Dark Justice

by William Bernhardt

  Granny’s eyes went wide. Her face was a vivid red. “Confession? I didn’t confess—”

  Ben smiled, then rose to his feet. “We’ll let the U.S. Attorney decide about that, okay?”

  Granny ran around her desk. “Give me that tape, Kincaid.”

  “No chance.”

  Her face twisted up in a knot. “You’ll give me that tape if I have to beat you to a bloody fucking pulp.” She looked like she could do it, too.

  It was Ben’s turn to feign a yawn. “A threat of violence. It’s just too trite.”

  She clenched up her fist. “I’ll show you trite—”

  “Loving?”

  From just outside, Ben’s enormous investigator poked his head through the door. “Need somethin’, Skipper?”

  “I don’t know.” He smiled at Granny. “Do I?”

  Granny’s face was livid. She looked as if she might explode at any moment. But she kept her mouth shut.

  Ben gathered his briefcase and headed toward the door. “See you in court, Granny.”

  Chapter 76

  BEN STOOD AT THE crest of the hill and gazed out at the forest all around him. This was the same location to which he had been brought by force only a few days before, but now everything was different. The landscape was so changed that an unknowing observer gazing at Before and After photos would never have guessed they were of the same site. Probably wouldn’t have guessed they were of the same planet.

  The shack was entirely gone, burned. All that was left was blackened rubble—and not much of that. A thick gray ash powdered the hillside.

  The verdant view that once crested the hill was now black. Black and black and black. Burned beyond recognition. Plants, ground cover, trees. The fire had spread hundreds of feet in all directions before the team from the Forest Service had managed to extinguish it. What once had been a thriving example of nature’s wonder in all its bounty was now nothing but charred desolation.

  As Ben had said before, he was no nature lover. But gazing out at this waste, this ruin, this spoilage—it just made him want to cry.

  But he held it back. He didn’t have time for such indulgences. He had work to do.

  He saw Maureen drive up the blackened road, park, climb out of her Jeep. He hadn’t visited her since he left the infirmary. He was glad to see her again; she looked much better now.

  And a few minutes after that, Ben saw a bright red pickup driven by Jeremiah Adams—head foreman of the Magic Valley sawmill, lifelong logger, supervisor, and father of the former Magic Valley district attorney.

  “What the hell’s she doing here?” Adams said as soon as he spotted Maureen. “You didn’t tell me there were gonna be any of them here.”

  Maureen wasn’t any happier to see him than he was to see her. “It seems Ben neglected to give either of us many details. What’s up, Ben?”

  Ben braced himself. He knew this was not going to be easy. “I just wanted to get the two of you together. You’re both the respective local heads of your factions now, and—well, I just wanted you to talk. Explore possibilities. Consider one another’s needs and wants. See if you can’t maybe put an end to all the hate and violence and turmoil and just—work things out.”

  Adams ripped off his cap and swore. “Jesus H. Christ.”

  Maureen rolled her eyes. “Where do you live anyway, Ben? Disneyland?”

  “I’m serious. You’re both adults. There’s no reason why you can’t sit down and talk.”

  “To what end?” Maureen said bitterly. “He’s never going to agree with me.”

  “She’s right,” Adams added. “I ain’t never gonna agree with her.”

  “You don’t have to agree with each other,” Ben said. “Just try to understand each other.”

  “I understand her,” Adams said. “She cares more about trees than she does about people.”

  “And he cares more about making a buck than he does about our natural resources.” She looked at Ben sharply. “See? We understand each other perfectly.”

  “Would you listen to one another? You sound like children. Turning important issues into a playground squabble.”

  They both folded their arms. Neither spoke.

