When Men Betray

by Webb Hubbell

  The park between the Armitage and the river hadn’t been built when I left Little Rock. I appreciated how much the city had learned to value the river, building this park so everyone could have access to the soothing qualities of the broad river moving by. Over the years, the city kept acquiring riverfront land, adding to the size of the park on both ends. Now you could ride your bike or run along the river-bank for almost eight miles without having to cross a street. At the ends of the park were large, well-designed playgrounds, soccer fields, tennis courts, and pavilions for large family gatherings and picnics. A soaring footbridge over the river capped the western end of the park, connecting it to golf courses and more green space on the other side.

  I thought about how good most of my life had been in Little Rock and how fortunate I was to have friends like Sam, Woody, and Marshall. Whenever we got together, we slipped back into our comfortable rapport without missing a beat. But did these reunions bear any resemblance to reality? Sam didn’t think so. We looked pretty much the same, we still laughed at the same jokes and old stories, but we were no longer boys—we were mature men. Sam was now a self-described “hardened prosecutor.” Marshall was a judge whose perspective was defined by his work on the bench. Woody, the idealist among us, was about to be charged with the assassination of a US senator. I had chosen to be a DC antitrust lawyer. We weren’t in Kansas anymore.

  “Hey, Clovis,” I asked, “what does the movie Jerry Maguire mean to you?”

  “I loved that movie. I remember Cuba Gooding, as the football player Rod Tidwell, shouting, ‘Show me the money,’ the little kid throwing the baseball a mile, and Tidwell at last realizing that he had to shut his mouth and earn ‘the kwan.’ It was a great scene, but I didn’t know what it meant to earn ‘the kwan,’ so I looked it up. It means to earn the respect, the love, and yes, the money, that comes with pro ball. That’s what real life is about, not all that dancing and demanding and acting out athletes do these days.”

  “I remember, and you’re right. I just wish I knew what it meant to Woody.”

  “Don’t you have that backwards? Woody sent you the message. What did he think it would mean to you?”

  “Hmm. That’s pretty much what Micki said.” Maybe it was time I paid attention.

  We turned around and were almost back to where the path linked up to the passageway to the hotel when Micki, Beth, and Paul flew by us in full sprint. When we caught up with them, the three runners had already drained their water bottles and were gulping water from the fountain at the park entrance, panting and drenched in sweat.

  “Good run?” I asked. “Everyone okay?”

  Micki was bent over, hands on knees, trying to catch her breath. She lifted her head and scowled at Clovis. “You brought in a ringer. Paul’s no security guard. He’s a track star. He damn near killed us.”

  Paul looked a little less exhausted than Beth or Micki and a little sheepish to boot. Seems he’d started slow, but kept asking Beth and Micki if they wanted to pick up the pace. Neither of them wanted to wimp out, and by the end, they were busting it to keep up. Clovis and I enjoyed the banter among the runners, who had just successfully run five miles in less than fifty minutes. Maggie and Walter met us as we walked back into the hotel.

  I went directly to the dining room, waved away the proffered newspaper, and ordered breakfast. I was starving. As I sipped on my coffee, my mind began to focus on my morning tasks. First, I had to call Ron. I also owed Jerry Prince a call to tell him I needed to delay our meeting. Third on the list was my meeting with Janis Harold.

  The arrival of a cheese omelet, bacon, and hash browns roused me, and I noticed Brenda walking toward my table.

  “Would you like some company?” she asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  She looked pleased, smiling as she relaxed into a chair.

  “You look nice this morning—and pleased as punch. What’s the occasion?”

  “Well, I have a full hotel and so far, no major problems.”

  We talked for a little while. She seemed surprised to learn we weren’t leaving after the funeral and asked how long we planned to be in Little Rock. I explained that we had a meeting with the judge that afternoon and the arraignment the next day, but out of habit, I wasn’t very forthcoming with our plans. Looking a little annoyed, she immediately excused herself and walked off. What the heck was that about?

