Jury Town

by Stephen Frey

  “Fascinating.”

  “We think so. Apparently, lots of fans do, too.”

  “How’s the company doing these days? Financially speaking, I mean.”

  “We’re fine, just fine.”

  Bart Stevens wouldn’t agree with that, far from it. Excel was dripping dry of cash, and Bart was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to pay himself this month, and the bank was about to foreclose on his house. He’d been warned that he had three days before the sheriff would show up to evict him and his family.

  It wouldn’t be long after that before the sheriff showed up at Racine’s house to take the same action.

  The only potential saving grace: the man from China was in Washington, DC, on business as of last night, and his people had made an appointment for him to meet with them at Excel headquarters tonight in Richmond. His people claimed that if the meeting went well, he would invest the entire five million they were seeking—immediately.

  Racine was praying … again.

  “I remember you guys doing very well,” Victoria spoke up, “and then there was a competitor on the west coast who was doing the same thing you were. And then there was a software problem.”

  “We’re fine,” Racine repeated.

  “If that’s true, why are you here?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why deal with the aggravation you’ve had to go through to get to this point in the process if Excel Games is doing so well?”

  “The road here hasn’t been that bad.”

  “Really, David?” she asked, mystified. “If that’s true, you’re the most patient man I’ve ever met. To get to this meeting with me, you’ve been through four ninety-minute interviews, you’ve completed three rounds of psychological tests, and you’ve had your entire life since kindergarten dissected by two background-check companies. If Excel Games is doing so well, why bother with all that?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Is this a dive for cover? For a man with a first and second mortgage, huge car payments, forty-seven grand to pay off on his new kitchen, and a nasty divorce settlement looming on the horizon, this would be a nice alternative if his company’s going into the toilet.”

  Racine smiled stiffly. “I’m getting a front-row seat on why you got so many programs established as governor.”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Okay, I’m hedging my bets.”

  “That’s better. I need you to be candid with me going forward, David. I must know I can trust you completely.”

  It was time to go on offense. He hated backpedaling. “I haven’t decided to do this yet.”

  “And I haven’t offered you the opportunity.”

  Victoria Lewis was a formidable woman. “So what’s this really about?” he asked. “Of course, I know the general idea. The whole state does since you made that announcement at the Supreme Court Building. Heck, the whole country knows.” He paused. “And you’re exactly right. It’s been an incredible grind getting through all the interviews, tests, and background checks. I want details. I deserve them.”

  “All right, so let’s get to the gorilla in the corner first. Let’s get to the detail I know you’re most interested in.”

  Racine held his breath.

  “You’ll make two million dollars a year for two years as a juror.”

  His mouth fell slowly open. “Two million?” he gasped.

  “That’s right. Four million in total.”

  “Of course, I’ll be sequestered from the outside world for those two years.”

  “That’s correct. You won’t even be able to contact Claire, not even send her letters or receive hers. If you do, even if you just try, it will be a felony punishable by five years in prison.”

  He hadn’t missed her passing reference to Claire. She even knew the name of his daughter. “What if a family member becomes terminally ill or has a bad accident?”

  “There will be exceptions in the case of immediate family members. The same will apply to the jury members themselves, of course. If you become seriously ill or hurt, you will be excused.”

  “What about the money in that case?”

  “If a juror is forced to leave because of illness or injury, the money will be prorated based on how many days of the two years were served. But if you voluntarily leave the program without a viable excuse, you’ll get nothing, even if you only have a few days left in your commitment. And you’ll go to prison if we prove you were talking to people on the outside.”

  “So I’ll be an inmate at Archer Prison for two years.”

  “I don’t know of many inmates who are handed four million dollars the day they’re released from prison. And please refer to it as Jury Town. No more Archer Prison.”

  “Are you running the program now that it’s operational? Are you staying with this?”

  “I am.” She leaned forward over the desk. “And I’m going to need strong personalities inside the walls. Strong personalities like yours. I want you to be part of this project, David. I see you as one of our most important cogs, definitely a foreman type. You’re a CEO. You know how to motivate and lead.” She grinned. “And you’re tall, dark, and handsome. All the predictive data suggests you’ll be perfect. As does my instinct.”

  He laughed self-consciously. “I’ll give you the tall and dark.”

  “Fine, but don’t give me false modesty. You’re a charismatic, good-looking man, and that helps me. Whatever helps me, I’m all for. I believe this program could completely revamp the judicial system for the better, but it’s going to take a Herculean effort from a lot of people to achieve what I’m seeking to achieve. People like you.” She hesitated. “And there’s one more thing specific to you.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “I’m going to need someone inside the facility who can keep me informed.”

  Racine looked at her like she was crazy. “You want me to be a snitch?”

  “Not a snitch, an informant.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Informant sounds better.”

  He eased back into his chair as she leaned even farther over her desk. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I sense that you’ll have something you’ll need from me.” She held up her hand before he could respond. “And I’ll make it worth your while. I’ll solve your liquidity problem.”

  He gazed at her, his heart beginning to beat harder.

