Down the Rabbit Hole: The cost of keeping secrets

“No, no!” said the Queen. “Sentence first—verdict afterwards.” —Chapter 12, Alice’s Evidence

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“There is a source somewhere that has potentially violated the law and provided y’all with that information,” said the Wharton County District Attorney’s investigator. “I’m going to ask you who that individual was that you got that information from.”

“And I’m going to respectfully decline to answer that, sir,” I replied.

It’s 11:38 a.m. on a Tuesday and I’m sitting in a small office at the Wharton County District Attorney’s Office with its chief investigator and the district attorney herself.

Earlier that day, a former Wharton County Sheriff’s Office deputy had taken his own life. Preliminary autopsy results showed that he died from self-inflicted gunshot wounds to the chest and head. This was after my article exposing him was published and thousands of readers flocked to the page. The website was temporarily shut down due to immense traffic. I remember the feeling of hitting the “publish” button — how freeing it was to be relieved of this information I’d been keeping for several months since I was first made aware of his alleged sexual abuse and illicit behavior.

Now, I was sitting in this dusty room in the corner of the district attorney’s office and I was keeping a secret.

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You’d never know just from the looks of me how many secrets I can keep at once. The onus of keeping a secret depends on how much weight it carries. As a journalist, I am a keeper of secrets, both small and large.

Any time someone tells me something is “off the record,” it’s a secret. One that I’m willing to go to jail for.

This test of will came to a head when investigating ongoing sexual abuse allegations at the hands of the former Wharton County Sheriff’s Deputy (who will remain nameless in order to protect both the innocent and the guilty).

I had done my homework at that point — gotten hard-earned records of his previous illicit behavior to speak to a pattern of abuse and spoken with the alleged victim in this case. It came after hours of intense interviews with her and law enforcement officials who stood as a testament to how justice was delayed, but not yet denied. I knew an indictment was coming. The Texas Attorney General’s Office had been working toward this for months, just as I had.

When it came down and was sealed, I had no idea what the article was going to spark. Whose hands was it going to fall into? Indeed, the public’s hands. What action would be prompted should it fall into my subject’s hands? I hadn’t really considered this. I did my due diligence regardless.

What I did not know then was that the subject would come to take his life upon reading my article.

What I did not know then is that its publication would lead to an investigation into my sources, who confirmed details of the charges and the existence of an indictment.

There are many things I regret as a journalist and I try my best to turn these errors into teachable moments for the young reporters that come to the Hays Free Press/News-Dispatch.

I regret a lot of mistakes I have made in my decade-long career. I regret errors and misspellings and hard-learned lessons along the way. I regret publishing pre-trial information. I regret the mistrials. I regret the corrections.

I regret a lot of errors I made in the publishing of this story alone. I regret not waiting until the indictment was unsealed. I regret the fact that the Texas Rangers were not surveilling the subject more thoroughly. I regret the fact that the defendant chose to take his life rather than face justice.

I regret the fact that the victim never had the chance to face her accuser. Perhaps, of all these regrets, this is what chips away at me the most — what I still call a mistake even when I tuck it in at night.

When a Texas Ranger showed up at my house with a subpoena to hand over my confidential sources, I was indignant, ready to face the consequences of my actions. Still, I refused to speak to enraged investigators. I was prepared to testify before a grand jury to invoke my rights as a journalist and a citizen. I was ready to stay quiet. No matter the costs.

That day never came. Eventually, the case was dropped.

Even with these regrets in mind, I will surely make more mistakes as my tenure as a journalist stretches on. But I will wear these faults like a badge of honor, like scars that show exactly where I’ve been.

And I will continue to keep these secrets proudly, quietly, no matter the wreckage.

Frels is the editor of the Hays Free Press/News-Dispatch. She can be reached at [email protected].