Conscious Bias

by Alexi Venice

  “My grandfather would be so heartbroken,” Monica said. “The truck was in mint condition the entire time he owned it.”

  “Don’t worry. They’ll match the colors. You won’t be able to tell the difference.” He squatted down and peered under the body. “Your drive train still looks good.”

  “Thank you for checking.”

  He straightened, automatically glancing around the parking lot.

  “Thanks for offering to sleep at my house. I didn’t realize how shaken I was,” she said.

  “It might take a few days to come down from an experience like that,” he said.

  “You’re very kind,” she said.

  “I’ll text you after my shift.”

  She opened the driver’s door but didn’t get in. “I think I know why they ran me off the road.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I told Charles Smart that Dave McKnight tried to bribe Al Bowman into changing the physicians’ testimony.”

  Matt’s eyebrows shot up.

  “True fact, but Al saw it coming from a mile away. He obviously turned down McKnight’s offer.”

  “Did you tell Dominique about this?”

  “No. Al asked me not to. Al doesn’t want to file charges or pick a fight with McKnight.”

  “That’s too bad.” Matt rubbed his chin and scanned the parking lot.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” she said. “I’m only telling you because it all fits with a motive.”

  “More info helps,” he said. “I think you’re right.”

  “Okay. I should get going. Thanks for your help.”

  “Anytime.”

  She closed the door and started the engine.

  He tapped the roof of the cab, and she drove off.

  She barely made it out of the parking lot when her phone rang. It was Jim Daniels.

  “Hi, Jim.”

  “I heard the case went to the jury,” he said.

  “Seriously? That happened like, 10 minutes ago. Your intel is impressive.”

  “My intel would make your head spin.”

  “Were you at the trial?”

  “Haha. Nope. Listen, you, Nathan and I need to get together to go over a few details for the new firm. We can both do it now if you have time.”

  “Awesome! You two are talking shop. Did he formally notify Christina that he isn’t joining her?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t wait to talk,” she said. “Can we get something to eat too? I’m starving.”

  “How about The Spoke in 15 minutes?” he asked.

  “See you there.”

  On her way, she called Al at the hospital and updated him on the status of the trial.

  “Sounds like a typical renegade Dr. King move,” Al said between clenched teeth.

  “So, you’re not surprised?”

  “Not in the least. I should’ve predicted that would happen. I only hope the Seifs aren’t pissed at the hospital because of his testimony.”

  “Mike and I tried to smooth it over during our breaks. I told them that not everyone in our community feels the same as Dr. King and the McKnights.”

  “Thank you for being our ambassador during this ordeal.” He sighed, and she could feel his stress.

  “My pleasure. That reminds me of something. Mr. Seif said he had some unfinished business with the hospital. Has he contacted you?”

  “No,” Al said. “What do you suppose it is?”

  “I have no idea, but I asked Mike to text me as soon as he learns,” she said.

  “Let me know what you find out.”

  “Will do. How is everything else?”

  “We need to talk when the trial is over. I have some other things for you.”

  “Be happy to help. Call you tomorrow?”

  “Terrific. Have a good night.”

  “You too.”

  Ten minutes later, she walked into the all-too familiar milieu of The Spoke and spotted Jim and Nathan at a high top in the bar. They slid off their stools to greet her.

  “Hey,” Nathan said. “You look serious.”

  “I’ve been sitting in a murder trial, and a black truck drove me off the road today after lunch.”

  “What?” Nathan and Jim asked simultaneously.

  “True fact. Mike, Matt and I think the McKnights hired someone to scare me away.”

  “That’s a serious allegation,” Jim said.

  “He forced me off the road, and I spun down a hill. It was intentional, trust me. You should see the driver’s side of my truck.”

  “Were you hurt?” Jim asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

  “No, but I was pretty rattled. Fortunately, the Seifs were right behind me and came to my aid. Then Matt showed up.”

  “My Matt?” Nathan asked.

  “The one and only. I filed a report with him.”

