“Yes, yes. Just went down the wrong pipe.” She continued to cough.
Returning to my chair, I resumed the unnecessary conversation. “Listen Mr. Carson, I know all about Dylan Morgan.” His eyes went wide and his mouth opened to say something, but I interjected. “No, no, no, not in the biblical sense,” I clarified. “Girls just seem to flock to Dylan. He is, without question, a handsome man.” My hands were waving in the air to emphasize my point. “From what I hear,” I continued with my index finger poised in the air, “he is well aware of the effect he has on most women. What I can confirm to be true is, he has no moral standards for the women he chooses to spend time with.” I looked in Georgia’s direction. “Judging by the lack of greeting he extended to me, and the fact he took a porn star into the bathroom for a quick…romp.” I censored, needing to be careful with my language. Ms. Georgia was a lady after all. “I highly doubt I registered on his radar.”
Carson leaned back in his chair, his eyes confirming the confusion his lack of words were telling me. “Besides,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I have a date tomorrow night with Sean O’Leary.” I tried desperately to hide the excitement in my voice. After my run in with Dylan, I was more than ready to get the hell out of there. Sean caught me, as I was about to leave and asked me to go to the Jazz festival on Monday.
“Dr. O’Leary?” Georgia gasped, putting her hand on my arm.
“One and the same.” I smiled as I took a sip of my tea.
“See, George, I told you she was a smart girl.” Georgia was the only person who called Mr. Carson by his first name. For the first few weeks I was around them, I thought it was Carson.
“Of course she’s a smart girl.” He leaned over to kiss my forehead. “It’s my job as her adoptive father to keep an eye on her.”
Carson and Georgia were the type of people I wished my parents would have been.
“Listen…” I grabbed Carson’s hand. “I love the fact you work so hard to protect me, but trust me, I have a lifetime of great examples of what I don’t want from life.” Georgia silently wiped a tear from her eye, as Carson rounded the table to hug me. “You don’t have to worry. Dylan Morgan will never be interested in me.”
Friday night, and a full moon in Charleston, was a guaranteed combination for a busy night. From the moment I checked in, I was on the move. Everything plus one came through those doors—from vehicle accidents to college pranks gone wrong. No matter where you lived in this country, when your friend said, “Hey, watch this.” Get ready for a trip to the emergency room.
Shayla and I worked together on Monday night, I didn’t know how she was able to work a busy night shift then stay out all day hanging out. When she came in for her shift, she was all-aglow about a new guy she met the day before. “I’m telling you, he wants me to meet his family.” Her cell phone was glued to her ear as she told the unlucky caller all about the new fuck in her life. “Listen, I’ve got to let you go, but he wants to get together tomorrow night.” She stood in the middle of the walkway, twisting her hand around in the air and rolling her eyes at what the caller was saying. “Whatever bitch,” she snapped and ended the call.
“Hey, Claire.” She walked around the desk, tossing her phone on the Formica and her drink behind the desk phone.
“Shayla,” I responded, not making an effort to be friendly.
“Hey, I heard something yesterday.” She tapped her red nails that resembled the kind Portia had the other night, in an annoying rhythm on the countertop. I wondered briefly if they got a two for one discount on those things. Was there a frequent buyer card; a punch every time they added another layer of trashiness?
“Oh really?” I’d play…
“I heard you and Dr. O’Leary were going out.” Her tone was disbelieving, her face however, had malice written all over it.
“Yes, he invited me out to see something local.”
The corners of her mouth turned up and the devil himself would have backed away by the look in her eyes. “Listen, Claire.” She moved in closer, placing those red fingernails on my arm. “Don’t make this into something it isn’t.” I tilted my head slightly, my brows wrinkling in curiosity. “He’s just being nice. His interest in you is only as a friend.” She rolled her eyes at the mere thought I could catch the eye of a wealthy and fine doctor. I turned to walk away, not bothering to make a comment against what she said—her opinion didn’t matter to me in the least.
“Hey, I’m just trying to be a friend.” I turned back, her lips now wrapped around her straw. “He has a serious girlfriend back in Ireland.” She shrugged her shoulders as she placed the cup back in its place. “Don’t believe me, ask him.” She pushed past me, knocking her shoulder into mine as she left the area.
As hard as I tried to ignore what Shayla had told me, I couldn’t. There was no way I would ever be anything more than a friend to a man who was in a relationship with another girl.
Cheyenne and Shayla could do it with ease; I wasn’t made the same way. If what she said was true, I would be forced to cancel. Truly, the only way to find out would be to ask him. Since this was his weekend off, I would have to text him. He had the next week off, as Dr. Gillman was back to work; which incidentally made Kitty happy.
Kitty had been feeling guilty about the attack. She had been running around like crazy during the trauma earlier and she didn’t get time to eat. Since the cafeteria was already closed, Dr. Gillman had gone across the street to get her something to snack on. When he came through the doors the other day, he’d received a standing ovation, followed by a tight hug by Kitty. They stayed locked in each other’s arms, whispering words only they could hear. The renaissance romantic in me, hoped it would be confessions of how much they cared for one another.
