by Stephen Frey
Racine shrugged. “What do you want me to do?”
“Forget about Jury Town.”
“I can’t do that, Bart. I need the money.”
“If we accept Xilai’s offer, he said he’d have his people wire us the money tomorrow. We’ll be able to catch ourselves up on salaries immediately. And I’ll be able to keep a roof over my family’s head. I won’t have to give the keys to my front door to a sheriff.”
“Just catching up on salary doesn’t do it for me, Bart. I’d need a loan out of that money, but he was very clear that he’ll be watching every dime we spend. Just getting my salary reinstated won’t work.” But the five-hundred-grand prepayment Victoria was offering him when he signed the Jury Town contract absolutely would. Racine had told Stevens about the two million a year, but not about the advance Victoria was offering. “I need more than that. I owe a contractor fifty grand for my kitchen thanks to Tess. And that’s just the start of my debt problems. I’m behind on the mortgage, I’ve got tuition payments, car—”
“You can’t leave me here by myself.”
“I don’t have a choice, Bart.”
“This is crazy. Xilai’s offering us four million dollars. With that kind of money, we could make this company worth hundreds of millions. Your stake will be worth way more than the money you’ll earn at—”
“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”
Racine and Stevens’ eyes raced to the conference-room door.
“No problem at all,” Racine answered smoothly as he stood and walked toward Xilai. “I was trying to convince my CFO that we should stick to our five-million-dollar premoney value, but he won’t budge. And in the end, I always listen to him.”
“Do we have a deal then?” Xilai asked as Racine reached him.
Racine held out his hand. “We have a deal,” he confirmed as he glanced over his shoulder. “Right, Bart?”
Stevens stared back without answering.
“He’s overcome with joy,” Racine said smoothly. “He can’t believe this is finally happening, and he’s finally going to have money in the till again.”
INTERSTATE 95, NEW HAMPSHIRE
Rockwell sped through the night, feeling untouchable for the first time in his life.
“I’m a Gray,” he whispered, still shocked by what had happened, by the twist they’d thrown at him in the middle of the meeting when they’d told him—with no ceremony—that he could remove his blindfold.
They’d had a big easy chair waiting for him—no more of that uncomfortable wooden chair. And, from now on, they were going to chopper him to and from meetings using a helipad that lay a quarter mile deeper into the forest—as he’d always suspected. He’d proven himself worthy, and now there were five when there had once been four.
“I’m one of them.”
Rockwell had many things to do when he got home—in addition to running one of the hottest firms on Wall Street.
He had to make sure his contact got to Felicity West.
He had six more trials around the country he needed to send his messengers out to influence.
And he needed to start focusing on Angela Gaynor. It turned out the Grays had already begun implementing a plan to frame her if her campaign gained too much momentum too quickly. It turned out they weren’t all prepared to shoot Ms. Gaynor down in cold blood—not yet, anyway.
Though that wasn’t the case with Victoria Lewis—just the opposite, in fact. Apparently, they were doing everything in their power to murder her in order to send a clear message to the rest of the states around the country—particularly New York and California—about setting up their own Jury Towns. However, she was proving incredibly difficult to kill, thanks to her bodyguards. The other Grays had asked him to do background work on Dez Braxton as well. If they couldn’t kill him, maybe they could influence him.
He had all of those critically important tasks to focus on when he arrived home. But none of those things would be first on the list.
Before anything else and as soon as he was in his office, no matter how tired he was from this final drive, Rockwell intended to try to match the faces he’d met in that cabin to pictures on websites. He wanted to know exactly who he’d just become partners with. He’d start with the employee websites of the CIA and the Department of Homeland Security.
RICHMOND, VIRGINIA (WEST END)
“Good night, Claire,” Racine called softly from the bedroom doorway.
“Night, Dad,” she called back through a yawn, pulling the covers up over her shoulder and turning on her side, away from the door. “See you in the morning.”
He was about to flip off her bedroom light, but stopped with his finger on the switch. “There’s something I need to say, honey.” He’d been dreading this moment ever since the meeting with Xilai had ended. But he couldn’t wait any longer to tell her.
“What is it?” she asked, sitting up in bed, suddenly wide-awake.
He took a labored breath as he moved a few steps back into her room. She’d always looked at him like he was her hero—and now he was going to risk all that. “You have to go live with your mother in California for a while.”
“What? No way! I’m staying here with you.”
“And I want you to stay, believe me, Claire.”
“They can’t make me go. I’m fourteen. I can make my own choices. And I’m not going to live with that tennis guy Mom’s shacked up with. I hate him. I don’t care about a court order. I’ll talk to the judge myself,” she said defiantly.
“It’s not about a court order or talking to a judge.”
“Well, what is it?”
“It’s something I have to do. It’s on me this time.” Telling Stevens about Jury Town was one thing, but he couldn’t burden Claire with it. “I have to work on a project for two years.”
“A project?”
“I have to go away.”
Her blank stare slowly morphed into suspicion. “What do you mean, ‘go away’?”
“Well, I—”
“You mean you won’t even be here at the house?”