  “What a nightmare,” Nathan said, “but whoever is trying to scare you, their timing is off. Your physicians already testified.”

  “McKnight could’ve done it out of revenge,” she said. “They left a note on my windshield to tell the physicians that they needed to testify that Abdul fell down drunk. I didn’t, of course. And, I yelled at Charles this morning that McKnight tried to bribe Al Bowman with a million dollars. I think Charles probably told McKnight, and, voilà, an hour later a guy drives me off the road.”

  “Holy fuck!” Nathan said.

  “Did you tell Dominique?” Jim asked.

  “Only that a truck ran me off the road. I didn’t tell her about McKnight trying to bribe Al because he doesn’t want to press charges. Plus, she has her own issues. Trevor tried to attack her during a break today, which got him tased.”

  “You have to be kidding me!” Nathan said.

  “No joke. It looked very painful,” she said.

  “Do you feel safe at home?” Jim asked, refocusing on Monica. “You can stay at my place for a few days if you want.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but Matt is going to stay at my place tonight,” she said.

  “My Matt?” Nathan asked.

  She smiled. “He’s the only Matt I know.”

  “That’s going above and beyond,” Jim said.

  “He’s been very kind throughout this ordeal,” she said.

  “Good to hear. I hope he finds who did this to you,” Nathan said.

  “I won’t hold my breath,” she said. “That guy is probably long gone.”

  “You’re probably right,” Jim said. “How do you think the trial went?”

  “I think Dominique did an outstanding job,” Monica said. “Unfortunately, she had a very drunk victim and limited security cam footage. Halliday is a formidable opponent and effectively leveraged Abdul’s drunkenness, Trevor’s fabricated fact about Abdul swinging first, and some specious medical theories.”

  “How did Dominique react to all of that?” Jim asked.

  “She combatted Halliday’s showmanship with her brand of understatement and grace. Personally, I prefer her style, especially for this community. And, she’s deadly on cross-examinations.”

  He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “That—she is.”

  The server came, and Monica ordered a draught Oktoberfest.

  “How did our physicians fare?” Jim asked.

  “Drs. Khouri and Rice did an excellent job. Dr. King showed up for the defense and made an ass out of himself—in my opinion anyway.”

  “He and McKnight go way back,” Jim said. “I’ve seen them golfing together at the club for years.”

  “Dominique pointed that out on cross. I’m not sure if the jurors cared though.” How did Dominique know they golfed together? Monica wondered, but the fleeting thought passed.

  “They might not,” Jim said. “In fact, they might view Dr. King’s support as influential. If the good doctor supports the McKnight family, then the jurors might think they should too. That’s what Halliday is betting on.”

  “I’d hate to see a biased verdict,” she said.

  �
��Maybe the jury isn’t biased,” Jim said. “Maybe they’re just scared of the McKnight family. The jurors’ names are public, you know.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Nathan said. “Jurors shouldn’t arrive at verdicts based on fear of the defendant. Our system would crumble.”

  Jim held up his hands. “I’m just saying—McKnight Construction employs a lot of people in town and creates business opportunities for a whole lot more. Is this about bias or about supporting one of our own businesses in town? The jurors may not see the difference.”

  Monica expelled a puff of audible disagreement.

  “As you get older,” Jim said, “you’ll realize that there’s an organic quality to juries that lawyers and judges can’t change. We can advocate for our clients, and even agree amongst ourselves on what the outcome should be, but juries reflect the prevailing sentiment of the local culture. Stress local. These jurors aren’t rich, sophisticated world travelers. Their collective bias might be nothing more than accepting the story of a local kid over that of a stranger.” He shrugged and sipped his drink. “Unfortunately, we haven’t found a better system. Having said that, there are other types of justice outside the courtroom that sometimes compensate for a renegade jury verdict.”

  “What are you talking about?” Nathan asked.

  “Just watch and learn,” he said.

  “Do you mean vigilante justice?” Nathan asked.

