Tattered Justice

by John Foxjohn

  Darren’s eyes narrowed. He wanted to in the worst way. Needed that money, but it wasn’t in him to do what would be required of this amount. He opened it again and read the brief note twice. He looked up and rubbed his mouth a couple of times. He hesitated. “Actually, I’m not qualified for the job you want done. There are hundreds of people you could get who are better qualified than me and a hell of a lot cheaper.”

  The man nodded. “Again, you’re correct. But ask yourself this. How many of those people is and can remain close enough to Kayla Ann Nugent to accomplish the job?”

  Darren’s eyes closed for several minutes and the man never spoke. He needed this money not only for himself, but Kevin, too. His eyes snapped open when the car stopped. He glanced out at the entrance to his hotel.

  He’d never in his life done anything like this man now asked of him. Could he do it? He tapped on his legs for several minutes before he said, “Before I even consider doing this, I need to know who you are and why you want this done.”

  The man moved from the shadows and he’d done it on purpose, revealing his angular face, high cheekbones, and full mouth. Older than Darren’s initial thoughts, intense light burned behind the man’s eyes—not the fading light of someone in his age range.

  That face, the mouth, clogged Darren’s memory, and he’d seen it before, but where?

  “Who I am and why I am doing this is of no concern to you right now. You have the reputation of a man who gets results, Mr. Duval. I expect you to get this job done and done right.” His next words cracked like a whip. “Put the money away and do the job I hired you to do.”

  As Darren exited the limo, his legs trembled and he put the envelope in his pocket.

  He glanced at his watch. He had two and a half hours until he met Kayla Nugent. In that time, he needed to figure a way of getting close and staying close. He’d never get the job done any other way.

  * * * *

  At ten after two, Kayla’s intercom buzzed and Sarah Jane told her Loren Estes had arrived. It didn’t surprise her that the woman had showed up late. Her stomach rolled, colliding inside with her heart. She didn’t know if she could stand being around Loren long enough to get this interview out of the way.

  Would she lose her cool and yank all of Loren’s styled hair out? The possibility that she might left her nervous.

  Loren Estes opened the door and entered as she did anything else, a queen conferring with the peons.

  Kayla didn’t bother to stand and didn’t take the two hands Loren extended toward her. Hate boiled close to the surface as Kayla looked into Loren’s eyes. “Have a seat, Loren.”

  “Dear, is that all you have to say to me?”

  Kayla’s eyes flashed. “Let’s get something straight before we start. I don’t like you. I don’t want to be in the same room with you. I hate your guts and don’t have anything to say to you that isn’t related to your defense. This ‘dear’ stuff you like to pull doesn’t work here. If you don’t like this march your prissy butt out of here and tell your daddy you want someone else.”

  Unperturbed, Loren smiled. “You’re still mad at me.”

  Kayla clenched her hands together to keep them from shaking, or reaching across the desk and grabbing the bitch’s neck. She stood, spinning away, arms folded, and stared out the window for several long moments.

  Loren Estes showed she wasn’t stupid because she didn’t say a word. With her back to her, Kayla ground her teeth together and fought to regain her composure. At last, she spun round. “I don’t believe in you. As a matter of fact, I believe you’re perfectly capable of murder if it suits your desires.”

  Loren Estes leaned back in her seat. “That is harsh. Just because I screwed your husband doesn’t mean I kill people.”

  EIGHT

  Kayla slammed her office door so hard, pictures rattled as she stomped out.

  Everyone stared at her as she hurried to the restroom. Marvin, who stood by his office door, said something, but she swept by without paying attention. She needed to get away from people, and especially Loren Estes or she’d need a good attorney.

  Never in her life had she wanted to hurt someone as bad as she did that woman. The unmitigating gall to sit there and talk about sleeping with someone’s husband without any regard to the lives she’d wrecked. Never once had the bitch even apologized.

