In Love and Law

by Drake Koefoed

  Marie giggled. “My Uncle is a jarhead.”

  “I know who he is. An officer and a badass. Even the Army likes him.”

  “Uncle Will, we’re going out dancing later if he wants to.”

  “Will you text your gramps if you stay out after midnight?”

  “Yeah. I wouldn’t want Force Recon looking for me.”

  “Have fun. Make sure Gramps knows where you are, or Force Recon will be looking for you.”

  They left. Will looked out at the trees.

  Sharon Isabel came in. “Settled. He gave us misdemeanor treatment on count 1 and dismissed 2 & 3 with prejudice. Judge Jack not pleased.”

  “Good resolution.”

  “They are giving me much better deals.”

  “You showed them you can try cases.”

  “It has something to do with you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “They want to be your pals so they do good by me.”

  “Law is politics. But when you get a resolution like you just did at mid trial, it usually means they are trying to salvage something out of a case they could lose outright. And you often give them what they want because it’s worth it to your guy. The prosecutor has a 20% chance of losing. That’s bad for his average but not an offer your client can refuse.” “So you support my decision.” “I think you were right. So far as supporting your decisions, I support any decision you make, even a bad mistake. You’re the commander on the ground. My support is not conditional.”

  “Your loyalty is frightening.”

  “I’m a pretty frightening guy.”

  “You are.”

  Will returned some phone calls and did some paperwork.

  Sharon came in. “Can I have one of those special catalogs in the box?”

  “You can have as many as you like. Phillipa intends to give away 1.2

  million of them by the 20th of next month. Do you want an autographed Marcie Della poster?” “Everyone does.” He flicked on the speakerphone and speed dialed. “Marcie Della’s office. This is Lucinda Cox” “Hi, Lucy. Will for Marcie.” “Sharon, you wear size eight.” She looked at her feet. “Yeah.” “Will?” “Hi there, kid. My sort of kind of law partner wants a poster.” “Which one you want, girl?” “Uh the one where you’re fiddling with the buckle of your shoe, and

  wearing the black baby doll.” “22 by 28?” “That would be great.” “To Sharon Isabel with love and kisses from Marcie Della?” “You know my name.” “I’m gonna know your shoe size in a minute.” “Eight.” “Oh, well I have eights all over the place. Way too many. Imelda

  Marcos quantities. What kind of stuff does she wear, Will?” “Pumps in neutrals, mostly 2”. Black and white kind of girl. Maybe

  some boots in your dark browns or black.” “Just what I need to get rid of. I’ll dump them at the airport in

  Portland and fax you a waybill. Some freight forwarder. Girlfriend can pay

  them or get some LTL carrier and get them to the nest that way.” “You’re coming to Oregon?” “No, I’ve seen the trees. Phillipa has someone going to Oregon, so. I’m going to Spain.” “Trying out your Lear?” “My Lear can’t jump the pond. I would have to fuel in

  Newfoundland or somewhere. I’m going in the Gulfie.” “Just for Spain?” “Oh, come on, dear. I’m going all over Europe to shake my booty. I’m going to sell twenty million pairs of shoes.” “I heard Phillipa is up in the market.” “If you had any money, Will, you should be heavy in them. Watch

  the stock when I go meet the Pope and put some pennies in the poor box.” “You’re meeting the Pope?” “Is he Catholic? I’m going to put a lot of pennies in the poor box. I’ve been poor, and it was no fun.” “I have the same opinion.” “Phillipa will match what I give the Pope. It’s going to be more than

  they think. They will pay me to ask for money for the rain forests and the

  starving children and that stuff. And I am going to do it with a vengeance.” “Good for you.” “I’m a bad girl. But if you will be good for both of us, maybe that

  will do.” “Life according to the virtues. My project, although I’m not sure I am

  doing it very well.” “Be virtuous for both of us. I have to go.” Sharon turned off the phone. “Wow.” “The office is in good shape?” “Yeah, Will. You know that.” * * * Will went back to the house. Chrissie and Hank were there. “Do

  y’all want to go out to eat?” They did. “Me, too.” “I thought you were out with Alan Lawrence.” “He had to do an accident on the Interstate.” Will took them to the steakhouse. They were seated at a good table. “Something wrong?” “No, Will. “Will, you know how to use a radio and call in Tac Air.” “Yes.” “You know how to call in Arty, and you know how to use every sort

  of small arms, how to command an infantry company. You know how to

  use any sort of handgun or rifle or shotgun I have ever seen?” “Most likely.” The waitress came, and Chrissie asked for a bottle of Jack Daniel’s

  three glasses, and some ice. It was brought immediately. Chrissie put

  down hers in one gulp. Will and Hank did the same. “Will. It’s time to put up or shut up. You know how to use one of

  these?” She threw a little velvet covered box on the table. Will opened it.

