A Butler Summer
Page 18
“I paid her twenty K.”
“Wait. What?”
“This has bribery implications written all over it.”
“But you should meet her. Nice piece of ass. You’d like her.”
“Whoa. And the language,” Naim said, rolling his eyes as if to say don’t be a total ogre in front of the lady.
“Sorry,” Thurman said, frowning. “It’s true though.” He smiled.
“One big bag of surprises is what this case is and I cannot take another,” Naim said. “Are you sure you were injected with something other than medication?”
“It wasn’t insulin, Naim why are you yelling at me?”
“I’m not,” Naim replied cautiously. “I cannot walk into a courtroom and make bold statements that turn out to be wrong though.”
“Nope, can’t do that,” Ginger said, “without Shai making him eat dog’s ass. Fur and all.”
The vivid image that Ginger had conjured up caused both men to smile.
“There’s medical records to prove otherwise, Naim. Get them I’m ready to sign any authorization to get my medical records. I’m not a damn diabetic.”
C H A P T E R 67
BRANDY WAS AT THE New York Times’ Washington offices gathering intelligence so that she could write a column, of course, not to pump said information to defense counsel, Naim Butler.
At the hotel suite dining room table, over vodka and lemon cake, Naim and Ginger were discussing the Thurman case as it stood. He had filled her in about all that she’s missed while in New York City, with Marco and Amber sitting on the living room sofa watching TV, listening to legal jargon-spewing from Naim’s mouth.
“Very colorful week you’ve had I see,” Ginger said when he took a breath and a much needed sip of coffee. “Far deeper than what’s been in the news.”
He nodded. “So what do you think of our celebrity? The notorious David Thurman.”
“I’m convinced that had he not been stopped, he was on his way to becoming Charles Manson.”
“No doubt. The fuckers been on the news every night. The lead story. His trusty press photo courtesy of the MPD photographers has gone viral. I’m baffled by the memes. Some people are glad that the universe has gotten rid of Elberg and Weston. And I have the sick pleasure of working to get the guy off.” His manner of speech was didactic—practiced from lecturing and courtroom diatribe.
Finishing a bite of cake, she said “Lucky us,” assuring her boss that she was on his team. She thought of a bible verse, St Luke Chapter 2 verse 23: He that is not with me is against me. She was undoubtedly with him.
He gave her a kind expression confirming his faith in her, despite his knowledge that they had a nutcase on their hands. “Still can’t believe he convinced a prison nurse to call me. That or his injuries, I have to get him out of there.”
“Well sir, he’s a handsome man, that’s a social media fact. So maybe she likes him. Have you read the comments on his mug shot posted on Facebook? You’d think he was Tom Cruise.”
“Interesting.
“What do you think about our King David?”
“Just to keep the record straight, I think you’re right that his phone is never on the hook, if you catch my drift. He’s done how many Middle East tours?”
“He says ‘two’, but I have an investigator getting his whole record. He’s going to check his US attorney office contacts to find out how Shai knew I was scheduled to visit Jillian Thurman. He’s doing this off the grid, because I can’t trust anyone in D.C. I know that they don’t and they think they can control me with D.C. roadblocks. Ain’t going to happen. You’re not the only one coming to D.C. from New York. I want my own team, not bought Washington insiders. This is frightening.”
She chortled. “I’m not buying that it’s frightening to you. You love this. Your tone, though, was straight-up. So much so, the jury might buy anything that you sell.”
“I don’t want to get that far. I need to put this puppy to bed before a trial.”
“So, you have what in mind?”
“Interviews of David’s father and wife. Prep for this arraignment and bail hearing are underway at the firm by aides. To my knowledge all the prosecution has is an ATM video allegedly showing David using the judges’ debit card. David said he gave them a handwriting sample. I’m assuming that card may have had a credit card transactions requiring a signature to compare.”
“That’s OK, right, because you have his signature on the medical release form. And you can get an independent analysis, especially since you’re going to introduce that he was drugged by the government’s attorney and/or MPD detective’s while giving the under duress sample.”
“You have a point, A strong one.”
“They’ve reported—the dishonest media—that he killed over laws that were designed to send his wife to jail for a mandatory term. I just can’t believe he killed human beings over this matter.”