  Over time, as Kayla sprawled on the small sofa, her trembling subsided, but not her rage. While she washed her face, Sarah Jane entered and stood close with a concerned expression. She laid her hand on Kayla’s shoulder. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Few people knew Kayla’s predicament, but Sarah Jane did. A couple of years before, Sarah Jane went through a painful divorce and the two women had consoled each other, talking about the problems they had. Their shared pain helped both of them.

  They hugged. After a while, Kayla stepped back and took a deep breath. “Thank you.” She let out an audible breath. “I need to get this over with.”

  She marched back to her office, half expecting Loren to have left, hoping she had anyway, but the woman sat in the exact same place, same expression as when Kayla entered.

  Kayla flopped in her seat, took out a yellow legal pad she’d prepared questions on, and looked up. “If you killed this woman and tell me you did, I won’t put you on the stand if this comes to trial. If I put you on the stand and you perjure yourself, that obligates me by law to inform the court. I can assure you that I will, too.

  “Other than a confession, I need to know everything.”

  Loren Estes leaned forward in her seat. “You don’t need to worry about me confessing to you or anyone else. I have never killed anyone in my life.”

  Kayla didn’t know whether to believe her or not. But it didn’t matter. She had a client to defend if it went to trial. “Where were you Wednesday night when someone killed Michelle McCrery?”

  “I was at my house alone.”

  Kayla glanced up from her legal pad. “Your maid wasn’t there? Did you call anyone or did anyone call you?”

  “No, Mittie had the night off. I didn’t call anyone. My home phone rang a few times, but I let the answering machine get it.”

  Kayla’s mouth twitched as she twirled the pen. That had to be the reason the police seized her phone and answering machine. “Why didn’t you answer the phone and is this a normal habit to let the answering machine get it?’

  “I was working on a novel and didn’t want to be disturbed. I do this all the time.”

  Kayla frowned and anticipated what the DA might ask. “Weren’t you afraid someone might have an emergency and need to talk to you?”

  Loren straightened. “Is this an inquisition?”

  Kayla stopped twirling the pen and set it on the desk. She wished she could pawn this woman off on someone else. “Yeah, this is an inquisition and I need to know the answers. So, if you’re through with all your questions, answer mine. That is how this works. I ask and you answer truthfully.”

  Loren waved a hand. “Oh, okay. You don’t have to be so testy. Anyone who would call me with an emergency knows enough to call on my cell phone. No one did.”

  Kayla stood and stared out the window as traffic moved below, starting and stopping. Wind gusted against the pane, and she folded her arms. “You didn’t leave your house at all that night?” she asked.

  “Nope, I was upset by that silly lawsuit and stayed there all night and worked. I didn’t know anything had happened till the next day when the police disturbed me.”

  Kayla turned from the window and sat. “Tell me about this lawsuit over plagiarism of Michelle McCrery’s work.”

  “That has nothing to do with this.”

  Kayla rolled her eyes. “It has everything to do with this. Have you ever heard the term motive?”

  Loren stood and placed her hands on Kayla’s desk. “I didn’t copy that woman’s work. I have no idea how her story got to my editor with my name on it. All I know is, I didn’t send it. I’m telling you now
. No one can prove I plagiarized her work or killed her because I didn’t do it.”

  As Kayla stared at her legal pad, she clicked the pen open and closed, creating the only noise in the room. She needed to ask Loren Estes a question and it had nothing to do with her defense, but everything to do with her own peace of mind.

  Loren’s question brought her into the present. “Is that all you need to know for now?”

  When Kayla didn’t answer, Loren turned for the door. “Wait. I have one more question,” Kayla forced out.

  Loren spun around. “You want to know why I wanted you, right?”

  Kayla blinked and leaned back in her seat. There were so many things she could ask this woman, but how’d Loren figure out the one she’d ask? “You can have a team of the best legal defense attorneys in the world at your beckon call, but you want one with almost no experience, one that could care less if you’re found guilty or not.”

