best served cold

by Sinclair, Rachel

  I shook my head. “No. That’s not right, and you know it’s not right. In what world would that happen? Not in this one, and you know it. You know that these men wouldn’t pay that much money unless it was for the chance to get something that they can’t just get anywhere. And that means that these men were paying for the chance to have sex with beautiful underaged women, as many beautiful underaged women as they wanted. You heard the girls testify to just that.

  Plus, the accountant, Mr. Steven Barnes, he testified that the girls were all paid $1000 per party. That was Mr. Barnes’ testimony. Now, is Carl Williams going to pay his girls $1,000 a party just so that they can flirt with the men and give them some kisses and a chance to play chicken with them in the pool? Is that what you are to believe about this case?”

  I knew that I had the jury right at that moment. I could see it in their faces.

  “No. Ladies and gentlemen, you are smart. You are too smart to believe the nonsense that the defense counsel wants you to believe. You have common sense, same as anybody else, and your common sense is telling you that Carl Williams was sex trafficking underaged girls. Plain and simple. And let me remind you that punitive damages are available for this case. Punitive damages are damages which are designed to punish a defendant. To tell the defendant that his behavior is not acceptable in any way, shape or form. To tell the defendant that his behavior will not be tolerated in society. I urge you to punish this man, because this is the only way that Mr. Williams will be brought to justice for what he has done. I ask for compensatory damages for the entire class of girls, 100 in all, of $20 million. This for their pain, suffering and emotional distress. And another $480 million in punitive damages. Remember, Carl Williams was grossing $60 million a year off of these women, and he’s been doing it for the past 20 years. Send him a message by stripping him of almost all of what he’s grossed with these young ladies over the years. That would be his just desserts. Thank you very much.”

  I sat down, and Jonathan stood up. He reiterated the same things he said in his opening statement. He once again talked about how the girls were lying, there was no proof, the girls had motive to lie, and that the men at the parties just wanted to be around young girls to feel young again. There wasn’t anything new that he said in his closing argument, compared to his opening statement, because he didn’t present any new evidence.

  And that was that. Judge Foster gave the jury instructions, telling the jury what the elements were of the intentional tort of sexual battery, how they were to calculate compensatory damages and punitive damages.

  Now it was just time for the waiting game.

  Chapter 41

  Three days later, and there was not a jury verdict yet. I hated waiting for a verdict as it was. I really hated when a jury took days to come back.

  I understood why they were out, but it was still frustrating. I knew that they had a lot of evidence to sift through. Days of testimony, scores of witnesses, and, to top it off, I was asking for a lot of money. Granted, $500 million wasn’t that much money when you thought about what that guy did and how many victims were a part of the class.

  At the same time, I was intensely interested in what was going on with the Jurgen Williams case. I was in contact with the prosecutor on that case, and she was keeping me apprised on the status of the case. Every time a motion was filed, every time discovery was exchanged, every time Beth took a deposition, I knew about it.

  So, I knew that the case was going to go to trial sometime in the new year.

  That case made me nervous, even more nervous than the Carl Williams case did. It had been so many years. I had given up hope that I would ever get closure on that case. Now, the possibility of finally finding out what happened to my best friend still seemed like an unreachable dream.

  I just didn’t want to be disappointed. I knew that Jurgen had the best hired gun that money could buy defending him. Jurgen had an endless bank account, and he could afford the best of the best.

  What if he walked?

  In the meantime, I knew that there was one more loose end that I needed to tie up.

  I had to find out about Gloria Flores, my attorney. I needed to talk to her and find out why she did what she did. Was she just overworked and incompetent, or was she dirty, too?

  And if she was dirty, why? Was she bribed or blackmailed?

  Or was it something else?

  By Friday afternoon, I got notification from the court that the jury couldn’t reach a verdict, and that they were going to try again on Monday.

  I couldn’t just sit around the condo on pins and needles.

  I decided to get the next flight out to Kansas City. That nagging sense of unfinished business was driving me to it.

  I was going to find out what Gloria’s role was in this whole situation, if it was the last thing I did.

  Chapter 42

  When I got to Kansas City, I was hit in the face with the weather. It was freezing and there was about 6 inches of snow on the ground. I had just left San Diego, which was experiencing a “cold snap” where the overnight temperatures dipped to forty degrees, thus causing everybody to bundle up under electric blankets and build fires in their fireplaces, and entered into a winter wonderland.

  In a way, though, it seemed more like home than San Diego ever did. It was close to Christmastime, and, out here, it actually seemed like Christmas. It wasn’t just the fact that the Country Club Plaza was completely lit up in Christmas lights. Nor was it because the side of a large building on Metcalf Ave. was lit up with a large green and red wreath. It was because, well, there was snow on the ground and I never felt that Christmas was Christmas without some white.

  Not that I was terribly happy about the weather. For one thing, my coat, which was fine in southern California, was far too thin for subzero temperatures. For another, by the time I got into my Uber car, I was wet and couldn’t feel my toes. I guessed that that was what I got for impulsively coming to the midwest in the middle of December.

