Right to an Attorney: A Psychological Thriller

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Right to an Attorney: A Psychological Thriller Page 4

by Sims, R.


  “We wouldn’t be having this sneaking-around problem if you would have told your brother that you were the first guy I ever had sex with. I guess fifteen years ago you were too ashamed to let him know that you had at least a side interest in white girls.”

  He sighed, stepped around her, and threw himself in the driver’s seat of her car. “When you first realized that you were seeing the brother of your first…sex partner, why didn’t you end it there?”

  “I considered it. But I wanted you so badly, even though I could sense that you didn’t want to publicly be with me, and even though I knew I could never have you, I decided that being with your brother was the next best thing. I thought that would at least keep me around you more often. But then you had to go off to prison for a goddamn decade.”

  “Caroline, I need to be going. I have an appointment at the dentist’s office. I’ll bring your car back by noon, I guess.” He adjusted the driver’s seat, pulled his left leg inside the car, adjusted the mirrors, and closed the door without saying a word to her.

  Caroline stood there watching as her car was slowly backed out of the driveway. When he looked her way again, she said, “Wait,” then dropped her handbag and ran up to the driver’s window.

  Dexter powered the window down. “What now, Caroline? I wanted to leave before this turned into an argument.”

  “I don’t want to fight. I want you to answer one question for me, just one, then you can go.”

  He looked up at her, his eyes telling her to ask the damn question already.

  She said, “The one thing you want more than anything else in this world is to be a father. That’s what you’ve told me since being released.”

  “Okay. So what?”

  “Well, I want to be a mother. I want to stop taking contraceptives and have your first child. Can I?”

  He looked straight ahead and smirked. He shifted to first gear. “Bye Caroline.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Around 3:15 am, Agent Laura Frey picked up Special Agent Phillip Walters from the airport in Harrisburg. She was driving a bureau-issued Dodge Magnum and was casually dressed in slacks, lady loafers, and a nothing-fancy blouse. She was a 28-year-old white woman who wanted to believe that her pretty face was not at all important.

  Fresh out of college, the auburn-haired woman was well-learned in business and finance and criminal law. This being only her second case, Laura was considered an FBI rookie. Lucky for her, Phillip preferred working with rookies because they usually asked a lot of questions, which kept him refreshing his memory.

  Phillip had already guessed her to be about five foot eight and 130 pounds. She looked like a runner, but he doubted it. Maybe he just wanted her to be a runner.

  When Laura drove off from the airport she said, “You’ll meet the field office supervisor Monday morning, but today you can get some rest and get settled into your hotel suite. I’ll leave you with some files to look at; that should give you something to do on Sunday, unless you’d rather study on a less religious day.”

  He smiled. “Sunday’s fine. I may even take a look at the files tonight. There are other agents assigned to this case, working the money trail, recovery, computer crimes, and possible international conspiracies with foreign governments. I don’t want to lose time, because our investigation will certainly help theirs and vice versa.”

  She nodded. “I understand. I agree.”

  “Anything interesting in the files?”

  “Not until this morning. One of our surveillance teams got video and audio of Dexter Parker messing around with his brother’s wife.” She glanced at Phillip as she slowed the vehicle for a stop sign. Her response did not move him, and now she felt silly for mentioning the Parker affair without having decided its relevance.

  He said, “There’s $3.3 billion missing, and the brains behind it all may not be the man we have jailed in California. Let us pretend, from now on, that all of our suspects are too intelligent to make this easy for us.”

  ***

  Shortly before one in the afternoon, Dexter arrived at a 4-bedroom brick home in Fillmore, California. He stepped out of his rented Aston Martin and surveyed the quiet, elegant neighborhood. Every lawn was well-manicured. Green-rich grass, neat shrubs, several trees, and flowers that gave the community a soft feel.

  He walked by a Range Rover in the driveway and wondered what was behind the garage door. Before he could reach the steps, the front door was opened.

