Junkyard Dogma (The Elven Prophecy Book 4)

by Theophilus Monroe

  “And since I’m the only one with a license, even if it’s a fake one, I guess that makes me the scout,” Layla said, rolling her eyes.

  I shrugged. “I mean, it’s just an idea.”

  “Looks like you get to fly with Caspar again, after all, Aerin,” Layla said, crossing her arms over her chest and sinking into her seat.

  I tried to lock my eyes onto Layla’s through the rearview mirror, but she wouldn’t look back at me. Seemed pretty damn childish. If she was serious about pulling this off, you’d think she’d set aside petty jealousies for the sake of the greater good. It wasn’t like Layla had any reason to envy Aerin. I wasn’t in love with Aerin. At the end of the day, this whole polygamous marriage thing was her idea. Whether we liked it or not, we needed each other.

  Our lives were bound together.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Once we arrived back at the ranch, Aerin took off to see how the drow were settling in. Layla didn't waste any time stomping into the farmhouse. The second I shifted the car into park, she was off, moving with purpose, making it clear to me that following her wasn't a good idea.

  I’ve never been good with female psychology. To me, her storming off meant she wanted to be left alone. But if she wanted me to come after her, and I didn’t, I’d probably hear about it later. It was one of those “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” situations. I could go after her and risk getting my head bitten off, or I could give her space and hear about how I was insensitive and not there for her when she needed someone to listen.

  I decided to err on the side of being too attentive. At least, in that circumstance, while I might end up headless, at least she wouldn’t be able to accuse me of being heartless.

  I nodded at Jag as I walked past. He was hunched over the opened hood of the truck he was working on.

  “Hey, Casp!” Jag said. “Making good progress!”

  “You almost have it running?” I asked.

  “I think so,” Jag said. “Give me to the end of the day, and we’ll have ourselves a working pickup truck!”

  “Awesome, Jag,” I said. “Really incredible.”

  Jag’s grin split his face from ear to ear. He was clearly proud of what he’d accomplished. It was a good thing because if by some miracle of miracles I managed to pull off an acquittal for murder, we’d still need a way to transport Brag’mok to the Furies.

  “Thanks, Casp! Just looking to help out any way I can.”

  I smiled and nodded. I was just about to turn to follow Layla inside when an idea occurred to me.

  “Hey, Jag,” I said.

  “Yeah, Casp?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to know a good defense attorney, would you?”

  “I’ve got a guy who helped me get out of a few speeding tickets,” Jag said.

  I shook my head. “Not a traffic court lawyer. I mean, a serious defense attorney. Someone who could help defend someone who was accused of homicide.”

  Jag reached over and grabbed a rag that he’d draped over the truck’s bumper and wiped off his hands. “I knew what you meant. I was just giving you shit. I actually expected you might need one, and I hope you don’t mind; I took a few liberties.”

  Jag reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card, and handed it to me.

  I grabbed it. It was moist to the touch, soaked by Jag’s sweat.

  “Dude,” I said.

  “Sorry,” Jag said. “It’s just butt sweat.”

  I almost threw up a little in my mouth. I pinched the card, extending my hand as far as I could from my body while I examined it. “Collin Law?” I asked. “You seriously found a lawyer whose last name is Law?”

  Jag shrugged. “Might be a pen name.”

  “I don’t think lawyers use pen names. At least, if they do, they don’t call them that.”

  “I met a Chiropractor once whose last name was Bone. I remember seeing on the internet a gyno whose last name was Beaver.”

  “A proctologist whose last name is Butts?” I asked.

  Jag shrugged. “I wouldn’t doubt that there is one, somewhere. The funniest part is that the gyno’s first name was Harold.”

  “Harry Beaver?” I asked. “You have to be making this up.”

  “I’m totally not,” Jag said. “Google it!”

  “Know anything about this lawyer?” I asked. “Like, is he any good?”

  Jag smiled wide. “Dude, they say this guy could get anyone off.”

  I snorted. “You might want to rephrase that.”

  Jag cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind.” I shook my head. You’d think, being a former minister, I wouldn’t have such a juvenile sense of humor. But if there’s an off-color way to interpret something, chances are I’m giggling about it secretly inside of my head.

  “You should check out this guy’s Yelp reviews. People love him and hate him. Those who hired him think he’s the best thing since sliced bread. All of them were probably guilty. But not when Collin Law had their backs. Then, of course, the families of their victims don’t care for him too much. Say he clings to legal loopholes and technicalities and prioritizes winning his cases over real justice.”

  “And you think that’s what I want?” I asked.

  Jag shook his head. “I think it’s what you need. The fate of the world might rest on this, Casp. We can’t take any chances with a lawyer who has principles.”

  “This guy expensive?” I asked.

  “I’m sure he is,” Jag said. “But won’t your sugar momma elf take care of it?”

  “Aerin?” I asked. “I thought I was the only one who thought of her in those terms.”

  Jag laughed. “Everyone knows it’s Momma who brings home the bacon in your house. You should have seen how she was throwing money around at the store last night. I hadn’t seen anyone make it rain like that since the last time I went to the strip club.”

