“What defense attorney would represent me?” “We’re kind of on opposite sides, and I’ve had most of them pretty mad at me more than once.”
“I’m thinking that wouldn’t matter,” Jessi said dryly. “Wave some green stuff under their nose, and the past will be instantly forgotten.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Mariana remained unconvinced.
“You could always find an attorney from out of the area.”
“I could but...” Mariana fell silent again.
“What other choice do you have?” You can’t keep up this feud with Ethan. Sooner or later you’ll lose.” Jessi then tried a little lighthearted humor. “I suppose you could change your identity and move to the other side of the country.”
“Believe it or not,” Mariana said, “I’ve considered that. But these days it’s becoming extremely difficult to effectively disappear. Unless you’re in the witness protection program, it’s nearly impossible.”
“Yeah,” Jessi said. “So, I guess it’s back to turning yourself in then?”
“I suppose.”
They discussed the difficult situation until well into the evening and finally Mariana agreed a full confession was her only real option. Jessi offered to accompany her for moral support, but her friend declined, saying this was something she had to do on her own.
“So, you’re going down tomorrow right?” Jessi persisted, trying to get a commitment.
Mariana’s first inclination was to say yes, but then she stopped. “No. I need to resign as the District Attorney first. Then, I’ll have to write out my confession for the County Commissioners. So, it’ll probably be after the weekend.” She spoke in a quiet subdued voice. Jessi couldn’t help but feel sorry for her friend. Whatever mistakes Mariana had made, it was obvious she’d never meant for things to go this far. “All right,” she said quietly, careful not to push too hard. “Let me know how it turns out. And if you need anything, call me.”
Hanging up, Mariana resumed her nervous pacing. Off the phone only a few minutes, she began having second thoughts. Every argument Jessi had made was right on the money, but was she ready to give up everything for which she had worked so hard? Everything she had achieved over the past twenty-some years?
Sitting down at the table, she stared mindlessly out the window. There had to be another way. A better way. A way that did not destroy her whole life, while still effectively eliminating the problem. The problem now being two-fold with both Ethan and Frankie.
Determined to make every effort to resolve the situation before submitting her resignation, Mariana decided to pay Mr. Arimante one more visit, hoping it wasn’t too late to call off the hit. “Tomorrow morning.” She promised herself.
There was still the matter of the decomposing body in her shed, a matter she chose to ignore for now. Tomorrow was looking as if it would be a hectic day and she didn’t need to be saddled with the extra burden of a low-life thug who was already dead.
Up early the next morning, Mariana was on her way downtown to see Frankie by seven o’clock. From the looks of things when she walked into the restaurant, it appeared he’d been expecting her. As she entered the nearly empty dining area, he immediately signaled to the others nearby, whisking them out of sight. This time, remembering his manners, as Mariana approached his table, he greeted her pleasantly and politely slid out a chair.
Mariana acknowledged the gesture with a cool, “Thank you.”
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,” Frankie began without giving her a chance to start berating him as she’d done before. “But from the look on your face, I’d say you already know about it.”
“What I know, is that Ethan is still alive,” Mariana replied evenly. “And the guy you sent to take him out is dead.”
Taken by surprise by the last statement, Frankie shot the D.A. a puzzled look. “What makes you think my guy is dead?” he demanded.
“His bloated body is lying on the floor my shed,” Mariana said bluntly.
This was news to the man and his face showed it. He’d assumed something had gone wrong, it’d been two days since he had dispatched Lou to Ethan’s house and he had heard nothing. But he hadn’t imagined the man could be dead. Mariana’s claim of the body in her shed was shocking and disturbing. But, he was confused. How had she known so positively it was Lou and how had the body ended up at her house?
As if reading his mind Mariana said, “Ethan called me yesterday afternoon to let me know he’d left something for me in the shed.”
Frankie nodded. That explained part of it. He raised an eyebrow peering intently at the D.A. “And the body is still there?”