Dr. Gillman was another strikingly handsome man, with his dark curls and brown eyes. His kind personality complemented his rugged good looks. He, like Kitty, was nice to everyone. There was just something extra special in the way they looked at one another, too. Almost as if they were memorizing everything about each other, saving the image for the times they were apart.
I had put off texting Sean long enough. It was well after dark and I knew he would either be in bed soon or at his family bar and unable to hear his phone. I decided to seek out Shayla, hoping to take a quick break and settle this girlfriend issue once and for all. However, the trauma line sounded, the red indicator light flashing overhead. Never a good thing, to have happen.
Dr. Gillman slid into the area, which housed the phone and radio, doing an awesome impersonation of Tom Cruise in Risky Business. After he identified himself, he looked to his watch and then to me, listening intently. After the call, he set the receiver on the cradle, his face now serious. “Claire, ambulance is five minutes out, attacker and victim on their way.” He crossed the floor in my direction. “We are going to need your expertise with this one.” His hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing sharply. I closed my eyes tightly, shoulders slumping in dread. I knew what was on its way and why they would need me. For now, girlfriends would have to wait.
The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively.
~ Bob Marley
“Motherfucker!”
I tossed the remote to the television in my office as anger finally reached its boiling point. My weekend had been shot to shit; unable to sleep and yet so goddamned tired.
Saturday, my brothers called me up and asked me out to my parents’ house to do some target shooting. My mood got the better of me and I shot like a bitch, only hitting the target twice.
Austin had wanted to take us to lunch, so we hit up a dive bar north of town. They had the best chicken wings in the world and he had been craving them. Chase received an email from Harmony on the way to the bar. He had asked her for her cell number and told her he was in town. He didn’t hear from her until we dropped him off later that night, or rather early Sunday morning. We managed to get inside the
bar in time to take the last table. Three waitresses flew around the room, dropping off pitchers of beer and hot, fried wings, but not a one of them was worth a second look.
We ordered enough wings to feed a small country and a pitcher of beer each. Pre-season football played on the televisions, but we ignored it, opting to take the rare opportunity to catch up. “Chase, how are things in the sand box?” I asked around a bite of wing.
He didn’t look up as he answered, not missing a single sliver of meat on the bone. “Fuckin’ hot, dry and on my last nerve. No time or opportunity to do simple shit like this.” He pointed at the table, picking up his glass, drinking over half his beer down.
“When’s your time up?”
“Not soon enough. I’m due to re-enlist toward the end of the year. It’s more money for me, but…” He shrugged his shoulders. This was new, Chase loved being a Marine.
“Are you considering getting out?” Austin chimed in, his glass raised to drink.
“I’m always weighing my options.” His tone gave us the unspoken warning this was all he was going to say about it.
“What about you? Kill any super viruses?” Chase tossed back at Austin.
That was just how we were, always picking at one another. On the other hand, should someone outside our circle say some shit about one of us, they paid the price.
“I’m working on a new program. Hope to have it ready by the first of the year,” he admitted, wiping his face with a paper napkin.
“Oh yeah, what’s this one gonna do?”
Austin told us all he could about the new program he was working on. Something about an ever-changing password for banks and corporations. Computers were never my thing, which explained why he went to MIT and I didn’t.
“What about you, Dylan? Arrest any real criminals?” My brothers felt Charleston lacked the crime found in say, New York or LA. I wasn’t about to answer them with words, flipping them off instead.
“What about the redhead from last night?” Austin wiggled his eyebrows. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you two coming out of the men’s room together. You seeing her or something?”
“Who and what I do in the fucking bathroom is no concern of either one of y’all.”
Chase held up a completely clean chicken bone and looked right into Austin’s face as he said, “If a man is using a knife and fork to eat chicken wings, then chances are he doesn’t know how to eat pussy either.” My fork hit him in the chest; too bad his shirt was black and left no stain behind.
Sunday morning my father called to tell me Granddaddy’s will was to be read Monday afternoon. He made me swear I would clear my entire schedule. I told him I would be there.
First thing Monday morning, Celia called to say her husband had been taken to the Emergency Room with chest pains and been admitted. I asked if she needed anything and to call me with any updates. So when I arrived at the office, I thought for sure my day couldn’t get any fucking worse. Yet, waiting for me in the center of my desk, where there should have been nothing, were three cases I had worked on. Each with good, solid evidence, and every single fucking one of them thrown out of court on a motherfucking technicality. I turned on the news and watched as Lardo walked down the courthouse steps, a fucking grin on his face as if he’d won the fucking Nobel Peace Prize, that cocky bastard, Anderson at his side.
My pissy mood needed to be resolved before I reached Dad’s office. My momma wouldn’t hesitate to slap the taste out of my mouth if she got the notion. One sure fire way to push in the right direction was to hop on my bike. The skies were clear and the weather mild, all perfect combinations for a good ride.
