by Lee Taylor
“And I’ll be fucked. It looks like she might lose him anyway. Jesus Christ.”
Dameon thought he’d hidden his furious response to Sean’s recital until he saw the older man looking at him with concern.
“I don’t blame you for being angry, Dameon. If I could kill the guy I would. You going to be okay, son?”
Dameon forced himself to respond quietly when what he wanted to do was yell and pound on the table.
“You know, Sean, I also would kill that man if I could. Somehow, some way, I will make him pay for what he did. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it kills me that Jesse wasn’t willing to talk to me about any of this.”
He tried to shake off his anger that was about sixty percent hurt. He appealed to her father. “How could she not have known that I would support her? That I would be proud of her? That she did the only thing she could to protect her son?” Dameon struggled against his pain but unable to hide his frustration, he added with a dejected sigh, “But she wouldn’t confide in me. Because she didn’t trust me.”
He turned to the crusty sergeant who was staring at him with a troubled frown. He sought to turn the attention away from himself and Jesse. “Thank you, Sean, for telling me this. I know it was hard for you. I appreciate your faith in me. And, yes, it will make a difference in how we develop the case.”
Sean’s eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry, Dameon. I hate that you’re hurt. Damn her. She’s doing what she always does. Since she was a kid. It’s just gotten worse. As the crap coming at her has gotten bigger and uglier, she’s pulled into herself more than ever. Thinks she can’t trust anyone but herself. And the hell of it is, I’m to blame for a lot of it. I wasn’t there when she needed me. Christ, even now, I’m leaving for a three month rotation and can’t even be in the courtroom to support her when she fights for her son.”
Dameon refilled both of their glasses and raised his to Sean.
“I’m going to be there on your behalf and my own. With your help we’re going to go in there with a case that will ensure that Jesse ends up with Trey.”
Wishing that he could spare Sean this last outrage but knowing that he couldn’t, Dameon pulled the sheaf of photographs out of his canvas satchel.
“Sorry, Sergeant, but I need more help. I hate to show you these but this is what we are dealing with.”
For the next several minutes Dameon sat back, allowing Sean to pore over the photographs. The litany of curse words that spewed from his mouth was epic. Dameon couldn’t help but smile just a little in spite of the situation. His own repertoire was piddling in comparison.
“As you can see, they’ve blacked out uniforms and faces so all the pictures tell you is that Jesse spent a lot of time virtually naked with multiple groups of men. The hell of it is because all of her missions were classified, she can’t disclose where she was and what she was doing. According to Eric, they’re going to claim that she is a long time prostitute.”
Surprisingly, Sean didn’t answer. His rage apparently rendered him speechless.
“Do you know any of the men in her unit? Any chance they’re here at Benning? Yes? Good. Tell them they need to meet with me at my hotel at zero nine hundred hours. Eric is coming in. With the guys in her squad and you and me, Sean, we’re going to help Eric answer the charges against your daughter without compromising the Army or Jesse’s role in it.”
Dameon lowered his voice, not attempting to mask the cold fury he felt.
“And, Sean, when we’re done getting Trey back? We’re gonna make those fucking lawyers pay for what they did. The U. S. Army doesn’t look kindly on having classified materials revealed without permission. Lawson and Schemer think they don’t take prisoners? Hell, they’ve never run up against a Former Army Ranger who also happens to be an officer of the law—and a Police Chief to boot.”
Dameon tipped his glass to Sean and quaffed the remainder of his drink. His smile was hard, cold.
“Ask me sometime how I got my code name… ”
~~~
“Thanks for calling on us, Chief Macarios. You don’t know how much it means that we have a chance to help Red Rock. She was our de facto leader on every mission. She was the one in the most danger, the most vulnerable position, and she never let us down. She was front and center, never shirked even the toughest assignment. If anything she welcomed it. We gave her the code name—Red Rock. But she earned it. Hell, she really was our rock.”
