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Aug. 27th, 2005 11:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seymoure“Forgotten Files”
Pappy met Evan Turley at the Trooper Headquarters at 9:00 in the morning. It was the old man’s hope that he would find something that would make sense to him that Gates might have overlooked.
Pappy didn’t really distrust Porter, but was sure that the boy had become someone more interested in moving himself forward than just about anything else. That was a fatal flaw in anyone
looking for the absolute truth. And the absolute truth was what Hannibal Agamemnon was all about.
Evan and Pappy launched into every piece of the boxes and boxes of evidence the Troopers provided with the merest show of an FBI badge.
“So, how do you like the agency?” Pappy tossed over his shoulder as he groomed the printed files, looking for anything that looked out of place.
“Things I like, things I don’t,” Said the man, totally involved with the search. This is the kind of commitment investigation needs, Pappy thought as he turned to see the young man go at it.
“Like?” Pappy pushed.
“I hate the paper work, great heaping mounds of it,” Evan said, “But, boy does that badge get you into worlds you never thought you’d see.”
They spent a lot of time in silence and studious engagement, but the questions were hovering over the room.
“Have you talked to Porter?” Pappy ventured.
“Called him to congratulate him on the election,” Evan said, “Not much other contact. He has moved on and I don’t have a lot to offer him.”
“He certainly seems driven,” Han offered.
“I knew that from the time he arrived at the Troopers’ first meeting. I was his superior then,” Evan mused, “And I could have ended his career right then.”
“Did he have some dark thing in his file folder that you had to get rid of for him?” Pappy smiled.
“No, nothing like that,” The Agent said, “He didn’t have a paper black mark you could pin down.”
They worked on for another 20 minutes.
“You have breakfast yet, Pappy,” Evan wondered.
“Bel wouldn’t hear otherwise,” The old man said, “You?”
“I could send out for some eggs. I’ll be right back.”
Pappy kept looking for the elusive clues while his younger partner went out and ordered something to eat.
The young man returned with coffee, which Pappy happily accepted.
The two men took a breath, then Pappy asked, “What was it that you had to do to save Porter’s Trooper career?”
“Well, you know that Troopers are not allowed to have tattoos. He had some stupid tattoo on his arm and I had to help him find someone to get it removed.”
Pappy froze.
“It was obviously one of those things he did as a kid, but it almost cost him.”
Pappy’s eyes slammed shut tight.
“Even though it showed he wanted to join, he would have lost the chance to do so because of it.”
“What do you mean?” The old man asked.
“He had a tattoo with the initials for ‘Brothers of the Uniform.’ Some kind of club for boys who wanted to be police.”
The first of many tears burrowed down Pappy’s cheek.
© 2005 by C. Wayne Owens
