Bill Harvey Collection

by Peter O'Mahoney

  The remorse that Andrew Hardgrave suffered was clear. He acknowledged that it was all his fault and that he had ruined Michelle’s young life. When at his worst, he turned to AA for help. He went to rehab and came out wanting to redeem himself.

  It took years, but he started to turn his life around.

  He volunteered at schools, donated a lot of his wealth to the disadvantaged, and mentored people to do positive things in the world. When Andrew Hardgrave and Bill Harvey first met, they felt like kindred spirits. They wanted to make a difference. They wanted to leave the world a better one than the one they were born into.

  The Harvey family was no stranger to drug addiction, either. Harvey’s younger brother, Jonathon, went missing twenty years ago, after becoming addicted to heroin. It was a painful journey. Jonathon stole from his family, lashed out at his parents, and constantly swore at everyone. His descent into addiction almost tore the family apart.

  When Jonathon lashed out and hit his mother, Harvey took matters into his own hands. He beat Jonathon, brutally, and told him never to return.

  That was twenty years ago, and nobody had seen him since.

  It was still Harvey’s greatest heartache.

  He understood the pain that Hardgrave felt when watching his daughter wither away—he had the same pain with his brother.

  He searched for his lost brother for many years, but never found a trace of him. He thought he had a lead in Florida, but that turned out to be a dead end. Now, all he hoped was that his brother was well, and had won the battle against addiction.

  Ever since that night many years ago, it tore Harvey up that he pushed his brother away. If he could see his brother one more time, just for a moment, he would say everything that was left unsaid and ask for forgiveness.

  Andrew Hardgrave would never have that chance with his daughter.

  Chapter 8

  Roberto Miles walked out of his Montebello house just past seven.

  He looked like the wealthy man he was. Rolex watch. Ralph Lauren shirt. Armani slacks. Ferragamo shoes. He walked with his head held high, full of confidence and bravado. He didn’t go far.

  His black Audi was parked on the sidewalk near his house. Perfectly matching his outfit.

  Despite the obvious trimmings of excess wealth, Roberto Miles was a man with a long criminal record. Whereas Juan Lewis escaped the clutches of the law, Roberto knew police officers by their first name. If the police printed his rap sheet, they would need to change the roll of paper on the printer halfway through.

  Bill Harvey didn’t have much to go on. Nobody on the streets talked about these men. Those that knew Roberto Miles and Juan Lewis, also knew what they could do. Their digital footprint was as non-existent as the word on the street. They weren’t interested in splashing themselves across social media. They had no need to tell everyone how rich they were—everyone already knew that.

  There was no easy method for gathering information on Miles or Lewis. Finding information about them involved old-fashioned investigative work. The hard yards.

  Harvey followed the Audi as it drove for an hour, staying two to three cars behind, trying to go unnoticed.

  The Audi parked on Rodeo Drive, double-parked outside a bar, the sort of place where old rich men buy drinks for beautiful young women.

  Harvey found a spot further down the street to park and made his way back to the bar. He had no idea what he was going to find. More than likely, Miles was just meeting someone for a drink and looking to have his ego boosted by an attractive, young, gold-digging woman. Still, it was worth a shot to see the sort of circles that Miles floated in.

  The bar was packed, the crowd mingling freely with each other, making it hard to spot Miles and who he was meeting. The dim lighting didn’t help either.

  Harvey pulled out his phone for two reasons. One, if he needed to duck his head to avoid detection, he could look down at his phone quickly, and two, the camera on the smartphone made it easier to snap a quick picture.

  He looked through the crowd from just inside the door, and couldn’t see Miles on the first pass.

  Looking back down at his phone, he pretended to read an email, looking as if he was waiting for a friend as he leaned against one of the walls. Nothing unusual.

  When he gazed up from his phone, he caught sight of the tall Mexican seated at the opposite end of the bar.

  He was talking to someone. Quietly. Tactfully.

  This wasn’t a loud conversation that he wanted people to hear.

  This was discreet and deliberate.

  Nobody from his East L.A. drug operation would risk being seen there. This was a secret meeting in public. Harvey moved between two other businessmen, trying to get a better vantage point to see who Miles was talking to.

  He moved to his left to get a better angle, to get a clear view of the person.

  Moving smoothly, he shot a glance at the end of the bar.

  What?

  He looked again.

  Harvey’s heart kicked into overdrive. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen.

  Maybe it was the dim lighting. Maybe he was mistaken.

  He looked again, holding the stare.

  Dim lighting, crowded or not, he hadn’t made a mistake.

  Roberto Miles was quietly swapping information with a detective.

  A detective Harvey knew very well.

  Chapter 9

  “Pitt,” Harvey mumbled under his breath.

  He worked his way through the crowd, past the throng of people desperate to get noticed. He stepped into the bright sunshine, shocking his vision, taking a few moments for his eyes to adapt.

  The question buzzed through his head.

  What was Pitt doing? That wasn’t a formal meeting. Not a police interview.

  It was a quiet discussion with a possible suspect in the unsolved Judge Hardgrave murder case. Was Pitt an inside man for Miles, screwing the force? Screwing justice?