Wildfire added, “In contrast to that son of a bitch Colonel. The only reason he was in the field on that last mission was because it was being closely watched by the Allied Command. It was a big fucking deal. Millions of dollars in illegal weapons were at stake and we raked in no less than 20 tango terrorists. The Colonel knew how important it was. Or he would have been back at HQ giving armchair orders as he usually did.”
“Please, men, since you go by your code names, call me Wolf. Tell me about the Colonel. Where is he now?”
Whiplash grunted. “He’s a total asshole. Word is that his family bought him his position. Got him into West Point. They’re Boston Brahmin types. Accustomed to taking what they want. I guess he’s good looking in that patrician ‘Haavard’ sort of way. But a true pansy ass. He had a rep and he still does. But anyone who knows Red Rock knows what happened. None of us were surprised when she resigned. And given how honorable she is and dishonorable he is none of us were surprised that Red Rock took the hit. Imagine she wasn’t given much of a choice. If it makes you feel better, Wolf, Gen. Peters has the fucker on a short leash. I wouldn’t be surprised if Caldwell spends the rest of his active duty life parking his cowardly ass behind a desk where he won’t be a danger to his men or women.”
Dameon stored away the information for future reference and turned to the issue at hand.
“Look, men, you’ve all seen these pictures. You know what they’re going to try to say about Jesse. I don’t expect you to tell me who is in the pictures with her or the nature of the mission.” He nodded to Eric. “But we need to give Eric something he can work with in court. None of you can testify on her behalf but I can. I spent 10 years as a Ranger doing what you and Red Rock did in many of the same places. Without compromising you, I want to tell you where I think these photos were taken. All I’m asking you to do is confirm that I’m right. I’ve studied them and I’m certain I know 90 % of them. Will that work for you?”
Sean broke in. “Don’t forget Wolf, after each of her missions she got a commendation.”
“Damn, Sean, you’re right. Here’s what we’ll do, Eric. Let them show the pictures. I will identify the places and then you can make the point that commendations followed. If that doesn’t make the point that she was involved in an honorable high level mission, I don’t know what will.”
After a lengthy session, Dameon had what he needed and Eric agreed. He thanked the men and said a hard good-bye to Sean. He assured them they’d helped their Red Rock get what she needed most, her son.
On the way to the plane, Dameon questioned Eric, “Do Garrett’s lawyers know why she resigned her commission?”
“No, I’m convinced the Army buried that non-disclosure agreement as deep as they did Jesse’s missions. And we better hope like hell Lawson et al. don’t find it. Jesse’s right. If they did, Garrett would have the surefire weapon against her that he doesn’t have now.”
Eric mused, “I feel like shit going behind Jesse’s back, but we’re going to have to spring it on her. She’d shut us down if she knew.”
Dameon gazed at him through narrowed eyes.
“She didn’t give us a choice, Eric. There’s nothing ethical about letting your client lose her son because she’s too stubborn to ask for help.”
“Hell, Dameon. I don’t know how to thank you. Jesse’s gonna owe you big time, bro. You’re making sure she gets custody of her son.”
“We haven’t succeeded yet, Eric. But between your skills, and me on the stand, we’re going to run those fuckers into the ground
.
“As for Jesse and me?” He gave a bitter laugh. “She doesn’t owe me a goddamned thing.”
~~~
On the plane ride home Dameon had a ‘come to Jesus conversation’ with himself about Jesse. The discussion had been brewing in his mind since last Monday when Jesse cut him out of her life. He reminded himself of the hell he went through with Nita. It had taken him five years in a hellacious marriage to admit that Nita’s cutting evil and six extramarital affairs spoke to who she was and always would be. For most of those years he told himself that he stayed because of Zoey. He finally admitted that he had a crusader complex. He was convinced that he could change the devastating traits of his disloyal wife with the sheer power of his persuasiveness. Nita taught him a life lesson that he’d promised himself he would never forget.
Then along came Jesse. Beautiful, talented, and a genuine warrior. But Jesse was broken as profoundly as Nita was. While Nita tried to destroy others, Jesse inflicted her pain on herself.