  A black man wearing glasses and dressed in formal attire said, “How can I help you?”

  “Good afternoon. My name is Dexter Parker.” He stopped at the first doorstep. “Is Mrs. Dana Searing in?”

  The man of the house made a quick assessment of the visitor and automatically didn’t like him. “What’s your business with her? Is she expecting you?”

  Dexter used one hand to caress his necktie. “I’m a client of hers, but I doubt she’s expecting me.”

  “I’m her husband and this is our home, not her law office.” He feigned a smile. “And if I’m not mistaken, I think she’s off on Saturdays.”

  Dexter was getting nowhere with the testy husband. All he needed was for Dana to come to the door. He returned the fake smile and said, “It is my understanding that she works for me now, and I’d like for her to decide whether she still wants to take Saturdays off.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Dana’s husband stepped out onto the small brick porch. “Who the hell are you to come to my house and talk like you’re running something other than your mouth? Dana’s not here. Now get the hell off my property — while you still can.”

  Dexter heard someone inside the house approaching. “Thank you for the warning, sir.” He took two steps back then saw a young black woman appear at the door. She was probably twenty, though she looked only seventeen to him. The young woman said, “My mom should be here soon, mister. You can wait if you want.”

  Dana’s husband, the girl’s stepfather, shot an evil look at her. “Danielle, you’ve gone too far now. This is not your business.”

  Dexter kept walking backward as he smiled at her. “Thanks, Danielle. I’ll wait in my car, or maybe I’ll return in fifteen to twenty minutes. Could you ask her to meet me outside when…”

  “Here she comes now. That’s her car.”

  Dexter looked down the street and saw an Audi heading his way. “I owe you, big time, Danielle.”

  Dana’s husband stood there steaming, turning from Danielle only to watch the visitor with contempt.

  Dexter walked to the edge of the driveway and stopped the Audi by throwing one hand up. He walked around to the driver’s window and smiled at her. “Mrs. Searing, I need about an hour of your time, and I don’t think your husband will want that to take place here. Your daughter was very nice, though.”

  Dana looked at the stranger as if he were crazy. “Who are you, and what is this about?”

  “I’m Dexter Parker, a client of yours.”

  Her eyeballs seemed to swell. Not because Gerald Parker had retained her to represent Dexter before the Herbyte scandal had even taken place. Not because this guy was likely to solve all her financial problems. And not because this guy was handsome, arrogant, and apparently intelligent. She was wide-eyed because she’d been caught wearing blue jeans, sneakers, and

  a T-shirt that had The Defense Never Rests! printed across the front. She was wide-eyed because her C cup breasts were emphasizing the message. She didn’t like the first impression she believed she’d given the wealthy client.

  “The Feds will likely indict me in a matter of days. It’s urgent that I speak with you.”

  “Uh…sure.”

  He squatted at the driver’s door as if he were about to converse with a longtime friend, knowing this would piss off her husband. “Can I follow you to a restaurant of your choosing, where we can discuss some important matters? If your answer is yes, I’d like for you to bring Danielle along because I owe her.”

  She looked over at her husband on t
he porch and her daughter in the doorway. “You’re not leaving me much room to turn you down, except that it’s after one and we’ve already eaten lunch.”

  “In that case, maybe I can follow you to the nearest McDonald’s. You and Danielle can watch me eat while I talk with a mouthful.”

  She smiled. “Sounds like mountains of fun. McDonald’s may not be such a good place to discuss your situation.”

  He looked over at her house and saw that her husband was going back inside now. Danielle was still in the doorway. “Where do you suggest we talk?”

  “Right here. My place.”

  Dexter shook his head, disagreeing. “Your husband doesn’t like me at all, for some strange reason.”

  “Harold is mad at the world. He doesn’t like anyone. If it were up to him, male clients would be off limits.”

  “I see,” he said.

