Absolute Corruption: Southern Justice Trilogy

by Cayce Poponea

  “But…”

  “No buts. If our Momma found out we didn’t take care of you, she would make us find a switch from the tree out back.”

  Audrey had experienced a small dose of Priscilla Morgan. According to Dylan, she came by the shop one morning to find Audrey on her hands and knees, scrubbing the back room floor, so she could put Chase’s boxes in there. She had accidentally managed to spill a bottle of gear grease when she was moving things around. Momma went off on Dylan for not having first helped Audrey move the heavy box, and second, for not having nicer supplies on hand for Audrey to use. Just like everyone who has encountered the woman in full form, Audrey straightened her back, and headed out the front door.

  “Somethin’ we need to talk about?” Dylan’s brow furrowed, crossing his arms against his chest.

  “The list is long.” Shaking my head, I made sure Audrey was inside her car, and out of earshot. “I can’t say for sure, but that girl is hiding from something, or someone.”

  Dylan cast me a look, pulling the stool from behind the lift. “Such as?”

  “Such as, she’s working to pay for the boyfriend’s toys, while he is married to somebody else. You can’t possibly look at her, and not have questions.”

  Dylan glanced over his shoulder, wheeled the chair over to the fridge. “I noticed. I suspected the first night I met her. She was scared of her own shadow.” Pulling two beers from the fridge, the light from the inside illuminated the anger on his face. “My arrogant ass assumed it was because she wanted to ride my dick.” He twisted the cap off his bottle, sliding the second in my direction. “I’ve seen the boyfriend, drives a lifted, newer Silverado. He came by the shop one morning, demanding money from her. I stepped in to make sure everything was all right. He took the money, and peeled out of here.”

  Dylan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. By the smile on his face, I assumed it was Claire. By the shaking of his head as he read the screen, I knew it was. “You waste no time do you, Austin? Haven’t known the girl more than a minute, and you’re already taking care of her.”

  We had the same upbringing, the same core values, so I wasn’t sure what his issue was. “Why wouldn’t I? You take care of Claire, Daddy takes care of Momma, and I take care of Lainie. I’m sorry to say, Chase is taking care of that bitch Harmony.” Even saying her name made my skin itch. She was rotten to the fucking core. I just had to prove it and open Chase’s eyes to the shit she was pulling.

  “Well, for one, I love Claire. Daddy is married to Momma, and Chase, well, he’s an idiot. Lainie is a girl you met a week ago, or has something happened I don’t know about?”

  There was no denying the smile the thought of her brought to my face, or the feeling I got in my chest when he said her name. While I didn’t love her, I cared a great deal for her. “Lainie is my girl. I won’t label her as my ‘girlfriend’ because we aren’t in the seventh grade. But I’ve canceled every date I had planned, so I could spend my free time with her. I’ve told her how I feel, and we are dating. Not that you didn’t already know all of that because you gossip like an old woman, since you’ve gone and gotten yourself a girl.”

  Dylan laughed so hard he nearly fell off the stool he was rolling around on. We tapped bottlenecks, as Dylan made a toast.

  “To the beautiful ladies who stole our hearts. May God have mercy on their souls.”

  Audrey returned a short while later, three bags of food in her tiny hands. Dylan fussed with her for half a second, as he took the load from her. “Next time call us when you’re pulling up, and we’ll come out and help you.” Defeat was immediately written all over her face. Dylan, the dumb ass, didn’t always consider not everyone was used to his crassness.

  With the poor girl trembling so bad her hair was moving, I tossed Dylan a look, then moved in for damage control. “Darlin’, pay him no mind. Our Momma dropped him on his head one too many times. I never meant for you to carry all this by yourself. Next time we’ll come out and help you. Just send us a text or call, okay?”

  Dylan handed her an open beer, then gave her a side hug, adding a simple kiss to her temple. For the first time ever, I watched as the skin on her cheeks pinked, and a smile graced her lips. This girl owned a beautiful smile. Too bad there was no one to give her reason to keep it alive.

  When Audrey finished her dinner, we loaded her car with leftovers. As we watched her drive away, Dylan pulled out his phone, pressed a few buttons, and then slid it back into his pocket.

  With my eyes still fixed down the dark street, “Do I want to know what that was about?”

  Dylan turned to walk back up the drive. “Just a tip to a cop friend of mine. I just remembered where he can find a guy with an open warrant.”

  Carson came in twenty minutes later with a case of beer, and a worry line you could park a truck in.

  “What’s wrong? They close the Dunkin’ Donuts on your beat?” Dylan faked a dive to avoid the slap he assumed Carson was about to deliver. When none came, he set the beer on the top shelf, closing the door without getting any beer.

  “I wish it was that fucking simple.” Dylan kicked a chair in his direction, as he took the rolling chair to his left. “Georgia had a letter waiting for me when I got home. The investment company our broker used, has mysteriously lost my retirement money.”