Dameon had tried to ignore that he was doing the same thing with Jesse that he had with Nita. He’d been sure that he could heal Jesse. Make her believe in herself. Overcome years of self-sabotage and ugly experiences. But this last week had proved him wrong. He had to let go. Or give in to another decade of unhappiness with a woman he couldn’t help no matter how hard he tried. The decision was clear. He’d help Jesse get Trey back because they both deserved that. But as painful as it was, he and Jesse would be no more.
He gave a harsh laugh. The hell of it was, that it would be easier to do this time. He was so goddamned angry with her he didn’t want to be in the same room with her much less admit that he loved her.
~~~
Jesse stared in her closet, deciding what to wear. She planned to get to court early as she always did. She wanted to give herself extra time. She’d been so foggy lately that she wasn’t sure she’d remember where the courthouse was or where to park. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to fantasize. That things were like they were a short week ago. That Dameon would be here any minute to make sure that she got to the courthouse on time and that she was ready for the ordeal.
But that pipedream had shattered and she’d done the shattering. She hadn’t heard from Dameon since Friday morning and Eric had barely spoken to her. She’d shut them both out and apparently they’d decided that’s where they wanted to be. She took a deep breath and walked out to her Jeep, alone. As she’d insisted she wanted to be.
Chapter 29
“A child custody suit is a serious business. The well-being of the child is at stake, particularly in this case given the claims the plaintiff has brought to the court. This is not a typical hearing with all the rules and procedures inherent in a formal hearing. I will allow leeway and will often interject myself into the questioning. Trey Chambers will not be present for the testimony, but at the conclusion I will bring him in and question him. Neither attorney will be permitted to ask Trey questions.
“Mr. Lawson, as attorney for the plaintiff, you may begin and present the plaintiff’s case. Then Mr. Grant will present Ms. O’Donnell’s case. At any time either attorney can ask questions of any of the witnesses. Mr. Lawson, please begin. Present your case and the claims Doctor Chambers has made against his former wife.”
Judge Sylvia Thompson’s words were as crisp and professional as her appearance. Likely in her fifties, she was an attractive woman who brooked no nonsense. Her reputation was that of a tough unforgiving family court judge who went out of her way to ensure that the needs of the child were front and center. Dameon had worked with her and admired her. It was good to know that she respected him as much as he did her. He congratulated Eric. Garrett may have the largest and most aggressive legal team but Eric had hit a ten stroke in getting Judge Thompson on the bench to hear their case.
“Your honor, let me begin by stating that not only is Trey Chambers’ well-being at risk, his life is as well.” Martin Lawson paused to let his shocking words sink in.
Judge Thompson raised an eyebrow but simply nodded at the small dapper man in the $2,000 suit to continue. Dameon could have warned the prick that Judge Thompson wasn’t impressed with theatrics. The puffed-up attorney was so impressed with his own presentation that he missed the signal from the Judge.
“In summary, your honor, we have compelling evidence that Jesse O’Donnell has endangered her son’s life. As a former member of the military, she has a house full of weaponry that is openly available to her teenage son. Since she moved to Albuquerque she herself has been arrested on suspicion of possessing illegal drugs. Trey Chambers, who was never in trouble while under the care of his father, was also arrested in an incident where a man was shot. Trey is now on a rigorous probation plan because the APD considers him ‘at risk.’ In addition, Ms. O’Donnell now runs a business that she claims is a personal security company. That is questionable. From what we can ascertain her only client is closely associated with the Morales narcotics cartel.”
Dameon hadn’t missed the way Jesse’s eyes lit up when she saw him come into the courtroom. The flame died quickly at his stern nod. He spoke quietly with Eric for a few minutes then, ignoring Jesse’s silent appeal, went to sit in the back of the room. He sat where he could see and hear the proceeding but couldn’t smell her damnable intoxicating aroma. He almost pitied Eric, who was forced to sit next to her. Then again, pity wasn’t exactly what he felt. Just a week ago, he’d have given anything she asked, just to be sitting next to her. Dameon caustically reminded himself that she didn’t want him there.