  The first thing I did, after I dumped off my baggage in my hotel room, was rent a car and drive straight over to Gloria’s house. There wasn’t time to waste, as I needed to be back in San Diego on Monday, just in case the jury came back in. Besides, even though I had waited this long to confront her, I suddenly felt that I couldn’t wait one second more. I had to see her face and ask her why she did what she did to me.

  Gloria lived in an older section of town, the Valentine area, where the homes were grand and built around the turn of the century. Most of them were renovated, for this area was extremely gentrified. This was a mid-town neighborhood, but it definitely was one that housed only yuppies.

  Gloria’s house was one of the larger houses on the block. The two-story house was made completely of red brick, with a giant stone porch.

  As I pulled up, I was greeted by the sight of Gloria herself shoveling her driveway. I drew a breath, feeling the sense of intense anxiety grow in my chest. Was this a good idea?

  I turned on the recorder on my phone and put it in my pocket.

  Gloria glanced at my car, and then, two seconds later, looked again. Then she put her gloved hand to her mouth and immediately threw down the shovel and started to head into the house.

  I got out of the car and walked rapidly towards the front door. I had to stop her before she went into the house, closed the drapes and refused to answer the door.

  “Ms. Flores,” I said in a loud voice.

  She turned her head slowly, as if she was afraid of what she was going to see. “Avery, was a nice surprise,” she said nervously. “What brings you to this neighborhood?”

  “You. You’re the only reason why I’m in this city right now. I live in San Diego. But, thanks to you, I was supposed to live the rest of my life in Cameron, Missouri, as a guest of the state. Of course, it didn’t quite work out that way. I found a real attorney who actually, you know, did investigative work and who, you know, actually called the medical examiner to come in and testify that Becky was r
aped before she was killed. Unlike you.”

  I suddenly felt my anxiety change to a white-hot anger. It was something about Gloria’s demeanor that brought it out. I wanted to slap her right at that moment, almost as much as I wanted to slap her after she threw my case so spectacularly.

  “Avery, I’m sorry about that. But it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Not your fault?” I suddenly forgot about how cold it was. My anger was warming me from the inside. “How was it not your fault? Did you even review the medical examiner’s report? You know that the ME report stated unequivocally that Becky was raped. The medical examiner did nothing wrong. The prosecutor did something wrong, because he covered up the evidence about Becky’s rape. He knew that I was innocent, too, but he railroaded me all the same. All you had to do was called the ME to testify, and I would have been acquitted. That’s all you needed to do.”

  “You don’t understand,” she said, her gloved hands flying up to her neck, straightening up the red and black scarf around it. “I had to…”

  “You had to what?”

  “I was going to lose my house,” she said desperately. “My husband left me, and I found out that he had taken out five credit cards in both of our names. Fifty thousand dollars. He was gambling. Buying drugs. I couldn’t file bankruptcy, because I had too much equity, and I-“

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She literally sold me down the river. I had a feeling, but hearing her say it was something else entirely.

  And then she shook her head. “Oh, what am I saying? My husband wasn’t gambling. I was. I was gambling. I had a problem back then. I mean, my marriage was falling apart, and I spent every weekend at the Argosy. Before I knew it, I had five credit cards that were all maxed out. I was $100,000 in debt. I own this house. I couldn’t file bankruptcy, but I couldn’t pay those credit cards.”

  “So you…”

  “I took money from Carl Williams. You can’t do anything to me about it, either, because the statute of limitations has run on my crimes. That’s the only reason why I’m telling you. But, yes, Carl Williams paid off my credit cards. Zero balance. And I stayed in this house.”

  I closed my eyes. “You couldn’t have taken out a mortgage against your home to pay off the credit cards?”

  Her eyes didn’t meet mine. “I guess I should have.”

  “Damn right you should have. Oh my God. I was going to spend the rest of my life in prison because you didn’t want to sacrifice your lifestyle even a little.”

  Her face was red. It might have been because she was ashamed of what she did. Then again, it might have been because the wind was whipping, the snow was falling, and her cheeks were chapped.

  Probably the latter.

  “I’m sorry,” she said feebly.

  “Well, there’s nothing more to say, I guess. Except that you’re going to lose your license to practice law. Not that you care about that, but-“

  “You can’t prove a thing,” she said with a haughty tone. The expression on her face said got you again.

  “You’ll find out differently.”

  And, at that, I got back into my car.

  Once I got back to my hotel, I immediately filed a bar complaint against her. I put her confession onto a jump drive and enclosed it in the letter.

  She was going to be disbarred for what she did. Of that I was sure. And that was going to hurt. In the 20 years since Gloria threw my case, she had risen through the ranks in the Kansas City legal field, making her name in criminal defense. She was representing big-time clients who had the money to pay her large retainers. Christian found out that she was clearing $300,000 a year.

