Until Proven Guilty

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Until Proven Guilty Page 5

by Rachel Sinclair


  She was quiet again on the other end of the line. She finally spoke. “I’ll come into your office. Just let me know what time I can come in and see you, and I’ll be there.”

  I thought about Harper. I didn’t want her to know what I was doing. I wanted it to be a secret. I didn’t know why I wanted to keep it from her, except that I thought that if she knew about it, she probably would be upset with me.

  Then again, maybe she would be all for it, but I just didn’t want to reopen the old wound. I didn’t want her to know that Michael Reynolds was responsible for yet another life ruined.

  This ruined life ended in a suicide.

  “I’ll come to you. If you don’t mind,” I told her.

  She sounded surprised. “An attorney who makes house calls? I never heard of that.”

  “I don’t usually make house calls, but in this case I’ll make an exception. Just give me your address, and I can come and see you whenever you want me to.”

  She gave me her address, which was in Lawrence, Kansas, about 45 minutes away. I wrote it down.

  “Thank you, Mr. Harrington,” she said to me. “No amount of money can ever bring her back. No amount of money can ever fill the hole in my heart. But if there is a way to make sure that he pays for what he did to her, I’m all for it.”

  As I hung up the phone I realized that there was no way that any amount of money would ever be adequate to bring this guy to justice. But that didn’t really matter. If I could possibly make his life just a bit more difficult, then I had done my job.

  Chapter 6

  Before I went to see Mrs. Blackwood, Carrie’s mom, I decided to go ahead and do some research on Tracy Dunham. As Harper had indicated, he was a part of a wealthy family. The Dunhams were old money. Tracy Dunham’s great-great grandfather was one of the early investors in the railroad, and he made his fortune there. The Dunham family had diversified into shipping and bootlegging, before branching out even further into the pharmaceutical industry. All the Dunhams in Tracy’s father’s generation were billionaires, and Tracy himself was an heir to a vast fortune of a diversified portfolio that included everything from shipping and lumber to green technology.

  Apparently, Tracy had not yet come into his inheritance, for reasons unknown. At least, that was what I understood from what I found out on the Internet about him.

  I wondered about that. Why was it that Tracy Dunham was not able to come into his inheritance just yet? That was a strange thing, because from what I understood, all the kids in his generation in the Dunham family had already come into their inheritance. At least, that was what I could see from doing a quick research online with court records, and basic news articles about the family.

  I wrote that down on a piece of paper. I made a note to myself that I needed to try to figure out exactly why it was that Tracy was denied his inheritance, or at least, that the inheritance had not yet come to him. Not that he was never going to get the inheritance, but there was something that was holding it up and he died without laying claim to it.

  I also did a little quick background check on his credentials to be a pain management doctor. I did some quick research, and I was able to ascertain that he graduated from the University of Missouri with a degree in science, and then went to medical school at UMKC, which was the University of Missouri branch that was located here in Kansas City. From there, it was an internship at the Kansas University hospital that was also located in Kansas City, in the midtown area. He had been in practice for the past 10 years, treating people who were suffering from chronic pain. His website indicated that he specialized in individuals who had recurring migraines and neurological disorders, but that he had a proficiency in treating all kinds of pain.

  He emphasized on his website that he treated patients with alternatives to opioids. Apparently, according to his website, he prescribed a method of pain management that combined elements of acupuncture, acupressure, and a technique that he invented that had a patent pending.

  I read the reviews of the people who had seen him at his office, and they were truly glowing. I knew that a lot of times those reviews could be manipulated, so I had to bear that in mind. But it seemed like patient after patient stated that they had gone to him as a last resort. They were prescribed opiates by other doctors, and they would become addicted, and have to get off of them, but they would still have their pain. So they would go to see Dr. Dunham, and they would have relief from their pain, without any drugs. According to the reviews I read online, he had changed more than one person’s life for the better. Completely.

  Review after review talked about how effective he was. Most of the people indicated that the reason why he was so effective was because they were able to get relief from their pain symptoms without drugs. There was more than one person who said that if Dr. Dunham’s pain management method could become something that would be the standard of care for all doctors, the opioid crisis would be solved, simply because people would not have to rely on addicting drugs to get pain relief.

  While I thought that was slightly hyperbolic – one doctor in Kansas City, Missouri solving the opioid crisis – I did come to know after reading these reviews that this doctor was very much loved. His patients swore by him. It seemed that he had an almost cult-like following.

  I then decided to go ahead and make it a point with the prosecutor to ask them why it was that they were going at my mother in such a way. I had a feeling that there was something behind the prosecutor’s decision to charge it in the matter that it was charged. I also kind of wondered about whether or not it was possible that my mother’s drug test result was somehow altered. My mother swore up and down that she had not taken heroin at the time that this guy died. Yet her blood tests showed that she clearly had opioids in her system. I knew enough not to believe my mother when she was giving me a story, because she was not known to be the most honest person in the entire world.

  Yet, at the same time, there was a little voice inside me that said that she wasn’t lying about this. She really wasn’t taking opioids at the time that this guy died. And if this was the case, then what was the deal with the UA saying that she was high?