  An image of Home Depot employees twirling their orange aprons over their heads while Aerin tossed dollar bills at them crossed my mind. I quickly refocused my thoughts. “I’ll give her the card. Thanks for looking into this, Jag.”

  “Always have your back, buddy,” Jag said.

  I pocketed the lawyer’s sweat-moistened business card and went inside. Layla was pumping up our air mattress again while scratching Agnus behind the ears.

  “Want to talk?” I asked.

  “What?” Layla asked, raising her voice to talk over the sound of the electric air pump.

  “Want to talk?” I asked again, almost shouting my question.

  Layla nodded and turned off the pump. She sat on the edge of the mostly inflated mattress.

  I sat next to her. “I’m sorry, Layla. If I could have talked to you about this before I agreed to it with the Furies, I would have.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Layla said. “I’m not usually the jealous type. It’s just to see Aerin being so nauseatingly supportive.”

  “You realize the whole reason she isn’t as upset about this as you are is that she isn’t in love with me like you are?”

  Layla shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

  “I have a nice butt. What can I say?” I asked, smirking.

  Layla backhanded me on the shoulder. “You do. But I think it’s more than that.”

  “It might be,” I said. “But no matter what she’s feeling, she hasn’t overstepped. She hasn’t even so much as tried to kiss me. Not since the wedding, anyway.”

  Layla shook her head. “I’m glad I didn’t see that.”

  “It was all for show,” I said. I wasn’t lying, exactly. When Aerin kissed me at our wedding, we both felt the attraction that the rings had sparked within us. There was passion in that kiss, but it was carnal passion. Not the same kind of passion that came from love, and nothing like I felt when Layla and I kissed.

  “I know I’m being petty,” Layla said. “We’ve got bigger issues. I don’t blame you for agreeing to
what you did with the Furies. I know you didn’t have a choice.”

  I nodded. “Still, if I could have talked to you about it first, I would have. I’m sorry if I was defensive about my choice. I wasn’t sensitive to how you were feeling.”

  Layla put her hand on my back and rested her head on my shoulder. “We’ll get through this, Caspar. I do believe in you. More than she does, I’d wager. She trusts the prophecy, but I don’t know what I think about that damned prophecy anymore. Every turn we take, it seems we find out that the prophecy isn’t as straightforward as I was taught to believe.”

  I reached into my pocket and retrieved the lawyer’s business card. It was pressed against the card the President had given me. The one with the number I was supposed to call when I’d made up my mind about whether I was going to support his alliance or turn myself in for Fred’s murder. It came out, stuck to the card Jag had given me.

  “We have two numbers to call,” I said. “Jag found a lawyer for us. I’ll have to talk to Aerin about paying for it. We’ll need his help. Then, we’ll have to call the President. But I think before we do that, we need to go on our healing spree. It’ll be interesting to hear how he responds after that.”

  “Should probably hire the lawyer first,” Layla said. “Since we’re short on time, he’ll probably need time to prepare his case.”

  I nodded. “Who knows how in the world he’ll react to it. Elves, magic, all that stuff. Not exactly the sort of case he’s probably accustomed to taking.”

  Layla stood up and extended her hand. I grabbed it and stood up. Not like I needed her help to stand. I was half inclined to grab her hand and pull her back down onto the bed with me, but the clock was already ticking.

  As I stood up, Agnus nuzzled my shin. I reached down again and petted him from head to tail.

  Agnus meowed. “I don’t want you to go to jail.”

  I looked at Layla. She looked back at me, pressing her lips together. It was the first time, I think since I started talking to Agnus, that I detected any real sense of fear or vulnerability in his voice.

  “I know, buddy,” I said. “I don’t want to go, either. But Layla is here. She’ll take care of you until I get back.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The lawyer said he didn’t have any room on his schedule for us until Aerin took the phone and started talking money. Miraculously, he found an hour later in the afternoon when he could see us. Funny how that works.

  We didn’t have much time. Our trip to see Elrand and the incident with the Furies had taken up most of the morning. So much had happened that it felt like it should have been evening already, but it was barely noon. The lawyer said he could see us around one-thirty. Technically, it was only a forty-five-minute drive, but traffic in St. Louis is notoriously unpredictable. Even in the middle of the day, there was a good chance that once we got into the city, we’d face at least a brief traffic jam at some point.

  I didn’t want to risk it, so we left straight away. This time, Layla got to ride shotgun.

  We arrived thirty minutes early.

  “Caspar Cruciger,” I said, introducing myself to the lawyer’s secretary. “Here to see Mister Law.”

  “Have a seat,” the secretary said. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

  No sooner did she pick up the phone and tell him I’d arrived than a tall, thirty-something blond-haired man appeared. He was wearing a white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up and a paisley-patterned tie loose around his neck.

  “Mister Cruciger,” the lawyer said. “Collin Law.”

  I nodded. “Thanks for seeing us on short notice.”

  Collin shrugged. “What can I say? Money talks.”

  I snorted. “Well, at least you’re honest about that.”

  “No one goes into law because it’s such a fascinating subject,” Collin said. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. We’re all in it for the cash.”

