Conflict of Interest

by Mark Stone

  The woman answered, and though her voice sounded a bit strained, I pushed on. “Hope, I need to ask you a question.”

  “Good,” she said. “I’m glad you called. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”

  “You know my signal’s no good inside the police department,” I answered. “I was wondering about those burner phones. There’s no way you could send a picture from one of them while also on the phone, right?”

  “Sure,” she said. “You’d just have to be connected to wifi. But, Rick, I need you to-”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” I said. “And, if I’m not mistaken, those pictures hold metadata, including IP addresses. If you could get ahold of one of them, you could theoretically trace where it was coming from?”

  “Theoretically,” Hope answered. “But I-”

  “Good,” I said. “Then that’s what I need you to do. The police are processing Mike’s phone right now, but when they’re done, I’m going to bring it to you. He says there’s a call and a picture on it. I need you to trace the origin of the picture.”

  “Would you just shut up for a second?” Hope asked, basically screaming at me through the phone. “You can’t stay there and wait on a damn phone, Rick. That’s what I was trying to tell you. Daphne is here. It’s about the plea deal Laura Sky offered her. She says she wants to take it.”

  Chapter 31

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, bursting into Justin’s kitchen like a bull rampaging through a china shop. Daphne was sitting at the table in the kitchen, the same kitchen where all of this started for me. That seemed like a lifetime ago, when Daphne told me about what happened with her baby. I could have never imagined how all of this would go at that moment, but I could say for sure right now that it would not end with her taking some ridiculous deal.

  Justin stood to meet me, motioning for me to head back out into the living room. “Stay there,” he said to his sister, tapping the kitchen table with his knuckles.

  I turned around and headed back out into the living room with Justin behind me. Once we were out of earshot of the woman, my friend started talking.

  “Did you talk to the boy?” he asked flatly. He was careful not to make eye contact with me.

  “Mike? Of course, I talked to him. I’m not sure bail is going to be a possibility, given the fact that he had still yet to stand trial for the drug charge, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  “I’m not interested in you crossing a bridge,” Jason said. “I need you to drop him as a client.”

  “What?” I asked. “Why?”

  “Why?” Justin balked. “Are you seriously asking me that question right now? Because he’s a killer. He killed that woman in front of you, and he more than likely killed Dr. Trapp, too. I know he’s my blood. I know that, but he’s obviously got some very dark demons wrestling inside of him. If we’re going to-”

  “Did you say Samantha Reagan is dead?” I asked, my throat tightening.

  Justin blinked at me, obviously having been pulled out of his train of thought.

  “Yes,” he answered solemnly. “We got the call a few minutes ago. It’s tragic, but it doesn’t change where we are right now. Mike obviously did this, and my sister is chomping at the bit to take the fall for him. If we can’t convince her not to do that, and I’m not sure we can, then we need to convince Laura Sky and Ethan Sands that she’s not telling the truth. We need to paint a realistic picture of the truth that they can’t deny.” Justin shook his head. “They might not want to admit they were this wrong about this one, but they’ll hate the idea of letting the actual murderer go free even more.”

  “Except that I’m not sure Mike is the actual murderer,” I said. “Look. I talked to him.”

  “And he gave you some bull story, I’m sure,” Justin answered. “I understand that you feel responsible for all of this, and you want to make sure everyone gets a happy ending here, but that’s not how this one is going to play out. What happened to my sister was horrible. What happened to her son was even more horrible, but that was eighteen years ago. We can’t change that. All we can do is live in the world as it is, and that means making sure my sister doesn’t throw herself down a pit to save a boy who doesn’t deserve it.”

  “Justin,” I said calmly. “If you would just-”

  “Justice, Rick,” Justin said. “We swore an oath to it, and we have to stand by that oath.”

  “He wasn’t in the car when the shots were fired,” I said quickly. “Hope got Mike’s phone from the police department, and the location services prove he wasn’t anywhere near Samantha Reagan’s house when she was shot.”

