Conflict of Interest

by Mark Stone

I looked over at Justin, at his folded arms and his stern expression.

  “He believes you, too,” I said, looking back at Daphne.

  “I’m not sure what I believe,” Justin said, shaking his head bitterly. “I’ve been lied to so much.”

  “He doesn’t mean that,” I said, watching the anguish flood on Daphne’s face all over again. “He’s just angry. He doesn’t know what he’s saying right now.”

  “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, Rick,” Justin sneered at me. “You’re lucky I don’t break your damn jaw after what you’ve done.”

  Listening to those words leave Justin’s mouth was almost as bad as a broken jaw. This man was my best friend. He was the only person in my life who stood by me when the Turner case went sideways on me and I lost everything. He was the reason I was down here, for God’s sake. I couldn’t think of anything more painful than a man who I considered to be my brother threatening me like that. Except, maybe, the knowledge that there was a piece of me who thought I deserved it.

  “Justin, stop being an ass!” Daphne said, her voice shaking to the point that I almost couldn’t understand what she was saying. “He only did what I asked him to!”

  “Daphne,” Justin said, turning to his sister and pointing to the living room. “I need to talk to my friend in private.”

  “If you lay a finger on him, Justin,” Daphne started, her teary eyes darting toward me.

  “I’m not going to touch him, Daphne,” Justin said, swallowing hard and turning to me. “I don’t tussle with people I don’t think I can beat.”

  “I’m sure you could put up a better effort than you think,” I said, nodding at Daphne. “It’s okay. We’re not going to fight.”

  Daphne nodded at me and slowly walked out of the room. Something seemed almost wrong about all of this. She was the one who was about to be arrested on murder charges, and yet here she was tending to us when she had every right to be worried about herself. She probably would have been a great mother.

  “You’re wrong, Rick,” Justin said as soon as his sister was presumably out of earshot. “I might not be looking to punch you, but we are definitely going to fight.”

  “I get that,” I conceded, nodding solemnly at the man and stuffing my hands in my pockets. “Hell, I’d be worried about you if you weren’t mad at me.”

  “Mad doesn’t even start what I am with you,” he answered. “You’re my best friend in the whole damn world, Rick. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that your sister was in pain and I could make it better,” I answered, shaking my head.

  “Make it better?” Justin scoffed. “By putting her in a situation to be fingered on a murder charge.”

  “Of course, I’d have no way of knowing that was going to happen,” I said. “None of us could have.”

  “But you did know he was going to be there, right?” Justin asked. “You did know that you were facilitating a meeting with a man who, just the other day, had threatened my sister’s life in my front yard.”

  I took a deep breath, going over everything that had happened and my train of thought during every bit of it.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” I admitted. “She was hurting, hurting more than anyone I had ever seen, and she’s your sister. What was I supposed to do?”

  “You were supposed to come to me!” Justin said, screaming so loudly that the windows seemed to shake. “You were supposed to bring this issue, an issue that involves me deeply, to me, Rick. Because that’s what I’d have done for you.”

  “Then you’d have been wrong,” I said, blinking at my friend. “I love you, Justin. I love you like a brother, and this certainly does involve you, but none of this was your decision.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”’ Justin asked, his body nearly rattling with fury. “My sister comes to you, telling you that she had a secret baby eighteen years ago, and you didn’t think to say anything to me about it?”

  “Of course, I did,” I balked. “But she had already covered all of this in the blanket of attorney/client privilege by the time I learned that. You think I didn’t want to tell you that you have a nephew? I wanted that, Justin. But it wouldn’t have been ethical.”

  “None of this is ethical!” Justin shouted at me. “You should have taken this to the district attorney the minute you got it.”

  “She wouldn’t have cooperated,” I said.

  “Then you should have convinced her to cooperate,” Justin said. “You should have told me and let me convince her.”

