Love and Injustice

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Love and Injustice Page 18

by Mary Crawford


  “Any luck reaching Joey Ward’s family?” I pour us some coffee and nibble on some toast.

  Cody scrubs his hand down his face. “No, it’s the strangest thing. No one can get a hold of them. It’s like they disappeared off the planet. At first I thought we were just missing each other. I figured they were on their way to wherever Joey was being evaluated by the feds. Apparently, that’s not the case. They’ve ghosted. This case has been weird from the beginning.”

  “I remember. It was the grandmother who was insistent he might be involved with your case, but the parents were reluctant to call you in, right?” I drink a few sips of my coffee. “What do you think that’s about?”

  “I don’t know. Right now, I can’t even get a hold of the grandmother. It’s making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.”

  “This whole case has been a study in the bizarre. It seems like every kid who was taken was treated differently and abused differently —” I lose my train of thought as my phone rings. It’s not the ring tone from the facility where my mom is staying. I breathe a small sigh of relief.

  I glance down at the phone and notice it’s Crystal. When I answer the phone, she screams loud enough Cody can hear it, “Turn the TV on!”

  “What channel?” I ask.

  “It doesn’t matter. Any local news will do. Hang up and record it with your phone. Trust me you’ll want to.”

  “This won’t ruin my day will it?” I ask, concerned about the weird edge in her voice.

  “No, I wouldn’t do that to you. This will make your decade. Go! I’ll talk to you later,” Crystal says as she abruptly hangs up.

  Cody sprints into the living room and turns on the television. The remote dangles from his fingers as we both watch in stunned silence as a blonde reporter announces, “In unexpected news today, District Attorney, Derek Zane, has tendered his resignation to the governor in light of charges announced by the Department of Justice.”

  I look over at Cody and mouth, “What charges?”

  As if the reporter heard my question, she continues, “Federal officials have announced Derek Zane will be charged with racketeering, fraud, money laundering and identity theft in conjunction with his alleged activity with dog racing. Officials are being tightlipped — only confirming they have an unindicted co-conspirator and more charges will be forthcoming shortly.”

  The scene cuts back to the newsroom where one of the anchors asks, “What does this mean for the prosecutor’s office? How will they be able to function? Does this put any of their previous cases in jeopardy?”

  “Those are all excellent questions, Doug. The only answer I can give you right now is that this news has taken everyone by surprise and no one is sure how it is all going to shake out. There is wild speculation about who the unindicted co-conspirator is — especially in light of the fact that Tori Clarkson was relieved of her duties. We have no confirmation those things are related. It’s mere speculation at this point. We’ve reached out to the prosecutor’s office for comment. Ms. Clarkson’s replacement, Stacy Hildebrand, has not responded to our repeated requests.”

  My phone rings again and I reflexively put it up to my ear. “Did you hear that? They’re just making stuff up. You’re not the unindicted co-conspirator. You haven’t done a single thing wrong! Did they even read the report issued by the bar? Of course not! Nobody reads that stuff except for bored lawyers. What are you going to do?” Crystal peppers me with questions. “You can’t let them destroy your reputation like this.”

  “Crystal, my reputation was gone a long time ago. That’s not the biggest issue here. I’m worried about every conviction our office has obtained since Derek Zane came on board. What is Stacy going to do about those?”

  “I have no clue. Shaddick Warren came busting in the office the other day without an appointment and she left with him. She didn’t come back or cancel any of her appointments. She just disappeared. It was a pain too because she was scheduled to appear in court. The judge was none too happy when we didn’t have anybody there.”

  “Do you have anyone to cover for her?”

  “No, I don’t. Chelsea and Erika are in trial and they only have first-year law students as second chairs.”

  “Really? You’re stretched that thin?”

  “Yeah, I guess you haven’t heard. After Derek let you go and hired Stacy, there was a mass exodus. People didn’t want to work here without you.”

  “Wow! I wish I could help, but right now my hands are tied. Let me think about it for a bit. Right now I’m reeling from the news. I don’t even know what to think. I’ll call you back after I’ve had a chance to wrap my brain around what it means for everyone I know.”

  Crystal says, “I know I’m your friend — but this office doesn’t run the same without you here. You should be the district attorney.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say and I appreciate it. The reality is I don’t work there anymore. Derek’s legal problems don’t really change that. But, let me see if I can figure out some way to help.”

  “I wish things were different. This shouldn’t be happening to our office. The way they show us on the news is not who we are,” Crystal insists tearfully.

  “I know. We’ll figure out some way to fix it. Hold your head up high. You are Crystal Downing, Administrative Assistant, extraordinaire in one of the best prosecutors offices in the country — we just have to prove people like Derek Zane and Stacy Hildebrand don’t represent the heart of us.”

  “Okay, go do your magic. I’ve got to go pull myself together and pretend the universe isn’t blowing up around me.”

  I try not to be tentative when I knock on Tristan’s door but the headquarters of Identity Bank are intimidating at best. Fortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve been here. Toby brought me here a couple times when we were working on building the profile of Bex Michaels and all the victims we knew of. Still, the place is enormous and classy in a way that speaks to Tristan’s wealth and position.