Mariana shot him of look of disdain. “I’m certainly not going to move it.”
“I’ll send someone over to pick it up,” Frankie promised. “And I’ll personally attend to Mr. Rafferty.”
“Don’t bother,” Mariana said, her tone turning placid. “You’ve proven yourself incompetent.”
Frankie was instantly enraged. “The guy killed one of my men. It’s no longer a matter of just a job. It’s personal.”
Mariana understood the sentiment. It was the criminal code of justice. She could even appreciate it. She noted however, the man seemed to display no signs of grief, no remorse at the news of his friend’s death. Apparently, he felt no anguish, only anger toward Ethan for having inconvenienced him. She knew then it was too late to stop the hit, though she was still determined to try. “I’ve changed my mind,” she said. “Our deal is off.”
“Nobody breaks a deal with Frankie Arimante,” the big man boasted arrogantly.
“The deal, was that Ethan would be out of the picture in a week,” Mariana stated looking him in the eye. “I didn’t break it. You did.”
Abruptly, Frankie’s demeanor changed. The easy-going, pleasant nature was gone, as was the smile from his face. In a throaty voice he rasped, “You want to keep your job? And avoid an investigation into past cases?”
Mariana may have been a novice in the game of high-crime and negotiation, but she wasn’t entirely stupid. The not-so-subtle threat wasn’t lost on her; she understood the implication perfectly. Jessi had warned her this would happen. At any time, Frankie could take her down with the information he had. Information, which ironically, she’d willingly provided. It wasn’t exactly a position in which she wanted to be. She hated the thought of someone else, especially someone so low and underhanded, having control over her. This was blackmail! But she also knew there wasn’t much she could do about it.
Shrugging nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal, she said. “If you get rid of him, I’ll still honor our deal.”
Frankie continued staring, giving her the silent treatment. That was more like it, he thought. Then he nearly laughed out loud. This was too easy! Negotiating with an inexperienced female was like taking candy from a baby! Of course, in this instance, he did hold all the cards, but the perky little D.A. was the one who had dealt him his hand.
Mariana slid back her chair as if she were ready to leave. Frankie, feeling smug, now that he had won their dispute, once more assumed his hospitable air. Smiling a plastic smile, he thanked her for coming in and promised to have the body removed from her shed immediately.
“Do you need an address?” Mariana asked.
“We know where you live.”
She wasn’t sure his candid reply had simply been an answer, or yet another veiled threat. Standing, Mariana nodded to the man, and without another word walked out of the restaurant.
With the stench of cigar smoke permeating her clothes, she drove to work, hoping no one at the office would notice. If they did no one mentioned it.
The day slowly dragged by, each new case steadily creating more concern and a growing anxiety. Mariana’s mind was far away, consumed with fanciful thoughts of Ethan, Frankie, and the rotting corpse in her shed. This was like living with a time bomb, ticking away. At any moment, she expected it to blow up in her face.
Not being able to stand the suspense any longer, at ten mi
nutes until three, Mariana locked her desk, told Rachael that she had an appointment with Judge Bernstein, and drove home.
Pulling into the driveway, she saw more evidence of Ethan’s latest antics; at least three envelopes were wedged into the jamb on her front door. Climbing from the car, she walked directly to the shed and cautiously cracked the door, peeking inside.
The body was still there, looking even more disgusting than before! The swarming flies and hoards of maggots eating away the face of the dead man nearly caused her to gag. The acrid smell was horrendous, burning the inside of her nose and turning her stomach. Choking back a sudden urge to throw up, Mariana pushed the door shut and gasping for breath, ran into the house.
What had happened to Frankie’s men? Why was the decomposing body still there stinking up the place? She didn’t know, but she definitely intended to find out.
When she could again breath normally, Mariana slid into her car and made a quick trip to town. Mr. Arimante was about to discover how difficult she could make things for him. She was still the District Attorney—at least for a few more days.