  “Again, it was under the blanket of-”

  “Don’t you dare bring privilege up to me again, Rick!” Justin yelled, throwing an accusing finger in my direction. “Do you have any idea what your actions have caused? My sister is going to be charged with First Degree Murder. I just talked to Dillon Storm. He’s on his way here right now, and there’s nothing I can do to help her. I can’t even represent her in this. No judge in his right mind is going to let me fight this case. It would be the most epic case of conflict of interest that anyone has ever seen.”

  “Then let me do it,” I said. “I’m already technically her lawyer, and we both know I have a decent enough track record with murder cases here.” I placed a hand on his shoulder, which was a risk, given how angry he was at me right now. “Plus, the price is definitely right, my friend.”

  “I don’t give a damn about the cost,” Justin answered, though he didn’t pull my arm from his shoulder.

  “I know that,” I answered. “I was just-”

  “I know what you were doing,” he replied. “And I suppose my sister could do worse than an expertly trained and highly effective lawyer who will fight for her like his life depends on it.” He leveled a stare at me. “Because it does, Rick.”

  “I get it,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I want to do this for you. I want to do it for your sister. You’re angry right now, but you know your sister doesn’t have it in her to do this.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure what I know anymore,” he answered. “But it’s not my choice, is it?” He looked up at me. “If my sister trusted you with a secret she’s never even told me, then I’d have to imagine she’ll trust you with this too.” He swallowed hard. “Get it done.” He nodded at me, and as I started toward the living room where Daphne was located, he grabbed my arm. “Don’t think this squares everything with us,” he said, huffing at me. “It doesn’t.”

  “I know,” I said, pulling my arm from his grip, and heading into the next room to do my job.

  Chapter 12

  By the time Dillon Storm walked into the room, ready to do his job and arrest Daphne on Firs Degree Murder charges, I had done my job and instructed her to keep her mouth shut until I had the chance to get down there to her. She wouldn’t have to hold her tongue for long. I would be following her directly. That was the good thing about having a client before they were actually charged. I didn’t have to worry about coming into this thing after they had mucked everything up. I could get a handle on this from the beginning.

  “Ms. Knight,” Dillon said, shooting me a look and nodding. “I think you know why I’m here.”

  “I do,” Daphne said, standing from the couch she had been sitting on, wiping tears from her cheeks, and holding her hands together and out, as if to offer them for the cuffs Dillon was undoubtedly about to slap on her.

  “I’m afraid it’ll have to be behind your back, ma’am,” he said almost solemnly.

  “Is that really necessary, Dillon?” I asked, shaking my head at a man who I was dangerously close to calling a friend.

  “It’s standard practice for this kind of thing, Rick,” he answered without looking at me. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate you allowing me to do my job.”

  “Not much of a job today, is it?” I asked, looking at the man and seeing the weight of what he was about to do, Justin was his friend too. Hauling his sister into custody couldn’t have been easy for him. Still, Dillon was a grown man, and h
e knew right from wrong. I knew Daphne couldn’t have been responsible for this, but proving that was my job. Starting the wheels of justice in motion, that was up to Dillon.

  “It’s not my favorite,” he admitted, almost under his breath as Daphne placed her hands together behind her back.

  “You be careful with her,” I said, my jaw tensing up as I watched Dillon place the cuffs around Daphne’s wrists. I shuddered a little as I heard them clink into place; the first sign of an incarceration that had the possibility of lasting the rest of her life.

  “I’m never rough unless I need to be, Rick,” Dillon said. “I don’t take any pleasure in this.”

  “I know,” I said, taking a deep breath.

  Once Dillon was finished reading Daphne her Miranda Rights, I stepped in front of him, placing a hand on Daphne’s shoulder. “Remember what I said, Daphne. Not a word until I get there. Not a single syllable until I’m sitting beside you. If they ask you if you want a cup of water, I want you to nod your response. Do you understand?”

  “Enough, Rick!” Dillon yelled, giving me a withering stare. “I might not take any joy in this, but it’s my job. And I’m not about to let you walk all over procedure. Your client has been informed of her rights. That’s quite enough.”

  I looked at Daphne again blinking as she nodded at me, letting me know she understood what I was saying and that she agreed to do what I said.