  “Not necessarily.” Jim waved his hand over his drink. “Society has a way of dealing with misguided—if not unjust—outcomes.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Nathan said.

  “You will if you work your entire career as a trial attorney,” Jim said. “Change of subject: Ready to talk law firm business?”

  “Sure,” Monica said, as the server delivered her beer.

  “Here’s to Spade, Daniels & Taylor,” Jim said.

  They clinked and drank.

  “I’m so happy you’re joining us, Nathan,” Monica said.

  “It’s been a psycho week,” he said, “one minute telling my clients I was moving to the Fox Law Offices, the next minute telling them I’m a named partner in a new firm, but it’s all worth it.”

  “I can’t believe we’re going to be partners!” Monica beamed.

  “We’re gonna kick ass,” Nathan said.

  “Here’s to kicking ass,” Jim repeated, and they all drank.

  “Here’s to crossing the rutabaga,” Monica said, hoisting her glass.

  Jim squinted then recognized what she was trying to say, crinkling his eyes in amusement.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Nathan asked.

  “It’s one of Jim’s sayings,” she said. “Julius Caesar fed rutabagas to his army in 50 B.C.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Jim said, playing along.

  “Never heard that before.” Nathan inclined his head then drank.

  “Now, before you claim that I got you drunk and made you sign on the dotted line,” Jim said, “Let’s review the partnership agreement together.”

  He removed a satchel from the back of his chair and opened it. His large paws grabbed a stack of papers from within and plopped them on the table. “Here are two copies of the agreement, one for each of you. I own 51%, as controlling partner, and you each own 24.5%, giving you an equal say. However, even if you gang up on me, you still can’t outvote me.”

  Nathan’s eyebrows shot up. “Why are you controlling partner?”

  “Because I’m investing $100,000, and you’re each investing $20,000, that’s why.”

  “Does it take that much to start the practice?” Monica asked.

  “That’s a drop in the bucket,” Jim said. “Wait till we start hiring people. Your first priority will be sending monthly bills to your clients, so we keep the cash flow going.”

  “Got it.” Nathan drained half his drink, the reality of legal business suddenly hitting him.

  “Can I take a day to review the partnership agreement?” Monica asked. “I could return it to you tomorrow.”

  “I’d think less of you if you didn’t,” Jim said. “There’s a copy for each of you. Also included in the packet is your loan agreement.”

  As Monica thumbed through the packet, she was suddenly startled by a warm, distinctly female, arm curling through her own. She glanced right to see the object of her desires looking deliriously gorgeous—and only inches from her face. Monica’s world came to a screeching halt, her heart skipping several beats before racing to life like a sports car.

  “Fancy seeing you here again, Ms. Spade,” Shelby drawled, her warm Chardonnay-laced breath on Monica’s cheek. “Looks like you’re conducting some serious legal business.” She batted her eyelashes, capturing not only Monica’s heart but also Jim and Nathan’s attention.

  “Hi, Beautiful,” Monica said, going out and proud. If she was starting a firm with her name on the marquee, then it was going to reflect who she really was. Like she could control what fell out of her mouth when she was this close to Shelby anyway. At the moment, she was struggling to remember how to breathe.

  “Hey, Shelby,” Nathan said. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  “Thank you, you flirt,” Shelby said.

  Monica was thrilled that Shelby kept her arm looped through Monica’s. Since Monica was sitting on a stool, she was at the perfect height for Shelby to stand intertwined and close. Monica quickly covered Shelby’s hand with her own, making sure Shelby stayed where she was.

  “I’m Jim Daniels, Monica’s old, and new, law partner,” he said, looking all charming in his freshly-groomed white beard.

  Shelby leaned forward, and they shook hands. “That’s sounds complicated.”

  “The three of us are starting our own law firm,” Monica said.

  “Wow! How exciting,” Shelby said. “Congrats!”

  “Thanks,” Monica said. “We haven’t opened the doors yet, but we’re finalizing the details.” She felt like she was bragging, but what the hell. If she was guilty of trying to impress Shelby, so be it. She considered Shelby a bit out of her league—with all those natural curls, hazel eyes that flickered in the candle light, and a tight, fit body—so, if Monica could beguile Shelby with a successful career, she would.

