That something might have been killing the judge.
It might have been. But I wasn’t sure. And I was a long, long way from proving any of it. I wanted to go to the cops and tell them what I suspected about Gerald, but I was afraid that they would take their attention away from Michael. I needed Michael to still be the focus of the investigation.
I needed to make sure that, at the end of all of this, Michael did the perp walk. That was within my reach. I could feel it. I could taste it. It was coming. I just had to prove it.
“Ms. Ross?” Megan asked me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said, coming out of my reverie. “I am. Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been talking to you and you haven’t answered me back. I think that I lost you somehow.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just got lost in thought. What were just trying to say to me?”
“I was asking you if you needed any other information from me.”
“No, actually. You’ve given me all the information that I need. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty, so I thank you.”
She grimaced. “Well, if what I tell you helps you somehow put Gerald into jail, then I’ll be happy. He’s a bad man, Ms. Ross. A very bad man. Once you told me your suspicions about him – that you think that he was behind the murder of Judge Sanders – I knew that what you were thinking was probably right. Gerald would do something like that without even thinking twice. By the way, who is the judge who is currently overseeing the case?”
I sighed. “Judge Perez. He’s a hard-ass who is really stingy with plaintiffs. The plaintiffs in this case will probably get very little out of it. Which is a shame, of course. They’ve been hurt. They need justice, but it will probably be denied to them. All because of Gerald. They’re collateral damage, and it just isn’t right.”
“No, that’s not right,” Megan agreed. “It’s not right that one judge will award millions and another judge won’t. That doesn’t seem like justice.”
“It’s not. It’s the legal system, though. Powerful people are behind getting these judges seated. Powerful lobbying interests make sure that they get their men and women on the bench. Because federal judges are appointed by the President, the justice system is run by whomever the current President chooses. That’s why elections have consequences. People don’t really think about that, but it’s true – if the people want to have their cases heard by judges who are sympathetic to them, and not to the powerful, then they have to elect politicians who will put those types of judges on the bench. Nobody ever thinks about that angle until they attempt to sue somebody and find out, too late, that the judge who oversees their case is a total hard-ass. Like Judge Perez.”
I was on my soap-box, and I knew it. As an attorney, I knew, for a fact, how important it was to get the right judge to hear your case. Judge Perez, as far as the plaintiffs were concerned, was exactly the wrong judge. As far as the wealthy special interests were concerned, however, Judge Perez was a golden boy. It made me sick.
Megan nodded. “Well, Ms. Ross, I hope that you get your man. By your man, I hope that you get Gerald.”
I shook her hand and she left.
I sat down at my office, thinking that Megan was right. Gerald sounded like a bad guy. The very worst kind of person. But he had good company, because Michael was also a bad guy. They were in on it together. I knew it.
But how was I going to prove it?
The next day, I was sitting in my office, minding my own business, trying to go through my stacks of files and triage them somehow, someway. I was consumed with Michael’s murder trial, but, even so, I also had other clients who needed attention. They were mostly low-level cases that would plead out – stealing clients, DWI clients, and other cases like that. It wouldn’t be a big deal, except that I had a lot of them.
And then I heard Michael come storming into the office suite. “Where is she? Where is my fucking bitch attorney?”
I peeked my head out the door, and he saw me. Pearl stood up and put her hands out, but he went right past her and charged towards my office. My heart started to pound loudly, and I saw him tear off his leather gloves and throw them on the floor. His fists were balled up and I shut the door before he could get in.
“You open that door. You open it right now. Right fucking now.”
A part of me wanted to call the police, but I thought better of it. I didn’t want anything to complicate my mission, and having Michael hauled into the police station would certainly have the effect of slowing his case down. I was so close to finding all the pieces of the puzzle, and I simply didn’t want anything getting in the way.
“I won’t. Not until you calm down.”
I heard him breathing heavily, so I waited. I waited until I heard his breathing slow down before I opened the door.
“Come in,” I said, pointing to a chair. “And sit down.”
“You…you…you…” He shook his head. “What are you doing on this case? Where are you going with it?”
“Come again? If you’re referring to the fact that I had Megan Baker in here for a deposition, I would think that you would be thanking me for that. She told me some information that was very interesting to me about Kayla’s husband.” I nodded my head, never letting on that I suspected that Michael himself was also somehow behind the judge’s murder.
“You lay off Gerald Stone. Do you hear me? You lay off of him. That’s an order.”
I sat down. “Now, why would you ask me to lay off of him?”
He shook his head. “Listen, Kayla and Gerald are on their last tether. Gerald is ready to divorce her and leave her with nothing at all. I have to hear it from Kayla that her husband is harassing her because he found out that you’re looking at him for this murder. Gerald is ready to cut her out. Do you hear me? He’s ready to cut her down to size.”
I narrowed my eyes, wondering what his game was. Why he was so upset. After all, Gerald changed that prenuptial agreement to take out the infidelity clause.
Or was he getting ready to change it back? To put that infidelity clause right back in? That would make sense. I was closing in on him. I was putting him into a vise. It was a vise of his own making, to be sure, but a vise it was.