  I giggled a little as I realized that she sold me for only $100,000, but she was going to be losing millions in the end, because no way would she ever be allowed to practice law in any state of the union again. State bars tend to frown on taking large bribes in exchange for throwing cases.

  Looked like her decision to take that bribe was going to cost her a lot of money.

  And I finally felt a sense of satisfaction and closure.

  Chapter 43

  I flew back to San Diego on Monday, just in time to get the text message that the jury had returned with a verdict.

  My heart was in my throat as I drove to the courthouse. I didn’t even stop to call the girls and tell them that a verdict was in. I didn’t want to see their faces if things turned out badly.

  Which they might. I didn’t know any other reason why the jury had taken so long to come back. I only needed 9 of the 12 to win the case, but I had to admit that I had no clue what they were going to do. I remembered that I watched a video one time when I was in law school. There were two different mock trials, in front of two different mock juries. Same facts, same evidence, same lawyers in each of these cases. In one of the trials, the jury found for the plaintiff and awarded her $100 million.

  In the other trial? The verdict was for the defendant.

  In other words, civil trials were a crapshoot.

  I felt sick as I arrived in the courtroom. Jonathan was already there, as was Judge Foster. “I’m staying at a hotel around the corner,” Jonathan said. “I was right in the middle of a lunch buffet when I got the text. Damn it.”

  “Mr. Augusto, Ms. Collins, I will now ask the jury for their verdict,”Judge Foster said. He then addressed the jurors. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict in the case of King et al. v. Williams?” he asked.

  “We have your honor.”

  At that, the bailiff went to the jury foreman and got the slip of paper from him. He took the slip of paper to Judge Foster, and Judge Foster looked at it. He had a poker face as he looked at whatever it was that was on that slip of paper.

  Judge Foster folded up the paper and handed it back to the bailiff, who, in turn, handed it back to the jury foreman.

  Every second seemed like an hour.

  “What is the verdict of the jury in the case of King et al. v. Williams?” Judge Foster asked.

  “We the jury find in favor of the plaintiffs,” the foreman began. “And we award the plaintiffs the amount of $5 billion.”

  Jonathan hung his head, but I could see a faint smile on his face. And then he started to laugh. “I told him, I told him. I told that SOB that he better settle. Woo-hee, it was even worse than I thought.”

  I felt stunned at the verdict. I was going to settle for $500 million. Turned out the girls were actually entitled to 10 times that.

  I did a quick calculation in my head and figured out that each of the girls was going to get $50 million.

  Good. They earned it.

  And then some.

  Chapter 44

  That night, it was time to celebrate. The girls were stunned, more stunned than me. “I don’t understand,” Morgan, a fair-skinned brunette said to me. “We’re all going to get $50 million?”

  “Yes. I mean, Carl will probably try to appeal the verdict, but he has no grounds to do so. None at all. I doubt that a single penny will be shaved off on appeal. At any rate, you guys won’t have access to all that money right away. You’re going to be appointed a special lawyer who will decide how each of you will receive the money. Most likely, it will be held in trust until your 21st birthday, but you will probably get a monthly amount until then.”

  The girls had a lot of questions, as I knew that they would. The money didn’t seem real to them.

  Hell, it didn’t even seem real to me.

  I tried to answer all of their questions about the money and how they expected to receive it. They were excited and nervous as they talked all night about what they were going to do with all that money.

  “I’m going to buy an island,” Rhianna said. “No, just kidding, I’m going to send a lot of money to my family. And then I’m going to buy an island.”

  Rhianna’s birth family lived in Somalia, and she came to America as an unaccompanied refugee five years ago. That money was going to go a long way. Maybe it even meant that she could be reu
nited with them.

  “I’m going to buy a huge manse in Beverly Hills and live like a Kardashian,” Naomi said excitedly.

  And so on. I heard every girl express their hopes and dreams and I had to smile. They all had gone through so much.

  This money could never bring back what they had lost. Their youth. Their innocence. Their sense that the world was not a horrible place.

  They would never be whole.

  But it certainly was going to help.

  Chapter 45

  Three months later

  Life was actually somewhat good. Gloria Flores was stripped of her license to practice law. She actually had the nerve to send me a nasty email about how I ruined her life.

  I did nothing but laugh. I ruined her life?

  Geez, that was rich.

  And Jurgen was convicted for the murder of Becky. Beth Ahern pulled out all the stops to make sure her case against Jurgen was air-tight. Turned out the fact that you can hire the best attorney money can buy wasn’t enough when all the evidence was against you.

  Jurgen called me before his trial began and threatened me. “You’re going to regret what you did,” he said. “I can guarantee you that.”

  “Oh? You got some mobbed-up goons on your side again?”

  At that, he hung up the phone.

  No, he didn’t have any mobbed-up goons on his side again. I knew that. He never had them in the first place. His daddy had the goons. His daddy was in Sweden, still, not wanting a thing to do with his son.