  Loren edged close to Kayla’s desk and chuckled. “We’ve known each other since we were six years old—thirty years. We were best friends for most of that time. I know you better than anyone does. I know you better than you know yourself. I know your greatest strength and your greatest weakness. They happen to be one and the same.”

  Kayla’s lips thinned and she jumped up. “You don’t know anything about me. What you said is totally ridiculous.”

  Loren smiled and pointed her finger at Kayla. “Your greatest strength is your loyalty. It is difficult to obtain, but once someone has it, it’ll never, ever leave you. You’re still loyal to your dead father and his memory. You’re loyal to Jimmy and there isn’t a thing in this world he could ever do to change that loyalty or make you turn your back on him.”

  Loren paused for a moment and Kayla stared at her desk. Loren continued, “You can say what you want to, try to convince yourself otherwise, but I knew you would not refuse this case. You will tell yourself that it is because a Nugent doesn’t quit, but that isn’t it.”

  “The truth Kayla, like Jimmy or your father, you could never turn your back on me.”

  Kayla’s head jerked up, but before she could say anything, Loren held her hand up to stop her. “I’m going to finish this. You would fight until your last breath to defend someone who has or had your loyalty. Now, please tell me where in this world I could find another attorney who would defend me with their last breath?”

  Tears streamed down Kayla’s cheeks as Loren spun and left.

  * * * *

  Kayla chose a quaint little out-of-the-way Mexican restaurant with good food. The invitation to Duval had come on the spur of the moment and was not like her. She liked to have things planned, and know the direction and consequences.

  Impulse didn’t play a part in her makeup and she couldn’t continue those actions—especially with him. He evoked too much emotion in her and she didn’t need passion in her life now, and probably not ever.

  At six, still with a lot of work to do, she bundled the paperwork up, stuffed it in her briefcase and rushed out. With downtown rush hour ending, she traveled to her condo in fifteen minutes. She debated what she wanted to do, but her tired muscles answered the question for her, and she took a hot shower, letting the water wash the fatigue away.

  For a couple of years she’d debated putting in a hot tub. Now, she figured she needed to stop debating and do it.

  She dressed in jeans and tennis shoes—she threw a lightweight sweater over her t-shirt. With a few minutes to spare, she listened to her messages. Two hang ups, one from a friend, but the last one from Jimmy brought a smile. All excited, he told her he’d found a literary agent, the agent had sold his manuscript, and he had a contract from a publisher.

  When she dialed his number, his excitement bubbled over. “Kayla, I finally did it.”

  Her spirit soared for him as he rambled on. When he paused for breath, she said, “Jimmy, I’m so proud of you. You deserved this after all the years of waiting. We need to celebrate.”

  “It happened so fast. Out of the blue. I tell you what a rush. I sent the full in to the agent, and wham. Next thing I know he wanted to sign me and already had the publisher lined up.”

  She smoothed her hair with a free hand. “See, I’ve told you that you had the talent and sooner or later someone would recognize it.”

  “Kayla, I hate to impose on you. I know how busy you are, but could I get you to look over the contract?”

  “Of course I will. However, intellectual property isn’t my specialty and you’d be better off talking to someone who specializes in these types of contracts.”

  He paused for a moment. “Is there anyone at your office?”

  She chuckled. “Several. Drop it off to me and I’ll have someone look at it.”

  “How much will it cost me? I won’t get the first part of my advance until I sign the contract. Aren’t the lawyers at your office expensive?”

  “They are, but I can get someone to look at it for you at no charge.” She couldn’t, but taking care of it for him was the least she could do.

  The doorbell interrupted their conversation. She told Jimmy she had to run and to drop the contract off in the morning.

  She answered the door on the second ring. Darren had changed shirts but still had those tight trousers on. She stepped aside and asked him to come in.

  He stopped inside, letting his gaze sweep the room. “You must have a good maid.”

  Her brow crinkled. “Maid? I don’t have a maid. Haven’t had much of a chance to clean.”

