Wrongful Conviction

by Rachel Sinclair

  Of course, there was a big chance that this would not work. For one thing, Regina might not be Dallas’ type. She knew that there were plenty of men who loved her tough-chick look – the tattoo sleeve, the solid muscles in her arms and legs, her overall attitude that screamed that she was a woman who was not to be messed with. But, there were also plenty of men who preferred a more demure type of woman. For these men, Regina's body was a turnoff, even if they usually did appreciate her rack, which was always obvious by their stares. A lot of men preferred somebody thinner, blonder, paler, and quieter. If this guy liked women who looked like they could kick some ass, then he would like her. But if this guy preferred a cookie-cutter Barbie doll type, then he was not going to be manipulated by her. So, she just had to hope that he was in the category of somebody who liked the way that she looked. And, even if a guy did not appreciate her body, they usually appreciated her face. That was the one constant. And she knew that her combination of high cheekbones, green eyes, full pouty lips, and perfectly symmetrical features, all set against her olive skin, along with her mane of thick dark hair, got most men to notice her.

  She got to his office, which was quite a drive from San Diego, as it was in Studio City, and she walked in. This guy seemed like he was doing okay, judging by his office. At least, this office looked more officey than the one that the last attorney apparently worked in, according to Christian’s description of Jim Stack’s office suite. It was a smallish office, with a small waiting room that sported hardwood floors and two leather couches and a coffee table. There was art on the walls, and some classical music piped in through an overhead speaker. Regina realized that this was not necessarily a suite so much as it was a waiting room and one office. In that one office, she could see through the window that a guy was talking on the phone. She had to assume that the guy who was talking on the phone was Dallas.

  She sat down on the couch and flipped through some magazines, and tried hard to hear what Dallas was talking about. He did not see her walk in, as his back was to the window when she walked in, and now she was sitting down, out of eye view. So, if the guy started talking loudly, she was going to be able to pick out snippets of what he was saying.

  About five minutes into his phone conversation, she did hear him get loud.

  And what she heard was dynamite.

  Chapter 19

  "I know what you're saying," Dallas was shouting into the phone. "And I'm going to get it done. You don't have to yell at me.”

  As Regina casually flipped through a magazine, she was intensely curious about what Dallas had to get done. She listened some more.

  "I told you, Jamel is going to plead guilty tomorrow, and that's going to be that. The blood lust will be satisfied, and Tim will be satisfied as well."

  Tim. He was definitely talking about Jamel's case, but who was Tim? And why did he have to be satisfied?

  "I know, I know. I know that if this whole thing goes south, you’re not going to get to be able to retire early. You’ve told me that 100 times. You don't have to tell me again."

  He paused for less than a minute, before he shouted again. "Yes, I know. I know that the vice president wants to become president in four years or so, and I know that he can't do it if everybody knows what a monster his son is. If you ask me, maybe that mother-fucker should have spent a little more time tending to his own son, instead of preaching to everybody about how they’re doing wrong. If there's one thing I hate, it's a hypocrite. I mean, all he has been able to talk about over his career is family values. He's always going on and on about how our society has become so coarse, and how we all need to pray every day and put God back into the public square, and ban pornography, while he's quietly paying off people to make sure that his violent rapist son can keep on doing what he's doing. I mean, how many people over the years have ended up near death because of that monster? And yes, I do consider hookers and homeless women to be people too. I know that Tim thinks that they are disposable, which I think is despicable.”

  Tim. Regina had a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that Dallas was talking about Timothy Harrison, the current vice president of the United States. But, then again, the description of a holy roller who wanted a theocratic government, who wanted to send our society back to the 1950s, where minorities, gays and women “knew their place,” did sound like him. And, Regina had to admit that from what she knew about this guy, he probably would be the type who would protect his son from paying for his crimes, even if it meant that an innocent black boy would pay instead. Especially if it meant an innocent black boy would pay. That was how guys like Timothy rolled – certain people were entitled to citizenship in the United States, and all that citizenship entailed and conferred, while others were considered to be less-than in some way. Regina, as a former sex worker, would definitely fall into the less-than category in Timothy's eyes.

  So would Jamel.

  Dallas appeared to know that what he was doing was wrong with Jamel, so Regina wondered what was in it for him. Why was he selling Jamel down the river? Why did he go ahead and decide to take this case?

  She found out soon enough.

  "I know, I know, I have to get this done. I know that if I don't, those mobsters are going to be on my doorstep. Believe me, I know that it’s life or death for me to get this done. But I just wish that I knew a different way of doing it."

  Regina smiled. She wondered how much money Dallas owed to the mobsters, and why he owed the money. Regina knew plenty of people in the Eastern European mobs that ran Southern California, and she knew that they did not fuck around. So, everything was becoming clear. This guy took the case for the money. She listened closely to see if the money that he owed was a huge amount of money, or a relatively small amount. $25,000 or less, would be, in Regina's eyes, a doable amount. Anything more than that, and she would not be able to work with it.

