by Mitch Goth
“This is fantastic.” Ezra grinned, looking at the news story of Megan’s disappearance at the hands of the RV killer on the small TV sitting in the prison commons. It wasn’t quite the news anyone on the outside expected or wanted. But to Ezra, this was like winning the greatest lottery in the land.
Not many inmates were interested in the news, but not one of them spoke a word about changing the channel. Ezra saw it in their faces; they were all scared of doing anything. To Ezra, it felt good to be feared. The more the bastards of the world avoided him and ducked away when he came around, the more successful he felt. In the army, all they ever did was shoot back at him, now they dropped their guards to him and cowered away.
“Grazer,” a guard said as he walked into the commons, “your visitor is here.”
“Splendid.” Ezra got up and followed the guard out of the room and down the hall.
“I’m sure you're aware of all the private meeting rules."
“You are correct in that assumption.” Ezra paused outside the door to the meeting room and held out his hands so they could be shackled to his person. It was quite the annoying routine in his mind, but he understood the necessity for it. To the world, he was a dangerous man, and the public ought to be protected from dangerous people.
As the guard swung the door open, Ezra sprouted a sunny smile. He knew what he wanted, how to get it, and how much leverage he had now. His smile was met with a deep scowl from across the table as he entered the room, but that didn't waver the joy in Ezra's face.
Sitting down on the other side of the table was the suave lawyer that had accompanied Kellen, Carlton. Ezra had called him there. He saw in the lawyer's face he wasn't happy, but Ezra wasn't sure why.
"Why'd you bring me here?" Carlton snarled.
Ezra sat down across from him. "I would've come to you, but that is easier said than done."
"Enough jokes. I'm not staying here unless you talk seriously."
"You'll stay."
"Why is that?" Carlton inquired, feigning curiosity.
"Because a life is riding on you staying and listening to what I have to say."
Carlton was silenced by this. It puzzled Ezra that Carlton would even feign leverage, but Ezra didn't dwell on it. There were more important issues.
Ezra nodded, continuing on. "I am aware of Megan Mickelson as much as you are. Now, and you ought to trust me on this, if you want that girl returned to her family alive and well, or at least alive, I would suggest doing what I say."
"You have said nothing," Carlton sneered. He wore a defensive face, like a cat backed into a corner by a playful dog. "If her life truly depends on what you say, I would suggest you talk. What is it you want from this?"
"You know what I want. I can see it in your face. That uneasiness, hoping that what you're thinking isn't the case. I will do you a favor now and alleviate your worries. It is exactly what you're thinking."
"What am I thinking?"
"I wouldn't ask for any reduction in sentencing, because no politician would go for that in exchange for some advice, and I don't want to be exonerated. That would just be preposterous. So that would just leave one thing on the plate I would enjoy having, that would help this situation, that isn't outside the realm of reality."
"Yes it is," the lawyer hissed. "You won't get it, not while I have anything to say about it."
"I'll will get it, and you will be the one to say it." Ezra cocked a smart smile. "You ought to know when to put your weapons down. This girl will not survive unless I get what I want. You've got less than two weeks, hop to it."
"Fuck you."
"Come now, Carlton. You're close with the governor, I know you are. You can get it quickly if you tried. But more than I know that, I know you're a family man." Ezra recalled seeing the prosecutor's wife and children at his high-profile trial. "I can only imagine what Megan's family is going through, much less her. Beaten down, held in some deep, dark trench of this state. Cold, alone, weeping every second of the day. It must be a horror for her." He saw the lawyer's blood boiling. "It's in your hands, my friend. Don't turn this girl's horror into her death. Don't make that grieving family live on without their daughter. It's all on you now. Make the right choice."
"You're a psychopath," Carlton said through a ruby-red face and shaking hands.
Ezra pondered for a moment. "I think you're still sore over the way I wiped down the court room with your pride that half-decade ago. So I'll give you this chance to make it all better. If you give me what I want, I do what I want to do with it, and she still dies at the hands of this killer. You can let the governor give me that death penalty you wanted."
"That's against the law."
"Yes, yes, double jeopardy and such. But I'm sure that big lawyer brain of yours can come up with a reason for a mistrial, especially with my odd defensive actions. A killer without a defender, winning so much, so easily. Sounds like jury tampering or bias to me." Ezra raised an eyebrow to the lawyer. "That's my offer, Carlton. This is your chance to either save a good life or take a bad one. A true win-win."
He watched Carlton's demeanor change. The redness in the man's face faded. In just a few moments it was all back to normal. His glare of hatred melted down into a stare of intrigue. This was not just some feigning interest either. The lawyer was in deep thought. This was good in Ezra's mind. If he could sway the counselor's mind he would get what he wanted.
"Any thoughts, counselor?" Ezra inquired.
Carlton rubbed his forehead. "Let's talk about it."
Ezra grinned. "Splendid."
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