  Surely not. Not his friend. Harvey knew how to read people and nobody could play him that well. If Pitt were dirty, he would know. Wouldn’t he?

  The doubt grew easily in his mind. What had he missed? What had he not seen?

  Harvey walked to his car in a fog of thoughts, sat in the driver’s seat, and drew a long deep breath.

  Was this why Hardgrave’s killer hadn’t been charged?

  Was there a dirty cop protecting them all?

  This was the biggest murder case of the year, and the LAPD hadn’t even made an arrest. They hadn’t even presented a suspect to the public.

  Something in the murder case wasn’t right. Something was wrong.

  Harvey had known Pitt for many years. Their friendship was strong, and their trust was stronger.

  But Pitt had just bought a new house. Larger. Nicer. A good suburb. “My share investments went up,” he said. He had just returned from a luxury cruise through parts of Europe. “I sold some shares,” he said.

  And maybe that was true.

  Or maybe he was taking payments from somewhere else.

  Despite Harvey’s great respect for the men and women in blue, most of the force hated Bill Harvey. That was understandable. His job was to make their arrests look invalid, their evidence looks shoddy, or their paperwork look incomplete. While they risked their lives to protect justice on a small wage, he argued in a courtroom for a nice pay check. He understood their resentment.

  But Pitt was different.

  He had a bond with Pitt; one that went beyond their jobs.

  He had first met Pitt when he graduated as a lawyer—a chance meeting in a L.A. dive bar. Pitt was fascinated by Harvey’s previous job as a hypnotherapist, and their bond was instant. They joked, they laughed, and they drank. The perfect male companions.

  Even as their careers progressed, they joined each other every week for a Tuesday after-work drink.

  But maybe it wasn’t a coincidence.

  Maybe Pitt had played him from the start. Maybe Pitt had heard of Harvey’s skills and
sought to exploit them. There had certainly been occasions where Harvey had shared more than what was needed.

  But the exchange generally went both ways.

  Pitt shared information that Harvey required. Nothing unlawful, only a gentle nudge in the right direction. It was a good professional partnership, as much as it was an escape from their jobs.

  But it was more than that.

  It was a genuine bond. A real connection. Two men trying to do their best, for themselves and their community.

  But now Bill Harvey had to test that bond, and find out how close Pitt was playing to the line.

  Chapter 10

  The lighting in the bar was dim, as was the atmosphere. The floor was sticky, the tables dirty, and the shelves were filled with cheap spirits. The only noise came from the two televisions at the end of the bar; one playing the baseball, the other playing college football.

  Bill Harvey was comfortable drinking alone, staring into his whiskey, thinking about nothing in particular. It was only once the soft touch of Kate’s hand rested on his shoulder that he was brought back to reality.

  “Kate?” he asked in slight surprise. “How did you know I was here?”

  “You had that look in your eyes when you left the office. The last time I saw that look, you stumbled back into the office six hours later stinking of whiskey.”

  He remembered that moment. He had been told that one of his former clients had committed suicide—too ashamed that they had been tarnished with the guilty brush. He had told his client, Jessica Tate Wilson, to take a deal, even though she was protesting her innocence. The deal involved a fine for minor theft, but no criminal record. He thought the deal was the best option. If the case had gone to court, Jessica would have been charged. There was evidence that she stole from Walmart, but she claimed it was all a mistake. She took the deal, and her very religious family found out. They didn’t want to be associated with a criminal. They abandoned her.

  He felt responsible for the woman’s fate. He felt it was his fault that her life fell apart. When he returned to the office, he was drunk, vulnerable, and alone.

  That was the moment when he almost told Kate how he felt about her.

  Almost.

  “What’s up?” Kate playfully punched him in the arm, like a little sister teasing her tough brother.

  “Jonathon.” Harvey stared into his glass. The name came out of his mouth before he had the chance to think about what he was saying.

  “Your brother?” Her voice inflected surprise.

  This wasn’t the first time that he had mentioned his brother to Kate, but she hadn’t heard his name in a long time. Jonathon had played on Harvey’s mind his whole life, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

  Bill Harvey knew how to fix most things, but there was one thing he couldn’t fix, one thing that was beyond his capability: his family.

  His late wife had talked about having children in the future, but he had balked at the idea. When she was first diagnosed with cancer five years ago, he felt guilty for not giving her the family she wanted. A year later, he was burying the only family he ever felt really comfortable with.

  Although his early childhood in a small farming community was pleasant, the years since have brought him nothing but heartache. His brother, Jonathon, younger by eight years, became addicted to drugs in his late teens. It was a rollercoaster ride, and not a fun one. His entire family was devastated as they watched the high school quarterback slowly fall into a world of pain and anguish.

  It tore them apart.

  They tried everything. Everything.

  Counselors. Friends. Psychologists. Locking him in his room. Moving towns. Nothing stopped Jonathon’s need for heroin. Nothing stopped his need for another high.

  It hit his father the hardest. It was his greatest failing as a man.

  His distant father, who Harvey adored, decided one morning to eat a bullet for breakfast, and his dear mother never recovered.

