Southern Harm

by Travis Casey

  Conrad stood rigid. "I'll see if he's available."

  "If he's not available, tell him it would be in his best interest to make himself that way."

  Once Conrad left to find the governor, Louie made himself at home, turning over a vase sitting on a marble top pedestal and looking at the bottom of it.

  "This is a nice joint, ain't it, Oscar? I wouldn't mind a place like this."

  "I thought you were more comfortable in West Louisville."

  "For business. This would be for pleasure. Shall we have a scotch while we wait?"

  "We can't barge in here and drink the governor's scotch," Oscar protested.

  "Sure we can." He motioned for Oscar to follow him into the parlor. "Me and Judd are old friends. I know where he keeps the good stuff." He marched up to a sideboard with numerous bottles of liquor on display, eyeing over the selection with subtle groans of indecision. "Ah," he finally exclaimed. "Here we go. An eighteen-year-old Laphroaig. That will do nicely." Louie poured himself one. "Oscar?"

  "It's not even noon. No thanks."

  Louie raised his glass. "Suit yourself."

  Oscar took a seat on the couch while Louie circled the room, scrutinizing everything from the Lladro china figurines to the vast collection of books on the built-in bookcase.

  The governor burst in, looking edgy. "Gentlemen, what brings you to my domain?"

  Louie wiggled the rolled-up drawings. "I have something you'll want to see, Judd—or should I address you as Governor, as this is a matter of business?"

  "My business meetings are conducted by appointment only, Mr. Gomez. Call my secretary to see when I'm available. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm very busy today. Good day." He gave a sharp nod. "Conrad will see you out." The governor turned to depart.

  "I wouldn't dismiss me so fast if I were you, Governor. But as you just have, and because I take offense easily, let's make it personal. I have something else on the agenda." The threat in Louie's voice was evident.

  Davenport spun around, his lips tightly pursed together. "I'll give you two minutes, Gomez, then you're leaving." Davenport directed his next dart at Oscar. "Are you part of this?"

  "No, sir." Oscar said, beginning to stand up.

  Louie waved him down. "That's okay, Oscar. You can stay. Since we're partners, you may as well hear this." Louie raised his glass. "Would you like some of your scotch, Governor? You'll find it comforting."

  "You're down to a minute and a half. What do you want?"

  "As we've discussed, two acres of Harris State Park. That's what I want." He raised the drawings in his hand. "I have it all mapped out here. Whether it ever gets built or not is a different matter. We'll have to see what happens once we get the foundations dug."

  Davenport stood with his hands behind his back. "I haven't had a chance to tell you yet, but I'm putting the kibosh on the project. It's too involved, and quite frankly, I can't see why you and Oscar don't just buy up another piece of land down there and build on that. But Harris is out of bounds. And that's my final word."

  "No, Judd, it's not. The land I need is specific to the project, and here's why." Louie closed the gap between him and Judd. "Your daughter, and her presence here, has piqued my interest. So much so that I hired an ambitious journalist to do some digging. And my-oh-my, what she found is pure gold." Louie smirked. "And you would not believe the irony of that statement."

  Oscar got in the middle of what was clearly a situation on the verge of getting out of hand.

  Louie continued talking. "Apparently Miss Davenport has quite the temper. I've witnessed it myself when she nearly attacked me, but I assumed she was having female problems."

  Davenport stepped in, eyeballing Louie tightly. "Watch it, Gomez. You're treading on thin ice."

  Louie stood toe-to-toe with Davenport, unfazed. "Miss Davenport had to sit idly by while a man she prosecuted on child abuse charges got off on a technicality. In fact, it was because of information she collected illegally that the case was thrown out by the judge. She should have known better than to interview a detainee who had not been read his Miranda rights."

  The governor's face tightened. He spoke through clenched teeth. "Where'd you get all this?"

  "Oh, it wasn't easy, but with the right contacts, you can get anything you want—as you well know, Governor. And congratulations. You did an impressive cover-up. I compliment you."

  "What's he talking about?" Oscar asked.

  Davenport waved away what Louie was saying. "Don't pay any attention to him. He's talking so much shit he needs an Imodium to shut him up."