  “You have to think of something,” Ben continued. “Some solution. You’ve got to stop labeling each other villains and treating each other accordingly. Don’t you see?” He stepped forward, arms outstretched. “It’s all a matter of perspective. No one thinks of themselves as a bad guy. No one intends to be evil—they do what they do for a reason. Green Rage destroys equipment—to save the trees. The loggers harass the environmentalists—to save their jobs. They both believe in what they’re doing. Granny subverts trial procedure—to keep criminals off the streets. Even Sheriff Allen had a reason for his horrible actions. None of us are all good or all evil. Labeling your opponent as evil doesn’t help. The only solution is to work together and try to come to an understanding.”

  “We’ll come to an understanding,” Adams said, “when we’ve driven these meddlers out of the forest.”

  “Or maybe we’ll drive you out of the forest,” Maureen said emphatically. “We’ve done it before.”

  “No,” Ben said. “You have to stop the fighting.”

  Adams pursed his thin lips. “Bull.”

  “Ditto,” Maureen said. “We’ll keep fighting. We have to.”

  “You can’t keep fighting!” Ben shouted.

  “We have to,” Maureen insisted. “If we keep fighting, we’ll win.”

  “Wrong. If you keep fighting, you’ll destroy each other.”

  “That’s a load of—”

  “You don’t know what—”

  “Look at this!” Ben shouted. He windmilled his hands. “Just look!”

  The two antagonists fell silent for a moment and gazed out at their surroundings. The shack was destroyed. The landscape was destroyed. Trees were charred. All that remained as far as the eye could see was black and dead.

  “This is what you’ll end up with,” Ben continued. “You’ve been fighting for months, and what has it gotten you? Three people are dead. Millions of dollars worth of equipment on both sides has been ruined. Wasted. And four hundred old-growth trees burned, right here on this hilltop. And to accomplish what? Nothing, that’s what. Nothing at all.”

  He saw Maureen and Adams look at one another, tentative glances out the corners of their eyes. Finally Adams spoke. “We’re not the ones who set that fire.”

  “No,” Ben answered, “but if the people you employed hadn’t assaulted Green Rage, hadn’t run poor Doc down, it never would’ve happened. You’re both responsible.”

  The two fell silent again. Ben felt a strong breeze whistling through his hair. He remembered that he was high up on a mountain—and that the trees that had once sheltered the summit were now gone.

  “Think, Maureen,” Ben said quietly. “You were trapped in that shack, trapped with your enemy, flames all around us. It was hopeless. The only reason we survived is that the two warring factions worked together. Slade knew about the radio. You knew how to work it. Slade knew about the generator. You knew how to use it. Slade knew about the well and you both helped pull each other through the fire. If you hadn’t worked together, we’d all be dead now.”

  Ben took a deep breath. “People—it’s the same thing here. You’ve got to stop fighting and learn to work together. Before you destroy each other. And everything and everyone caught in the middle.”

  Adams was the first to speak, after a long, heavy silence. His voice was much quieter than before. “Won’t make any difference about the Magic Valley forest. It’s all scheduled and prepped. I can’t stop it.”

  “I can’t countenance the destruction of any old-growth trees,” Maureen said.

  “Talk to each other,” Ben urged. “See if you can’t work out a solution.”

  “Why did you haul me out here, anyway?” Adams asked. “What makes you think I’d be remotely interested in making peace with these tree huggers?”
<
br />   “Because you’re the leak,” Ben said flatly.

  “What?” Adams’s face twisted up. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the inside man who’s been feeding information to Green Rage about logging activities. You’ve been doing it for months.”

  A wide range of expressions fluttered across Adams’s face, till finally it settled into a simple look of resignation. “How did you know?”

  “I didn’t—for sure. But I was told repeatedly that Slade and the loggers were looking for a leak, and I knew it had to be someone relatively high in the local logging hierarchy. I saw you whispering with Al in the courtroom the day the trial began, and I couldn’t imagine what you would have to talk about. Unless …”

  “I didn’t do anything that would set back the logging,” Adams said firmly. “Or put any of our boys out of work. I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  Maureen’s lips parted. “You did more than that. If you’re Al’s informant—you fed us information that enabled us to blockade the road and stop the illegal harvesting of old-growth trees in the Crescent mountain basin.”