  “We’re in the development stages of a divorce.” She shook her head and covered her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking…I just…”

  Dexter rose from his squatting position. “Don’t apologize. Eventually, I would like to hear all of your problems and help you work them out. For now, though, I need to go over some things with you before I’m charged and arrested.”

  “If you can come back in about thirty minutes, we can talk here. My husband has to catch a two o’clock flight to New York.”

  He looked at his Cosierre wristwatch. “I’ll return in an hour. I’d like to pick up a gift for your daughter while I’m gone. What do you think she wants?”

  “I’m constantly reminded of how a new BMW coupe would help her keep those college grades up.” She laughed. “No, don’t get her anything. She’s good. Thank you.”

  “Is she your only child?”

  “Yes.”

  Dexter already knew that. He knew more about Dana than she would approve right now. He looked at the young woman who was still watching them from the front door. He smiled and waved at her. Then, he said to Dana, “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Janet Ingram was vacuuming the hallway of her home when she heard the doorbell. Her mixed housecat, a big friendly pet named Keshi, was on the arm of the living room sofa and had been watching her clean.

  She walked past Keshi and said to her, “Do I have to slip you inside a sock to keep you from leaving hair all over the place?” She stopped at the door and looked through the peephole. And frowned.

  Janet opened the door and stood with one hand on her hip, the other on the doorknob. “What do you want, Louis?” It was her boyfriend — ex-boyfriend — a tall, slim, light-complexioned black man. He was the owner and sometimes operator of Ink Clone, a small but low-cost copier shop that was highly preferred over FedEx in Harrisburg.

  “I want to apologize in person and explain everything.” He couldn’t even trade stares with her. “I know this sounds like a cliché, but it wasn’t what you thought.”

  “I caught you at the movies with your ex-wife and you’re telling me you know what I was thinking? Listen, it was nice knowing you, Louis, but I’ve had enough of your lies and apologies. Good-bye.” She stepped back to close the door.

  “Wait, Janet,” he pleaded. “Karen was diagnosed with cancer, and she just wanted somebody to talk to. We’re divorced but we’re still friends, you know.”

  Janet almost laughed. “Your lies are becoming more progressive; you’ve stooped to throwing in trauma because you desperately need to sound convincing to someone who knows when you’re lying.”

  She hadn’t shut the door in his face yet. Maybe he had her. “Just give me a few minutes to explain it all.”

  Janet nodded. “Okay. That sounds fair. But here’s the deal: You leave now, go pick up Karen, and bring her to my place so that we can hear your story about her cancer.”

  She slammed the door in his face then locked it.

  ***

  “…and if I’m indicted while I’m out of the country, you’ll be one of three people in the U.S. who can reach me,” Dexter said. He was sitting across from Dana on a cream-colored sofa in her front room. “My phone service is under a new carrier and has a new number as of yesterday. My brother doesn’t even know the number. Whenever that phone rings, I’ll know it’s urgent. Any questions about that, the case, or anything else?”

  She considered a question while sitting on her love seat. She was now dressed as if she had a court appointment. She heard her daughter approaching.

  “Excuse me,” Danielle said.

  “Yes?” Dana looked up at her daughter.

  “Mom, I need to borrow the car tonight. I’ll be home before ten.”

  “Out of the question, and you know it.”

  Dexter looked at Dana. “If you can remember what it felt like to be her age, you’ll let her get the car.”

  Dana smirked. “I can remember what it felt like when she totaled the car I had just finished making payments on last year.”

  Dexter winced as his eyes shifted toward Danielle. “Were you hurt?”

  “No, sir, and it wasn’t really my fault,” Danielle said.

  “You don’t have to call me sir, because that makes me feel old.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said then smiled.

  “I need to ask you something. Come in and join your mother and me for a few minutes.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Danielle walked farther into the front room and sat next to her mom on the love seat. She was wearing a Nike short set with matching footies, no sneakers.

