying their own personal space. A few had their chins up with forced smiles, doing the Kansas stiff upper lip.

  “You may return to your classes,” the principal said.

  A murmur grew as the students made their way down the bleacher steps. Jeremy felt relieved. He had been dreading classes and the inevitable assembly, but he had held it together. Perhaps the worst was over. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Carrie. Whenever he’d bump into her throughout the years, a spasm of happiness coursed through his veins. But today he felt a twinge of uneasiness.

  “Hey Jeremy, how was your summer?” Her eyes were red, but she smiled beautifully.

  “Brutal. I mowed lawns and did some roofs.”

  Carrie’s expression changed. “Did you work with Kevin?”

  Jeremy nodded. “I did. I was with him the day he got shot.”

  “Holy crap.” She grabbed his hand. “You should see one of the therapists they brought here.”

  “I don’t need that,” Jeremy said, jerking his hand away. “I mean, I wasn’t shot at, you know. I didn’t see anything. Nothing at all.” Jeremy took a breath. This was ridiculous. He felt like he was being accused even though he knew better. It was Carrie after all. He had never known a purer heart.

  Carrie’s empathetic brown eyes mixed with hurt and curiosity studied Jeremy. Her empty hand remained open where she had held his.

  She said, “I can’t help thinking about how Crazy Eddie never liked us since—”

  “That birthday party.” Jeremy completed her sentence. Carrie smiled at him. Good God, she was gorgeous, Jeremy thought. He then felt a surge of panic as they stood staring at each other for a moment too long. “Yeah, I uh… I see why he’s a nut case and all with that screwed up family, but he needs to take it out on his dad, not us.”

  The school bell rang. Carrie nodded.

  “Where you going now?” she asked.

  “Geometry. And you?”

  “Trig.”

  “That’s right, advanced track.”

  “Yep, AP calculus next year. Maybe calc two at Emporia College my senior year.”

  “That’s awesome. My goal is to keep good grades, you know.”

  “You will,” she said with another radiant smile. “It was great talking to you, Jeremy.”

  “You too.”

  He stood watching her walk out of the gym until Matt Hendershot slapped him on the back.

  “Rogers, what’s up, brotha? Saw you talking to Carrie. She’s really gotten hot all of sudden. Who knew?”

  “Yeah. How are you, Matt?”

  “School sucks. And it’s the first day.”

  They walked back to their classes, Matt talking and Jeremy nodding, but not listening. His mind was fixated on Carrie.

  11. THE CALM BEFORE

  A week after the reporters left, Clover felt emptier than it ever had. The vacant lots, unoccupied parking spots, and lonely cafe booths reinforced a notion of insignificance. Even the spaces between buildings seemed wider. But without the outsiders around and extra time to absorb the tragedy, citizens seemed freer to voice differing opinions. A few asked why the boys were up on the property to begin with, and, besides Kevin Diamond, weren’t most of them known troublemakers? But it was usually an aside, as most conversations concerned Randy Cochran’s health and the evilness of Crazy Eddie. Jeremy, like everybody in Clover, prayed for Randy’s recovery; however, he included the caveat of memory loss.

  Jeremy felt he held a dirty secret that nobody had figured out yet. Why had he given those idiots directions? Why didn’t he keep his mouth shut? The boys had been hell-bent on finding Crazy Eddie, and most likely would have, he tried to rationalize. It wasn’t my fault, he kept telling himself, wanting to believe, but finding it hollow.

  A preliminary hearing was held in Paola to determine whether Crazy Eddie would be tried as a minor or not. Reports came back to Clover saying that Crazy Eddie was cuffed to his chair after threatening to kill his public defender at the hearing. He was declared an adult and would be tried in a full courtroom. A trial date was set in eight months. As the weeks led to months, anticipation grew. Would Crazy Eddie freak out in the courtroom? Would Randy come out of his coma? How quick could the jury sentence Crazy Eddie to death?