  “Sounds impressive,” Shelby said. “What’s the name of your new firm?”

  Even though Monica’s chest swelled with pride, she restrained herself from blurting it out, waiting for Jim or Nathan to say it first. Say it already, you dumb shits!

  Being a ladies’ man, Jim clued into Monica’s deliberate humility and obliged her. “Spade, Daniels & Taylor. You’re looking at the lead partner right here.” He raised his glass to Monica.

  His tribute had the desired effect. Shelby’s eyes sparkled with attraction. The hazel color with gold flecks had a kaleidoscopic effect on Monica, pulling her into Shelby’s soul. So close. So charismatic. So sexy. All cogent thought was annihilated.

  “Then a congratulatory kiss is in order.” Shelby moved in quickly and grazed Monica’s lips.

  Wait a minute! That was too fast for a first kiss! You didn’t even warn me! What happened to sweet nothings and a build-up?! Monica ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, tasting Shelby’s lipstick mixed with chardonnay. She oh-so-wanted more but came up short on the ability to talk, so she gently squeezed Shelby’s hand instead.

  Shelby smiled and slowly thumbed away a little lipstick above Monica’s lip. “Sorry.”

  Monica leaned into Shelby’s touch, her heart in a free-fall. “No apology needed. Stay for a drink?”

  “I’d love to,” Shelby said, “but I came with a group from school, and I need to get back. We’re celebrating a birthday.”

  “Yours?” Nathan asked.

  “I wish,” Shelby said. “One of the other teachers.”

  “Have a good time tonight,” Nathan said. “If you need a ride home, I’m here.”

  Monica shot Nathan a warning glance. She’s mine. If anyone is driving her home, it’s me.

>   “I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Shelby said then turned to Jim. “Nice to meet you, Jim.”

  “Likewise,” he said in a flirtatious tone.

  Shelby retrained her firebombs on Monica. “Stop by my table later?”

  “Love to.” Monica drew a little circle with her thumb on the back of Shelby’s hand. When she felt a delicate shiver run through Shelby’s arm, Monica almost jumped off her stool and pushed Shelby up against the nearest wall.

  Shelby leaned in close next to Monica’s ear and whispered, “Later, sexy.”

  Some type of moan escaped Monica’s lips, but it was unintelligible and hopefully heard only by Shelby. Incapable of forming intelligent thought or words, Monica smiled, allowing her dimples to communicate for her.

  “Bye.” Shelby untwined her arm from Monica’s and sauntered away.

  Monica turned, so she could watch Shelby walk the entire length of the restaurant, back to her table of teachers, swaying her hips under a sweater that barely covered her ass, making a pair of black leggings look perfect. So much better than that peasant dress she wore to lunch, Monica thought. She must’ve changed before cocktail hour.

  “Earth to Monica. Earth to Monica,” Nathan was saying while Jim chuckled.

  “Huh?” Monica reluctantly turned back to them.

  “I’d say you’ve got it pretty bad for her,” Jim said.

  “More than you realize.” Monica took a healthy drink of beer.

  “She’s pretty into you too,” Jim said. “You make a beautiful couple.”

  Monica’s face lit up, and she sat up a little straighter. “Thanks.”

  “Good move on coming out,” Nathan said. “I guess it just took the right woman, huh?”

  She couldn’t suppress a big smile. “Maybe.”

  “Have you told Al Bowman yet?” Jim asked.

  A wave of embarrassment flushed her face. “Not yet.”

  “You should probably do that before someone else does,” he said.

  “I know, I know, but I can’t seem to find the right time.”

  “Show him you respect him by telling him sooner rather than later,” Jim said.

  “I agree,” Nathan said then then turned to Jim. “What else do you have for us to discuss?”

  “Tell me what you think of the letterhead,” Jim said. “It’s the last page in your packet.