“Michael,” I said, my voice calm and measured. “What happens to Kayla Stone is none of my concern, and it shouldn’t be yours, either. Your concern should be laser-focused on my finding an alternative person who did this murder. If we go before the jury, at this moment, you’re going to fry. Do you know why the jury will fry you? I’ll tell you why. Because there is nobody else to pin this murder on. Somebody is going to go down for it, and you’re the only candidate at the moment. The only one. Now, my job is to turn over every stone, no pun intended, and find out alternative explanations for the murder. I would like it if you would back off and let me down your job, or else you’re going to be as fried as that chicken you bought the night of the murder.”
“Lay off of Gerald. This is your last warning.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Or what?”
“Or you’re a dead woman.”
In spite of myself, I laughed out loud. “Oh, really. Really. Listen, if you don’t like the way I’m preparing for this case, then I suggest you find a different attorney to threaten. And that’s not even a suggestion at this point. That’s an ultimatum. Either you stop telling me how to do my job or you fire me.” I crossed my arms and sat back in chair and stared at him.
We engaged in a staring contest for a few minutes before he looked away. I could see his wheels turning and I knew that I had him. I knew it. He wasn’t going to fire me. He couldn’t fire me. I had all the cards and he knew it.
But was there something else? Some other reason why he refused to fire me? Granted, Christina told him that he had to hire me or get a Public Defender, but, at this point, I would have thought that he would rather go with the Public Defender. After all, the Public Defender might not put together who really did this crime. Th
ey might, but they might not have looked at the Stone Enterprises angle. If I were him, I would go with that gamble.
Ah, but, then again, Christina would also call in the bond if he did that. He would end up in jail, awaiting trial. That would be motivation enough for him to stick with me. For that reason alone, I felt reasonably confident that I was going remain on his case.
“I told you who did this,” he said. “It was my wife.”
“You never told me that. You told me that you suspected her. You never told me, definitively, that she did it.” I glared at him, appalled that he was going to try to throw his own wife under the bus. Christina was the mother of his five children, too. He really was willing to let her take the blame for this? That made me sick.
His eye twitched. His left eye. He looked like a monster to me, so I turned my head.
“She did it. You get her in here and you ask her one question, and that will tell you everything that you need to know.”
“What’s that one question?”
“You ask her who fathered our oldest child, Lindsay.”
Twenty-Seven
Oh, God. I’m going to be sick. Really, really sick.
Michael had left the office in a huff, and he left more bread crumbs for me to follow. The trouble was, these were bread crumbs that I didn’t want to have left for me. His implication was clear – Judge Sanders fathered Christina’s oldest child, who was 13 years old. That very thought made me sick. I knew that he had raped his daughter, and that was awful enough. But to father a child with her? That was seriously outer limits.
Was Christina angry enough to kill her father?
Or was her father crazy enough to threaten to tell the child the truth?
That was the only thing that made sense to me as to why Christina would do something like that to her father. I mean, why now? The child was 13 years old.
Why indeed? I could think of at least two reasons why Christina might have gone outer limits and killed her father now, as opposed to 14 years ago, when the child was conceived. Number one, Christina just found out that her father had another family, so she killed him as a favor to her mother. Number two, the judge might have threatened Christina with telling the child the truth. Or, door number three was that Christina might not have known for sure, until recently, who the father was of the child.
As I sat back in my chair and looked out the window, I started to think that it was probably the third option. It didn’t make sense that the judge would threaten to tell Lindsay about her parentage. That made zero sense. After all, if that ever got out, his career would be finished anyhow, and, well, he would probably spend some time in prison. Probably he wouldn’t spend a lot of time in prison, just because of who he was, but he would go to prison for sure.
No, he wouldn’t threaten Christina with doing that. It wouldn’t be a credible threat, to say the very least.
I decided just to get to the bottom of it. I called Christina on her cell phone.
“Yeah,” she said. “This is Christina. Who is this?”
“Christina, this is Harper Ross.”
“Oh, hey Harper. How are things cooking over there? You figure out the motive, yet?”
“I’m working on it. Listen, I need for you to come into the office again. At your earliest possible convenience.”
“I’ll be there at 5. I hope that’s not too late. I have to pick up my kids from school and take them home and get a sitter. Don’t ask, but suffice to say, the school where my kids are going have asked that only I pick them up.”
“I’ll see you at 5.”
I hung up the phone, my wheels turning in my head. This was most likely a smoke screen that Michael had thrown up in front of me so that I would stop looking at Gerald. It was like yelling “squirrel!” when all that really was happening was that the person yelling “squirrel!” was dying to distract everybody from what was really happening.
Or it could be that Michael was really telling the truth. But why now? Why would he bring this up now, and not during his initial meeting with me?
Christina came in right at five, looking harried. “Oh, crap,” she said. “I’m so sorry, I have to call my baby-sitter. I forgot to tell her something.” She got out her phone, her hand shaking. “Yeah, Teresa, this Christina. Don’t forget to give Lindsay her medication…okay, goodbye.” She hung up. “It’s not been a good day.”