  My eyes then moved up to Dillon. “Not quite a fishing trip, is it?”

  Not today,” Dillon said. “But that doesn’t mean it won’t come again.”

  The man took a deep breath and pushed through the door. Justin was standing in the living room, his eyes puffy and red-rimmed.

  “I need to hug her,” Justin said, his voice shaky and his arms trembling.

  Dillon sighed again. “Justin, I-”

  “Dil, please!” the man said, pain as evident in his voice as I ever heard it.

  “Be quick,” Dillon said, taking a step back. “And be careful of the cuffs. Pressing against them will make them tighter.”

  Justin collided with his sister, hugging her tightly. “I was wrong. I believe you,” he said, tears rolling down his face. “I believe you, Daphne.”

  “It’s okay, little brother,” she said, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek before Dillon Storm pulled her away. “It’ll all be okay. I promise.”

  As she passed through the door, the beauty of what I had just witnessed passed through me. Here she was, facing the darkest time of her life, and she was spending her time making sure Justin was okay. She might not have actually raised her own son, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a mother.

  The front door closed hard, pulling me back into the darkness of the moment.

  Justin turned to me, his face a mask of agony. “Swear to me,” he said weakly. “Swear to me that you’ll fix it, Rick.”

  I walked toward my friend and boss, placing a hand on his shoulder. “On my life,” I said. “I swear it. I will make this right.”

  Chapter 13

  We were the first case on the docket that morning, which given the fact that we were going before Judge Megan Shames, was a good thing. In my time in Naples, I had gotten to know a thing or two about the judges in the city. As a lawyer, that’s just one of the things you do. You get the lay of the land, sort of like an athlete scouting out a foreign field before facing off against a particularly tough opponent. Here, Laura Sky and the State of Florida was my opponent, and Megan Shames was the field.

  Luckily, I had done my homework. As it turned out, the Honorable Judge Shames was something of a morning person. You put a cup of coffee in her hand and a view of the sunrise, and she was a happy camper. There were people who would think things like that didn’t matter, that the only thing that pertained to the way a case was going to go was the facts. I called those people bad lawyers.

  In truth, any number of things could affect the outcome of a case, including the demeanor of a judge. In fact, the difference in Judge Shames’ disposition as the day wore on was so great, that a little rough math told me she was a full 30 percent more likely to rule in my favor if I got her before the sun began to travel too far across the gorgeous Florida sky.

  So, when we were scheduled for last week at 4:45 pm, I knew I had to do something about it. Faking a stomach ailment might not have been my shining moment, but it bumped me here, to the morning. And, when I was dealing with a client as important as Daphne Knight, I needed all the advantages I could get.

  “Your Honor, the people are asking for bail to be set at $500,000,” Laura Sky said, her voice calm and collected, the way it should have been.

  “That’s crazy,” I said in response, my voice high and overly dramatic, the way it should have been. We were both playing a game, both partners in a dance. She was playing her part. Now, it was time for me to play mine. “Ms. Knight has no prior charges, and she has roots in the community. Her brother is a respected attorney here. The idea that-”

  “Respected is a stretch,” Laura Sky cut me off.

  “Seriously?” I balked, turning back to her.

  “I’m just saying, Justin Knight isn’t exactly Ruth Bader Ginsberg, and even if he was, his sister hadn’t seen him in years before this event. The prosecution will even state that the only reason Daphne Knight came to visit her brother was an attempt to get close to her victim.”

  “That’s preposterous!” I said, letting my voice reach even higher levels of outrage. “Justin Knight and his relationship with his sister is not what this trial is about.”

  “And yet, you seem to think it’s relevant enough to use it as leverage to con the judge into setting a ridiculously low bail amount,” Laura answered, still cool, still calm, still playing he part.

  “Are the two of you done yet?” Judge Shames asked, almost chirpily as she sipped from her coffee. “I’m just wondering when you expect me to stand up and applaud this performance.”