  There were two rings in it, an engagement ring and a wedding ring. Both

  were done in deep blue transparent sapphires. They were much prettier

  than the diamonds would have been. Mel walked in. “Sorry to disturb you. Got some news.” “Would you care to join us for dinner, Mel?” “Oh, I…” “Sit down.” He pointed at his glass and Mel, and the waitress got

  another glass. “I would like a T bone medium rare with fries, salad Bleu

  cheese, and lots of it. Will y’all have the same, or?” They went with the

  same. “You’re just in time for a special moment.” He got on his knee. “Chrissie, will you marry me?” She threw her arms around him and started crying. “Oh, Yes, Will!”

  When she stopped trembling, Will put her back in her seat, and put the ring

  on her finger. He put the box with the wedding ring in his pocket. He sat

  down. Mel drank his glass dry, refilled it, and did it again. He refilled it

  again, but did not touch it. “The news?” “Please.” “I took the two guys who got shot, you know, the ski mask guys. I

  went backward since we don’t know who shot them. And I got up to

  Michael Galvin. Some real old beef, it seems. Well, Michael not being

  someone you toy with, I had a SWAT team in to arrest him. He elected to

  shoot it out with them, and got blown away. Nobody is interested in the

  guy the ski mask bandits went for, because it’s so obviously justifiable.” “Thanks, bro.” “Oh then that makes me an uncle to Marie. So she has a car lot, two

  uncles, and a carry permit.” He passed it to her. “Marie, you being a dealer, you can buy and sell cars?” “That’s my business, Uncle Mel.” “And could you let someone have a key to a car, on a kind of no

  questions asked basis?” “If you asked, Uncle Mel.” “Realizing that the car might get damaged. Things happen. You

  might not be able to bill anyone for the damage. Metro would be your pals,

  but you might have to eat some smashed up cars time to time.” “Metro or someone would explain it all to my insurance?” “Oh, there would be no problems with your insurance.” Will put his hand on hers. “Marie, this would all be a need to know

  basis.” “I need to know what?” “You get told what you need to know. What you don’t need to know,

  you don’t try to figure out. You don’t ask questions about what your Uncle

  Mel is doing. You don’t know, you don’t need to know and you don’t want

  to know.” “I owe Hank a lot of money. I can’t lose these cars, then I couldn’t

  pay him. I have to pay him.” “You’re not going to lose a lot of money. You will l
ose sometimes,

  and make a lot other times. Tom James, your CPA, will be even more

  frustrated than he is now with your bookkeeping mistakes. But he will

  know what to do.” “So I am going to have under blankets cars.” “Don’t ask.” Her phone rang. She answered. “It’s Alan Lawrence. Can he join us?” “Sure.” “Alan, can you come to the steakhouse?” “Ask if he wants a T bone medium rare.” “He does. He’s coming.” The waitress brought their dinners. “Ma’am, we have a guest coming, so one more T bone if you will.” “Will you still call us waitresses ma’am if you get elected DA, Mr.

  Ames?” “I certainly will, ma’am. Ladies are always entitled to be addressed

  respectfully, regardless of what they do for a living.” “Even the world’s oldest profession?” “Arguably more honorable than my own. Yes, ma’am. Most of them

  have stories back of them that would be very hard to hear. I don’t much

  care to judge people by their circumstances. Bad acts are something else. “What about pimps?” “Chrissie Jasmine. Will’s fiancée. My fiancée is very much against

  pimps, and what he would do to them if it were legal would be something

  we don’t talk about in polite company. Will supports a woman’s right to

  sell herself with deep regret. If elected, he will enforce the law, but he has

  compassion for women who have to permit themselves to be used in that

  way to make a living for themselves, and often their children.” Alan Lawrence came in, and sat with them. Mel got up to rearrange

  them with Alan and Marie at the back. “I will have a steak for you in a few minutes, Sir.” “Thank you, ma’am.” They ate up their dinners, and the waitress came back to see if they

  wanted dessert. “Would y’all like some pie or something? We have some

  good choices.” “Ma’am,” Alan said, you have done very well by us. I, at least don’t

  want pie. He looked around the table. Everyone shook their heads. “Two gentlemen from the old school in one night.” “Don’t leave me out of the count,” Mel said, taking her left hand, on

  which there was no ring. He put her hand to his lips. “Melvin Alan

  Wright.” “Katie Louise Caprioso.” She was a hard used woman with a pretty nice figure. Will figured