  I hated hearing this; bad investments made by inexperienced brokers. Now the man had only his pension to retire on. “Aren’t those types of services insured?”

  Leave it to my ass of a brother to know nothing about investments.

  “No, I mean the account has been wiped clean. There’s no trace of the money ever existing.” My interest was piqued. Carson’s face was red with rage, as Dylan reached in for a cold beer. “I called the company. They insist they have never had an account with me. They also said there is no way anyone could tamper with the system, as the passwords change every day.” He twisted off the cap, his face contorting with the force he used. “Without that money, I’ll be working until I’m eighty.” He tossed back the bottle, emptying over half in one gulp. Carson was family, and Morgan’s take care of our own.

  “Come by my office in the morning. Bring any account numbers; pay stubs, anything you can think of, so I can start digging up a trail. It’s impossible for money, letters, anything to disappear from the internet, without leaving tracks to follow. It might take me a little while, but I will find your money. You have my word.” I closed my hand around Carson’s shoulder, squeezing him just like I would one of my brothers.

  “We need to get the details of the Frank Benson case ironed out.” Dylan reached into his pocket, pointed his cell phone at a monitor, and brought the screen to life. “Preston has the divorce papers ready to be signed. Austin has arranged for all the money in his accounts to transfer to Francine’s name, and I have cleaned out the pole barn on my property. According to the weatherman, this weekend will be perfect weather for hog boilin’. Now, according to Francine, he has a business trip scheduled for Thursday through Monday. Austin looked up his tickets, which are actually first class to Jamaica.” Each point shown across the screen, I stood in wonderment watching my brother in the role he was destined to live. It was so hard for me to recall the ass of a man he was just months ago. Now, he’s passionate about what he is doing, has a girl he loves, and looks so damned happy.

  Our plan was simple. On Thursday, I would pick him up in a town car we’d rented. Carson would be in the back seat waiting to have a come to Jesus meeting. We would take him out to Dylan’s property, and return to him the level of pain he has inflicted on his wife all these years. Francine didn’t want him dead, but the man was certainly going to pray for it.

  “I’ll let Claire know I’m doing a parts run. She’ll know to keep Lainie busy. Miss Georgia is going to be out of town with Francine at a spa. Anything else?”

  Each of us looked at the other. When no one had anything to say, I took it as my cue to start.

  “Actually, I have something I need to show you g
uys. It’s about Harmony.”

  Life begins at the end of your comfort zone

  ~ Neale Donald Walsch

  Being called into the boss’ office before you even put your purse down is never a good sign. Even though I knew I had done nothing wrong, I couldn’t ignore the feeling of dread, as it coursed through my chest. Jackie Craven had worked hard after her father died. Taking the community college education she had under her belt, and continuing on where her father left off. Being a woman in the computer software field is tough enough, owning the company, near impossible.

  “You wanted to see me?” I knocked softly on her open door. Jackie’s head was down, her focus on the papers littering her desk. Where most executives had top of the line furniture and a corner office, Jackie was completely old school. With a desk her father got at an auction, and an office she shared with her assistant.

  “Hey, good morning, yes, I did want to see you. Come in, and close the door.” Her tone told me what my mind already knew, the issue wasn’t with me. When I first took the job as designer, I had received a lot of flak from some of the guys on the team. But just like Griffin Powell, and his tiny snake, I gave those boys a taste of what I was capable of.

  Jackie leaned back in her chair, her hands folded, with her fingers locked around themselves. “Lainie, tell me what you know about Kennedy Fraser?”

  Memories of college classes spent listening to him brag about a girl he fucked the night before, and sometimes, the minute before class. The numerous projects where he’d paid some broke kid to do the work. But my favorite had been the underage girl who’d fumbled into one of his parties, only to return four months later with a positive pregnancy test, and an irate father.

  “The man on paper, or the man I tolerated for four years?” I wasn’t willing to risk my job, or reputation; on the chance she was his current fuck buddy. This business could be cutthroat, with near constant competition for the next best thing.

  “Maybe I should tell you why I need to know. Save you time on what to leave out, and what is important for me to hear.” She adjusted her position, with hands on her desk, and green eyes locked with mine. Jackie was a pretty girl with her cinnamon hair, and tanned skin. A curvy woman, but not obese by any measure.

  “A little over a month ago, Frasier Global had all of its assets frozen by the Federal Trade Commission. Their CEO, was arrested for insider trading with his parent company; a pharmaceutical company which was about to release a new antidepressant.” I would have given anything to see Kennedy hauled off to jail, crying like the punk ass bitch he is.

  “Lucky for us, I have a very good friend who let me know the company was being sold for an insanely low price. With the clients they carry, purchasing the company was never in question. While I’ve agreed to keep the majority of the staff on, I’ve received an email from Kennedy, who would like to keep his job as well. So, tell me, what do you know about the Frasers?” Jackie returned to her prior relaxed position. With no qualms about the truth insulting her, I began my tale.