Nearing the outskirts of the city, a gnawing and sinking feeling in her gut told her something was wrong. And whatever it was, she was sure she wasn’t going to like it.
Parking on the curb, a block away, she hurried down the walk to the small restaurant. The door didn’t budge when she tried to enter and looking through the glass, she could see the inside was dark. That was odd. The restaurant never closed as far as she knew. Where was Frankie?
Then, she remembered the man had said something about taking care of Ethan himself. “He must be doing just that,” she told herself, walking back to her car.
Despite trying to get the man to cancel their deal, the idea that Ethan may soon be pushing up daisies pleasantly appealed to her. And if the pictures he claimed to have in his possession turned up, she’d fight the issue in court, where she was comfortable and stood a better chance to win.
If Frankie was indeed on a mission of death, it looked like the man in the shed would be staying another night. She shuddered. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but if she stayed in the house, maybe the putrid smell wouldn’t be too unbearable. She made a face, curling up her nose. Just thinking about it was enough to bring the awful smell to her nostrils. “Ugh,” she grunted shaking her head.
As Mariana opened the car door, her cell phone, which she’d purposefully left in the vehicle, started ringing. Answering the call, Mariana listened in stunned silence as her secretary informed her she was urgently needed back at the office, and then explained why. A certain Frankie Arimante had been arrested that afternoon along with four others. All five were being held temporarily in the county jail. According to Miss Gooten, the sheriff wanted to speak with her as soon as possible.
All sorts of thoughts raced through Mariana’s mind as she broke every traffic rule in a frantic effort to get back to the office. What had Frankie been arrested for? Which agency had made the arrest? And more importantly, had her name come up? The only thing she knew for sure was that Frankie was not busy stalking Ethan as she had supposed. “Unless, that’s why he was arrested,” she wondered aloud. In a near panic, Mariana turned pale. “I’m dead,” she told herself. If Frankie believed she’d had anything to do with his arrest, anything at all, he’d be squealing like a stuck pig.
Parking on the street, Mariana took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, before going inside. Walking down the marbled halls of the courthouse, she saw a couple of deputies talking outside the Clerk’s Office. Seeing her, they nodded but kept up their conversation. “That’s a good sign,” she said under her breath. “They didn’t arrest me.”
Continuing to her office, as some of the anxiety abated, Mariana hoped to soon find out what was going on. The suspense was too much.
As Miss Gooten had said, the sheriff was waiting in her office. While he appeared slightly agitated, Mariana didn’t think he seemed mad or upset. Inviting him into her private office, she slid behind her desk and braced herself for the worst. Once the sheriff started speaking, she breathed a sigh of relief and finally got some answers.
She learned that Frankie Arimante had been the subject of a Federal warrant and arrested by the FBI. The Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department had assisted in the operation.
Less than half an hour after she talked with him that morning, federal agents had swarmed the restaurant, converging on Arimante’s headquarters. Raiding the “restaurant,” they had arrested Frankie on charges of drug smuggling, racketeering, and numerous other unlawful ventures. The other four men had been arrested for attempting to interfere. As Miss Gooten had said, all five were being held in the county jail awaiting transport to a federal facility.
Mariana listened intently as the sheriff detailed the events. When he was finished, she remained silent for a moment. Then, with a perplexed look, she asked, “So why did you call me back to the office? If this was all done by the FBI on a Federal warrant, it really doesn’t involve the District Attorney.”
The Sheriff reached a hand into his shirt pocket. “We found this in Arimante’s office,” he said, producing a small folded piece of paper. “It has your name and phone number on it.”
Mariana cringed. How was she going to explain this, she wondered.
The Sheriff reused her from her own thoughts. “I know Frankie testified for you a few months ago but we thought it was odd he still had your contact information lying around. We just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Smiling sweetly, Mariana shook her head slowly. “Thanks,” she said.
The Sheriff nodded and without another word walked out the door. Once he was gone and she was alone, Mariana stared thoughtfully out the window, trying to steady her nerves. So far, so good, she thought. The arrest had nothing to do with her!