  “And how many times have you seen people toss their phone in a drawer and go about their business just so they can have exactly that alibi. That’ll never hold up in court,” Justin answered.

  “It doesn’t have to, because there’s more. Mike claimed to have gotten a call from a strange number. Going through his phone, Hope can attest to that. He also received a picture of your sister from the person on the other end of the line. they threatened to kill her if he didn’t drive around in the car. They were setting him up.”

  “And you can prove this?” Justin asked.

  “Almost,” I answered. “Hope is working toward finding an IP address for the picture. If she can do that, then we can hopefully pinpoint where the picture was sent from.”

  “If? Hopefully?” Justin asked, shaking his head. “We don’t have time for those things. Daphne will take this deal if we don’t give her a reason not to. She’ll probably admit to shooting Samantha, too. She’ll fire us and spend the rest of her life in prison if she thinks it’ll save Mike.” Justin shook his head. “I’m sorry. We’re going to have to go with Mike as the prime suspect. It’s what makes the most sense.”

  “He’s your nephew,” I said in a low tone.

  “And she’s my sister, and I know she’s innocent,” he answered.

  “And I know he’s innocent,” I replied.

  “You don’t,” Justin said, shaking his head. “You can think that, but you don’t know it. The truth is, we don’t know what kind of life he had, and we have no idea what that boy is capable of.”

  “You said justice to me,” I reminded my friend and boss. “You held it up like it was a torch. You told me we swore to uphold it. That’s what I have to do.”

  “Rick,” Justin started in a warning tone.

  “No,” I replied harshly. “These aren’t your clients, either of you. You don’t get a say in how they’re represented. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. I’m going to do what I think is right, and if that means you need to fire me, I understand.”

  As the words left my mouth, my phone rang. It was Hope. Answering it, I said, “Please tell me you’ve got something.”

  “As always, I’ve got everything,” she answered, and I could practically hear her smiling. “You were right. The picture was traceable, and I traced it back to a hotel near the beach. It’s called the Manderlay.”

  My entire body tightened as things clicked into place. “Hope,” I said. “Stand by. We’re not finished. I’m going to need you to do some digging.”

  “Roger that,” she said, hanging up.

  “Justin, I changed my mind,” I said.

  “What?” he asked.

  “It’s not okay if you fire me,” I said. “In fact, after this, you’re going to want to give me a promotion.” I smiled. “Tell your sister not to worry. I’ve got a plan.”

  Chapter 32

  I sat in a room with glass walls and a long rectangular table. Laura Sky sat across from me. It had honestly been easier to get her here than I thought. All I had to do was lay out all the evidence I had on the table and make my case. She was interested, which struck me as more than a little odd. Back in Chicago, things were all about the numbers. Conviction rates, acquittal rates, the amount of money the state had already put into the investigation and trial; all of those were on everyone’s minds when
dealing with each other.

  For her part, Laura seemed much more interested in getting to the truth, even if it was different than what she thought it was.

  “You sure she’s coming?” Laura asked, shooting blue eyes in my direction as the blunt end of her pen danced between her lips.

  “Oh, she’s coming,” I answered. “And, when she does, I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Dillon Storm sat in another seat beside me, and Justin sat beside him. All of them had their parts to play here. Justin was here as my council, and DIllon was here in case things got too sticky. It was nice of all of them to come, especially considering the fact that-just hours ago- none of them believed what I was telling them. Luckily for me, I had a folder Hope had compiled in addition to all of this. With any luck, that would be enough.

  Fallon O’Keefe strode through the door in a pair of heels that made her at least a foot taller. She looked around the room, her body tensing as she took us all in.

  “You lied to me, Rick,” she said, narrowing her eyes in my direction. “You told me you changed your mind. You said this was an interview.”

  “It is,” I answered. “It’s just not the one you were hoping for.” I winked at the woman. “And I’m not the subject of it.”