  But before I went to the prosecutor, I was going to have to go and see Mrs. Blackwood. I hated that I was going to have to see her, just because I didn’t do so well with people who are in mourning, as this woman clearly was.

  I decided to go ahead and call Nate, knowing that he was probably home from school. He could probably use some time out of the house, so I decided to see if he wanted to go along with me to this woman’s house. Well, not necessarily to her house, but I knew her neighborhood and there was a basketball court on the way to where she lived, and there were usually people playing there. I knew that Nate was good at basketball, and that he could probably use the exercise and the social camaraderie. I figured that some fresh air would do him some good, and I really wanted to take him out to dinner afterwards, just him and me.

  I felt guilty about taking on yet another case during his crisis period. It was bad enough that I had to take my mother’s case, but now I apparently was going to be taking the case of Carrie Blackwood. Not that I really wanted to do that, but at the same time, I knew that it would somehow help Harper if I did.

  I decided to called Nate. “Buddy, I’m coming to get you. I’m going to go and see somebody in Lawrence, and I thought that you and I can talk on the way to her house. There’s a basketball court by where she lives, I’ve been by there several times, in that area, and I figured that you could play some games while I’m talking to her.” I was really interested in the talk on the way to Lawrence, which was where the University of Kansas was, and was about a 45-minute drive from my house. Assuming traffic. I had to be realistic about the fact that sometimes I was just going to have to just fit in time when I could, and hoped and prayed that it would be enough.

  “What about Amelia?” he asked me.

  “Gretchen can go ahead and watch her. I really just need a little bit of quality t
ime with you, because I want you to keep on talking to me. I want you and I to keep having conversations. And I know that things are stressful, and difficult, because your grandmother is the one who is in trouble. And I wish that I could rely upon someone to go ahead and take her case, and I could just spend time with you, but I don’t trust anybody. It’s too important to trust another person to take her case. There are just some real oddities that are cropping up that I feel like I had to get to the bottom of in this case. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Truth be told, if Harper was not having some kind of a mental breakdown, I probably would’ve went ahead and asked her to take the case. Harper was somebody I could trust. She was somebody that I knew would do a really good job with my mom’s case. But, at the moment, she was dealing with her own emotional problems, and I just knew that there was just no way that I would be able to rely upon her to do my mom’s case justice.

  “Okay, dad. I’ve got nothing going on at the moment. I got a little bit of homework, but I could just get that done later. I’d like to go ahead and go with you.” And he was quiet for several minutes. “I’d like that dad. I’d like to keep talking to you, about what’s going on with me.”

  I felt a sense of relief as I put on my coat, and started to head out the door.

  As I was coming out, Harper was coming in. She was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, and she was walking extremely slowly. She had a cup of coffee in her hand, and she was dressed in a heavy coat, scarf, hat, and gloves. It was a somewhat odd get up, considering the fact that it was 50° outside. Chilly, but not that cold. Not cold enough for all that she was wearing.

  “Harper,” I said to her. “How are you feeling?”

  She shook her head, and said nothing. I could see that the hand that was holding the coffee cup was shaking. She bowed her head, and walked right past me.

  I followed her into her office. I looked at the clock, seeing it was 3:30, and this was the first time she had made an appearance at her own office. This was unusual – she was never in the office past 8 o’clock in the morning.

  “Harper,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

  She threw her bag down on her desk, and took off her hat, gloves, and coat. She did not, however, take off her dark sunglasses. “How does it look like I feel?” She shook her head. “I feel like crap. Mentally, physically, I feel like crap. I feel like every single cell in my body is filled with alcohol, and my head is pounding like you would not believe. I’m nauseated, I’m tired, yet I’m here. I was supposed to be in small-claims court this morning. Somehow, I overslept, and I missed it. Now my client is pissed-off, to say the least, because I was supposed to be there and because I wasn’t, the guy got a default judgment against him. Which means that I’m going to have to do an appeal for him for free, to say the very least.”

  “Harper, you need to tell me when you need me to cover for you.”

  She took a deep breath. “I suppose you didn’t hear the part where I said I overslept. In other words, I didn’t know at the time that I needed for you to cover for me. If I would’ve known that, I would’ve asked you to cover for me. As it is, I have to work on this motion to set aside the judgment, and hope that I can get it vacated. Not that that’s necessarily going to be easy to do.”

  I looked at my watch, knowing that there was only a short period of time that I could go and get Nate, and see my new client by 5 o’clock, which was the time that we set up for the meeting. “I’d like to still talk to you more, but I have to go see my new client.”

  “You’re going to see a client? A new client? Since when do you make house calls for someone like that?”

  She was right about that. While I didn’t mind seeing existing clients at their house, I didn’t usually like to go chasing after clients and going to their home. Especially not a client who lived out in Lawrence, Kansas. That was a bit of a drive, and I really should’ve had her come to see me. But I didn’t know what to say to Harper as to why it was that I wanted Mrs. Blackwood to not come to the office.