  Dexter leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. “Danielle, I like your mother. I want to take her out soon.”

  Dana stared at Dexter, shocked. “Where the hell had that come from?

  Danielle looked at her mother and smiled.

  “I want to first ask for your approval, just in case your mother says yes when I ask her.”

  “I approve.” Danielle grinned.

  “Wait. You can’t approve yet. You have to know more about me, and then you can approve or disapprove.”

  “Okay.”

  Dana watched Dexter while he and her daughter talked.

  “Less than a month ago, I was released from prison for manslaughter. I had accidentally killed a man who was choking my boss. I was an investment banker, and I knew how to manage, transfer, steal, and hide some of my clients’ money.”

  “Dexter!” Dana jumped in, “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  Dexter continued. “When I was in prison, I studied and got better at everything I already knew how to do. Have you heard about the Herbyte Investment Scandal?”

  “Who hasn’t?” Danielle asked. “Too bad the owner of iTFIGURES won’t be around to spend those billions.”

  Dexter smiled. “The police are going to eventually charge me with stealing that money, which is why I hired your mom.”

  Danielle’s mouth flew open and she looked surprised. “You stole $3.3 billion!”

  “That’s enough, Dexter!” Dana quickly said. “Danielle, get out of here so we can finish our meeting.”

  Danielle got up from the love seat. “Awwww, Mom. This was getting good.” She stepped around a coffee table and gave Dexter a high-five. “I approve. You have my permission to take my mom out on a date. And as long as you keep her happy, and be honest with her the way you were with me, you can even marry her as soon as she dumps my stepfather and…”

  “Danielle, now!” Dana looked upset. When her daughter left the room, Dana said to Dexter, “What the fuck are you trying to do? Don’t you want to stay out of prison? Danielle is an 18-year-old girl who loves to talk to her friends. Don’t forget the fact that she attends a university, a place where your guilt could be spread exponentially.”

  “Dana, relax.” It occurred to him that she would be the perfect mother for his first child. “You have strong words for a well-paying client.”

  “That’s because my legal services are for sale, not me. Your money can’t change the way I think, feel, or act.”

>   He smiled again, knowing Dana was going to be his wife. “On our first date, I’ll explain to you why I have to first look guilty in order to be acquitted of the charges.”

  She shot him a look of confusion “An insanity defense?”

  He laughed. That was a good one. “It’s complicated and simple, and it’s all wrapped up in deception and psychology.” She sat back and crossed her legs, staring at him, thinking of an intimate position to be in with him.

  “Now, when will you be available for our first date?” he said.

  “As soon as you get up the nerve to ask.” Just like that. Nothing to it. No challenges on ethical grounds. No pretending she wasn’t interested. No lame business-and-pleasure excuses. “You’re my only client now. I can’t say that I’ll be busy, because you haven’t even been indicted.”

  He couldn’t resist another smile. “That’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. Can you be divorced and waiting at the alter by Monday evening?”

  This time she laughed. “No. You have to first win my heart, earn Danielle’s respect, and prove that you can stay out of prison. The first two may be possible, but you will likely struggle with the last item on that list.”

  “You will need at least $3 billion to place a bet against me.”

  CHAPTER 21

  The run-down farm on the outskirts of Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania, hosted a crime scene now. Parked inside a leaning barn was Jerry Bean’s limousine, which served as a makeshift casket for two badly composed bodies. The scene included a photographer, six crime scene technicians, a homicide detective from the Mechanicsburg Police Department, a state trooper, a local news reporter, and Edwin Donaldson.

  Edwin was a 66-year-old white man who had decided to do some barn repairs and mow the grass in hopes of selling the 62-acre farm.

  The old farmer had called the state trooper first because he personally knew him, the son of his best friend. And now he was sitting on his tractor, posing for a front-page shot for the reporter. The reporter had promised to include a line about the price of the farm. Monday morning had turned out well. Relatively speaking.

 

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