  “What is the meaning of this, then?” Fallon asked. “I’d say you wanted to sue me, like you threatened to do back in the news building, but that wouldn’t make any sense, would it?” She pointed. “That’s Laura Sky. She’s an ADA, and she wouldn’t have anything to do with civil cases.”

  “I suggest you sit down, ma’am,” Laura said, motioning to an empty seat at the head of the table.

  “Am I under arrest?” Fallon asked. “Is that why the guy with the badge is here too? Because, if so, I’ll have you know that I’ve done nothing illegal. Freedom of Speech is a tenant of the American Constitution. It’s what our country was built on. And trying to silence me would be simply unamerican. I’d have to think my millions of listeners would agree with that.” Now it was Fallon’s turn to wink at me. “You’re not the only one who can throw their weight around, Rick.”

  “What about murder, Fallon?” I asked in response. “Is that protected by the Constitution too? You think your legion of fans would blindly support the cold-blooded killings of two people? Because I, for one, believe that an audience who you believe would rip me apart for defending a killer would be even more ravenous with an actual killer.” I shook my head. “And that’s what you are, Fallon. You’re a killer.”

  Fallon blinked hard, taking a step back toward the door.

  “You’re not under arrest,” Laura said, holding her hand out. “But I can’t say that won’t change very soon. If I were you, and I had my own best interests at heart, then I would stay put. I promise, it’ll be easier for you this way.”

  “I’m not sure what he told you,” Fallon said, pointing to me. “But he’s just trying to shut me up. He’s trying to silence me, and he’ll go to any lengths to do it.”

  “I didn’t know you were adopted,” I said, opening the folder and sliding a family picture of Fallon and her folks toward her. “But, then again, neither did you. Isn’t that right?”

  “What are you talking about?” Fallon asked, her jaw tightening.

  “Don’t play dumb. You know what I’m talking about,” I said. “You had no idea about the truth of where you came from until the night your parents got into a car accident. You rushed to the hospital, but you couldn’t donate blood to either of them. So, you did some digging, like you do, and you found out the truth. You were sold to them, Fallon. You were one of Dr. Trapp’s babies, and you had been stolen from your birth parents.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Fallon answered. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with being adopted, and there’s nothing illegal about your parents keeping it from you.”

  “You weren’t adopted. You were taken,” Justin said from beside me. “Just like my nephew was taken.”

  “You see, when I found out that Mike wasn’t the only baby taken, I made the mistake of assuming that he was the first. I was wrong. This was an enterprise that went on for years before Dr. Trapp decided to take a child for himself. It was a horrible thing, and when you found out about it, you decided to do horrible things in return. You decided to take your vengeance.”

  “You’re wrong!” Fallon yelled.

  “I’m not,” I answered. “You found Samantha Reagan. You told her what really happened, and then you paid her to get the names of all the people involved, of all the men and women who had stolen babies they knew didn't’ belong to them. You wanted to make them pay, too. But you wanted more than that. It couldn’t be random. It would have to be tied back to Dr. Trapp, the man responsible for all of this.”

  I pulled another photo out, the one of Dr. Trapp in front of the car. “You told him you knew what he did, and you blackmailed him into buying that car. Then you went around Miami, where most of the people who had stolen the children lived, and started running them down. You thought it would be traced back to Dr. Trapp, but you didn’t take his connections into consideration. You didn’t know it wouldn’t touch him. When you found that out, you decided to strike closer to home. You went after his own son. You thought, if you couldn’t destroy him, you’d get to him through his son.”

  “You’re making all of this up!” Fallon said.

  “Am I?” I asked. “Or will a search of your belongings find the burner phone that called Dr. Trapp and Mike? Will an extensive search of that blue car come up with some of your DNA, and will we find residue of gunpowder on your fingertips? It’s only be a little while since Samantha was shot, after all.”

  I shook my head as Fallon stood silent.