  “I made an exception here. Besides, I’m going to have Nate come with me. He and I need some guy talk, so I figured that the drive to Lawrence and back would be a good time for some one on one. I also thought that I would take him out to dinner in Lawrence. I guess it’s just a good excuse for me to bond with him.”

  Harper nodded her head. “You better be careful. He’s at an age where things could go either way. You could either reach him, and things will be okay, or you may not be able to reach him, and things might be devastating. I know, I went through something with Abby last year. Don’t forget, she was trying drugs herself. Not that Nate is going to experiment with drugs, but you certainly don’t want to risk that. So stay on top of it. That’s the only thing I can say.”

  I bit my tongue. I didn’t want to tell Harper that she needed to tend to her own garden, before trying to give me advice. Yet, I knew that her advice was sound, and it was going to be nothing but mean for me to throw in her face that she was having her own problems with addiction at the moment.

  “Thanks for the advice, Harper.” I looked at my watch again. “I’ll see you later.”

  At that, I went to my car.

  Chapter 7

  I went home and got Nate, and the two of us got in the car and drove towards Lawrence. Nate looked better than he did the previous day. He was smiling, and he looked as if he was happy that he was going with me.

  “Thanks, dad.” He looked kind of shy. His hands were clasped together on his lap, and his head was bowed. “I really wanted to talk to you today. I thought about it all day. I have talked to a teacher, a guy this time. I don’t trust the women teachers in my school anymore.”

  I felt sad that that was the case. I knew some of Nate’s teachers, the female teachers, and they would be good confidants for him. Yet I knew that after the incident with Mrs. Bowen, there was just no way that he was going to ever trust a female teacher again. At least not for a long, long time.

  I drove along, and I put my hand on Nate’s shoulder. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I just wanted to talk to you about how things were going. I feel like talking.” Then he looked at his hands again. “You know how the counselor, Dr. Jordan, tells us that we need to tell each other things that are bothering us? You know how she says that to us?”

  “Of course I remember that. That’s probably been the most important thing.”

  He nodded his head. “There are some kids at school, they’re telling me that they can see that I’m sad, and that they have a way of making me feel better. They’re trying to get me to take drugs. Trying to sell me drugs, dad. I’ve been telling them no, but it’s been hard. They keep telling me that if I take these drugs that I’m not going to feel pain anymore. I’m not going to be feeling like I am.” He shook his head. “I’ll do anything dad, anything to stop this pain.”

  I drew a breath. Nate was on the verge of taking drugs, and I didn’t really know what to do about that. I certainly could get the names of the boys who had been harassing him at school, trying to sell him drugs. I could turn them into the cops, tell the principal about what’s going on, any number of things. But that would not be getting to the root of the problem. The root of the problem was that Nate wanted to take drugs, because he was in so much mental pain. So much emotional turmoil.

  “Thank you for telling me about this. I think that there is a better way, for you. Dr. Jordan has advised me that she wants you to be on an antidepressant. What that is is a kind of prescription drug that will hopefully make you feel better. Dr. Jordan thinks that you might have a problem with the chemicals in your brain.” I didn’t really think that Nate was going to understand what I was saying. It was difficult for most people to understand about norepinephrine and serotonin and the other chemicals that are supposed to be in balance in your brain, but in certain people’s brains, are not.

  Nate just nodded his head. “You know best, dad. Does a doctor think th
at if I take these drugs that I won’t be so sad all the time?”

  “That’s the goal, buddy.” I was still so apprehensive, however, because I knew that one of the side effects of this drug was suicidal thoughts, and that a kid as young as Nate was at risk of committing suicide if he took this drug. Yet, from what he was telling me, he needed something. We were already going to counseling, twice a week, and he was still talking about how he wanted to take drugs because he was still in so much pain. The antidepressants would be a last resort, but I felt that I needed to at least try it.

  Nate decided to change the subject. “We’re going to go see a woman, or you are. She’s got to be somebody that you’re going to be taking on? What did she do?”

  “She didn’t do anything wrong. Her daughter was hurting just like you are. Then something happened, and she died. I’m going to try to file a lawsuit against the person who hurt her.”

  Nate didn’t say anything, but just stared at his hands. “Are you going to file a lawsuit against Mrs. Bowen?” He said that in a tiny voice, so tiny that I could barely hear it.

  “Is that something that you would like for me to do?”

  He shrugged. “No. She’s going to jail. She’s sad, dad, just like I am. I feel sorry for her. She doesn’t have a good life. She cries a lot. I don’t want her to be more sad than she already is.”

  I was struck by how compassionate he was. This was a woman who hurt him very badly, and he was concerned about how depressed she was. ”Okay, Nate.”

  I felt that justice was done with Mrs. Bowen, because Nate was right – she was going to prison, for a long time. Filing a lawsuit against her would be something that might make Nate feel better, but, at the same time, I didn’t think there was much potential for it. She didn’t have a lot of extra money or property, so it would have been a Pyrrhic victory if I would’ve filed a lawsuit against her and won.

 

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