  Trying to put Brenda out of my mind without much luck, I took my time over breakfast before going upstairs. As I got off the elevator, I noticed a hotel security guy standing next to my door. Since I didn’t see the pin he was supposed to be wearing, I decided to put Clovis’s procedures to the test and said, “Password?”

  He looked confused and mumbled, “Charlie?”

  I didn’t budge, and suddenly, he reached behind his back, pulled out a knife, and lunged at me. A knife? What the hell? …

  Instinctively, I dodged his thrust and managed to trip him up. As he fell, I stomped on his knife hand as hard as I could, then jumped back to a safer distance, hoping he’d run. But he didn’t let go of the knife, and he didn’t run. As I looked around for help, he quickly positioned himself between my room and me. He didn’t look confused now, and I was in real trouble. I couldn’t outfight this guy … maybe I could outrun him? I looked around wildly—where to go? Suddenly, the door behind him opened. Micki stepped out and swung a bottle of wine down over his head. The bottle shattered, and the guy dropped to the ground, stunned.

  The next thing I knew, Micki was kicking the man in the balls. He quickly curled up into a ball of his own, but Micki kept on kicking. They were both covered with wine. I kicked the knife down the hallway and ended up defending him, trying to dodge Micki’s leg. “Stop! Stop, Micki, please stop!”

  She stared at me wild eyed. “He was going to kill you, Jack! He was going to kill you!”

  As I held her and tried to walk her away from the guy on the floor, Clovis and Paul charged out of the elevator, guns in outstretched hands. It didn’t take long for them to realize that the man on the floor was the one in trouble. Paul took Micki by the shoulders and eased her back to our suite. The man’s groaning had become quieter, but between a swollen hand, a smashed head, and whatever shape his balls were in, he hadn’t moved.

  More security arrived, and Clovis told me he’d join us in the suite after he’d dealt with the police.

  Paul was trying to soothe Micki and get her to sit on the sofa. She was coming down from an adrenalin rush and was shaking like a leaf. Maggie had her arm around Beth’s shoulders—Beth looked terrified, and I couldn’t blame her. What had I gotten us into? What if it had been Beth?

  “I was in the bedroom when I heard this giant thud, and then Micki screamed,” Beth said, to no one in particular. “I rushed out of the suite and could hardly believe my eyes. Micki was kicking this guy, and Dad was pulling her away. There was wine and glass everywhere. I remembered the panic button and hit it, but everything was all over by then.”

  That explained how Clovis and Paul had arrived on the scene so quickly. I felt the inevitable loss of adrenaline and sat down, trying to calm down, but my heart was going ninety to nothing.

  Paul had gotten Micki to sit down. Still badly shaken, she sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I heard the noise, saw you and the knife, and reacted. I lost control. I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I could’ve really hurt him if you hadn’t pulled me away.”

  “It’s okay, Micki. You didn’t have time to think, and right now, I’m really glad you didn’t! Thank you.” She gave me a weak smile in return.

  Walter rushed into the room, and I quietly pulled him aside, “After what just happened, I won’t blame you if you take Maggie back to DC with you. She won’t listen to me, but she’ll listen to you.”

  “She’d never go for it, and besides, I need her to watch you. We have an investment in your continued health. Seriously, Maggie is more aware of the danger than you realize. Just finish your job here, my friend, and come home. And i
f you change your mind, my plane’s at your disposal all week. Feel free to use it to get the hell out of here.”

  31

  I LEFT THE living room and retreated to my shower. Despite my false bravado, my knees were now shaking as badly as Micki’s. The realization of what had happened was just starting to sink in. There was no doubt—this guy had actually tried to kill me. I’d been just plain lucky. I used the soothing warmth of the shower to calm down. No ‘shower thoughts’ this time. In fact, I tried not to think about anything at all.

  Dressed in clean jeans and a golf shirt, I returned to the living room. Micki looked a lot better than she had a few minutes ago. I told Beth that her short list of names might come in handy after all and asked her to run each of their donations all the way back to the first campaign.