  “I still have three open spots,” Victoria said quietly. “It’s an incredible opportunity, David. A lot to consider, but I need your answer quickly.”

  Two years without seeing Claire, Racine thought to himself ruefully as he stared back at Victoria. Two uninterrupted years for that prick tennis pro to become the father figure. Was four million dollars worth that risk?

  “How exactly are you going to solve my money problems?”

  She couldn’t lose this one—Victoria’s father was whispering that to her from the grave. David Racine was one of the stars who could make Project Archer a tremendous success. One of those rare individuals everyone wanted to be around, who could lead simply on the strength of his natural charisma—and had the analytical mind to process data, to see problems and opportunities that others didn’t.

  Victoria desperately needed an informant who would be completely loyal—Racine fit that bill perfectly. Once he committed, he committed. The psychological tests had shown that. Out of all the candidates they’d interviewed, he was the one.

  In fact, she even liked that he had money problems. Without those challenges, she wouldn’t stand a chance of him sacrificing two years with his daughter. He loved Claire far too much, according to their intelligence.

  “This evening,” Victoria answered, “I’m sending you a contract that will bind you very tightly to Project Archer. Show it to your attorney, but no one else. You have two days to think through your commitment, and then you’re signing on the bottom line … or not. If you sign you’ll receive five hundred thousand dollars immedia
tely, as well as my undying appreciation.”

  “Five hundred—”

  “Yes.”

  Racine had tried hard to mask his shock and awe at this new sound bite. But, as cool a customer as he was, she’d seen the emotion break his expression. For a few moments, he’d looked like a man who was about to be served a thick T-bone—after not eating for a week. “It’s a down payment on the four million, and it will be in your account a few hours after I get the executed contract.” Her eyes narrowed. “But if you turn on me after signing that contract, it’ll cost you a million dollars to get back out of it. And I’ll make certain the state of Virginia files against you in court if you don’t come up with the money immediately.”

  “You’re quite the negotiator, Ms. Lewis.”

  “This is for keeps, Mr. Racine.”

  “So I see, Ms. Lewis.”

  She stood and walked to the door, where they shook hands. Racine stepped into the hallway. He glanced at the four security people guarding the door, then turned back toward Victoria. “There was a young woman coming out of your office when I got here,” he said. “Her name was Sofia. Is she going to Jury Town?”

  Victoria wasn’t surprised that Racine had been immediately attracted to Sofia Acosta. Sofia was as beautiful a woman as Victoria had ever seen. And if politics had taught her anything, it had taught her to exploit situations that presented themselves out of nowhere.

  “Yes, David,” she answered, “Sofia will be going to Jury Town. And she’ll need a strong shoulder to cry on when she gets there.”

  Mitch tapped out a text on his phone as he limped up Ninth Street along the crowded sidewalk, nearly running into several people hurrying the other way, muttering a curt apology to their wake. He was late for a meeting with his uncle, and he was going against the early rush-hour traffic to get back to the Supreme Court Building.

  Not many people were aware, but Chief Justice Eldridge had a fiery temper behind closed doors. He never screamed or yelled, so no one ever heard his wrath. He carefully safeguarded his reputation as the eternally calm voice of reason. But he could be scathingly spiteful to subordinates, sometimes over seemingly minor issues, even to his chief of staff.

  Mitch stopped behind a huddle of people, waiting for the light at Franklin to change, then trailed along when they began to move. There was no way to get around the pack. He’d just have to face his uncle’s wrath for being late.

  Halfway across the street, Mitch glanced up from his phone, and for a moment, came face-to-face with a young woman hurrying the other way. She seemed so familiar, despite the sunglasses and baseball cap pulled low over her eyes.

  Then she was past him.

  Mitch whipped around, wincing as a bolt of pain knifed though his bad hip. “Sofia!” he yelled. The woman’s shoulders seemed to hunch when he called out. But she didn’t look back. “Sofia!”

  As he took a step to go after her, his phone pinged. Eldridge was already grilling him by anticipating his lateness.

  When Mitch glanced back up from his phone, the woman was gone.

  CHAPTER 21

  RICHMOND, VIRGINIA

  “Close that door, Mitch,” Judge Eldridge ordered sternly from behind the ornate desk of his Supreme Court office.

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  Mitch addressed Eldridge as “Your Honor” at all times these days, even at family functions. It had always been Uncle Dan before, here in the office as well—at least privately—but their relationship had cooled in the last few months.

  Mitch had no idea why.

  In fact, he wondered if he’d still have a job in a few minutes, or if this meeting had to do with something more ominous. Perhaps his uncle’s command to close the door had been given to cover law-enforcement people who were massing outside the office, about to arrest him for accepting bribes from Salvatore Celino in exchange for Supreme Court documents, perhaps even charge him as an accessory to Raul Acosta’s murder.

  Mitch didn’t like that drab, dark-blue bow tie his uncle was wearing. Whenever Eldridge delivered bad news, he wore ties like that one. Every lawyer in the city who argued before the Supreme Court recognized that signal. But today’s courtroom proceedings had been routine. There had to be another reason for the sad tie—at least, not in the courtroom.

