“His name’s Graylin Alexander, Daddy. He’s in two of my classes. I don’t know how he got my picture, Daddy. I promise.”
“Where was the picture taken?” Percy asks. “Has anybody even seen it?”
“I don’t know,” Kennedy sniffs. “LaShay said they arrested him because he had it on his phone. Daddy, I’m so embarrassed!”
“Sweetie, you know you can tell us anything, right,” Percy continues to push. “You haven’t let some boy take pictures of you, have you?”
“Percy! Are you out of your mind?”
“Look, Simone, we have to ask. One of my law partners found out his daughter was sexting a boy at her school. She was only a year older than Kennedy.”
“What that little fast girl did has nothing to do with my child.”
“No, Daddy. I didn’t sext anybody, I promise.”
“We know you didn’t,” I tell her. “I’ll have Zala make you some chamomile tea. Zala, get in here!”
“I don’t want any tea!” Kennedy sobs. “I just want to go to bed and never get up again!”
Our Ethiopian au pair scurries into the room, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Do you know anything about this?”
“About what, Mrs. Carlyle?”
“Some kid had a naked picture of—”
“That’s enough!” Percy yells. “Zala, this doesn’t involve you. Please help Kennedy to her bedroom.”
Zala takes Kennedy by the hand and walks her out of the room.
I’m not happy with Percy right now. “Why in the world would you interrogate your own child like she’s some hostile witness?”
Percy rubs his forehead. “I’m just trying to understand how this could’ve happened. Maybe it’s a fake picture. Her head on somebody else’s body. That’s pretty easy to do on a computer.”
“Whether it’s fake or not, we’re suing that school and that boy’s parents.”
“We’re going to handle this,” Percy says. “But let’s not make a federal case out of it.”
My head rears back like a stunned cobra. “What did you say?”
“Let’s wait until we have all the facts. I’m not sure suing anybody is the best thing for Kennedy.”
“Oh, this is interesting. Mr. Big Time Lawyer sues people every day of the week, but wants to run and hide when his daughter’s reputation is on the line.”
“My daughter’s reputation is exactly what I’m thinking about. A lawsuit means publicity and publicity will only cause more embarrassment for Kennedy. We need to address this quickly and quietly. Can we please focus on what’s best for our daughter rather than your penchant for payback?”
“I guess you also expect me to sit back and do nothing while you continue screwing your little associate.”
Percy stands up. “I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m not seeing anybody. Jesus Christ! Your constant badgering me over this nonsense is exactly why I left.”
My husband moved out three months ago claiming we’d grown apart. He’s supposedly been working on a high-profile securities fraud case with a junior associate at his law firm—a thirty-something Latina. The fourth time he came home after midnight, I stopped accepting his excuses about the complicated brief or the burdensome discovery responses. What angers me most is Percy’s refusal to admit that he’s having an affair.
“We should put her in a new school,” Percy says.
“I don’t want her at any school right now. We can homeschool her.”
His brow arches. “Really? So you’re going to be around to do that?”
“You’re not going to make me feel guilty for having a career. Zala can make sure she gets her work done every day. I’ll review all of her assignments. If I’m out of town, we can Skype.”
“That’s just like you. Job first, family second.”
“How dare you—”
Like always, Percy is out of the door before I’ve had a chance to say my piece. I hate the way he so easily dismisses me.
I grab my cell phone from the table near the door and start scrolling through my contacts. We’re major campaign donors and have a ton of important political connections. And I’m about to call in some favors.
That little hoodlum Graylin Alexander deserves to be in jail for what he did to my child. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that’s where he ends up.
CHAPTER 13
Angela
Thirty minutes and two wrong turns later, I finally make it to Eastlake Juvenile Hall. The only parking spot I can find is almost a block away.
From a quick Google search, I learn that Eastlake—also referred to as Central Juvenile Hall—sits on more than twenty acres in the Boyle Heights section of Los Angeles. It’s the oldest youth detention center in the country, established back in 1912. Most of its residents are black and Hispanic. Only about twenty percent are female.
A security guard waves me through a metal detector, while a different one checks my purse. I’m barely inside the tiny lobby before Gus and Dre rush up to me.
I give Gus a hug as I squeeze Dre’s hand. Gus has a burly build and is just under six feet. He and Dre did time together at Corcoran State Prison. Since then, they’ve both committed to a crime-free life and now team up rehabbing houses.
“Jenny should be here any minute. She’ll explain how everything works and get us in to see Graylin.”
Just then, a tall, slim white woman with shoulder-length auburn hair steps through the metal detectors. As she heads our way, she walks with a lawyer’s confidence and has the polished prettiness of a TV news anchor.
“Are you Angela Evans?” the woman asks.
I nod. “And you must be Jenny Ungerman. Thanks so much for getting here so quickly.”
Jenny’s wide brown eyes and pert smile convey a friendly, easygoing vibe. After short introductions, we all sit down and Gus starts bombarding her with questions.