Now watching Jesse while the officious man ticked off Garrett’s case, Dameon was concerned with her appearance. Beautiful as ever, she looked too pale, thinner than he’d ever seen her. Even sitting next to Eric, she looked vulnerable, alone. As Lawson detailed the outrageous charges, Jesse’s back stiffened and Dameon saw her eyes flash. Good, her fighting spirit was coming through. She would need it under cross examination.
Lawson continued. “We concede that Ms. O’Donnell is a beautiful woman. However we will present compelling evidence that in contrast to the image Ms. O’Donnell presents of her military service it is more likely that she used her physical attributes to augment her military income.”
At the shocked gasps in the courtroom, Judge Thompson banged her gavel.
“Silence.”
She pinned a hard gaze on Lawson. “That is an inflammatory charge, Counselor. I trust you have ironclad evidence to support it.”
“We do, your honor. According to the old saw: ‘Pictures don’t lie.’ ”
Turning toward Garrett, he continued. “In contrast to Ms. O’Donnell’s questionable background, Doctor Chambers is a physician and surgeon educated at the finest universities in the country. In the short time he’s lived in Albuquerque he has generated a prosperous plastic surgery practice. He is the member of six different Boards of Directors and is considered by many a rising community leader. He provides a home for his son consistent with his income and educational and professional background. We have put in evidence testimony from twelve leading citizens testifying to Dr. Chamber’s standing in the community. In addition, Dr. Chambers has had primary custody of his son for most of the boy’s life as his ex-wife has chosen world-wide jaunts rather than motherhood for the last ten years.”
Clearly annoyed, Judge Thompson interrupted. “Tone it down, Counselor. Please present facts—not your opinion.”
Dameon knew that it would be challenging to listen to the ugly case that Garrett’s legal team was making. But he was surprised how angry he was. Jesse did not deserve this. He reminded himself it was not his business to protect her. That was Eric’s job. But he was eager to go to the stand and blow this nonsense case to shreds. At that moment, Martin Lawson asked the court’s permission to show date stamped photographs of the defendant that they had received from a private source. When the judge agreed, Lawson clicked through a montage of photographs all showing a scantily clad Jesse surrounded by groups of primarily Middle Ea
stern men whose faces had been blacked out. To say the pictures were damning was an understatement. In each of them, Jesse looked as though she was entertaining the men and enjoying every minute. The reaction from the audience was electric.
Dameon knew that Eric had shown Jesse the pictures in advance, and was gratified to see that she did not react, only stiffened her shoulders further and sat ramrod straight.
“Mr. Lawson, I presume you will present evidence as to what these pictures represent, correct?” Judge Thompson was glaring at the plaintiff’s bench.
“Yes, your honor. From the best source we have. We will let Ms. O’Donnell elucidate us on the particulars of the photographs.”
Dameon had to give the asshole credit. His ploy was obvious. Garrett and his attorneys knew that Jesse couldn’t defend herself. They assumed that her silence would confirm her wrongdoing. Dameon huffed. It might have worked if he hadn’t come up with a strategy to shoot their theory up their collective asses.
“Do you have any questions, Mr. Grant, regarding these photographs?”
Eric glanced up at the photos. As though they were of no importance, he shook his head.
“No your honor. Not at this time.”
Her irritation showing, the judge glared at Eric. “I see. I would have assumed you would want to respond. As you do not, Mr. Grant, please present your case.”
Eric began by calling Sherman Caruthers to the stand. Caruthers indicated that he was a locksmith and had been in business for twenty-five years.
At Eric’s request, two officers wheeled in Jesse’s gun safe, a four-foot by five-foot rectangular steel box. Caruthers confirmed that it belonged to Jesse and that the locksmith had seen it in her house.
“Mr. Caruthers, if you would, please, open this safe.”
Caruthers turned to Eric in surprise. “You know I can’t do that, sir.”
Eric replied, “Yes I do know that. Please tell the court why.”
“This safe is one of the most elaborate I have seen. It can only be opened by her.” He pointed to Jesse, then to the locking mechanism. “This lock scans her fingerprint and her retina. No one but her could open it unless he had a ton of dynamite.”