“The simple truth, Gin, is people have been killed over much less.” He shook his head. “If senators and judges are being slaughtered because people want stress free bills passed, there’s going to be a lot of funerals in Washington. Every bill hurts someone. Period. There’s a huge opioids epidemic right now.”
“Yes, it’s stunning.”
“And I can tell you that if Donna Lincoln wins the election, penalties for the illegal sales of Xanax, Percocet and maybe even heroine will be hardened. People will praise her and Republican lawmakers for their effort to deter its use, which causes all of these media publicized overdoses. But as always the bulk of the new statutory punishments will disproportionately snag black people, and then comes the public outcry.
“Let’s not forget that it wasn’t a public health issue until it became a white issue. It was a lock they asses up issue when it was blacks and crack,” Ginger said.
“So, again, every bill from criminal justice to medical care, someone will get hurt. There are three hundred twenty-five million people here. Imagine pleasing them all. Hence, David Thurman simply cannot kill politicians because he was one of the negatively affected. Can’t please the world.”
“Wait. Tax credits please,” she said, smiling. “Everyone loves to get the healthy first-quarter government check. No disagreement there.”
“Wrong you’ll have people screaming that the wealthiest people got tax breaks, too.”
“I’m not pleased right now,” Marco said, laughing from across the suite. “All of this legal talk and political ideology and being confined to this suite makes me feel like I’m in prison.”
“No doubt,” Naim said, smiling. “Life sentence, with me as warden, ‘cause you, my friend, won’t be leaving my sight. Let’s go downstairs for lunch, for now.” He looked at Amber who was laughing, and to her, he said, “I don’t know what’s funny, hun. You have life, plus twenty years.”
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Did you love A Butler Summer? Then you should read Life After Death: A Romance Suspense by TJ Graham!
Devastated by the death of her husband of fifteen years, Mackenzie Hill manages to pull herself up from the depths of despair, dust off her journalism degree, and soldier ahead to raise their three children alone. Three years later, with the achievement of a major journalism award, her well-adjusted children happy, Mackenzie seems to have gotten her life back on track. Inside, she represses the pangs of loneliness and longing for her husband that gnaw at her heart. At the urging of her best friend, Joel Sanders, Mackenzie makes a failed attempt to explore dating. She gives in to the flirting of Keith Wilson, an Atlanta sex crimes detective, who himself seeks relief from the cruel reality of life and death, intersections that he must battle daily.Enter Doctor Andre Quinton Lang. Following the brutal unsolved murder of h
is wife and daughter, he moves to Atlanta hoping to lose himself in a new city and his work, while still struggling to conquer the memories that continue to haunt him.Through chance events, Andre and Mackenzie meet, falling head-over-heels for one another. The two of them embark on what has the potential to be the loving, fulfilling relationship that they both need, unaware that in the shadows of their bliss lurks a killer who has followed Andre to Atlanta. A killer intent on rekindling the bloody act of vengeance that had shattered Andre's world three years earlier.
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Watch for more at Rahiem Brooks’s site.
About the Author
"My previous novels explored how people were tied together by crime," Brooks says. "But with A Butler Christmas, I sought to connect peo- ple by the mystery of falling in love with new friends and estranged family. I'm excited and eager and anxious--like going on my sopho- more dance. To join the Prodigy Gold family is a great honor and thrills me to my wing tips."
Brooks grew up in Philadelphia be- fore trekking to Los Angeles to study film/TV at UCLA. Finding it difficult to break into Hollywood, he adapted his screen play into his first novel and later pursued an Eng- lish degree at Harvard University and making writing a full-time job. He lives in Philadelphia with a Manx.
Read more at Rahiem Brooks’s site.
About the Publisher
The History
Prodigy Publishing Group was founded in 2009 and has steadily published distinguishable trade paperback fiction since. Its new flagship imprint Prodigy Gold Books spearheaded its journey in 2017, releasing Project Terror, One Day You Will, A Butler Christmas, and Gray Hawk of Terrapin, a line up that delighted readers and other authors. Prodigy Gold Books has grown exponentially and is dedicated to publishing a variety of must-read books on a wide array of topics and genres.
The Mission
Our mission is to showcase established voices and to introduce emerging new ones—both fiction and nonfiction.