“How soon can we post bail and get him outta here? And why were those cops talking to him without my permission? I don’t understand how—”
Jenny raises her hands. “Mr. Alexander, I know you’re concerned about your son. But we need to discuss a few things before we proceed.”
Gus sighs, then nods.
“First, my retainer to handle Graylin’s case through adjudication is twenty thousand dollars. If there are any special hearings, it could be more.”
Dre and Gus pin me with a stupefied look that says, This chick is all about the money. But Jenny is doing what she has to do. When you’re a defense attorney, your fee has to be the first order of business. If the client can’t afford you, there’s no need for any further discussion. Attorneys don’t work for free, especially not the good ones.
“What’s adjudi—what’s that mean?” Gus asks.
“That’s what a trial is called in the juvenile system.”
Jenny’s fee is a little on the high side, but not outrageous. “Would you be willing to accept a small retainer, and the rest via monthly payments,” I ask.
“As a professional courtesy to you, I’ll do that. But I’ll need a cashier’s check for five thousand dollars before making my first court appearance.”
I pull Gus and Dre off to the side. “Twenty friggin’ grand?” Gus says. “Are you kidding me?”
“Can’t he get a public defender?” Dre asks. “It ain’t like he’s facing a felony or something.”
“I know some great public defenders, but you don’t get to choose the one you want,” I tell them. “From everything I’ve been told, Jenny’s worth every penny.”
“I’ll kick in,” Dre says to Gus. “And I know your sister Macie will too.”
Once Gus tells Jenny he’d like to proceed, she pulls a retainer agreement from her satchel and says he should call her if he has any questions about it.
“
Now, to your questions,” Jenny begins. “First, there’s no bail for juveniles.”
Gus’ forehead creases. “I can’t bail him out? How long will he have to stay here?”
“The lack of a bail system is a good thing. Unless a kid is accused of a violent crime, has trouble at home or a prior record, he’ll usually be released to a parent or guardian.”
Gus leans back in his chair and exhales. “So I can get him out of here tonight. Thank God.”
“I didn’t say that,” Jenny says. “We won’t know for sure until I speak with one of the detention officers.”
“Graylin’s a good kid,” I say, hoping to reduce some of Gus’ anxiety. “I’m sure they’ll let him come home.”
Jenny fixes me with a scorching glare that I don’t quite understand. This is Graylin we’re talking about. He’s a model child. Of course they’re going to let him go home.
“What I wanna know,” Gus says, “is why those cops were interrogating my son without my permission. They should’ve—”
“The police don’t need parental consent to question a minor in California.”
This time, Dre speaks up. “For real?”
“That’s always a shock to parents,” Jenny says. “And the school also doesn’t need probable cause to search him, just reasonable suspicion, which is a much lower standard. Did a teacher take his phone?”
“We don’t know,” I say.
Jenny directs her attention to Gus. “Mr. Alexander, I need to explain something else that’s sometimes a little difficult for parents to understand. Even though Graylin’s a minor, if you hire me to represent him, he’s my client, not you.”
Gus cocks his head. “And what exactly does that mean?”
Jenny forces a smile. “It means that even though you’ll be paying my bill, my only obligation is to Graylin. I can keep you updated about the case, but only to the extent Graylin allows me to do so. And to be completely clear, I’ll be following Graylin’s directions, not yours.”
Both Gus and Dre look over at me as if I’m pranking them.
“That’s nuts,” Dre says. “Graylin’s just a kid.”
I jump in to head off a confrontation. “Let’s listen to everything she has to say. What else, Jenny?”
“You shouldn’t have any substantive conversations with Graylin about his case. There’s a privilege between husband and wife, but not between a parent and child. If Graylin admits something incriminating, you could be compelled to testify against him.”
The creases in Gus’ forehead deepen into crevices. “Lady, don’t talk to me like I’m stupid. Even if Graylin did tell me something, I’d never testify against my own son.”
Jenny shows no reaction to Gus’ hostile tone. She’s obviously done this dance before. “I couldn’t allow you to lie under oath, Mr. Alexander. So, it’s best that you don’t have any knowledge of the underlying facts.”
“Are you saying I can’t even ask him if he did what they’re accusing him of?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
Gus glares at me again. “And this is who you want to represent my son?”
I place a hand on Gus’ forearm. “Let’s just get Graylin out of here tonight and take it from there.”
Jenny stands up. “Let me go see if I can make that happen.”
Dre waits until she’s out of earshot. “Are you sure this chick knows what she’s doing?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
We stand in a huddle for another thirty minutes before Jenny returns. The stern look on her face telegraphs that she doesn’t have good news.
“I’m sorry, but they’re keeping him here until his arraignment and detention hearing. A judge will have to decide whether he can go home.”
Gus’ face tightens with tension. “And when is that going to happen?”
Jenny pauses. “Detention hearings have to be held within forty-eight hours of arrest, not counting weekends. Since this is Friday, he probably won’t see the judge until Tuesday.”
“Are you kidding me?” Gus shouts. “He has to stay here for four friggin’ days!”