  "You know what’s so crazy,” Dallas was saying. "I only owe those goons $5,000. And here I am, selling my soul, because I don't know what else to do to get them off my back. They need the money tomorrow, so, I have to do what I know is wrong, so that I can live another day. I'm exactly the person I never wanted to be." He paused for a few minutes. "I know, I’m going to be getting into gamblers anonymous today. In the meantime, if I want to live out the week, I gotta get this done."

  Regina quietly slipped out the front door. She knew that the conversation was winding down, and if he decided to leave his office, and see her sitting there, she might be in trouble. But, if she simply left, while he was not watching her leave, then she could come back in an hour or so, and do her thing. And he would never know that she was there for that conversation. So, when he turned his back to her again, she walked out the front door.

  The first thing she did was head over to the beach. She drove down Sunset Boulevard to the Santa Monica pier, parked her car, and headed down to the area were all the vendors were. There was something about the carnival atmosphere of the pier that made her believe that she could get lost in the crowd, even if she was dressed like a hoochie mama. She took off her shoes and dangled them from her fingers, and went up to a guy who was selling tacos and ordered two of them. Then she went down to the sand and sat down, eating her tacos while she thought about her next move.

  So now she knew the truth – the vice president was behind all of it. His son was the one who was the real culprit. Now that she knew that, what next? How could she possibly prove any of it? And, apparently everybody was so afraid and intimidated by him that they all were going to go ahead with the nefarious plan to sell Jamel down the river for Vice-President Harrison’s son’s crimes. How was she going to circumvent the blockade?

  She didn’t know. She did know that she had to stop the proceedings. Jamel couldn’t plead guilty.

  By hook or by crook, she was going to make sure that he didn’t.

  Chapter 20

  Regina went back to Dallas’ office a couple of hours later. This time, she actually made her presence known to Da
llas as he sat in his office. She went over to his door, which was half-cracked, and knocked lightly on it. Dallas looked up at her, and she could see, by the expression on his face, that he was a man who did find her attractive. His entire face lit up, although he tried to hide it.

  He cleared his throat and nervously took some files that were on his desk and put them on the floor next to him. “Hello, can I help you?” he asked.

  “Yes, I think you can,” Regina said. “You’re the lawyer for Jamel Jackson, aren’t you?”

  He looked down at the desk and cleared his throat again. “If you can call it that,” he said. “Who’s asking?”

  “Well,” Regina began. She had actually cleared a plan with Christian before she came to this office, and she hoped against hope that it would work. “I was wondering if you would be willing to withdraw from his case. I work for an attorney, Christian Davis, who really wants on that case. You see, he was the attorney for Mr. Jackson for Mr. Jackson’s appellate trial. He managed to get Mr. Jackson out on a writ, and, well, he feels very close to him.”

  Dallas shook his head. “Believe me, I wish that I weren’t involved in that mess. But I am.”

  “Would you like to do some work for Mr. Davis? He would be willing to pay you an advance of $5,000 if you would be willing to work for him.” Regina raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, making sure that Dallas got a good look down her dress. “And I work for him, too. We would be working together.”

  Dallas’ face got red, and he nervously ran his fingers through his thick curly hair. “What, what, what would I be doing for, uh, what did you say his name was?” he asked, while he stared at Regina’s cleavage.

  “Christian Davis. He really wants Jamel’s case, so he’s essentially willing to buy it off from you. Of course, you would have to earn the $5,000 by doing lawyer work for him, but he can pay you that money up front. Like, today. An automatic transfer to your PayPal. What do you say?”

  Dallas didn’t say anything for several seconds. He was too mesmerized by Regina’s breasts. Regina rolled her eyes, making sure that Dallas didn’t catch her doing that, but she didn’t move a muscle. She remained leaning over the desk, giving Dallas the best possible look at her marvelous rack.

  “An automatic transfer to PayPal?” he finally said. “Uh, what do I have to do for him, again?”

  “You have to simply get off of Jamel’s case. Withdraw from it, today. Then you have to sign a contract for services for Christian. He needs somebody to help him prepare for Jamel’s trial, ironically, and he figured that you would be perfect for that job, because you know so much about it. And, as I say, if you do this, you’ll be $5,000 richer by the end of today. So, are you game for that, or not?”

  Dallas finally leaned back and appeared to contemplate the offer for a few minutes. Regina knew that he was going to take it, though. He only took the Jamel case because somebody, probably the bastard VP himself, paid him to take that case, or, more likely, promised to pay him after he got the plea agreement settled. He was desperate for some quick cash to pay off some mobster goons, and he didn’t like knowing that he was sending an innocent kid to prison to get that money. As far as Regina was concerned, his taking her offer was a no-brainer.

  He finally looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, boy,” he began. “If I get off that case, somebody is going to be pissed. To say the very least. But your offer is tempting. I don’t want to plead that kid guilty.”

  “Because you know that he didn’t do it?” Regina asked innocently.

  “Well, I don’t that for sure,” he said. “But-“

  Regina leaned forward again. “Are you positive you don’t know that for sure?”