  When Tristan hears the knock on the door he instructs me to come in. I’m surprised when I see Isaac Roguen sitting in one of the leather chairs in Tristan’s office. “Tori, I’m glad you stopped by today. I imagine things are a little crazy in your life right now. I hope you don’t mind, I thought my father-in-law would be helpful in this situation.”

  I turn to the older gentleman and introduce myself, “Hello, I’m Tori. Rogue and Ivy speak so highly of you, I feel like I already know you. Rogue tells me I should go to the gun range with you. She says you’ll cure me of all my bad habits.”

  “Oh really? What bad habits does my daughter think I can fix?”

  I blush. “Well, my job is rather high-profile — or I guess I should say my former job was high-profile. My mentor in law school suggested I become proficient with firearms. I’m not opposed — I simply have a bad habit of flinching every time I fire my weapon. Last time I went out with Jade and the twins, I was telling them how awkward I felt at the gun range and they suggested I talk to you,” I confess in a rush of words.

  “It certainly sounds like Rogue’s instincts were right on. I’d love to take you shooting some time.”

  “Thank you so much. I’m sure I could use some weapons training. Although I don’t think I can shoot my way out of my current problem. I hope I’m not imposing too much. The last time we were together, you said I could contact you if I needed anything. I hope you were serious,” I joke as I look at Tristan.

  “Guns are fun, but here at Identity Bank, we usually try to use our brains to solve problems,” Tristan answers with a grin. “Seriously, if I offer my help, I intend to give it. So, what do you need?”

  “Okay, just wanted to make sure I wasn’t imposing.”

  “Tori, we’ve been watching the news. Impose away,” Isaac instructs.

  “In case you’re wondering, I am not the unindicted co-conspirator. The Florida State bar cleared me of all wrongdoing. Derek Zane was after my job because I wouldn’t sleep with him and probably be
cause I went after the dog racing industry.”

  “We’ve been studying the reports Phoenix has been issuing. That man has many problems and none of them are actually you. If anything, he was probably jealous of your skills and smarts. All of his criminal enterprises don’t hold a candle to your talent.”

  “I appreciate that, I really do. But, right now I’ve got two problems. The public thinks I’ve done something wrong —which I haven’t. This puts what’s left of the prosecutor’s office in a position of having to defend me when they can’t prove a negative. The second issue is even bigger. The person who was supposed to be replacing me is MIA and now that Derek Zane has stepped down, there isn’t anyone to deal with the ramifications of his departure. It potentially puts every case he was ever part of in jeopardy. Somebody needs to be in charge of my office.” I blush. “I mean my former place of employment.”

  Isaac studies me intently for a moment. “You were the Assistant District Attorney before you were wrongfully terminated, correct?”

  I nod.

  “Your standing with the bar is no longer in question?”

  “I’ve been exonerated. They even took the inquiry off my record completely. They included a statement in their findings that Derek Zane maliciously filed a meritless complaint. The Bar Association advised me I could sue him if I wished — but I think he has enough legal problems.”

  “It would probably help things if the right people knew what actually happened,” Tristan mutters as he writes something on a legal pad.

  “It would also help if people didn’t assume I was the unindicted co-conspirator, if they knew I didn’t deserve to lose my job, or if they knew all those nasty things that I supposedly did in the elevator were a complete fabrication,” I reply with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  Tristan turns toward his father-in-law and remarks, “Well, Isaac those sound like thorough marching orders.” He pivots back toward me. “Try not to worry, Tori we’ll do the best we can to help you. Unfortunately, we have to go to another meeting. But, we’ll be in touch when we have something.”

  Isaac clears his throat. “I have a better offer than that.” He looks over at Tristan. “You forgot about the birthday party for Marcus.”

  “That’s right. You and Cody should come. It’s for Marcus, so of course there will be karaoke, but it’s lots of fun. I’ll have Rogue text you the details.”

  I grimace. “I’m not sure I’ll be in much of a party mood. My life is the definition of a disaster zone right now.”

  “Don’t you worry, Mija. Friday is many days away. Much can be accomplished between now and then. You just leave the fretting to us.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CODY

  PAULINE, TOBY, TORI AND I are all hunched over a bank of computers in a conference room at Identity Bank trying to match the identity of nearly a dozen children and teenagers rescued during Pauline’s rogue operation with the feds. No matter how hard I stare at the file in front of me and the large image on the screen, I can’t make sense of it.

  “Toby, I think we have a SNAFU. This file with Joey Ward’s picture doesn’t match. It says Christian Peña from Arizona.”

  Toby sets down the spreadsheet he’s been working with and walks around behind me. “What’s up, Cody?”

  I point to the picture on the computer in front of me. “Pauline, this is who you identified as Joey Ward, right?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she confirms as she pulls out a glossy print from one of her files. “I made a visual match. It’s close, don’t you think?”

  “His hair is a little lighter, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything these days,” I comment.

  Toby steps up to the computer next to me and types. “Hair can be deceiving, but DNA is usually dead on.” Toby nods toward his screen which brought up the same picture I was looking at before with the name Christian Peña.

