“I’ll call back.” Dupree was suddenly embarrassed by the call.
“No, you won’t. What’s going on. You never call anymore.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Being a one-man-band is pretty demanding.”
“I bet, and since you can’t pop into my office you thought you’d call for a swim in my vast reservoir of knowledge.”
“Something like that. Have you ever dealt with or heard of Brian Bruntnell? San Diego?”
“Why? He just kick your ass?”
“You could say that.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell. I’ll ask around.”
“Hey, you gonna play or what?” The voice came through like Dupree was talking to the angry opponent.
“I’ll let you go. I’ll give you a call soon. I promise.”
“Yeah right.” Marty shifted his attention. “Keep your shirt on! This is important. Gotta go. Take care.”
That wasn’t what Dupree hoped for. He set the phone in its cradle. He leaned back in his chair and tried to figure out how he missed the damning zoning clause.
* * *
Dupree opened his eyes, the clock on his bedside table read 2:30 a.m. his cell phone was humming and walking its way to the edge of the nightstand.
“Dupree.” He shook his head in an effort to wake up.
“Sorry to disturb you, but we have a Marshall Peterson here at the jail. He claims he works for you.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“We arrested Mr. Peterson when he tried to kick open the downstairs door of your building. He managed to set off the alarm at Olson’s Stationery store.”
“And you are calling me at 2:30 in the morning because—?”
Dara sat up and turned on the light next to her side of the bed.
“Well, he claims he works for you.”
“He serves papers.”
“Yeah well, he says he was trying to get upstairs to your office to go to sleep. Is that a normal practice?”
“It certainly is not!”
“So, I take it you will not be coming down to pay his bail?”
“On what charge?”
“Drunk and disorderly, disturbing the police, resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer.”
“Let him rot.” Dupree turned his phone off preventing any additional attempts to reach him.
“What was that?”
“Marsh got arrested for trying to kick in the door downstairs. He told the cops he was going upstairs to sleep. Just what I want to do. Kill the light would you please?”
Dara snapped off the light and snuggled up to Dupree’s back and put her arm around him. Before long they were both sound asleep.
CHAPTER 15
“Your 1:30 is here.” Tomi handed Dupree a file folder with the name Jon Curry on the tab.
Dupree opened the folder and glanced back up at Tomi. She was grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of his reaction. “This is a joke, right?”
“I don’t think so. Mr. and Mrs. Curry are both here.”
“Show them in.”
Tomi turned to the couple seated in the front office. “Please, come in. Mr. Dupree will see you now.”
Dupree stood and rounded his desk to greet the couple with a smile and a handshake. “Please have a seat.”
The couple gave each other fierce looks before being seated. Jon Curry was what can only be described as average. Average height, average weight, and neither handsome or unpleasant to look at. He was in a word, average. His wife, on the other hand, was stunning.
Mrs. Curry looked every bit the model on the cover of a magazine or the leading lady in a movie. She did not wear a lot of makeup but she radiated a beauty that started with her big brown eyes. The curve of her face led to her perfect chin with a slight cleft. A dimpled smile was made all the more dazzling by her perfect teeth. Her hair was long and parted in the middle and possessed a slight wave. The slightest hint of caramel is the only way to describe her flawless skin.
The guy must be loaded, Dupree thought to himself before speaking. How else could Mr. Plain White Bread land such a beauty?
“So, what can I do for you today?” Dupree forced himself to give each of the Curry’s equal eye contact.
“I want to sue and divorce my wife.” Jon Curry didn’t change expression.
Dupree looked at his wife for a reaction. She was looking down at her hands resting in her lap.
“Alright. Is this a mutually agreed upon decision? I must say it is rather unusual for a couple to both come to a divorce filing conference.”
“No.” The wife spoke for the first time.
“Well, you should!”
“Let’s stay calm, shall we? Why’s that, Mr. Curry?” Mr. Average was beginning to look like a bully.
“She is an adulteress. A cheat, a liar, whatever legal description you want to give it.” Curry was barely containing his rage.
Dupree looked at the beauty sitting before him. Her eyes were flooded with tears.
“That is a very serious accusation. Do you have proof of that?”
“Like what? I don’t need proof. I have a four-year-old.” Jon Curry’s anger was overflowing and his voice was beginning to rise.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow. Mrs. Curry, have you been unfaithful?”
She looked up, tears streaming down her face. “No.”
“Liar!”
“Look, I asked nicely for you to maintain a calm tone and lower your voice. If I have to ask you again this meeting will be over. Do you understand?” Dupree sat up taller and leaned forward. “I will not tolerate belligerence, shouting, or rudeness in my office.”
“Sorry.” Curry’s words rang hollow.
“What makes you think your wife has been unfaithful?”
“Our kid.”
“Daughter.” Mrs. Curry raised her head and shot her husband a fierce glare.
“So, you have a daughter. Mrs. Curry how old is she?”
“She’s four, almost five.”
“That’s a fun age.” Dupree was doing his best to put the woman at ease.