When each of us turned thirteen, Dad took us to a wrecking yard and let us pick out frames from a motorcycle made the year we were born. Every chance we got, a part was purchased with money we earned around the house. Dad and Granddad would help us put it together and by the time we were sixteen, we each had a fully restored bike. I loved her, the only girl outside of the family I could say that about. A cherry red, Harley Davidson Heritage Softail, completely customized and in perfect working condition. Over the years I’d had to replace the motor a time or two, but she was still the same girl I worked on all those Saturdays ago. I’d purchased two other bikes since then, but this girl, she would always be my favorite.
Chase and Dad were waiting outside the elevators when I walked in. A new security guard stood beside Ms. Gloria, the greeter and operator. She had been with the firm since the day the doors opened and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was the one who closed the door when they tore down this building.
Momma sat between Austin and Ms. Marilyn. Granddaddy VanBuren had been married to my nana for over forty years. Upon her death, he hired Ms. Marilyn to keep house and keep him company. Three years ago, Momma sat them both down and told them it was all right to show their feelings for one another. Nana was a kind spirit and wouldn’t have wanted Granddaddy to be lonely. Last year, we started calling Ms. Marilyn, Nana.
“Momma.” I crossed the room to kiss her pale cheek. She might have shown a brave face at his funeral, but once she was alone, the dam had broken.
“I’m glad you’re here, sugar.” She squeezed my hand as she kissed my cheek back.
“Nana.” I kissed her powdered cheek, tossing in a hug because I knew she liked it.
“Your granddaddy was so proud of you for taking those scallywags off the street.”
Nana Marilyn was the epitome of a Southern lady. Her hair was always fixed; her standing appointment at the beauty shop was never missed. Her clothes always included a set of pearls and red lipstick.
“Thank you, Nana.”
Once everyone was seated, Norman Edwards, an attorney from the Estate Department of the law firm, began. Granddaddy made certain there would be no arguing over property. We all knew before he died who would receive which pieces of his property. This meeting was really just to give a final farewell.
Mr. Edwards pulled out a remote and pointed it at one of the monitors in Dad’s office. Everything was listed under each of our names, with Mom getting the bulk of the estate and Nana Marilyn receiving the home they had shared together. He’d also given her an undisclosed sum of money, to keep those beauty shop visits happening.
“Always take care of the women in your life. Give them a little money for clothes and perfume, you will benefit in the end.”
I would miss his words of wisdom, although anything related to women I’d never need.
“Gentleman, in the last six months, Mr. VanBuren took out an additional life insurance policy. He instructed the proceeds be split between the three of you.” Mr. Edwards, with his oil slicked hair, pin striped suit, and glasses dangling off the tip of his pointed nose, looked at all of us in turn. “Each of you will receive one hundred thousand dollars.”
After everyone left and the sun began to set, the three of us took to the roof of my dad’s office building. Chase pulled out a bottle of Hennessey, just like Granddaddy used to do. We sat silently looking over the horizon, watching the boats go by in the river.
“He always had a plan, didn’t he?” Austin spoke to no one in particular.
“Remember the time he brought that new Cadillac and took us for ice cream?”
Again, silence filled the air, all of us too afraid to blink or move for fear of his death being real.
“Dylan, you decided you wanted to take the car for a ride, but you couldn’t reach the pedals.”
“I remember Daddy trying to wear my ass out after they finally got the car to stop before going into the pond. Granddaddy came over and promised I would have my whole life to drive a car, to take time to enjoy just being a kid.”
Chase drained the last of the bottle and tossed it as far as he could after we all said a “see ya later” to Granddaddy.
Standing beside my bike, Chase and Austin checked it out as they always did when I got it out. “What are you going to do with your share of the money?” Austin asked Chase.
�
��Stick it in the bank, have a little something to buy a ring or a house.” Here we go, Chase already marching down the aisle.
“What about you, Dylan?”
“I’m gonna find a way to buy five more years with him.”
Austin and Chase were both flying out later in the evening and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, life did go on. Short goodbyes were always our style, a simple hug and a crude exchange of words. I watched as Momma’s tail lights disappeared into the darkness.
Not ready to head home or back to the office, I chose instead to take a walk. The Charleston streets would be quiet this time of night, giving me the needed atmosphere to really think. Having three cases in a row get thrown out by overpriced attorneys whose job it was to twist the truth to fit their needs, and leaving victims bled and broken in their wake, was weighing heavy on my mind. Why bust my ass every fucking day just to have these criminals back on the street before the sun went down? How much money was being wasted in holding cells and court costs? Before I realized it, I found myself outside the college library. Stone lions guarded the doors, which held all the vital information necessary for the students. Touching the cold stone that made up the lion’s paw, I tossed around the notion that these pieces of stone had a better chance of protecting Charleston than I did.
I was about to head back to my bike when I heard it, a muffled scream. At first I thought it was the wind, you could feel the temperature change with an impending storm brewing. I listened once again and closed my eyes, concentrating. I heard not only another muffled scream, but a male voice telling someone to “shut the fuck up!”
The buildings were situated in such a manner that they provided only one area where a person could either hide or try to escape. Rounding the corner of the building, I saw him. Fighting with someone on the ground, stood a man. I watched as he reared his fist back three quick times, hitting whomever he had pinned down. The closer I got, the clearer they both became.
Absolute Power (Southern Justice #1 Page 7