  “You see,” Ben said, gently pushing them together. “You two have more in common than you know.”

  Maureen raised her eyes to meet Adams’s. Their eyes locked, and for a long moment, neither looked away.

  “Well,” Adams said at long last, “I guess I’m willing to try. Can’t hurt to try, I s’pose.” He tentatively held out his hand.

  Maureen hesitated only a moment before taking it. “No,” she said quietly. “It can’t hurt to try.”

  Ben closed his eyes. Maybe there was some hope for this planet after all.

  Chapter 77

  BEN HAD BEEN HAVING SUCH a splendid day he almost hated to do anything more. Better to split a bottle of champagne with Loving and savor the moment. His last three meetings were get-togethers he’d been looking forward to for a good long while. The next meeting was one he’d give a great deal to be able to skip altogether. But there was no avoiding it.

  He found her in a park not far from the hotel where they’d both been staying. She was sitting on one end of a seesaw, her chin in her hands, her feet in the dirt.

  She did not look up as he approached. “Mind if I join you?” He straddled the opposite end of the seesaw, bouncing Christina a foot or two into the air. “How are you?”

  She shrugged, just barely.

  “Nice weather, don’t you think? It was a little smoky in town after the fire, but that seems to have passed.”

  He leaned back on the seesaw, propelling her even higher into the air, thinking that might compel a response. It didn’t.

  “Al’s been caught,” Ben said. “He’ll stand trial for arson, maybe attempted murder. I was thinking I might represent him. I mean, we know he did it, but given the circumstances—” He started again. “They’ve also got Slade’s hoods, including the one who ran down Doc, but Slade himself disappeared shortly after he was airlifted out of the forest. Half the state and federal law enforcement community is looking for him, but so far, no luck. I hope they’ll catch him—but I have my doubts. He’s a pretty slippery creep, used to taking care of himself.”

  He sighed. Her silence was cutting, rending the air between them like the swath of a scythe.

  “I’m just so relieved,” Ben said, continuing his babbling soliloquy. “I was so worried—so afraid that maybe, just maybe Zak was the murderer. Maybe he’d been a killer all along and it was my fault he was released the first time so he could kill again. I can’t tell you what a weight this lifts off my shoulders.”

  Christina still didn’t look up, didn’t answer.

  “Christina, I’m so sorry about what happened. I couldn’t think of any other way to compel Sheriff Allen to talk. I knew he liked you. And I knew he had a conscience. I just had to figure out a way to tap into it, to give him the excuse I thought he wanted, deep inside, to confess.”

  He drummed his fingers on the iron handle. God, he wished she would talk. Yell or scream or shout or something.

  “I thought about telling you beforehand, but if I did, that would make you an accomplice to the trick. It didn’t have anything to do with trusting you. I just didn’t think I could put you in the position of having to manipulate a man about whom you cared.”

  “I know that,” Christina whispered. “I knew it then. I was just—stunned, I guess. The thought of going to jail again—”

  “I know,” Ben said. “I promise I’ll never do anything like that again.”

  Christina shook her head. “Preventing Zak from being convicted of a murder he didn’t commit is a lot more important than my temporary discomfort.”

  “Yes, but it was more than just playing on your terror of jail. It was taking advantage of your personal relationship. Using you to expose the man you’d—you’d become close to.”

  Christina let out a soft, empty laugh. “Ben, you are so utterly … clueless.” She smiled, but it was not a happy smile. “I liked Doug fine, but I was never serious. I was just—” She bit down on her lower lip. “Never mind. Just never mind. Let’s leave.”

  “No,” Ben said, “I want to say something. A few days ago, Maureen told me I was being selfish—about you. I didn’t understand what she was saying, but I think now maybe I do. I expect so much of you. I expect you to drop everything and come running every time I get the impulse to take some case. I become immersed in the case, so you have to, too. I don’t have a social life, so you can’t either. Who knows—if I hadn’t gotten in the way, you might’ve remarried, had some children. A life of your own.”