  her for 45. She had some nice looking hair. Mel was still holding her

  hand. Will spoke up. “When do ya’ll close, Katie?” “Uh, as soon as you guys are done, actually.” “Why don’t you come hang with us?” “I’m not supposed to socialize with customers.” Will butted in. “How about you ask your boss to come explain that

  policy to William Ames?” “You are. I thought so.” “This man here who doesn’t want to let go of your hand is the Chief

  of Detectives for the Metro police. He’s a nice guy, a widower, and an

  extremely good investigator. I’m sure he knows your shoe size.” Will

  flashed a five and four to Mel. “I really doubt that.” Mel put his other hand on hers. “Nine.” Katie put her hand to her mouth. Will looked at the manager. He

  came over. “We’re having a nice rap with Katie. Can we take our dinners

  with us, and her, too? I can assure you that no harm will come to her.” “Katie, do you want to leave with these people?” “Yes, Ron, if it’s all right.” “I want to know who you are leaving with, Katie.” Business cards came spinning at him. A lawyer, a detective, a trucker,

  a car dealer, an assistant district attorney. “Looks like some pretty good company. See you tomorrow, Katie.” Katie put the dinners in boxes. They went to the house. Mel and Katie took one end of the sofa. Marie and Alan took the

  other. There was a lot of space left. Will started up the wood stove. Chrissie started up the stereo. Will pulled a catalog, signed it under his

  picture, and handed it to Katie. She opened it to the page where he had signed. “You really shot this catalog, 300 pages of Marcie Della” “I shot six thousand pix of Marcie Della.” “Can you get me a poster of her?” He flicked the phone. “Marcie Della’s office.” “Will for Marcie if she’s still awake.” “Will. Twice in a day. The Atlantic is boring.” “So much of the same thing. A friend of a friend wants a poster. Katie.” “I’m pulling the one with the baby doll outfit. It’s on the cover of

  Vogue, it’s our signature pic at this time.” Will turned to Katie. “To Katie with love and kisses, Marcie Della,

  she will draw some little hearts?” “That would be great!” “It’s done, and marked to go to your office. Who else is with you?” “Chief of Detectives Mel.” “So to the Chief, Mel, love ya forever?” He nodded. “I’ll send you various stuff. What size shoes does Katie wear?” “Nine.” “Katie, are you a businesschick or a femme fatale, or a sweet and

  innocent? I might have some shoes to hand out.” “I wait tables.” “There might be some sensible shoes somewhere. Not really my line

  of thing, girl, but it could happen.” “I’m getting married, Marcie.” Chrissie said. “I’m sad and lonely, but not envious because I never thought I was

  good enough for you, Will. I had a hell of a crush on you when I was a

  little girl.” “You’re good enough for just about anyone.” “OK, I still need to look at the Atlantic. If she doesn’t treat you right,

  I’ll make her regret it. I don’t know how to make violent threats, but you

  could help me.” “You’ll smack her in the face with a framing hammer.” “Whatever that is, consider her so threatened.” “Seeya.” They hung up. “You’d better treat me right, Chrissie. You know what might

  happen.” “You will get a framing hammer, show Marcie which end to hold, and

  then perhaps she will smack me in the face with it. Absolutely terrifying!” Everyone laughed. “I heard wrong, or you guys are going out dancing?” “We might be.” “Now you treat my niece like a lady, or I might sic Marcie Della on

  you.” “Not a lot of guys would mind that.” “Well, I can call her. But you date my niece or my model, and

  forsake the other.” “Which do you think I should go for?” Marie poked him. “Well, Marcie makes a lot of money. She has a Lear jet. She’s

  supposedly the prettiest girl in America. She’s touring Europe for Phillipa

  in a Gulfstream, but I think what she wants is a seven three. On the down

  side, she can be less than kind. She teaches the course for junkyard dogs. She could marry you, and then get caught banging someone else’s husband,

  and refuse to apologize. “Now the one you have on trial cuddle there is sweet. She has a place

  for you to park your truck. You know about her lack of judgment. If you

  pick her, you will have to watch that she doesn’t do something silly. You’ll

  have to check her books so the CPA doesn’t quit. But she is genuinely

  nice.” “Well, I think I want this one here.” She held him close.

  Chapter 8 Following Sea Over Deep Reefs Musical Theme; Yes I Am by Melissa Etheridge Will got up pretty early, perhaps awoken by Marie fussing around in the kitchen. Alan was gone. “Did something go wrong last night?” “No. I wonder how you got any sleep with the rabbits in the next room.” “We didn’t hear you. Maybe our part of the hutch was shaking a little.” “Today is the day.” “I’m not worrying. Whatever the voters choose to do.” “Clara Hart says you will get two thirds of the vote.” “That might make some people stay home. I would like everyone to vote, and let us know.” “They’re going to let you know.” Will went to the office. Sharon was getting a lot of work done, but Will kept being distracted. Everyone wanted him to speculate. Reporters called from all over. He understood that the election might be news in Maine, but he was pretty surprised to be called from the Philippines, Guam and Moscow. The Russian reporter spoke lovely English, with a light accent.