  That was when Harvey first became fond of the taste of whiskey.

  “Michelle Hardgrave, the judge’s daughter, was estranged from her father for years. She was battling a drug addiction. That triggered memories of Jonathon for me.” Harvey swirled the whiskey in his glass, the ice clinking on the sides. “The drugs, the turmoil, the chaos. It all comes flooding back. The fear in Jonathon’s eyes when he was so far into addiction, that will never leave me. And I can’t stand it, Kate. I should be able to forget about it, leave it in the past, but I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  “And so you thought you could stay in a bar all night and that would help?”

  “It usually does.”

  “You can’t keep doing this, Bill. One day, you’ll have to face your emotions. Otherwise, they’ll just keep coming back, worse and worse each time.”

  Harvey shrugged his shoulders. Like his father, he refused to get drawn into emotional conversations.

  “We all have our past. Even Judge Hardgrave made a lot of mistakes.”

  “Don’t change the subject, Bill,” Kate replied. “This is about you, not Hardgrave.”

  He shook his head, whispering quietly into his glass. “I’m not ready.”

  In silence, they sat at the bar, the thoughts racing through their heads.

  When many minutes of silence had passed, Kate redirected the conversation back to work, back to the topic that made Harvey feel most comfortable.

  “Hardgrave didn’t seem like the type of person that would be estranged from his daughter,” Kate added. “He seemed like such a nice guy. He was always so lovely to me when he came into the office. Very charming and sweet for an old man.”

  “That’s the Hardgrave we knew, but he was not the same man in the past. He spent the last ten years of his life working for redemption, and he genuinely wanted to do better in the world. He wanted to make a difference. But he was another man once.”

  “How so?”

  “He used to beat his first wife. Regularly.” Harvey sighed. “Michelle witnessed that and abandoned him after her mother died of cancer. Hardgrave and his daughter didn’t speak for another five years.”

  “Oh.” Kate pointed at the beer tap when the bartender raised his eyebrows at her. “I wouldn’t have guessed that, Bill. I can hardly imagine that. He seemed like such a calm soul, but I guess you never know what happens behind closed doors.”

  “He meditated a lot in his later years. That’s why he seemed so calm. I guess his first wife would have loved to have seen him meditating years ago. People change, Kate. Times change. Hardgrave certainly changed. But Michelle never saw the change in her father. She only remembered the mean, violent, abusive man that he once was. She only remembered the man that would come home drunk and abuse his wife and child.”

  “And that’s fair. You can’t just swipe a slate clean after it has been severely stained. Some stains are so deep, so ingrained, that no amount of scrubbing can get rid of them. Michelle’s formative years were spent with a violent man; she couldn’t forget that. I understand that. I guess some people can’t recognize redemption in others, no matter how hard they try.”

  Harvey wanted to argue with Kate, but he knew she was probably right. She always was. Instead of arguing, he stared into the glass, tilting it until the large block of ice cube moved from the side.

  The bartender placed a pint of pale ale in front of Kate, and she smiled joyfully. She slurped the head of the beer, like a kid with a frosty from Wendy’s.

  “Remind me not to invite you to the pub again.” Harvey chuckled as she licked her foam mustache away with her tongue.

  “Want to hear a joke, Bill?” Kate said, and then chugged down half of her beer. Just when Harvey thought she was about to take a breath, she kept going.

  He had no doubt that she would have been a legend at any college she went to—if she had decided to go. She would have inspired posters of her mythical beer drinking ability on the walls of a UCLA sorority.

  Once the beer was placed in front of her,
Kate’s demeanor had changed. Now, she didn’t have to pretend to be classy or intelligent. She could just focus on drinking beer.

  Her brothers all drank like it was going out of fashion, and she was the same when she was a teenager. She loved the taste of beer. But when she got older, she learned that classy girls weren’t supposed to drink beer like the boys. Classy girls were supposed to sip cocktails, delicately giggling when a boy looked their way. But when she was at a bar with a beer in her hand, the old Kate came out from hiding. The one that grew up with four older brothers.

  “What does the sign on an out of business brothel say?”

  “Go on.” Harvey began to smile.

  “Beat it. We’re closed.”

  “Ha!”

  “You like that one, huh?” Kate laughed. “Well, what’s the difference between a pregnant woman and a light bulb?”

  “What?”

  “You can unscrew a light bulb.”

  “Kate.” Harvey laughed. “You completely change when you have a beer in your hand.” He grinned, his troubles seemingly forgotten under the spell of Kate’s bright white smile.

  “You know…” She looked at the pint glass, already empty in her hand. “Every loaf of bread is a tragic story of grains that could have been beer, but didn’t make it.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if you were a dirty old man in a past life.”

  “Probably the past three lives. I’m just a dirty old man stuck in a girl’s body.” She slammed the glass back on the bar, holding back a small little burp. She waved to the bartender to bring her another pint, and Harvey grinned, staring at his slowly consumed liquor.

  “So, now that the mood has been lightened, tell me.” She paused for another small burp. “What is the connection between the Mexican drug dealers and Judge Hardgrave?”