  “Ben—”

  “Let me finish. I’ve sucked up your whole life for years now. And it isn’t fair to you. I don’t want to hold you back, Christina. You’ve got to live your own life, and I don’t want to get in the way.”

  “Ben, will you just shut up for a minute and listen?” She kicked back with her legs and lowered herself to the ground. “I don’t know what that woman has been telling you, but let me give you the straight scoop. I’m in charge of my own life. I had to learn at an early age to take care of myself, and I’ve been doing it ever since. Not to disillusion you, but you haven’t forced me to do anything. I’m the one who’s been making all the choices, all along. I decided to become a legal assistant, then later to go to law school, because it’s what I wanted to do. I decided I didn’t want to be another corporate law firm zombie, so I hitched my wagon to you, because I thought the work you were doing was more important than helping corporations screw one another back at the law firm. But make no mistake about it, Ben—you didn’t make me do anything. It was my decision the whole way.”

  “Oh.” Ben felt breathless just from listening to that illuminating spiel.

  “And I’ll tell you something else.” She jumped off the seesaw, flinging Ben downward. She walked to the other side of the seesaw. “I don’t regret a minute of the time we’ve spent together. Not one minute.”

  She headed back toward her end of the seesaw, then stopped. “Except maybe that business with the creep who kept cutting off women’s heads and hands. I could’ve lived without that. But the rest of it—”

  She turned and, smiling, gave him a firm thumbs-up.

  Chapter 78

  “I FOUND IT! I REALLY DID! I found it!”

  Deirdre burst into Ben’s hotel room just as he was packing. She was breathless with excitement, barely able to communicate.

  “Found what?”

  “The tree! The one I’ve been looking for all this time!”

  Ben’s lips parted. “You mean—the world’s largest cedar tree?”

  “Yes! I’m almost certain of it. It’s huge—over a hundred and seventy feet tall and twenty feet in circumference. And over seven hundred years old. Older than the Declaration of Independence. Hell, older than Columbus. This tree was huge when Henry the Eighth took his first wife. It was old by the time Lincoln was writing the Emancipation Proclamation!”

  “Can you show me?”r />
  “Can I? Come on!”

  Ben rushed downstairs, following in Deirdre’s wake. He wondered if all dendrochronologists were this excitable. Certainly at the moment, she was not the traditional image of the cool, logical scientist. More like a high school senior who’d just been asked to the prom.

  Ben climbed into the back of the Jeep, squeezing in next to Maureen. “So,” he said, “is she excited?”

  Maureen winked. “I think you could say she’s excited.”

  Deirdre slid into the drivers seat and pushed the Jeep into first gear. “You have to understand,” she said as she zoomed down Main Street, taking the quickest route out of town and into the forest, “these trees have individuality. They’re like people—friends—and each one of them is different.”

  “So this one is like your great-great-grandfather?” Ben asked.

  Deirdre laughed. “More like my great great great great great great great great great grandfather. But he’s magnificent. I’ve never found anything like this before. Not in my entire career.”

  “How did you locate it?”

  “I’ve been searching systematically since I arrived. Several campers had made reports of huge old-growth trees, but their directions were never very precise. I had to do a lot of wandering around, following hunches, analyzing the growth patterns. It’s taken months.” Her grin spread from ear to ear. “But I found it! Last night, long past midnight, I found it. I could barely sleep! It’s huge—bigger than the recordholder in Forks.”

  They continued driving, taking the northbound path into the forest, then moving onto a northwest trail, plunging deep into the dense foliage, past the site of the murder, even past the site of the recent fire. Deirdre was taking them all the way, deep inside the forest.

  Ben had to wonder once more at the marvelous and beautiful diversity of the ancient forest. There was so much life here, he thought. So much variety. Even a city boy like himself could share in Deirdre’s excitement.