  I nodded. I glanced at Layla, who shrugged. “This is Layla and Aerin. Technically they’re my wives.”

  “Wives?” Collin asked. “You realize you can’t have more than one, legally speaking.”

  “Well, we never filled out the legal paperwork. Just had the ceremony.”

  “Then technically, legally speaking, neither of these women are married to you.”

  I nodded. “I guess that’s right.”

  “If we’re going to talk candidly,” the lawyer said, “I have a few forms to sign. Just ensures that what we talk about will remain confidential. You know the deal.”

  “Not really,” I said. “But if you can defend me, I’ll sign whatever. There’s nothing you could say to me that you can’t say in front of Layla and Aerin.”

  We followed Collin into a small room. There was one rectangular table in the room. The chairs arranged around the table were all padded with leather.

  We took our seats and signed a bunch of forms. Stuff that, more or less, allowed us to talk. And of course, Aerin paid him for his hour.

  “So, murder, huh?” Collin asked.

  “Potentially,” I said. “I need to turn myself in.”

  Collin shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I have to,” I said. “I need to clear my name, and I need to have it all resolved within a month.”

  Collin dropped his pen and stared at me. “You really haven’t had any experience with the legal system before, have you?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. But I realize things don’t usually move that quickly. I think this situation might be different, though. The President is involved.”

  Collin stared at me blankly. “Why would the President be involved in a murder case?”

  “He gave me a choice. He wants me to either help support an alliance he’s forged with some bad people who really want to take over the world. Or, he said, he has witnesses who could testify that I murdered someone.”

  Collin snorted. “Sounds like this is a political matter, not a legal one. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Except for the fact that I don’t intend to do what he wants,” I said.

  “Because these people he wants you to support want to take over the world… Yeah, you told me that.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you believe me,” I said.

  Collin shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if I believe you. I’ll pretend to believe anything you’re going to pay me to believe. What’s important is that whatever judge hears your case, and more, a jury, if you don’t take a plea, will believe you.”

  “Who is the victim?” Collin asked.

  “Fred,” I said.

  “Just Fred?” Collin raised an eyebrow.

  “Fred Rogers,” Layla piped up.

  I looked at Layla. “His last name is seriously Rogers? I’m being accused of killing Mister Rogers?”

  “Not the same one, I presume,” Collin said. “That Mister Rogers died several years ago.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. The name is just a coincidence.”

  “So tell me the whole story. What happened, and what dirt do they have on you? It’s important you tell me everything. If there’s anything I don’t know and the prosecution brings it up, I won’t be prepared. I need all the facts.”

  I explained everything, from start to finish. I told him about the elves. Layla and Aerin even showed him their ears to prove the point. I told him about what happened at Pruitt-Igoe, and how Brightborn had given me no choice.

  Collin was taking notes, but from the way he was smirking as he wrote, I was pretty sure he thought I was talking out of my ass.

  “Now,” Collin said. “Why don’t you tell me what really happened? Because what you just said seriously sounds like you’ve taken Mister Rogers’ trolley to a land of make-believe.”

  “I’m telling you the truth,” I said. “All this shit, I wouldn't have believed it myself a few months ago. But I swear, it’s true.”

  “So, you’re telling me that you used magic to kill this guy, right?”

  I nodded. “Exactly. But I
only did it because otherwise, Layla would have died.”

  “Right,” Collin said. “Because she was infected with… What did you call it? Celestial magic, right?”

  “We can prove it to you,” Layla said. “If you don’t believe us.”

  Collin grunted. “You’re going to prove to me that magic is real?”

  Layla nodded. “Let me see your pen.”

  “Layla, don’t do anything that the fairies will be able to track.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Caspar,” Layla said. “They can’t sense this kind of magic.”

  Collin clicked his pen, retracting the ballpoint, and slid it across the table to Layla.

  Layla picked up the pen and, holding it in front of her, channeled purple celestial magic into it.

  The whole pen glowed.

  “Now,” Layla said. “If I were to stab someone with this, they’d be infected the same way I was.”

  “An interesting trick,” Collin said. “Do you have anything better than that?”

  Layla forced more magic into the pen and it exploded, the ink splattering all over the table. “That enough for you to believe?”

  Collin stared at the ink splatter, wide-eyed. “That’s…interesting.”

  “Have a phone?” Aerin asked.

  “Of course I do,” Collin said.

  “If you want to see what Caspar can do, it’s all on video. Just Google his name. It’s gone viral. Shouldn’t be hard to find.”

  “All right,” Collin said, tapping at his phone. Someone had apparently taken the video of my trials and put it on a second-rate news site. As Collin watched the video, his jaw was practically on the table. “This is incredible,” Collin said. “I’ll watch the rest later. But say I believe you, how do you expect me to present this stuff to the court?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “You’re the expert. I just need to make sure I get a full acquittal.”

  “I’m going to outline the legal situation,” Collin said. “This could be tackled in a couple different ways. Either way, we have an angle we could use. Under normal circumstances, I’d strongly prefer one option to the other. But given your apparent urgency and the fact that the President is involved, it changes this dynamic significantly.”