  I blinked hard. “Your Honor,” I started. “Daphne Knight is a victim in all of this. She was coerced and manipulated by a man into unknowingly giving up the only child she’s ever had.”

  “Coincidentally, it’s the same man whose body is laying in the morgue right now,” Laura answered.

  “Save it for the trial, guys,” Judge Shames said. “This is about bail, and theatrics aside, I don’t see much that tells me Ms. Knight here will be a threat on the outside.”

  “Judge Shames, Laura answered, looking honestly shocked. “She killed a doctor in cold blood.”

  “Allegedly,” I cut in. “That, too, is for trial. Unless, of course, Ms. Sky has decided it’s in our best interest to throw out the rule of law altogether and just declare someone guilty before they’ve been tried.”

  “You know,” Judge Shames said, taking another drink of her coffee. “My daughter and I binge watched a show on Netflix last weekend. She’s sixteen, so it was one of those flowery, soap-opera type high school shows. You know, the kind where everything is the end of the world, and the acting is subpar, but you kind of forgive it because the actors are kids and they’re doing the best they can.” She leaned forward in her chair. “You’re not kids, guys. I’m not going to cut you any slack, and I sure as hell am not going to stand for any more of this subpar, soap-opera acting in my courtroom.” She turned to Laura. “You say she killed this doctor in cold blood because he stole her kid, right?”

  “Partly,” Laura said, a bit uneasily. “In truth, we believe there are several mitigating factors that led to-”

  “More flowery nonsense,” Judge Shames said, shaking her head. “She killed him because he took her son.”

  “Allegedly,” I interjected again.

  “Of course,” Judge Shames said. “We wouldn’t want the rule of law thrown out on my account. The point is, this woman doesn’t have any priors, nothing to lead me to believe that, if she did this, it was anything that would be in danger of being repeated. Her son was already taken, the man who did it is dead, and she doesn’t ha
ve any other kids to avenge. Assuming this woman is as guilty as sin, which I can’t do because- as Mr. Archer has pointed out a few times now-we’re all innocent until proven otherwise, I see no reason to refuse her bail, either by outright denying it or by setting it at a ridiculously high amount.” She banged her gavel against the bench. “Bale is set at $100,000. I’ll see the both of you at trial. And Mr. Archer,” she said, taking one last sip of coffee. “I do hope your stomach issues have cleared up. You won’t be getting anymore rescheduling from me, afternoon or not.”

  Then she smiled and sent us on our way.

  Chapter 14

  “You don’t seem to be in the celebrating mood,” Charlotte observed as she slid a beer I didn’t ask for but certainly wouldn’t refuse across the bar of Rocco’s and smiled at me. She was a sweet woman, the kind any guy would be lucky to settle down with. I wasn’t exactly looking to settle down right now, and even if I was, Justin had very nearly married Charlotte, and I was in deep enough trouble with him already. So, while she was a kind, sweet, and beautiful person, she was better off as a friend.

  “I didn’t know there was reason to celebrate,” I admitted, grabbing the beer and letting the coolness of it resonate through my palm.

  “From what I hear, you did pretty good at your bail hearing,” she answered. “And, if keeping Justin’s sister out of jail isn’t worth a free drink, then I don’t know what is.”

  “I’ve only kept her out of jail for the time being,” I answered.

  “The time being is all any of us have,” she replied in a calm voice that soothed me a little. “You’ve got to be grateful for what you have.”

  I looked at her, forcing a smile across my face. That sort of zen, the perspective that Florida seemed to give everyone who lived in it for long enough, was something I envied. The idea of cherishing this, of looking at what happened to Daphne and seeing it as anything other than one tragedy compiled on top of another, was insane to me. There was still so much work to do. As Robert Frost would say, I had miles to go before I could sleep. Of course, people here didn’t seem to worried about what Robert Frost might think. Down here, where the sun always shone and the only thing more beautiful than the scenery was the people enjoying it, they all lived for the moment. Paradise was literally underfoot, and it would take a real stick in the mud not to enjoy it.