“Yeah, well ask her who the father is. It sure as hell doesn’t look like either one of us. Explain that, Sandy!”
“You are, Jon.”
“That is the ugliest kid I have ever seen. I’m embarrassed to be seen out in public with her. She looks like no relation of mine. I have watched since birth trying to see me or her in that kid.”
“That is a pretty cruel thing to say about a child. Looks come from a lot of factors. My daughter doesn’t look like her mother or me. But, she’s mine and I love her. I can’t stand her sometimes, but I love her.”
“That’s fine and good but I can’t get past her big nose, crooked jaw and big ears.”
Sandy began to sob.
It was all Dupree could do to keep from telling Curry what he thought of him. “Let’s do this. Mr. Curry, why don’t you wait in the outer office? I’d like to speak to Sandy alone.”
Curry stood and stomped toward the door.
“And close the door.” Dupree turned and got a tissue box from his credenza. “Here you go. Would you like some water?”
“Yes please.”
Dupree picked up the phone and hit the intercom button. “Can you bring Mrs. Curry a bottle of water? No, thanks.”
“Your husband is pretty upset. I have to ask; does he get physical with you?”
“Just screams and calls me names.” Sandy wiped her eyes and blew her nose as politely as she could.
The door opened and Tomi came in with a bottle of water and a napkin. “Here you are.” She handed the bottle to Sandy. “Anything else?”
Sandy softly said, “No thank you.”
Tomi looked at Dupree and he shook his head.
As the door closed behind Tomi, Dupree began again. “Can you think of any reason your husband could question your fidelity? Close male friends, work associates?
“He won’t let me work.”
“Jealous?”
She looked Dupree in the eyes and he knew at that moment there was more to the story.
“What’s going on, Sandy? You have my word it won’t leave this room.”
“It’s me.” Streams of tears ran down her beautiful face. “It’s all me.”
“How do you mean?”
Her tears turned into uncontrollable sobbing. “I, I …” Dupree waited silently for the wave of emotion to pass. There was something deep, something painful that needed to come out. He feared the worst.
After several minutes of painful silence, Sandy finally looked up. “Before Jon and I met, years before, when I was nineteen, I had facial surgery. Lots of surgery. The deformity of my face was the same if not worse than Millie’s. There is a name for the syndrome but I have tried to forget it. I have tried to put it all behind me. I had no idea I could pass it to my children. I want more children. I love Millie so, but I know that until she stops growing surgery is not possible.”
“You’ve never told your husband?”
“Why?”
“I was afraid he wouldn’t love me. I grew up in Vermont. I have no family. Who was to know?”
“How long have you been married?”
“Almost nine years.”
“And for five years he’s been abusive.”
Sandy nodded.
“People are more than a pretty face. You are truly beautiful. But more than that I can see you are a caring, loving mother. Do you want a divorce?”
“No, I don’t believe in divorce. I took a vow.”
“Part of that is being truthful.” Dupree put his hand over his mouth.
“What can I do?” The pleading in Sandy’s question cut Dupree to the heart. It was a sincere cry for help.
“Let’s tell him.”
“I can’t. What do I say?”
“The baby looks like me. I had plastic surgery. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to not tell you, I was afraid. I love you. I love Millie. How’s that for starters? Use any or all or none. Say what’s in your heart.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“If that’s what you want. Look, he seems like a very proud man. Are you prepared for what his reaction might be? It could all go south really quick. Are you open to him leaving you?”
“If he hates our child just because of the way she looks after I confess? I will leave him.”
Dupree rose from his chair and went to the door.
“Jon, will you join us please?”
“What’s going on?”
“Sandy has something to tell you. If you are any kind of man at all you’ll keep your mouth shut until she finishes.” It was evident that Dupree would not be trifled with.
Jon stared at Dupree for a long moment. He started to speak but thought better of it. He took a seat next to his wife.
“Go ahead.”
“I have never been unfaithful to you Jon. I love you. Millie is your daughter just as sure as she is mine.” For the first time since they came into the office, she was looking Jon in the eyes. “When I was nineteen, I had facial reconstruction surgery. Before that, I looked like Millie, but worse. It is a genetic condition, not her fault. Mine, and mine alone. I had no idea it could be passed on to our children. I was naive, stupid, unfair, name it what you wish. I regret not telling you, I am so sorry, and I hope you can forgive me.”
“What are you telling me?” Jon’s voice was cold and cruel.
“I’m telling you this face you are so proud of is the work of Dr. Jacob Bloc of Boston.”
“So what? You’re some third-rate Kardashian?”
“Enough. Not another word from you.” Dupree was quickly veering outside his usual unflappable demeanor. He was angry and having a hard time controlling it.
“I can understand if you are angry. We were so happy. Can’t we try to put this right?” Sandy’s tone changed from pleading and defensive to confident.
“Put it right? Like they say you can put lipstick and pearls on a pig and called it Sandy, but it’s still a freak.”
Dupree jumped to his feet. “Get out!”
