Chapter 8: 1976

There weren’t any tears being shed, but close.

“Gonna miss the hell outta yuh,” I said.

“That’s a ditto for me,” said Frank. “Chase, when you get outta here, and you will...”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll wake up one morning and find me camping on your doorstep.”

“And you will for damn sure be welcome.”

Goodbyes spoken and repeated, the guard led the nervous but overwhelmingly happy Frank Lutz down the hall and out of prison. He would still be on parole—ten years’ worth—but he was out and supported by a very powerful man he’d never met, but likely would now.

“Well, I hope you’re ready for a lot of stuff to be happening,” said William Golding.

“I am,” said Frank. “Oh yes I am.”

“Well, good. First a stop for lunch in town, then a long trip down to Scottsdale where you will meet your benefactor, and...”

“And?” said Frank, to a smiling lawyer.

“Your wife. She’s waiting to see you.”

“Oh my God, oh my God!” he said. “I mean it was good to see her at the hearing. I wished that they would have let me stay to hear what she had to say, but...”

“Relax. She’s ready to receive a very tardy husband. You’ll need to be on your best behavior today. But you have some very strong support going forward. Just nod a lot and practice how to say yes as sincerely as you have ever said it.”

“Yes-yes-yes-yes-yes,” said a seriously nervous Frank Lutz.

They pulled into the smallish diner and took seats near the window streetside.

Orders were made and delivered and eaten. There were now two cups of coffee sitting on the table between them.

“You were very lucky to have been paired with my client in C-block,” said William.

“Oh, and don’t I know it,” said Frank. “He should let you help him too, but he just hates the man who...”

“One day, not now, but one day, I may ask you for a favor in order to help out Chase like you say. Would you be good with that?”

“Is that a serious question? Of course I would be good with that. Anything I can do for him I want to do. That’s want!”

“Good,” said William.

The ride south was long. Almost five hours. They pulled into the long driveway of the Cooper compound and parked near the mansion’s entrance.

“Jesus! That’s their house?” said Frank.

“Yes,” said William, “one of them.”

Mounting the steps to the castle’s entrance, Frank was already acting the part of the amazed tourist.

“Man, this is some place,” said Frank. “I know the owner is the guy who ended up with Chase’s wife, right? I mean after Chase was convicted. I mean I know things like that happen...”

“Yes. There’s more to the story, but yes. You’ll be meeting her today. But conversely, you may be one of the lucky ones. Your wife may be inclined to give you a second chance; don’t blow it.” Frank Lutz nodded.

“I hear yuh,” he said.

The buzzer was answered by Zoe, she motioned the two men to enter. Frank, for his part, was a nickel short of being awestruck: The art works, the furnishings, the space. He saw two people standing some little way across the room. Had to be his savior and Chase’s ex-wife. Jesus she was beautiful, he thought; Chase had not exaggerated. The two were dressed very nicely.

William Golding led the newcomer to the host and hostess.

“Mister Cooper, Missus Cooper, this is Frank Lutz, late of Winslow,” said William Golding. The well-dressed couple nodded.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Lutz. Please,” said Herbert, motioning the visitors to follow him.

The library was huge. Walls filled with books. A circular table, seating for six, near a window that looked out on a green field was where the guests were led and seated.

Cassandra appeared with a tray of drinks, white wine, for the assembled and disappeared without a word.

“To new beginnings,” said Herbert. All tilted their glasses in response to the toast and sipped. Frank Lutz had not tasted alcohol in fifteen years; he looked positively joyful at the taste of the fine wine chosen for the occasion; he forced himself to not guzzle it down in one go.

Toasts attended to, Herbert Cooper put his stem glass down and looked over at his primary guest.

“Mister Lutz, I know that mister Golding has told you that you would be meeting your wife this evening, and you will. But before you do, I need to make a few things clear. Would that be all right?” Valerie Cooper had a serious look to her as she observed the proceedings.

“Yes, sure, anything,” said Frank.

“Mister Lutz, many years ago you were convicted of a serious crime. Some seven or eight years ago, you became the cellmate of my wife’s ex-husband, Chase Benedict, who was also convicted of a serious crime. That, teaming you with Chase, was partly due to the efforts of mister Golding here and, well, us.”

“Okay?”

“Mister Lutz,” broke in Valerie, “You were chosen, after a rather serious vetting process, because we felt you would help keep my ex-husband safe, and that without you knowing what it was that we wanted of you. To a large extent that, choosing you, turned out well; you have helped keep him safe.

“My husband,” she nodded toward her husband, “has ways and means of keeping tabs on things in Winslow, and he has. So, we know a lot of your history and Chase’s during these past years. That is why, when Chase asked mister Golding to represent you, we, my husband and I, supported Chase’s request.

“Mister Lutz, we helped you, and will continue to help get you back to living a normal and productive life, but...” said Valerie, who paused for a moment.

“Yes?” said Frank.

“But we will almost certainly ask you, and perhaps your wife, to help us out in the future. We, my husband and I, want to heal the rift between ourselves and Chase. We have tried to do so in the past, but, well, Chase doesn’t like us very much. Helping you out is at the same time our way of giving something to Chase that he may appreciate enough to cut some ice with him in that regard. Do you understand?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am. Chase has told me stuff over the years. I will do what I can to help you and Chase to be friends again, but I have to say that Chase is very bitter about some stuff. Chase has been hurt a lot inside—beatings, sexual abuse, well, a lot of stuff. I’ve done my best to help him out; he’s my friend, but well, there are limits. The man sometimes almost tries to get in to situations ... I just don’t know...”

“I know. We know. We understand what we will be asking will not be easy. He’s been in prison for ten years, and he will not even hear of letting us help him out as we have helped you out. But, like I say, we are far from done trying, and that for many reasons,” she said.

“Okay?” said Frank.

“At any rate, Frank,” said Herbert, “mister Golding will be taking you to your home now; really, your wife’s home. Likewise, he will be laying out for you, again, the requirements of your parole, which must be followed to the letter. I know you know the basics already, but there are some other matters that are being added to the mix because I am vouching for you per your employment and your general behavior. Such requirements may at first seem a bit draconian; but which are nevertheless a must so that you, and really all of us, can succeed in these matters. All right?”

“Yes, sir, whatever you say shall be so,” he said. Herbert Cooper nodded and tendered his hand across the table to the newly released convict. His look was a serious look. The men shook. Two minutes later, goodbyes spoken, the ex-convict and his lawyer were on the road.

“I know you must realize that mister Cooper is not kidding, Frank. The rules must be followed. Getting you out took a deal of political capital; capital that must not end up having been wasted. So apart from keeping your appointments with your PO: no weapons of any kind, no cavorting with anyone with a criminal history, no barroom fights, no heavy drinking, no womanizing. I mean you get the picture. Some of the things I just listed are also parole rules, the rest are Cooper rules. Okay?” said William.