  Louie turned to Oscar. "You must have noticed your girlfriend's violent tendencies, haven't you?"

  Oscar couldn't collaborate a known criminal's assessment of his girlfriend in front of her father. There were no valid points to be had in her defense, so he took the only other option—he lied through his teeth. "Can't say that I've noticed." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Judd grin in approval.

  "Then you've been lucky. Going back to the trouble in LA—apparently, Miss Davenport lay in wait outside the acquitted man's home and beat the shit out of him with a tire iron. She couldn't put him in jail, so she put him in a coma."

  Oscar's jaw dropped. "What? You're not serious."

  "Oh, yes, I most certainly am."

  Davenport remained stone-faced.

  "Luckily for her, the cop who took the statement from the victim—that is, the perv himself, who now lay in the hospital—had the hots for Miss Davenport. So rather than arrest an LA prosecutor who was metering out justice to a man who deserved it, he covered it up. Reports disappeared, and Miss Davenport was advised to not be around when the shit hit the fan. Then a cover-up Richard Nixon would have been proud of began, and Judd here was at the center of it. Is that about right, Governor?"

  "I don't know where you got this, Gomez, but this is the biggest cock-and-bull story I've ever heard."

  Louie put his drink down and paced the room. "Melanie Harper has been worth every penny. She spoke to Kenny Huber, who had the inside track on prison gossip—and a DA is always a topic of conversation in the joint. Kenny told Miss Harper everything. That's where I got it. However, proving it in a court of law would be expensive, time-consuming, and troublesome. Make no mistake, I would be willing to invest in those things to see justice done, but if we work together, I might be more inclined to accept things from your little girl's perspective. Is she a hero or a horror? That's what I've got to decide before I go to the cops and make this official. At the moment, it's just between the reporter and us. My palms are so dry." He rubbed his hands together. "It's age, you know. A little greasing would make all the difference."

  "That doesn't make any sense." Oscar injected, still reeling from what Louie had told them. "How could Stacey just up and leave and come to Kentucky without a trial if she did all that? And she's hardly keeping a low profile here."

  "Collusion, my dear boy." Louie dipped his head toward Davenport. "Judd is good friends with the governor of California. Together, and with the help of a few police officers, the perverted victim became the object of a violent mugging by an unknown perpetrator. However, Stacey was a risk. It was agreed that she would leave California to avoid the firing line. What better way to cover up her misdeeds than by putting her side-by-side with a governor? Who could possibly accuse a governmental advisor of violent crimes?"

  Oscar stared in disbelief.

  "Of course, Melanie and I had to fill in some blanks ourselves." He shook his head as he smiled. "I'm telling you, that girl missed her calling. She's a regular Columbo. Did I leave anything out, Governor?"

  The governor looked him in the eye. "What do you want?"

  "I want an acquittal—no, no, that's not true. I want an outright dismissal before the trial begins. You're good at rigging the legal system, eh, Judd?"

  "That's not my call."

  "I'd say your daughter owes you an enormous debt of gratitude. Once you present the evidence to her, I'm sure she'll be able to
find cause for a dismissal."

  The governor hardened his look. "If I make this go away, how do I know you're not going to print it anyway?"

  "I'm not out to smear you, Governor. Or your daughter. That is not in my best interest. In fact, I'd like us to have a long, prosperous relationship. You keep me out of jail, and I keep you and Stacey out of the papers and in this lovely mansion." He opened his arms wide. "What do say, Judd?"

  The governor sized him up. "And I'm supposed to put my trust in a gangster and a gossip columnist?"

  Louie raised his hand in an oath. "I'm a man of my word. I made a deal with Miss Harper which I intend to honor, and now I'm making one with you. I agreed to pay her handsomely to inform me—not the public. If, however, I do find myself in jail, she will print every sordid detail, and I'm sure Miss Davenport will be hauled in front of a grand jury, along with any coconspirators."

  "If I get you the dismissal, is that it?"

  "No, I still want Harris State Park." Louie walked over and slung his arm over Oscar's shoulder. "Oscar and I have a kids' facility to build." He looked at his watch. "I do apologize, Governor. I've taken far more than the two minutes you graciously allotted me. I will leave the drawings for you to approve."