  “Maggie, I need to make those calls we talked about. Is it okay if I use your suite?”

  “Of course. Let me get you the key card.”

  “I need you to come with me, if you don’t mind.” Maggie looked a little surprised, but nodded in agreement

  We were about to leave when Clovis came in.

  “We’re not going to get much out of this guy. He refuses to talk, has no ID on him, and is certainly not from around here. He’ll be charged with aggravated assault, but I bet he’ll make bail and disappear as soon as he gets out of the hospital—happens all the time. The police want to interview you, but I told them you were too shaken up. I told them to call Sam if they had a problem.”

  He turned to Micki and smiled. “No one knows who you are yet or that you’re the one who almost neutered Jack’s assailant. Good thing you were there. Jack’s lucky—he’s no match for a guy with a knife.”

  My feelings were a little hurt, but I knew Micki needed to hear she’d done the right thing. Besides, Clovis was right.

  I told him he needed to follow up with this guy before he had a chance to run—he was our only physical link to the enemy. He agreed and said he’d do what he could, depending on what the police would allow. But he and Martin had decided to drop the hotel’s security assistance and upgrade our own—that came first.

  Maggie and I left him to deal with the details of security. Right now, I needed to get these phone calls out of the way.

  When we walked into Maggie’s suite, she said, “Are you sure you’re up for this? I know you pretty well. What just happened has to have shaken you.”

  “I’m okay. I need to keep going or I’ll run out of steam, and we’ll run out of time. But I’m worried about Beth. I should never have let her come.”

  “There’s no way you could have stopped her. Besides, if she were back at Davidson, you’d be going nuts. She’s stronger than you think. I’m just surprised Jeff hasn’t shown up.”

  I smiled. “So am I, actually. If Beth were my girlfriend, wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Have you been able to reach Janis Harold?”

  “You and Micki are meeting her at Tucker’s at eleven o’clock. She offered to come here, but it’s getting a little crowded.”

  “Tucker’s is better anyway. Woody told me that he left some money to Beth. I don’t want her to know until I get verification.”

  I looked through my to-do list. “Okay—let’s get this over with. I want to get Ron on the speaker, but at some point, I might ask you to step out. I promise it’s for your protection. This could get pretty nasty.”

  I put the hotel phone between us on the round table. Ron answered with, “It’s about fucking time. Don’t they have phones in that godforsaken place?”

  “Ron, I have Maggie on speaker.”

  Ron continued without a pause. “Nice to know. Look, I’m sorry, Jack, but you forced the firm’s hand by going to Little Rock. We had no choice.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I told you to get the hell out of there, but now you’ve damaged the firm’s reputation as well as your own. Your partners are fed up. I like you personally, Jack, but you’ve committed professional suicide.”

  I wasn’t surprised at his tirade; the question was, what had the firm done, if anything? “What do you propose I do, short of falling on my sword?”

  “Sorry—it’s too late. We can’t let a Banks and Tuohey attorney represent an assassin.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want me to go to today’s meeting with the judge?”

  “You still don’t get it, do you? You fucking idiot, I don’t care what you do now. Last night, the executive committee fired your ass. I’m sorry, but I’ve had to listen to clients all weekend—and they’re plenty pissed. They want you gone. Hell, Jack, you know this as well as I do—we can’t afford to lose clients over a goddamned assassin.”

  “I’m sorry they feel that way. When do I have to leave?”

  “You were terminated as of midnight last night. Your partner’s share and all other monies due were deposited in your bank this morning. Your access to our computer system has been terminated. Your office has been cleaned out by security—we put it all in storage. Rose has been reassigned to the associate’s pool.” I could see Maggie grimace. “Of course, we wish you all the luck in the world.” Right.

  “As I said, Maggie’s here with me. What about her?”