  “You went to him after Daphne left. She was the perfect alibi. You must have been watching their exchange. You must have known that Mike was her son, and you realized you could kill him now. You could murder him and everyone would think Daphne did it!”

  “I didn’t want to murder him!” Fallon yelled, snapping. “I wanted him to suffer! And I would never frame a woman who has gone through what that woman went through for murder! And, as far as her son goes, I would have been doing her a favor. Mike might have been hers, but he was raised by that monster. I have no doubt he’d have turned out just as bad” Tears streamed down her face. “I was about to make sure Mike was arrested for drug dealing. I was going to make sure it happened in that car and that all the hit and runs in Miami would finally be traced back in a way he couldn’t get around. I was going to lower the boom on that sonofabitch doctor, but I wanted him to know why. I wanted him to know I was doing it, and that his chickens had finally come home to roost. I wanted him to know all of this was happening because of him, because of what he did.”

  “Then why did you kill him?” I asked, looking at Dillon Storm and standing.

  “Because he was going to kill me!” she yelled. “I had to fight back. That bastard had already had so much power over my life. I wasn’t about to let him end it too!”

  “So, it was an accident,” I said, looking as DIllon Storm moved closer.

  “It changed everything,” Fallon said. “Once he was dead, I knew the police would think Daphne did it. I couldn’t let her suffer for this. So, I decided to pin it on the boy, on the kid the devil raised.”

  “Mike,” I said.

  “I knew if I garnered a reputation for him as a drug dealer and then had him found in the car the police would have no choice but to put it all together. They’d toss him in jail without so much as blinking twice.” She shook her head. ‘But you didn’t.”

  “Why me?” I asked. ‘That’s what I don’t understand. Why come up with the whole podcast thing about me?”

  “Because I needed an excuse to be here,” she said. “And my podcast is called ‘Blunder’ after all. I couldn’t think of a bigger blunder than you.”

  “I can think of one,” Laura said, standing herself. “Maybe your new season can focus on yourself, assuming they allow
you to do that sort of thing in prison.”

  “I’m not going to prison!” Fallon yelled. She turned to me. “You say I hated you, and I do. It’s people like you who make people like Stephen Trapp possible. it’s people like you who allow good people to be killed by trash like Edward Turner. You said I wanted vengeance, but that couldn't be further from the truth. What I want, what I deserve, is justice.”

  The word tore through my eardrums and beat around against the side of my skull. I had spoken to Justin about justice, about what it looked like to us. I couldn’t imagine it held any similarities to whatever misguided attempt at the virtue Fallon was fostering right about now.

  “I made a mistake,” I admitted. “Edward Turner was a monster, and I knew he was probably guilty for what he had done. But I wasn’t responsible for what he did. I didn’t cause it, and I sure as hell didn’t perpetrate it. You did, Fallon. You took a monstrous thing in your past and allowed it to turn you into a killer.” I shook my head. “I’d almost pity you if I wasn’t so disgusted.”

  The woman’s jaw set. “Go to hell, RIck Archer!”

  With wide eyes, I watched her pull what I soon saw to be a gun out of her purse.

  Dillon darted into action, grabbing at the gun at his own side. I heard shots first, though, and leapt toward Laura. Colliding with her, we both fell to the floor. She landed with a thud with me on top of her. Looking down at those blue eyes, I muttered, “Are you okay?”

  Feeling her breath against my cheek, she answered, “I think so.”

  Hearing a collision, I looked up to find Fallon on the ground. Her gun was laying across the room and Dillon Storm stood over her, his own firearm pointed at her chest.

  “You’re under arrest,” he said.

  I grinned just a little, and muttered, “Damn straight.” Looking down at Laura, I grinned. “Still,” I said, swallowing hard and becoming very aware that she was under me, our bodies closer than they had ever been. “We should probably stay down here for awhile. Just like this. You know,” I grinned. “Just to be on the safe side.”