“No, I won’t.” He grimaced. “In fact, we won’t even be able to talk to each other while I’m working on this.”
She gazed at him for a long time, until tears rose in her eyes. “Is it jail?”
“What? No, I—”
“Are you going to jail, Dad?” She sobbed loudly. “Is that what’s really happening?”
CHAPTER 29
JURY TOWN
“Talk to me, Billy,” George Garrison demanded quietly but firmly as he shut his office door and headed back behind his desk.
Billy Batts came from the less privileged side of the tracks, as most of the guards at Jury Town did—education requirements weren’t rigid. Billy had also been in a bit of trouble, which most of the others hadn’t—and that made him the perfect accomplice. Garrison had done Billy a huge favor by hiring him—he’d kept the misdemeanor scratch on his record hidden from Wolf and Victoria’s keen eyes, so Billy was deeply indebted. These days that misdemeanor could have kept him in the unemployment line for a long time.
Garrison liked having a subordinate who was a little on edge exactly for this reason, always had—which Wolf didn’t know. In this business, earning some shady money was always a possibility. And the IRS didn’t need to know everything. Neither did Clint Wolf.
In fact, there was a lot Wolf didn’t know.
“Why wouldn’t the woman in the kitchen pass the note to Felicity West?”
“She’s terrified of being caught,” Billy answered, glancing at the nameplate staring him down from the front of the desk. It read, in gold letters, highlighted by black: George Garrison, Head of Guards. “It’s that simple.”
This was the first time they’d had a chance to meet face-to-face about the problem. Billy had called Garrison immediately to let him know what had happened in the parking lot when he’d approached the woman. But Garrison hadn’t wanted to stay on the phone a moment longer after getting the bad news. You
never knew who was listening to cell conversations, Garrison knew.
“Really?” Garrison’s bushy eyebrows creased tightly together as he eased into the chair behind the desk. He was a big-boned man with thick, hairy forearms who always wore his shirtsleeves rolled up above his elbows: it made him look no-nonsense. “That scared?”
“Oh, yeah. All of Wolf’s e-mails and speeches about being brought up on criminal charges for trying to contact jurors have everybody’s attention. And the woman said she can’t see through the slots when they put the trays of food on the conveyors. She said she wouldn’t have any idea if she was getting a note to the right person.”
“She’s lying. They can see out through the slots if they try hard enough.”
“Then that’s her point,” Billy said, “she has to try to see what’s going on. She’s worried she’ll be spotted if she’s obvious.”
“Did you offer the money?”
“Ten grand, like you told me.”
“And she still wouldn’t do it?”
“She thought about it for maybe three seconds, and then turned me down flat.”
“Didn’t you tell me you saw where she lives in Charlottesville?”
“Yeah,” Billy answered. “It’s not a great neighborhood.”
“And she has two little kids?”
“Her mother takes care of them when she’s working. I don’t know how the four of them make ends meet because the mother doesn’t work.”
“And she wouldn’t take ten thousand dollars in cash,” Garrison muttered. The young woman turning her back on the money was almost inconceivable to him.
“She was all about people watching people and Wolf’s warnings. Let me tell you, Wolf did it right.” Billy shook his head. “Hey, he brought you in, didn’t he? You worked for him at the Federal Bureau of Prisons, didn’t you?”
“Yup.”
“Well then you knew how thorough he was before he got here.”
At this point Garrison had been contacted by a second individual about influencing the Commonwealth Electric trial. An older, more experienced man this time, judging by the voice. Not just the blond punk who’d surprised him in a Charlottesville strip mall near his home. This second man was offering a hundred thousand dollars—fifty more than the kid had offered—so Garrison had a significant amount more to give and still keep most of the bribe for himself.
These were serious people trying to influence the Commonwealth Electric trial, Garrison figured. There would be more trials that would need manipulation; the older man had made that very clear, so there could be a great deal more money in this for Garrison if he could prove himself.
Garrison winced. But there might be problems for him if he couldn’t. The man hadn’t made any overt threats, but that was Garrison’s gut. It only made sense.
“We’ll try the cleaning people next,” he said.
“Am I offering ten grand again?” Billy asked.
“Yes.”
“Am I still getting ten grand?”
“Yes,” Garrison confirmed—which meant, if this worked, he could pocket seventy thousand. “I’ll get the schedule for the cleaning people from the admin assistant.” He was paying the admin assistant ten grand, too. “Be back here in thirty minutes, Billy. We’ll go over the list of cleaning people going into Wing Three this afternoon and figure out which one you’ll approach.”
“Got it.”
Garrison’s eyes narrowed as he watched Billy Batts disappear through the doorway. The rumor was that Victoria Lewis had been attacked in the driveway of her home by some very serious people—though she was trying to keep it all quiet. She’d not been injured in the chaos, but Cameron Moore had taken a bullet. Good if it was true. That should keep Victoria distracted.
Kate sat with Felicity and Wilson at a table in the Central Zone, eating lunch after a morning of testimony.
“Now do you believe me, Mr. Foreman?”
“Believe you about what?” Wilson asked, just before pushing the last bite of a delicious cheeseburger into his mouth.