  “Maggie, I’m sorry you had to hear all this, but maybe it’s better. I accepted your resignation when I got your letter. We’re sorry you’re leaving, but I’ve got good news for you. When a staff member resigns in good standing, we accept that resignation immediately. We’ll still pay you the two weeks you have coming, but you don’t need to return, and yesterday, the executive committee gave you an extra month’s pay.”

  I could tell Maggie was about to tell him where to stick this peace offering, but I reached out my hand and touched her arm.

  “We deposited the funds in your bank account this morning,” Ron said. “Your last day was officially this past Friday.” At least he had the decency to sound uncomfortable about Maggie.

  “What about my personal belongings?” she asked.

  Ron hadn’t thought about the insult to Maggie of packing up her personal effects, and he didn’t want to piss off the future wife of one of the firm’s best clients.

  “Uh, well, I guess somebody wasn’t thinking. When they were boxing up Jack’s stuff, they boxed up yours, too. No offense meant. Where would you like us to send them?”

  I knew Maggie was steaming, but you couldn’t tell by her cultured purr.

  “Just keep mine with Jack’s. I’ll let Debbie know where to have it sent when I return.”

  “I have one question,” I told Ron. “We need to talk about Arcade Oil.”

  “Don’t even think about it, Jack. Their business stays with the firm. And make no mistake—they were loud and clear that you had to go.”

  I thought as much, but Ron shouldn’t have told me.

  “Now, I know Jerry Prince is your friend, but it wasn’t his call. Word came down from the top. Your relationship with them is completely severed. Besides, Jerry’s decided to retire.”

  “Really? As of when?”

  “Friday, I think. Look, Jack, all the best, but I’ve got work to do.”

  Not possible, I thought, as I hung up. I’d talked to Jerry on Saturday. I should have been angry, but I had mixed emotions. I’d spent a good part of my professional life at the firm, and I liked most of my partners. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I’d like to think that I’d have behaved differently. On the upside, firing me solved an ethical issue that had cropped up last night in Beth’s research. As I stared at the phone in my hand, I wondered how much the firm knew about what I had discovered.

  Maggie looked puzzled, mad, and worried all at the same time.

  “It’s okay,” I told her. “I’m glad you got to hear all that. Hey, sometimes things work out for the best. For me, you, and possibly Woody, this needed to happen just the way it did.”

  “Do you mean Walter’s offer?”

  “Well, no, although Walter’s offer looks even better than before, if that
’s possible. First, you’ll never have to darken their door again, and you’re free to work for me. It bothered me that you were helping me and still employed by the firm. It created some sticky issues I don’t have to worry about anymore. Second, if Ron hadn’t fired me, I was going to have to take a leave of absence. As of midnight, you and I had no clients, and this afternoon, we’ll have our first … Woody.”

  Maggie raised her eyebrows at “we.”

  “That is, if you’ll have me. What do you say? I can only promise we’ll have one client, and our job may end tomorrow, but it’ll be one hell of a day.”

  My mood was contagious, and Maggie didn’t disappoint. “Of course I’ll work for you on this case, but I warn you—I want a raise. And combat pay.”

  We both laughed.

  “I have one other condition,” she said. “As soon as we get back, I’m going to open up an office for the foundation, whether you take Walter’s offer or not. I’ll tell Debbie to have our stuff delivered there, but I won’t tell a soul what we’re doing—I want Ron to be very confused and a little scared.”

  I gave her the thumbs-up, tickled but not surprised by her loyalty.

  Handing Maggie the list of donors I’d made last night, I asked, “Recognize anyone?”

  “Of course, but what do these people have to do with Woody?”

  “What would you say if I told you they all contributed to Russell’s Senate campaign? Every one of them. They all maxed out.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Hell if I know, but I’m going to find out.”

  32

  MAGGIE AND I returned to my suite, and I was greeted by a new face. This time I didn’t ask for a password.

  He was well built, broad-shouldered, and taller than most catchers. He wore his hair short, almost military. His forearms were massive, and a deep tan complimented bright blue eyes. He stood when I entered, and I walked over and stuck out my hand, “You must be Jeff. What took you so long?”