  “Uh-huh, it’s spotless. You do your own housework?”

  “I like cleaning house. It gives me a chance to think. Give me a minute to get my purse.”

  As she scooted to get her purse, he said to her back, “You must do a lot of thinking.”

  * * * *

  Darren drove to the out of the way restaurant with Kayla giving him directions. When they entered, the restaurant only had two occupied tables and the waitress seated them in the back corner. While they looked at the menu, she brought water, a basket of chips, and two large bowls of salsa. Kayla ordered iced tea and Darren coffee, black, no sugar.

  When the waitress left, Darren glanced over his menu. “What’s good here?”

  Kayla sipped her water, trying to push his physical appearance out of her mind. “If you like fajitas, they have some of the best. That’s what I usually get.”

  He folded his menu and laid it down. “Actually, that’s what I’ll have then.”

  In an attempt to get her mind traveling down a different channel from his sex appeal, she asked if he’d found anything.

  He reached down and opened a small carrying case. “You might be interested in this.” He extracted a manila folder and handed it to her. “I believe you can make some use of it.”

  When she glanced at the contents, a low whistle escaped through her mouth. She glanced up. “Where’d you get this?”

  Their conversation stopped when the waitress delivered their drinks. He took a sip of the coffee and put his cup down before answering. “In cases like this, I first attempt to find the rumors floating around. If I find juicy ones, I follow them up.”

  Kayla drank from her tea as he continued. “In this case, the rumor said that the victim’s husband had a girlfriend, the wife knew it, and had filed for divorce. I ran into a guy who works for McCreary’s attorney.” He pointed at the papers. “If you look at the date, they filed the divorce papers the morning someone killed her.”

  Kayla, her mind now far from her attraction to him, reached into her purse and pulled a pen out. She set the file on the table and looked up. “Who is the girlfriend?”

  “Actually, I don’t know yet, but I’m looking for her. All I know is her name is Chandra. I think she works at the PD.”

  Kayla wrote the name down and twirled the pen with her left hand. She stopped and said, “Please let me know when you find her. I’ll need to deposition her. I’d prefer to get a hold of her before the DA.”

  He nodded, then puckered h
is lips. “Something has me puzzled. Why did the police go straight to Loren Estes? Something had to take them there first instead of looking at close family.”

  The waitress, with a large tray of steaming food, interrupted the conversation. Kayla fixed herself a fajita and bit into it, savoring the taste. When she swallowed, she replied to the question. “Uh-huh. A lot of attorneys making money on the day Michelle McCrery died. That morning, her publisher filed a lawsuit against Loren for plagiarism.”

  His eyes widened. “That explains some things. The attorney that filed the divorce papers also filed a restraining order against Loren Estes. With his client dead, no one served the papers.”

  They ate in quiet for several minutes before he said, “Actually, I also have something else I don’t understand.”

  With frown lines at the corner of her eyes and mouth, it took several moments before she realized what he’d said. “What’s that?”

  “Loren Estes has more money than she can ever spend. She can do anything she wants to—go any place, why is she writing books?”

  Kayla removed the napkin from her lap, wiped her mouth and put it back. The way he said more money than she could ever spend caused Kayla to pause in her thinking—not the words, but the almost reverent way he said the word money. Was he one of those who thought money could buy happiness?

  She hoped not, and knew from her own experience, it didn’t. She had a little money, made a great salary, and a nun had a more active social life than she did. She had no one to blame for that but herself—the same with her husband cheating on her. No, that wasn’t right. She’d played no part in that. Her husband and to a lesser degree, Loren caused the cheating and divorce. She needed to stop kicking herself for other people’s actions.

  She took a calming breath. “You answered your own question. She can do what she wants. All her life, she has wanted to be a great writer. She went to the best writing schools, and doesn’t need to worry about making a living. All she has to do is concentrate on writing. Besides, money doesn’t buy happiness.”