  She knew everything already. Almost all the reporters wanted the catalog. Poster requests went to
Phillipa’s web site. You could have one for $5 or three for $10, about cost. You could download pics, or the whole catalog free. In the first week, the catalog was downloaded 180,453 times. Marcie was charging $5 for an autographed one, donating the proceeds to a different charity each day. Marcie was signing posters in limousines, on the airplane, and at every other opportunity. She had two assistants who put them in front of her and told her what to write. She complained of writer’s cramp, poor girl. When she saw a doctor he cut her down to a thousand a day, Pauli Nathan Phillipa raised the autograph price to $50. He got some pens specially made. They wrote in black ink with tiny gold glitter in them.

  Real gold. You could have one Marcie had used for another $50, but you could take the $50 off a $500 order. The pens said Marcie Della on them, and they were not subtle. * * * The election returns started coming in. Doug conceded. He met with Will at a little restaurant that had a back porch. It was closed, but the cook and waitress were working. They had coffee, looking at the river. “Will you help me transition?” “Of course. Will, you ran a very honorable campaign. I did some things I should not have done, but you never called me on them. The P.I. That was not right. I’m sorry about that.” “I accept your apology. Please destroy all copies of those pix.” “I have done that.” “Marcie didn’t do anything. It could be a tremendous injury to her career.” “If he shows up with copies, Will, it will be the fucking end for him. I’ll nail him to a tree and give Marcie a box cutter.” “The Osama bin Laden autograph model? You know she likes designer stuff.” “Yeah. Well, she is flying high.” “Uh huh. About 40,000 feet.” “You seen her Lear?” “No, but she says it is lavishly appointed.” “When she says lavishly…” “It means something a Saudi prince would envy.” They looked at the river. Leaves floated along in lazy curves. Trout quietly took insects from the surface. On the other side, fir trees with moss on them stood up the steep hillside. “The natural world has us beat all to hell. I pursued success and forgot honor. You pursued honor and received success. The trees just did what they do, and there they are.” “Aristotle does not promise the virtuous man success, and it seldom happens.” “It did.” “I’ve been lucky. In the sandbox, once, my spotter had to clock to help someone. I came out the back door of the house we’d been in, and didn’t have him to back me with the SAW. Two bad guys were there with the usual AKs, and I just had a sniper rifle. At 800 yards, it would have been a shut out, but this was 10 yards.” “And you with nothing but a Whitworth Express in .357 H&H.” “It amazes me how much people find out about me. I don’t even know what you carry, although I’m sure you do.” “A Sig in .40 S&W.” “Nice piece.” “So how come you are here and they are not?” “I had a round in the chamber, so I dropped the safety and shot from the hip, center punched one of them. I worked the bolt, and the other one pointed his rifle right in my face. It went click, and I let him have it.” “What happened to the guy your spotter went to help?” “He didn’t make it. But we tried. If we hadn’t…” “You would have let the Corps down. You would never have stopped wondering if you could have saved him.” “Right.” “So now you are going to say what?” “A good office. I will make it a great one. Doug is going to help me get going, and I need his help. Steve the Mouse will continue to be Chief Deputy if he will be willing. Chrissie will work for him, and I will not discuss her work with either of them. Doug brought together a great crew, and I intend to keep them all from the Janitor to the Chief Deputy. If someone has done something bad, that would change, but so far as I know, they have not.” “I can go on as I like. I could go in practice here.” “That’s up to you.” “Press conference?” “We could. I’d just talk with Clara Hart from Channel 2 if that was cool with you.” “You do that if it is what you want to do.” “I’m not going to say anything bad about you, Doug. You’ve already said all those things to yourself, and it’s not anybody else’s business.” “Can I apologize?” “Sure.” “Not that I was wrong with you, but I feel bad about how I treated Chrissie.” “She can probably write it off. Doug, you put a lot of evil people right where they deserved to be. You did a few little bad things, but for the most part you were good.” “Thank you, Will.” Will called Clara, and they met at the studio. “Will, an exclusive interview?” “Don’t think we don’t want something. But it won’t be for me or Doug. For the disadvantaged. One of us might ask you to do a little story for St. Vincent de Paul or something. In fact, would you call Teresa and offer her a little spot?” “I will.” He pulled two catalogs from his briefcase. He signed one of them “To my distinguished colleague, Doug. Will Ames.” He handed it to Doug.