  Judd glanced at the rolled-up drawings on the counter. "I'll have a look at them."

  "Splendid. And now, I have some business to tend to before my big day. I have to be in court in the morning, in case you hadn't heard. However, I'm optimistic that will be the only day I have to spend there." He smiled and winked at the governor, then nudged Oscar. "We should go. Thank you, Governor. I'll be in my office later today, should you have any questions. Cheerio."

  Louie raised his hand in a backward wave as he and Oscar left.

  The governor walked over to the liquor cabinet, grabbed the bottle of Laphroaig, and poured himself a drink—a large one.

  Conrad appeared after a polite knock. "You best get ready for your one o'clock meeting, sir."

  "Yeah," Davenport sighed. He raised the glass to his lips, tossed his head back, and downed the whiskey in one swallow. He pointed to Louie as his figure disappeared down the corridor. "If that son of a bitch ever shows up again—shoot 'im."

  Chapter 39

  Oscar's eyes shifted between the road and Louie as they sped along the interstate. Louie didn't seem to notice the stolen glances. He sat filing his nails as they drove along.

  Oscar couldn't take it anymore.

  "Did I just witness you blackmail the governor?"

  "Don't be absurd. I merely brought to the forefront an indiscretion that could obliterate his career and send his precious daughter to jail. It was my Christian duty to highlight the error of his ways. If, in exchange for my silence, a few gubernatorial favors are expected, then so be it." Louie turned in his seat. "Why is it, when I manipulate the system for personal benefit, it's called 'criminal,' and when people like Judd Davenport do something similar, it's called 'politics'?"

  Louie let him ponder that thought for a moment.

  "But why'd you have to bring Stacey into it?"

  "You're only pissed because I jeopardized your booty call." Louie laughed. "Don't be so naïve. This situation is her fault. If she hadn't brought all this down on me, she wouldn't have raised a blip on my radar. She'll get what's coming."

  Oscar had learned his lesson and thought better of tangling with Louie. But there had to be some way of stopping him from causing pain.

  ***

  When they arrived at Roscoe's ranch, Johnny was there waiting. Louie hopped in the back of the Lincoln Continental as if he was chauffeur-driven royalty.

  "You two play nice," Oscar advised. Then the two of them left for West Louisville.

  Oscar went to the practice track, where his dad and Roscoe were watching their newest thoroughbred training. Even hearing the heavy hoofs beating rhythmically on the dirt didn't excite him as it normally would.

  When the horse crossed the finish line, Roscoe clicked the stopwatch. "Holy crap, Tyler. We got us a Triple Crown winner there. That horse is trophy material. Yahoo!"

  "Yep, he's in great shape. Can't wait to see him in action." Tyler looked over his shoulder. "Oh, hello, Oscar. How's it going?"

  He shrugged. "Could be better."

  "How's Charlotte?" Roscoe asked.

  "Do you mean Stacey?"

  "Whatever."

  "She's fine now, but not for long. Her life is about to get turned upside down."

  "It happens every month, sunshine. She'll get over it. Just give her space."

  "It's more serious than a cramp, Grandad. Louie Gomez is going to wreck her life—and mine. And the governor's in trouble too."

  Roscoe's forehead crinkled. "I told you to stay away from that low-life son of a bitch. What's he done now?"

  "Stacey's got a temper, and it got her thrown out of the DA's office in LA. She lost a case for using inadmissible evidence. The kiddie-fiddler she was trying to put away got off scot-free, so she lamped him with a tire iron. Then Daddy did what daddies do when they go into overdrive trying to protect their loved ones, and there was a cover up. Louie found out about it and is using it against the Davenports to get his case dropped. And he still wants Harris State Park."

  Roscoe chuckled. "Don't tell me he's carrying on his father's legacy and trying to find that buried gold. It made a good story back in seventy-four, but if he's still looking for it after all these years, he must want locking up in the funny farm."

  "Well, he's got the governor where he wants him and is using me and the polo park as a springboard to start digging."