Yet, she knew this wasn’t over. The man who held her career, her freedom, and maybe her very life in his hands, was in jail. An evil and vile man, a desperate man—a criminal. A guy who would sacrifice his own mother if that meant he could stave off a federal case or have a better chance to save his skin. And unfortunately, he had a doozy of a bargaining chip, thanks to her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ethan was bored. He wanted to do something big. Something memorable. Something catastrophic and calamitous. An act that would instantly grab Mariana’s attention, demand her obeisance, and make her tremble with fear. After dumping the body of the late-night attacker in her shed, the remaining items on his agenda, things he’d come up with while in prison, paled in comparison. Almost not worth his time and effort. Even the more devious pranks he’d envisioned no longer held much appeal. All in all, they seemed rather trite. And that’s why he was bored. He needed something to make a statement. A final statement. Something the lady wouldn’t soon forget. A grand finale, and then he could forget this whole thing. But, he was fresh out of ideas.
What he really wanted he realized, was to hear her admit what she had done. To see her own up to it, face-to-face. An honest and sincere mea culpa. And then, to beg his forgiveness. A request, he would of course, staunchly refuse. Then she could plead for mercy as he relentlessly tormented her. That hadn’t been his plan originally, but he realized it had always been his goal and the impetus of his scheming. And the reason he always felt let down after anything he did to the lady.
The happenstance killing of the hit man earlier in the week, and then dumping the body at her house had started Ethan down a whole new road. This was beginning to take on a life of its own, and he was just along for the ride, or so it seemed.
Seeing his phone laying on the counter, he thought about calling Mariana, but then frowned and let it go. Even that was getting old. Somehow, what used to be so exhilarating had lost its charm. He sighed wearily, it was all getting old, and he wished it were over.
His mind drifted back again. Back to a peaceful time. A better time. And a better life. A life of happiness and content. How he longed for that life now. And he wishe
d this whole situation was over. A life with Lacy was sounding more appealing all the time. He sighed knowing it could never be. He’d started down this road of revenge and he felt obligated to see it through. Almost as if he had no choice but was blindly following orders from some unknown force, obediently obeying his master’s command.
Yet, he knew it was all his own doing. Something inside him refused to let it go. It was a matter of principle. The one who had caused all of this had to lose everything—just as he had. No one else would hold her accountable for her misdeeds, of that he was certain. Because, no one cared, not the police, not the court, not even the judge; no one.
Determined to not let Mariana get away without some sort of punishment, Ethan turned his attention back to finding a way to force a confession out of Mariana.
A soft knock on the door interrupted his mind’s wandering and instantly he was at full alert. Was this another minion sent to finish what the last guy had failed to accomplish? Snatching up the heavy handgun from inside the cabinet, Ethan shoved the pistol into the back of his belt. Cautiously, he went to answer the door.
At first glance, through the tiny glass window on the door, he thought it was Sandra Lovell, the rich old lady who had served on his jury, but he quickly realized it wasn’t. Smiling, he opened the door.
The visitor was only a neighbor, Mrs. Kershaw, as she introduced herself. A kind old lady who wanted only a bit of friendly conversation with the newest member of the neighborhood. Or, in her words, “to meet the nice looking young man who had moved into the ‘Williams’ house.” Ethan assumed the Williams had been the previous tenants, but he wasn’t sure. As old as the woman looked, she could easily have been referring to the guy who built the house. Granted, the place was old, but not nearly as ancient as she appeared.
In the company of the elderly woman, Ethan made it a point to be polite and courteous, but didn’t invite her inside. They talked at the door, for close to twenty minutes, about the weather, the town and the neighborhood. And much to his dismay, in-between topics, Mrs. Kershaw gave him a detailed history of her life. He learned she’d been born in the house next door and had lived there all of her ninety-five years.
Miscarriage Of Justice Page 20