  Dallas licked his lips, which grossed Regina out, but she tried hard not to show it. “Oh, God, I do know that he didn’t do it. But I can’t tell you who did. Jesus Christ, if I did that, I would really be signing my own death warrant. But, no, he didn’t do it.”

  “Then it’s good that you won’t be pleading him guilty, then, isn’t it?”

  “I never agreed to what you’re proposing. I have to think about things.”

  “What do you need to think about?” Regina asked. “You won’t be sending an innocent kid to prison, and you also will be getting a lot of money up front. You’ll be working to free that kid instead of condemning him. Everybody wins. Right?”

  Dallas looked at Regina, obviously trying to decide if he should tell her more. “I wish that it were that simple. As it is, I’m into this pretty deep. I know that somebody will have my balls in a jar if I do what you’re asking me to do. It won’t be pretty.”

  “What if I told you that I know who raped Felicity McDaniel,” Regina asked. “And that I have a plan to bring him down?”

  Dallas cocked his head and laughed. “Oh, you do know who raped her, do you? Tell me.”

  “His name is Noel Harrison. He’s the son of the current vice-president.” Regina folded her arms in front of her and stared at Dallas. She watched as his face turned a million shades of pink and red and his bony fingers nervously ran through his thick curly hair.

  “Why do you think that he did it?” Dallas asked. “You know that that guy runs Hollywood. He’s like one of the biggest movie producers in town. Why would he do something like that?”

  Watching his reaction, Regina knew that she had pinpointed exactly who was responsible for the rape of Felicity McDaniel. She knew that she had a one in three chance of getting it right, because VP Harrison had three sons. She did some quick research on all three of the sons, and found out that one of them, Rory, was a hipster surfer who lived in the valley, and, as far as Regina was able to tell, he didn't do much except for live off his daddy's trust fund. Regina mentally ruled him out, mainly because she had an image of him as being a pot-head, and all the potheads she had ever known were far from violent. She knew that she was stereotyping, but she had to narrow down the choices somehow.

  The other son's name was Max. He was more interesting to Regina, because he was an investment banker on Wall Street. When Regina found that out, she kept it in mind, because, stereotyping again, she had an image of a high-strung guy who was a Type A and was probably a misogynist. That fit the profile of all the investment bankers she had ever known, and she had actually known quite a few investment bankers in her life, mainly from her days of being a stripper and a sex worker. Then again, she thought that maybe the investment bankers she knew self-selected, as most investment bankers did not necessarily visit hookers, and the ones that did were probably different from the ones that did not.

  Still, she did not have a very good view of Wall Street bankers.

  So, she definitely wanted to keep Max in mind. However, when she hit upon Noel, she thought that she had hit pay dirt. He was a big-time movie producer, so he would have known Felicity through that channel. Once again, Regina was stereotyping, but she thought that movie producers tended to be misogynistic, for the casting couch was still a thing, and a lot of producers had been caught up in the whole #metoo dragnet. She thought that the movie industry was still a good old boy industry, where women were treated as so much cattle.

  It also made sense to her that if Felicity knew that the person who raped her was a movie producer, she would be less likely to bring him down. That would completely explain why Felicity was suddenly eager to testify against Jamel – she was probably being pressured to do so. It also made a lot more sense, because this guy was local, and Max was not. Not that Max would not end up in California at some point, but it made a lot more sense that Felicity was raped by somebody that she knew. It would be very difficult for a rando, even a high-powered rando such as Max, to get at Felicity, but, somebody like Noel would have easy access to her. It all added up when Regina found out what Noel did.

  And, as she watched Dallas's reaction to her saying that Noel Harrison was the rapist, she had no doubt that she was on to something.

  He licked his lips some more, and his bony fingers started to shake. "Why would Noel Harrison do so
mething like that?" he asked.

  “Why, indeed? Why does anybody do things like that? Obviously, the guy is fucked up. In the head. It doesn't have to be rational, but I would say that there's something in his background that’s causing him to be violent. Not that that excuses anything, of course, because it doesn't. But why do I think that that holy-rolling pious hypocrite, Timothy Harrison, is primarily responsible for fucking up his son? Anyhow, that's neither here nor there, but we need to bring this guy down. I mean, he did that to Felicity. Do you think that she was the first one? Do you think she's going to be the last? How long before this guy actually starts murdering women? I mean, it's a logical next step - leave no witnesses and all of that. Could you live with something like that on your head? Because if you can't, then you have no business pleading Jamel guilty tomorrow. You plead him guilty, and that case is closed. If that case is closed, then that means that the bastard got away with it. And if he gets away with it, he's going to keep doing it. That's a fact. Guys like that just don't stop. So, do you want to be responsible for women dying because of this guy, or do you want to do the right thing and help me and Christian bring him down? It's a simple choice, really. Do the right thing, or don't. Be responsible for women being raped, and maybe murdered, or be responsible for a guy going to prison who sorely needs to be there. Your choice.”