  “Oh, wait a second —” interrupts Pauline. “I have an idea.” She rolls her chair over to Toby’s computer and types with lightning speed. After a couple of seconds, a closed-circuit video of an interview appears next to his picture. It seems to be of the debriefing session with the feds. Toby’s face turns pale and his hands form fists as he listens to the young man identify himself as a kidnapping victim and talk about missing his family in Colorado.

  Pauline reaches out and touches Toby on his arm. “I think we’ve heard enough. This definitely isn’t Joey Ward.”

  Toby glances down at her hand as if he’s startled to find anyone else in the room. He looks as if he is fighting to come back from somewhere a million miles away. “We have to find this kid’s family,” he says gruffly.

  I clear my throat. “I agree. We also have to figure out what in the heck happened to Joey Ward since this definitely isn’t him.”

  Tori clears her throat. “I have good news on the first front. Christian’s family won’t be hard to track down. They are registered with the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. They’ve never stopped looking for their son. They just had no idea he would end up in Florida.”

  “Well, technically he ended up in Alabama, but close enough,” Pauline corrects.

  “You didn’t tell me you were in another state when all this went down,” Toby replies with a raised eyebrow.

  “I’m sorry. I had to do what I had to do. I couldn’t let him get away,” she replies with an apologetic shrug.

  “Don’t apologize. I want to thank you on behalf of all the kids who were abducted who aren’t able to put their thanks into words yet. Some of them may never know the risk you took and the price you’ll pay. I know when I was first rescued, I was mad it took five years for people to find me. I was angry at myself for not escaping sooner. I was furious at my captor for taking me in the first place and I was livid at my parents for allowing me to be kidnapped. My reunion was not the happy event you often see on TV. It was awkward and sullen.”

  “I’m so sorry. You deserve to be happy,” Pauline whispers through tears.

  Toby stares at the monitors and blinks several times. “I am happy-ish. Every day it’s a struggle for me to focus on who I want to be rather than what happened to me. Helping other victims of crime is one way I accomplish that.”

  “I admire your dedication. But still, days like this must be hard,” Pauline remarks.

  Toby stares down at his feet. “They are. But not as hard as sitting around doing nothing and letting evil win.”

  Pauline’s face lights up. “Exactly! You totally get it. Now you understand why I couldn’t sit back and just follow protocol. Sometimes, doing the right thing for the right reasons is more important than following the rules.”

  Toby nods tightly. “Sometimes — and sometimes coloring inside the lines will save your life. The trick is choosing which strategy to take.”

  Pauline gasps and covers her face with her hands. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean to sound like it was a criticism. Every situation is different.”

  “Like you said, this is hard for me. It pushes all sorts of buttons. I probably just misunderstood you. We should get back to working on these cases anyway,” Toby replies shortly as he pulls up another picture on the computer.

  Tori walks over and places her hands on Toby’s shoulders and gives a reassuring squeeze. “You’re doing great. This is tough work for all of us. I can’t imagine putting myself in your shoes. If you need a break, let me know.”

  Toby smiles up at her. “Believe it or not, helping other people makes me feel stronger. Thanks for the offer though.”

  Pauline picks up a stack of files and walks over to stand in front of Toby. “I know we just met. But, I want you to know I think you’re awesome.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” Toby stammers. “I’m just a guy who was kidnapped as a kid who likes to do stuff on computers.”

  “And I’m a cop who needs to go find answers about another missing kid. My gut tells me we haven’t gotten straight answers. I’m going to go find Dylan so he can be the bad cop. I’ll let yo
u know if we find anything.”

  Tori comes over and squeezes my hands. “Cody, stay safe. Something about this situation makes me nervous.”

  “You and me both. There is something off about this case, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Do you suppose they’ll be home?” I ask as we pull up to the curb in front of the modest ranch house.

  “Who knows?” Dylan answers. “How are we gonna play this? Am I the evil one this time?”

  “Let’s see how the chemistry works out.”

  “It’s too bad Darya isn’t here. She’s always great at throwing people off kilter by being wickedly lethal.”

  “I kinda hope I get to play the heavy for a change. I’ve been too nice lately.”

  “That’s because love has made you dopey. You walk around with a grin on your face all the time. You’re so happy I wonder if you can even be surly anymore.”

  “That’s it. Watch me. Detective Palmer, for this operation you are now the good cop,” I reply with a scowl.

  Dylan shrugs. “Suits me fine, I get tired of people hating me on sight.”

  We walk up to the porch and knock on the door. I hear a male voice say, “Meredith, I thought you said the mail wasn’t coming till this afternoon?”

  “It isn’t, but maybe we got those candles my sister said she’d send.”

  The door swings open and we come face-to-face with Mr. and Mrs. Ward. Doyle Ward almost drops his beer when he sees us. Dylan puts on a charming smile and says, “Good morning, I’m Detective Dylan Palmer. Do you mind if we come in?”

  “Why would you want to do that?” Meredith Ward asks defiantly.

  “We’re here to talk about Joey —” Dylan suggests as he ushers us toward the house.

  Reluctantly, Doyle Ward steps aside as he mumbles, “Come on in.”

  I nod my appreciation. Dylan looks around and says, “Nice place you have here.”

 

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