“Tell me about it,” I said, beckoning her into my office. “Have a seat. I’ll get you a water.”
“No water,” she said, taking a metal flask out of her purse. “I’m really sorry to have to do this, but I can’t take a second longer of this bullshit.” She took the cap off of the flask and put it to her lips. Her hand was still shaking.
I took a deep breath as I watched her drink whatever was in the flask. I could smell it. It was some kind of bourbon. My drink of choice. I wanted her to hand me the flask so that I, too, could take a drink.
I wanted that more than life itself.
But I knew that I couldn’t do that. If I did that, I would be in the bar, right after work, and I just wouldn’t stop. I knew that, so I knew that I couldn’t ask her to share her alcohol with me.
She shook her head wildly and made a face. “Eeeyah,” she said. “That hit the spot. You want some?”
“No. I mean, yes. I’m dying for some. But I can’t.”
“I see. You’re a recovering alkie, huh? I guess I should be, too, but I’m not. I’m a raging alcoholic and I don’t give a shit who knows it. I don’t give a crap who cares about it. As far as I’m concerned, Harper, they can all kiss my ass. My mother, my kids, my husband, everyone. They all are on me to stop drinking, but I never will. Never.”
Her words were slurred, so I could only assume that this wasn’t her first drink of the day. “I hear you,” I said. “I was there once, too. For many years, I was there. I’m not there anymore, of course. But I struggle, every minute of every day, not to take a drink.”
“Oh, I suppose that seeing me drink in front of you isn’t doing you any favors, huh? I’m sorry about that. But I’ve had a rough day. A very rough day.”
I sighed. “Your rough day is about to get worse.” I picked up my paperweight and looked at it closely.
“How can it possibly get worse? The reporters are up in my grill, night and day, trying to get information from me. Somehow, what my father did to me is splashed in the papers. I don’t know who it was who leaked that wonderful piece of information to the media, but I have a pretty good idea. A pretty good idea. And now my daughter’s school has informed me that only I can go and pick her up, because somebody tried to pick her up from school, and that person wasn’t authorized. Yet he insisted. The school had to call the police to get him to leave.”
I furrowed my brow. “Who tried to pick up your daughter from school?”
Christina burped lightly and pounded her chest with her fist. I noticed that her blonde hair, which was ordinarily perfectly coiffed, was slightly messed up in the front. She was looking worse for the wear, but I didn’t blame her one bit. It seemed that she was going through Hell.
“I don’t know. But I have a pretty good idea. It’s the same person who’s been trying to get me to fall on the sword for my father’s murder the entire time. I’m not going to let him get away with it, though. Nope, never. He’ll never get away with it.”
“Who? Who has been trying to get you to fall on the sword?”
She pointed at me and closed on her eyes. “I’ll tell you, but you have to tell me first why you wanted me to come here? You wanted to ask me some more questions, so go ahead. Go right ahead and ask the questions. I won’t bite.”
“Well, okay. Michael told me something very interesting. Very interesting. I wanted to ask you about it.”
“Okay, go ahead. Ask your question. I won’t bite.” She growled a little and batted her hand at me like she was a lion and she smiled and laughed. “Of course I sometimes would like to bite you, because you’re a really gorgeous woma
n.” Then she laughed again. “Yeah, I swing that way. Not always, but sometimes.”
She made me feel slightly uncomfortable, but not really. I had been hit on by women before. I never did swing that way, though, so nothing ever happened, but it was slightly flattering. “Christina, your husband told me something about your father. He gave me another motive that you might have for killing Judge Sanders.”
“For the last time, I didn’t kill my father. Get that through your goddamn head. I didn't kill him. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill him, I didn’t kill him, I didn’t kill him. Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!” She was screaming wildly. “Why does everybody want me to take the fall for this? Goddammit. Now they’re threatening my children. Why? Just because I’m a boozer? That hardly seems fair.”
I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Wait, wait, wait. Back up. You’re not making sense. What do you mean, everybody wants you to take the fall for this? What does that mean?”
“I mean everybody. My husband wants me to take the fall. His girlfriend wants me to take the fall. But they’re not the ones that I’m really worried about. And I am worried. Very worried. I can’t tell you who else is behind wanting me to go down, because they’re powerful people. Powerful people who can do a lot to harm me and my family. So, I’m keeping my mouth shut.”
That pointed to Gerald. He was powerful.
But she said “people.” She didn’t say “person.” She distinctly said the word “people.”
“Go ahead,” she said. “Ask me the questions that you were going to ask me. I have to get home to my freaked-out daughter Elise, who is only 6 years old, and who is terrified that she’s going to be kidnapped. If I were you, I would be watching my back, too. You have daughters, right? Well, not daughters, but they’re your charges. Don’t let anybody get to them. Because they can. They can, and they will. Mark my words about that.”
I swallowed hard, feeling a cold tendril of fear. I was going to have to call Axel and see what he could do about finding somebody to protect Rina and Abby. If I got too close to finding out what was going on, those two girls’ lives could be in danger.
Justice Denied - A Harper Ross Legal Thriller Page 22