  The reporters came back to Clover for the trial in late April with a vengeance. It seemed as if they had doubled in numbers. Although there was an uneasy feeling, most of the citizens were privately glad that they were back. The eerie stillness they had left last time was unnerving.

  For Jeremy, the past eight months had gone from bad to worse. He’d been able to maintain passing grades and socialize during the fall, but he found himself caring less about grades and increasingly wanting to be alone. He hated Friday and Saturday nights because of the pressure: pressure to attend parties and talk to people. Group dynamics—everybody in agreement concerning inane issues or idiots staking out dumbass opinions to get a rise out of others—unnerved him. He’d rather be in the basement playing video games in his own mind space that he didn’t have to share. When he turned sixteen, Jeremy bought a used Ford Ranger. Besides driving to school, it became a vehicle of escape. He could run home or leave the house, cruising on random rural roads past vast empty fields or parking by a creek and watching the mucky waters flow. As the trial got closer, Jeremy’s grades dipped to barely passing and insomnia hit. Three hours of sleep was a good night. He felt lucky that his name had not been mentioned in any way regarding the massacre…yet.

  PART 2: THE TRIAL

  12. SLEEPLESS

  Jeremy did not sleep the night before the trial. He felt certain that he would be taken by police officers to the courthouse and forced to testify that he led the boys to Crazy Eddie’s so that boy-giant could slaughter them. Tossing and turning, Jeremy’s heart raced in panic. He clenched his teeth and dug his fingers into his pillow. When another surge of adrenaline hit, he jolted upright, taking deep breathes. He tried not to think about the trial, desperately tried not to think of anything at all except for breathing.

  Eventually, Jeremy’s heart rate settled, and he closed his eyes, starting to drift off. Suddenly his heart would seize up and pump like crazy. This happened all night long. He wanted to tell his parents he was having a heart attack, but going to an emergency room meant attention and questions. He didn’t want that. Not if he could help it.

  After five in the morning, Jeremy managed to fall asleep. Then his cell phone rang. He jumped in a panic. They were coming for him. Did the prosecution need another witness to testify, or did defense want him to say the murders weren’t Crazy Eddie’s fault? One or the other. Dear citizens of Clover, Jeremy Rogers, a high school sophomore and the lawnmower man, led your sons to a massacre.

  Jeremy found his pants ringing on the floor. He dug through the pockets and pulled out his phone. To his relief, it was Carrie. Why so early?

  “What are you up to?” she asked in a cheery voice.

  “Sleeping. Or trying to. What’s up?”

  “You wanna see the trial today?”

  “What?”

  “The trial. I’m standing in line with about fifty other people.”

  “What about school tomorrow…or today, I mean?”

  “Skip it. Besides, a bunch of us are here. We’re all going to get in trouble. But, we can argue this is a learning experience you can’t get in school.”

  The last place Jeremy wanted to be was in the courthouse. He didn’t want somebody pointing at him and shouting, “He’s the one.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on Jeremy. Do it for me. Puleeze?”

  Jeremy felt his heart flitter, but differently.

  “What about Michelle?” he asked. She was Carrie’s best friend and biggest rival. They seemed to do everything together except when they were fighting. Although she wa
s physically hot, Jeremy saw Michelle as dense and shallow.

  “She’s here…with Zack.” Her voice dropped in tone when she mentioned her more than once ex-boyfriend. She didn’t need to elaborate. “Can you be here with me, Jeremy? I’d really appreciate it.”

  Jeremy sighed. How could he say no?

  13. WAITING

  By the time Jeremy penned a note saying he had to be at school early and left the house, a line of people circled the courthouse. Sunlight had yet to break. Jeremy recognized almost everybody. They ranged from middle-schoolers to the gray hairs. He joined Carrie near the front of the line. She gave him a hug and an unexpected kiss on the cheek.

  “Can you believe all of the folks who showed up to this?” She seemed incredibly happy to see him.

  “Not this early. Anybody heard of sleep?” Jeremy said with a smile.

  “Looks like you haven’t got any yourself,” Carrie said, reaching for his face. He flinched.