  “Sit,” Eldridge ordered gruffly as he eased into his leather chair, still wearing his long black robe even though court was over for the day.

  Eldridge always wore his robe at the office, even on days he wasn’t going to court. The other six justices did as well, though Eldridge had never asked them to. They did it out of respect.

  “Is something wrong, Your Honor?”

  His uncle’s forehead creased, and he raised a hand to smooth the divot of stress between his brows. “I’m very sad about Raul. He was a good man.”

  Mitch nodded. “Of course you are. I am, too. He was a very good man.”

  “Have you found out anything more about the shooting?”

  Well, at least it didn’t sound as though this meeting had anything to do with an accessory-to-murder charge. “I’ve been in touch with city detectives several times, but they have no leads.”

  “Do you think it had anything to do with that letter he was carrying for me?”

  “I don’t know, Your Honor.” Now he was lying directly to his dead father’s brother. If it all came out, he’d go from war hero to villain in no time. Of course, it wouldn’t really matter at that point because he’d be behind bars. “I don’t even know what was in the letter. You never told me. I delivered it to Raul, as you requested. That was all.”

  Eldridge shook his head. “Even if it was a random shooting, Raul was out late because of me. His death is on my shoulders.”

  Mitch began to relax. He wasn’t out of the woods, but the conversation didn’t appear to be heading in the direction of him being fired, either.

  “Raul had a wife and children,” Eldridge said softly.

  “A boy named Daniel who’s ten, and a girl, Maria,” Mitch answered. “His wife’s name was Sofia.”

  The Acosta house had been dark and empty last night when Mitch had gone there to find out what Sofia knew. He’d assumed she’d already gone back to New York with the children. In fact, he’d intended on asking Salvatore to find her in Brooklyn. But he could have sworn he’d just passed her on the street a few minutes ago. Maybe she’d heard his cell phone go off after all. Maybe that’s why she’d ignored him on the street.

  “I know. Sofia was here a little while ago,” Eldridge said. “I spoke to her.”

  Mitch’s eyes raced to his uncle’s, then quickly away for fear Eldridge might see his shock. “Oh?”

  “She invited me to Raul’s funeral, but I couldn’t go. I asked her to come in here and talk.”

  “What did she say?” Mitch asked hesitantly. Perhaps he shouldn’t have started feeling better after all.

  “It’s what I said to her. I gave her the opportunity to become part of Project Archer. I gave her the opportunity to go to Jury Town. Then I sent her over to see Victoria.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Money.”

  “Money?”

  “She’s a single mother now. She’ll need a big income.”

  “And she’ll get that from being a juror inside Archer?”

  “I haven’t told you everything about Project Archer, Mitch. I’ve had to keep things very secret.” Eldridge winced apologetically. “I’m afraid I’ve been short with you the last few months. I’m sorry. It hasn’t been you; it’s been me. Project Archer has been quite a challenge. I’ve gone back and forth many times about bringing you in on everything. But Victoria Lewis and I had to maintain the utmost security level around the project. We still do, but I feel it’s time to bring you in, especially now that Jury Town has gone live.”

  Mitch leaned forward in his chair. He had to appear as if he had no idea what was really going on, even though he’d read everything he’d given to Salvatore. “What things have y
ou not told me, Uncle Dan?” he asked, feeling very good now about going back to the old habits. Eldridge was accepting blame for them not being so close the last few months. It was nothing he had done.

  “For starters, the jurors are earning two million dollars a year.”

  “My God,” Mitch whispered. Had that sounded genuine? “That’s incredible. Where do I sign up?”

  “Yes,” Eldridge said expectantly, “that’s everyone’s first reaction. But would you really give up two years with your children? No contact with them at all for two years? Honestly, Mitch.”

  He eased slowly back into the chair and, after a few moments, shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t. Not at the ages they are right now.”

  “Even though I know you could use the money.”

  Again Mitch’s eyes raced for his uncle’s. “What do you mean?”

  “To buy all the things your wife has cajoled you into buying, you must have run up a mountain of debt. It’s no secret in the family that we think she’s a very pushy woman. No offense, Mitch.”

  Relief eased through him—again. His uncle knew about his wife’s extravagances, but assumed it had been funded with loans. “None taken.”

  “She’s a social climber, too, though I think we both know she has no chance of ever piercing the society circles she’s trying to invade. You know this city. I’m sorry, but a woman like that, especially one who isn’t from Richmond, doesn’t have a chance. They’ll string her along and make her think she does, because that’s the kind of people they are. But she doesn’t.” Eldridge winced. “Glad my wife never got caught up in all that.”

  “Yeah, well—”

  “I feel bad. You’ve taken extraordinary care of me as my chief of staff for the last few years, but you’ve been doing it on a state salary. You need to start earning some real money, Mitch. So I’ve taken the liberty of arranging a position for you at Knowles & Williams.”