Read Online The Fourth Motive by Sean Lynch - Free Book Online

edge of the bed, which was the only other piece
     of furniture in the apartment. Farrell resumed his seat.
    “So how’re you doing, Kevin?” Farrell punctuated his question with a swig from his
     flask.
    “Getting by. No complaints.”
    “Still going to school?”
    Kearns nodded. “I’m a senior now, if it matters. Most of my credits from Iowa State
     transferred to Cal State Hayward. With any luck, I’ll have my bachelor’s by Christmas.”
    “When do you find time to study?”
    “That’s a good question. I’m up every morning before dawn and at school by seven.
     I barely have time to commute from Hayward to the gym in Alameda after class in the
     afternoon, and don’t get off work until past eleven. I work double shifts both days
     on weekends.”
    “How’re the finances holding up?”
    “I’m making ends meet,” Kearns said, taking a pull from the bottle. “Got no college
     debt, which is all that matters right now. And as you can see” – Kearns swept the
     tiny apartment’s water-stained walls with his beer bottle – “I’m living a life of
     opulence.”
    “I looked in your garbage can when I was searching for an ashtray,” Farrell smirked.
     “Macaroni and cheese and canned tuna ain’t exactly an opulent diet.”
    “It fills the belly,” Kearns said.
    “That it does. How are the police applications going?”
    “Don’t ask,” Kearns said, rubbing his brow.
    “You still running into a wall at the background check?
    “Yeah. Eight so far this year. I’ve still got a couple of applications out. I figure
     I’ll go to an even ten before I throw in the towel.”
    “I’m sorry, Kevin.”
    Kearns had been consistently applying to Bay Area police departments for most of the
     past year. Part of the deal that Farrell arranged with the federal prosecutors was
     to expunge Kearns’ record of arrest and the criminal charges he and Farrell had accrued
     during their search for Vernon Slocum. But as Kearns soon found out, sealing a record
     and keeping people from talking about it were two different things.
    Each time Kearns applied to a police department, he aced the written test, slam-dunked
     the physical agility test, and easily managed the oral interview. His experience as
     a deputy sheriff back in Iowa, as well as his military training, ensured he was always
     at the top of the hiring list.
    As soon as Kearns’ application reached the background investigation phase, however,
     his candidacy as a police recruit would be mysteriously terminated. Eight times in
     as many months, Kearns received a form letter from the police background investigator
     stating he was no longer being considered as a viable candidate. No reason was given,
     and by California civil service rules, none was required.
    But he knew the truth. The reason he continued to have his police applications torpedoed
     was because his name was on a list. A federal list. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
     Kearns could never prove it, but the word had been put out: he’d been blackballed.
     Farrell knew it, too.
    “Kevin,” Farrell began softly. “You don’t have to live like this. You’ve got nothing
     to prove. Move in with me until you find something solid, or at least until you finish
     your college degree.”
    “That’s a generous offer,” Kearns said, “but I can’t. You live in San Francisco. If
     I move in with you, everybody is going to think we’re dating.” He finished his beer
     in one long gulp. “Not that I have anything against gay people, mind you,” he said.
     “It’s just that you’re not my type.”
    “Too sophisticated for a bumpkin like you?”
    “Too shady.” Kearns got up to get another beer.
    “That’s your pride talking,” Farrell said, not unkindly.
    “Maybe,” Kearns conceded, popping the bottle cap with the attachment on his pocketknife.
    “So, what’s your plan? Keep filing futile police applications until your hair goes
     gray?”
    “I’ll give it until I graduate