  “I’m fine. Just restless.” He wanted to change the topic. “How long have people been here?”

  “Some spent the night here, like those folks,” she said, pointing to a couple sitting on folding lawn chairs inside sleeping bags pulled up to their chins.

  “Who are they?”

  “Don’t know. Might be Crazy Eddie’s people or maybe just some curious folks from out of town.”

  Jeremy spotted Michelle Anders and Zack Utley up ahead. They held each other closely around the waist. He also noticed a few important people were missing.

  “I don’t see L.T. Diamond or any of those boys’ families.”

  “I don’t think they have to stand in line. It’s like a VIP thing.”

  Feeling pressure creep into his chest, Jeremy exhaled. He didn’t want be around the families if he could help it. “I don’t get it. So why do you want to be here? It’ll be on the news tonight.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t get it? This is history, right here, in Clover freaking Kansas. It’s something I can tell my children and grandchildren about, you know. It’s like that OJ Simpson thing. But it’s our generation’s big event, at least here, and what’s even crazier is that we knew everybody involved.”

  Jeremy nodded, but felt irritated by Carrie. Didn’t she see this was an awful phenomenon? There was lightheartedness amongst most of the people standing in line, as if there were waiting for a movie on a Friday night in Emporia. He’d already heard more than once from different voices, “I wonder if Crazy Eddie will be any bigger” and “They’re going to fry him.”

  Carrie nudged Jeremy. “Penny for your thoughts. You seem to be deep in your head.”

  “I keep thinking about Crazy Eddie’s birthday party. Can’t shake it.”

  She searched his eyes, as if trying to gauge whether she was supposed to laugh at Crazy Eddie’s past or be morose.

  “What’s gotten into you? You’ve pretty much disappeared since the massacre. You didn’t see the counselors, did you?”

  Jeremy shook his head.

  “You’ve got to get it out of your system. Those murders were awful, but you got to keep moving. I cried for two days straight when I heard about it, you know. I was sick with grief. But then it was out of my system. I’m here to watch the trial and see that Crazy Eddie gets what he deserves. I think watching the trial might help you.”

  She stared at Jeremy until he had to turn away. “Suppose you’re right,” he mumbled.

  She squeezed his arm. “Maybe you should see a counselor.”

  Jeremy stiffened. “I don’t need to see anybody. I think I’m just sleepy, that’s all.” He forced a smile. “Thanks for saving me a place in line. This will be fun.”

  14. OPENING DAY

  A little before eight, courthouse officials arrived, shaking their heads in disbelief. The line stretched for two blocks down Main Street.

  “You know we can’t fit all of you in,” a security guard told the crowd with a chuckle.

  “Never seen anything like this in my life, never,” an older clerk said loudly to a younger colleague as they walked by Carrie and Jeremy.

  “Never been anything like this, you old coot,” Carrie muttered to Jeremy.

  Two sheriff deputies had been circling the area all night in their patrol cars and a new pair replaced them in the morning. A hush flowed through the crowd when the county correctional van passed by and parked in back of the courthouse. The sheriff’s cruiser followed close behind.

  “Did you see him?” several people asked out loud.

  “I hope he makes a run for it and Sheriff Hensley shoots him dead,” somebody said to the chuckles of others.

  A handful of junior high kids ran to the back of the courthouse and then came back minutes later to spread the news. They had seen Crazy Eddie. And he was bigger and meaner than ever before, according to Timmy Lynch.

  “He was wa…wea…wearing orange and had a bunch of tattoos.”

  “He’s got a shaved head too,” Gregg Anders added.

  Jeremy and Carrie saw Crazy Eddie an hour later. They were in the first group of sixty to be seated. When Crazy Eddie was brought out, it seemed like his already enormous physical body had grown even more since his arrest. His bulging muscles seemed to have doubled in size. As reported, he had tattoos running all over his arms and it looked like the bottom of a swastika peeked under a sleeve of his orange jumpsuit. He kept his shaved head down, but carried a savage scowl. “No remorse,” Jeremy heard whispered behind him.