“This is my appointment. I want a divorce. She needs to go. I am the offended party here.”
“I would give up law before I would ever represent you. You, offended? You are quite possibly the most offensive brute I have ever met. Get out of my office and never come back.”
“She has nothing. No job, no house, no car, savings, nothing. She owes everything to me. I control it all! Good luck getting paid!”
“Tomi, call the police!”
“Alright, alright. I’m out of here.” Jon Curry turned and marched toward the door. As he opened it, he turned and gave Dupree the middle finger, and said something no one heard.
“Are you alright?” Dupree directed his attention back to Sandy.
“He’s right, I have nothing.”
“That my dear lady is about to change. I will strip him of everything he thinks he owns.”
Sandy Curry and Dupree spent almost two hours conferring on the divorce action, support for Millie, health insurance and any and all future medical costs incurred by her condition. Dupree assured Sandy she would come out of the disillusion of the marriage in sound financial condition.
When she left Dupree was exhausted, emotionally and physically.
* * *
“I’m going to run downstairs. I’ve run out of staples. Do you need anything?”
“I’m good thanks.”
Tomi enjoyed going to Olson’s Stationery if for only a breath of fresh air and a change of scenery. The bite of crisp, cold air felt good on her face and in her lungs. She stood for a moment looking up and down both sides of the street. It was nice to not see snow for a change. The sky was a bright blue and the sun shone brightly. She almost hated to go into the store.
“Afternoon!” Peter Olson called from between two racks near the back of the store.
“Hey there.” Tomi waved at the young woman behind the counter. “Hi, Cindy!”
Tomi made her way toward the stapler and hole punch aisle. As she entered the center aisle dividing the store an unfamiliar voice called out to her.
“Tomara?”
Tomi turned to see a woman with a panicked expression coming up the aisle towards her. She was vaguely familiar. No one called her Tomara except her grandmother and teachers on the first day of class.
“Tomara French, right?”
“Yes. Do we know each other?”
“No, not really, we only met once. I was Mr. Dupree’s secretary at Ecomm, then Kanaal for a bit. Melinda Thompson?”
“Of course, I’m sorry.”
“You were pretty upset the day we met. I was told that you work for Mr. Dupree, is that right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Right upstairs.”
“I was on my way there. I am a bit rattled and I ducked in here to gather my wits. I don’t want him to see me in this state,” Melinda’s voice showed the signs of fear.
“Is there anything I can do?” Tomi was hoping she could hand her over to Dupree as soon as possible. The woman’s behavior was making her quite uncomfortable.
“Will you go up with me?”
“Sure, of course.” Tomi sensed an urgency in Melinda’s demeanor that warranted her full attention. “Cindy, I’ll be back in a little while. I just needed a box of staples.”
“Go ahead. I can wait.” Melinda said.
“You sure? It’s no big deal, really.”
Tomi quickly grabbed the staples and signed a tag and they were on their way up to the office.
“Dupree? I have a surprise visitor!” Tomi called from her desk.
“Melinda! What a surprise.” The jovial tone quickly left Dupree when he saw the concerned look on his old secre
tary’s face. “Come in, come in.”
Melinda silently took a chair in front of Dupree’s desk.
“What’s going on? Are you OK?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just a bit rattled.”
“What can I do to help?”
“You’re representing the teacher, right? The one who sent…allegedly sent, the dirty pictures to the kids at the high school?”
“David Weston. Yes. Why?”
“He didn’t do it.”
Dupree was stunned by Melinda’s words. “What makes you say that?”
Melinda gritted her teeth and scowled. “Because I know who did, Leif Carlsson and his buddy Justin Schneider.”
“Explain.”
“He is sloppy about leaving his door open. He thinks he rules the world. After lunch, they all came back a little tipsy and were laughing and joking about “doing another Weston” on somebody. They were so loud and obnoxious I couldn’t help but hear. Mr. Hagerman, he’s new, didn’t understand the Weston reference.” Melinda was becoming calmer as she told her story.
“They explained the whole thing, how they hacked his phone through his service provider. They’re a Kanaal client. Where they got the pictures, then the disgusting pig described in drunken detail what the men in the pictures were doing to the boys.” Melinda’s voice cracked and her emotions bubbled up.
Dupree picked up the phone. He ran his finger over the scribblings on his desk calendar. Finding the number he needed, he punched in the number.
“Detective McCourter, please. Adam Dupree, tell him it’s urgent. Yes, thanks.” Dupree looked at Melinda. “You’ll testify?”
“Of course.”
“Yeah, right here.” Dupree wrote a number on his desk pad, and hit the switch hook, then dialed McCourter’s cellphone number.
“McCourter.”
“Detective, this is Dupree. I have a witness and names of the people who sent the pictures David Weston is being accused of.”
“Where are you?”
“My office.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
CHAPTER 16
Dupree met David Weston at the desk at the jail. He was ruffled and unshaven.
“How ’bout I drive you home?”
Weston walked out of the jail and to the car without speaking. The ride bristled with unspoken rage.
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