“We heard the testimony of the guy driving the front-end loader this morning. He swore he got his orders to dump the coal ash into the river directly from the plant manager who reports directly to corporate headquarters in Richmond.”
Wilson shrugged as he finished the bite, as if he was losing the will to fight her. “I hear you,” he said, chuckling as he stood up. “You really want to be on the first jury to reach a verdict, don’t you?”
“You’re damn right I do.”
“Well, here’s what I want,” he said, pointing at Felicity, “I want a rematch tonight in pool.”
Felicity smiled. “Okay.”
“We’ll have a round-robin tournament,” Kate suggested.
“Sounds good,” Wilson called as he walked off. “See you back in the jury room in an hour. I’m taking a walk outside.”
“What’s your real angle?” Felicity asked, once Wilson had left.
“What do you mean?”
Felicity rolled her eyes. “You want to be on the first jury to reach a verdict blah blah blah. What’s the real reason you want to find Commonwealth guilty?”
Kate stared intently at her for several moments. “Do you believe they’re guilty?”
“There’s no doubt. They dumped the ash in the river on purpose, and a lot of people inside Commonwealth knew about it. Just to save a little bit of money. It’s disgusting. It’s evil.”
Kate nodded. “Okay, well I guess we’re keeping each other’s secrets, so here goes. I have a close friend from college whose family is from that little town, from Abingdon. They live right on the river, and that ash has ruined their property for years and years to come.”
“Oh.” Felicity shrugged. “Well, if Commonwealth wasn’t so obviously guilty, I guess I’d care.”
“What do you mean?”
“You shouldn’t be on this case if you’re biased.”
Kate waved. “Like you said, they’re guilty. What’s the big deal?”
Felicity leaned toward her. “You know, you should do a better job of hiding that stash of yours. Our wing is being cleaned this afternoon. You’re risking four million bucks if somebody finds that.”
Sofia Acosta slipped a spoonful of peach yogurt into her mouth as she sat alone eating lunch in the Central Zone. She couldn’t believe what she’d just overheard. The one named Kate had a friend in Abingdon who had been wronged by Commonwealth Electric. She wasn’t objective at all.
“My God,” Sofia whispered to herself, “the woman lied to get on that jury.”
CHAPTER 30
RICHMOND, VIRGINIA
“Okay, Victoria, you got me.”
Victoria glanced up from behind her desk as David Racine entered her office in downtown Richmond. “Good,” she answered, gesturing for him to bring her the contract he was holding. “Let me see it.”
“Don’t you trust me?” he asked as he handed her the document.
“I just want to make sure you got it notarized,” she answered as she thumbed quickly to the back. “Perfect,” she murmured, glancing up at him. “So, what did you end up telling Bart Stevens? I know you got a four-million-dollar offer from Mao Xilai. My investment banking contacts, remember?”
“What was I supposed to tell Bart?”
“The truth, I’m assuming.”
Racine nodded. “I didn’t have a choice. Look, if you want to shut this down right—”
“No, I don’t. I want you inside … and you know why. But I’m betting Bart wasn’t very happy.”
“He wasn’t, but what was my alternative?” Racine said stoically. “Xilai made it clear we couldn’t raise our salaries or take advances from the money he invested. I have debts, big debts.”
“I’ll have half a million dollars in your account by this afternoon. That better take care of your debts.”
“I need one more favor,” Racine said, his voice going soft. “It’s personal.”
“I’ll do that for yo
u,” she answered, when she’d heard the request. She rose to shake his hand. “Welcome to Jury Town. And remember our deal.”
“How could I forget?”
JURY TOWN
Billy Batts approached the cleaning woman as she emerged from her car in the satellite parking lot. He’d been prepared for the same reaction he’d gotten from the kitchen worker. But this older woman shrieked at the opportunity of cashing in on ten thousand dollars for simply placing a note under Felicity West’s pillow. So loudly, Billy had hissed at her to quiet down.
When the arrangement was complete and they’d split, Billy smiled to himself as he thought about giving George Garrison the good news—and making ten grand for himself.
Billy wouldn’t have smiled if he’d known he was being watched.
RICHMOND, VIRGINIA (WEST END)
Victoria knocked on the open bedroom door. “Claire?”
Claire had been staring out her bedroom window. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed as she turned toward the voice.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Of course, you’re Victoria Lewis. You were the governor of Virginia.”
Victoria nodded, impressed. According to Racine, he hadn’t given Claire any advance warning. “You’re a very informed young woman.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Your father and I are friends.” Victoria touched Racine’s arm. “Can you keep a secret, Claire? You must promise me you can.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Your father isn’t going to jail,” she said, crouching down to eye level. “That’s not why he’s going away. In fact, your father’s a hero. He’s working with me on a very important project that will help many, many people.”
Claire raced through the bedroom and threw her arms around him as he knelt down to catch her. “I’ll miss you, Dad.”
Racine hugged her back tightly. “I’ll miss you too, honey.”
Victoria watched them embracing, thinking how she’d clutched her father the same way the day he’d reported for prison. She was glad she’d agreed to do this. Not just to secure Racine’s help. But for Claire.