  More people were let into the courtroom until it was standing room only. There had been rumors about who was on the jury. Everybody knew somebody, but some of the talk was obviously wrong since many of the names bandied around were sitting in the audience. When the door opened for the jury box, it seemed there was just as much excitement to see who they were as there had been to see Crazy Eddie. Walking in first was Thomas Ginty. A staunch outspoken conservative with bumper sticker slogans on his truck to prove it. He walked to the jury box, trying to stare down Crazy Eddie.

  “Since Mr. Ginty is on the jury, Crazy Eddie will hang for sure,” somebody said.

  But when librarian Edna White, physics teacher Ralph Newton, and Presbyterian minister Ronald Edwards entered, the tone in the room changed.

  “Edwards, he’s a liberal minister,” the first voice said.

  “All three of them are,” another person said.

  “They’re not all ministers,” Carrie said, causing a slight chuckle around her.

  The rest of jury included Jessup Cotton, a retired farmer; Anne Fischer, a sewing shop owner; Hailey Granger, a tax accountant; homemaker Cynthia Garrison; and Janelle Hughes, a single mother who worked part-time at the IGA grocery store.

  The bailiff told everybody to stand, and Judge Roy Rhinehart entered. He was a short, round man, and known to be jovial when not wearing the robe, but in the courtroom he wore a stern frown.

  “Be seated,” he said as he eased into his chair. He looked around and exhaled. “This is the most people we’ve ever had in this courtroom in the history of Clover. I’m only going to say this once: any outburst and I will throw all of you out here. I might even throw in a contempt of court charge to the loudmouth. This is serious business here, and we have several weeks up ahead, so sit tight and be quiet.”

  He then turned his attention to the lawyers and talked in legal jargon that Jeremy knew only bits and pieces of from TV. The prosecution was led by Carson McKinney, a balding man in his late forties who had made an unsuccessful run in the Republican primaries for state Attorney General. Everybody knew him from the ads and billboards from his campaign. Ever since he became lead prosecutor on the case, he had been on the radio, TV, and papers discussing the case.

  Carson kicked off the opening arguments detailing the savagery that the accused “Mr. Eddie Cooper” had committed when killing fine upstanding young men of Clover. He asked the jurors to consider the families that lost their sons to such a heartless murderer and to give them the justice that was rightfully theirs. Crazy
Eddie didn’t help himself either, staring cold hateful looks at Carson.

  “The evidence will show that this is not a case of accidental homicide, ladies and gentlemen, but rather of a wicked and sadistic man without remorse or conscious, who committed the most heinous crime in the history of Clover. You must find Eddie Cooper guilty of first-degree murder not only for the victims’ families, but also for the citizens of Clover and all of Kansas. We cannot as a society have a man like Eddie walking the streets ever again.”

  Carson walked back to his table with a half-cocked, self-satisfied smile.

  The defense was led by Lawrence Elliot, a young man who had graduated from the University of Kansas School of Law a few years earlier and was rumored to be a card carrying ACLU member. Who else but an ACLU freak would want to free a killer? Crazy Eddie had been given a couple of public defenders, but had refused to cooperate with them. Then Lawrence stepped up out the blue and took the case pro bono. He declared to the media that “a travesty of justice was happening” and he was going “to salvage what I can and make sure that Eddie Copper gets the best representation possible.” In a baffling twist, he had demanded that the trial be held in Clover instead of Paola as originally scheduled.

  People in Clover initially scoffed at the twenty-seven year old upstart trying to take on a seasoned prosecutor like Carson McKinney. But when Lawrence stood for his opening argument, some women in the audience leaned forward with rapt attentiveness they neglected to give Carson. Jeremy noticed Carrie’s longing look. Lawrence was tall and handsome. His trim body was accentuated in a tailor-cut suit. Where Carson came across as salt of the earth, Lawrence had a debonair confidence unknown to Clover. Even before he opened his mouth, Jeremy hated him.