  Tyler turned his attention to his father-in-law. "Are you sure there's no gold buried out there?"

  "If there was, it would've been dug up long before now. Besides, Hector Gomez talked a lot of shit and was just trying to hoodwink me. Forget it. I'm more worried about Gomez Junior getting Judd thrown out of office. He's pretty close to signing the new betting laws. That would be of far more beneficial than digging around for mythical gold bars."

  "My next question is, 'Where does that leave me?' " Oscar asked.

  Tyler flinched a brow. "How's that?"

  "Once Louie gets the state park, he doesn't need me anymore. Unless he's going to suck that hundred and twenty grand out of me. And at the rate things are going, Stacey's either going to jail or back to LA to sun herself on Jett Johnson's yacht. And who knows what's going on with the governor." He punched his fist into his hand. "Damn that Louie Gomez!"

  "Where is he now?"

  "Johnny took him to his office in West Louisville."

  "That's on Front Street, isn't it?"

  Oscar nodded. "Right next to the derelict school."

  "Rough place," Roscoe noted.

  Tyler puffed his chest out. "I don't like people messing with my boy or his fancy piece. Or the governor we're trying to manipulate. Maybe West Louisville will live up to its reputation. A lot of bad things happen in that part of town."

  Roscoe smiled. "Wouldn't that be ironic justice."

  ***

  The governor sat in the chair next to Stacey's desk.

  "What you working on?" he asked.

  "Trying to put Louie Gomez away. It's not going to be easy, especially when he has Brad Rosen as an attorney, but maybe we can do it if we can establish history showing him being a crooked bastard all his life."

  The governor took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "He knows."

  "Who knows what?"

  "Louie Gomez. LA. The peado. The tire iron. The cover up. Your sudden appearance in Kentucky—everything."

  "What? You have got to be kidding me. He can't. That's not possible. You said you'd taken care of everything. How the hell could he know about that? He's a lying sack of shit. He can't—"

  "Stacey, trust me, he knows. He got that reporter woman to dig around and he told me about her findings. They were pretty accurate."

  "So what the hell do we do now?"

  "He wants a dismissal for his sil
ence."

  "How about a bullet to his head for his freaking silence?"

  Judd put his glasses on. "And he wants more than just a dismissal. He wants state land, and after that, I'm sure he'll want more favors from the governor's office. As long as we keep playing ball, he'll keep his trap shut."

  "In other words, he's blackmailing you—me—us. We are going to be living in his pocket."

  He nodded. "Looks that way."

  "Good." She wrote on her legal pad. "I'll add that to the charges I'm working on to present to the grand jury. In the meantime, I intend to get him off the streets for intent to distribute."

  The governor put his hand on top of hers, stopping her from writing. "If he goes to jail, Melanie Harper is under orders to run the story. Stacey, we'll lose everything."

  She shook his hand off hers and slammed her pen on the desk. "So that's it? We're just supposed to roll over and let that slimeball walk back into society and ruin more lives? This is bullshit."

  "I know it is, sweetheart, but what other choice do we have? If this story gets out, we'll both wind up in jail. I'm asking you—begging you—for both our sakes, drop the case. Find a legal cause for dismissal. Make it go away for the time being. We'll find another way to get Gomez, only next time, we'll stop him for good."

  Stacey shook her head. "I can't do it. Rob Brown is pressing full steam ahead, and I have to be onboard with him one hundred percent."

  The governor stood up. "Stacey, if you prosecute this man, we're all going down." He turned and left her office.

  Stacey rapped her pen on the desk, staring at the wall. "Son of a bitch!"

  Chapter 40

  The metal ducting in the ceiling rattled as it churned out cool air to combat the humidity of the evening. At seven o'clock, Louie was still at his desk in the office of his warehouse, going through paperwork and assessing how much his empire was worth.

  He rocked in his leather chair, which creaked with each back-and-forth motion. Stopping, he then extended his left arm in front of him, grabbed his elbow with his other hand, and drew it across his chest. He repeated the exercise with his right before returning to rocking. Leaning forward, he picked up a pen from the glass-topped desk and scribbled a reminder to himself—WD-40.