In seconds, the security guard darts across the lobby and is standing only inches from Gus. “Is there a problem here? You’ll need to keep your voice down, sir.”
“I’m sorry, officer,” Jenny says with a stiff smile. “Everything’s fine. I had to give this father some disappointing news about his son and he’s understandably upset. We’ll keep it down.”
Gus rubs his forehead.
“Why are they keeping him?” I ask. “What happened?”
“When a kid is charged with certain crimes, remaining in custody until the detention hearing is mandatory. They’ve added a second charge.” She briefly looks away. “Making a criminal threat.”
Gus slumps into the nearest chair and doesn’t say a word.
Dre blinks several times. “What criminal threat?”
“An anonymous note started all of this. It said Graylin threatened to beat the girl up and embarrass her by putting her picture on Instagram.”
“I know my kid,” Gus says. “And that’s not him. How can they lock him up based on some anonymous note?”
“Like I said,” Dre repeats through clenched teeth, “what criminal threat?”
“I know it sounds crazy,” Jenny continues, her tone apologetic, “but in this day and age of sensitivity about bullying, when a kid threatens to beat up somebody and embarrass them on social media, it’s considered a criminal threat under the California Penal Code.”
Nobody says a word. Jenny wisely gives us a few seconds to let this sink in.
“But I do have some good news for you, Mr. Alexander.” Jenny smiles for the first time.
Gus slowly raises his head.
“They’re going to let you see him. In fact, Graylin’s waiting for you right now.”
CHAPTER 14
Bones
I try not to slow down too much as I ease past the little girl’s house for the third time. The front curtains are closed, so I can’t tell if anyone is even home.
I decided to get a jump on things rather than wait until tomorrow morning. So after picking up Willie’s Escalade, I got a bite to eat and headed over to Compton.
This gig is posing a problem I didn’t think about and, I assume, neither did Willie. Kids don’t play in the yard like they did when I was coming up. That’s why most of ’em are fat slobs. No exercise. That girl is probably inside with her eyes glued to a computer screen.
I park the Escalade near the east corner of Magnolia Street behind Mario’s Fish Market and climb out. I’m wearing my black jogging suit, so I don’t look out of place as I stroll down the street. I’m just a guy getting some exercise. I gotta remind Willie to dress down when it’s his turn to follow the girl. All his fancy duds will draw attention.
I walk casually past Brianna’s house but on the opposite side of the street. It’s still early afternoon and the house looks quiet. I don’t see a car in the driveway, but it could be in the garage.
An old Mexican woman opens her screen door and steps onto the porch of the house next door. She’s checking me out and I’m checking her out too. Nobody knows their neighbors these days, so for all the woman knows, I live in the neighborhood. Our eyes meet. I smile and wave. She doesn’t wave back.
I’d planned to make a U-turn at the corner and walk back on Brianna’s side of the street to see if I could get a look into the backyard. I change my mind because of that nosy neighbor and make a right and head down the next street, circling the block to get back to Willie’s Escalade.
I open the window, light a cigarette and call Willie.
“I don’t know how we gonna snatch this kid,” I say. “Kids don’t play in the yard these days.”
“What are you doing over there now?” Willie huffs. “I told you to wai
t until tomorrow.”
“I just wanted to check things out. I’m still comin’ back in the morning.”
“Get there early enough to follow her walking to school.”
“Man, we gotta come up with another way. Kids don’t walk to school no more. Her mama probably drops her off and picks her up too.”
“You don’t know that for sure. Anyway, let me think on it.”
As I hang up, I feel something cold and hard jammed against my temple. My cigarette tumbles into my lap.
“Don’t move, motherfucka! Put your hands on the steering wheel!”
Damn! I can’t believe I’m about to get robbed by some crackhead. I’m too afraid to turn my head to look.
“Look, man, I ain’t got no money on me. So you wastin’ your time.” I feel the lit cigarette burning a hole through my sweatpants. I rub my legs together to snuff it out.
“I saw you walking up and down the street, like you casing the place. Look like you was doing a whole lot of staring at one house in particular.”
The blood drains from my fingers. Was I that obvious?
“Dude, I don’t know what you talkin’ about?”
“What you doing in this neighborhood anyway?” the man demands.
“I was takin’ a walk. That’s all.”
“Keep playing stupid if you want to. You drove over here just to park and walk up and down the street? Don’t they have streets where you live?”
This crackhead is asking way too many questions.
“Man, people are probably watchin’ us. I bet they’ve already called the police. I would hightail it out of here if I was you.”
“But you ain’t me. Take one hand off the wheel and give me your wallet. And don’t try anything stupid because I’d love to blow your head off.”
When I hand this fool my wallet, he looks at my driver’s license then tosses the wallet back into my lap.
WTF?
“Okay, Johnny Battle, I got a message for your boss.”
“My boss? I ain’t got no—”
The man cracks the gun against the side of my head so hard that my eyes roll around like two marbles fired into a wall.
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