  “Well, let’s start with his family. Especially since you get your moral compass from the ones you call family. The eldest brother, Simon I believe, used his looks, and apparent big dick, to ensnare the wife of a competing company, Adams Lighthouse, until the founder’s death. At which time he assumed on the role of CEO, and from what I hear, just lost his top coder.” Jackie’s eyes become saucer in size, and her mouth opened with a gasp. However, her brow quickly rose, and she tossed out a question, interrupting my train of thought.

  “Where did you hear this, Facebook?”

  “No, I happen to know Austin Morgan personally. He has opened his own business right here in Charleston. Although, I don’t think he is writing code.”

  “Wait, you say you know Austin? But you don’t know if he is still writing code? How good a friend is he?”

  I thought of Austin, and his quiet smile. The one I tell myself is reserved for me. He has this cute little wrinkle in the middle of his bottom lip, begging me to touch it with my tongue. I enjoy the way his hand feels against the edge of my hand, respecting my need for space. “Pull up the security camera from earlier in the week, you will see us in the lobby of the building.”

  With three clicks of her mouse, and several flicks side to side with her eyes, she scans the scene on the monitor before her, “Good God, he’s hot! Is he single?”

  In poker, you never reveal your hand. Avoiding any twitches or bouncing of your leg, which could give away your cards. I’ve never been good at games, or keeping my face emotionless. Well, except for the whole resting bitch face. I’m an expert at that one.

  Austin had made his feelings quite clear. He wanted to be much more than a friend, and while he maintained restraint in the restaurant and the car ride to and from, he’d presented himself as a man with intent. Friday, when we had our plans hijacked by the take no prisoners, Priscilla Morgan, I discovered just how serious his intentions were.

  While Claire and Dylan had tiptoed around the inevitable, Austin had sent out what in his mind, was a clear sign she was his. Too bad for Dylan, his attempted Bat-signal was used on someone who was in no position to be saved. In my case, however, since I’d grown up with a momma who used men to their fullest, I was able to decipher the unspoken words most men understood. When Austin’s momma stepped in, I sat back and let it happen. I said my please and thank you’s, not because I wanted to use Austin or his momma, but by refusing their generosity, I would have insulted them. An act you never do with a southern woman, or the man you have decided to take a chance on.

  “He is seeing someone. A girl his momma has already met.” Meeting the parents, at least in the majority of southern families, is a big step. Men can and do have their fill of girls they enjoy for a time, and then move on to the next. However, once they introduce them to Momma, the game changes. Granted, I’d met Priscilla before I met Austin. But Jackie was in the dark as to the fact that someone, was me, and the circumstances around the meeting of said momma.

  “Figures, men who look that good don’t stay single long.” Jackie spoke the truth, especially when we are talking about the Morgan men. Every one of them was built like the cover model of a bestselling romance. I’d watched first hand, as Austin had pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, granting me a glimpse of the hard work he did in the gym.

  “Anyway, once Lighthouse lost their top earner, I heard they went looking for some new blood. Someone who could finish what Austin had started.”

  “The Titan Project?”

  “Yes,” I affirmed.

  “Rumors have circulated for a while the project was being abandoned. With the security risks involved, it would be near impossible to get a buyer.” Jackie scoffed. Like most people who had no hand in the invention, having the need to make themselves feel better.

  “Who told you this?”

  “Kennedy Frasier, actually. Lighthouse came to them around the same time the Trade Commission began snooping around.”

  “Of course he did. Kennedy knows Lighthouse is scrambling since they’re down the original writer for the program. Why buy today for a few million, when you can get it next week for a few grand? Austin would have signed a non-compete, which by industry standards is six months. After which time, Kennedy thinks he will be looking for work. Why not offer a man who may be down to his last penny a life ring? Hire him for a little more than he made previously, buy the program for a song, and BAM! You’ve become king of the hill.”

  Jackie sat back in her chair. A look of disbelief all over her face. Was she more surprised I knew so much, or I knew the game Kennedy was playing? “Too bad for Kennedy his plan went up in smoke when his company was sold off, and the original writer isn’t hurting for money. Not for a long time, if ever. Since Kennedy is never one to give up, and he has no idea Austin started his own company, he is going with plan B.”

  “Which involves coming to work for me?”

  “If that’s what he wants to call it. Plan B is to come here, get
the program, and the writer in the same day. Then he is the golden boy once again. Able to sit back, and order people around, like he has his entire life.”

  Jackie looks bewildered when I’m finished, and I’m not sure she believes me. If Kennedy were to come work for her, it would leave me in a position to possibly seek employment elsewhere. Which would put a rather huge damper on my life here in Charleston.

  “I’ll be heading to California tomorrow to meet with the employees who are remaining with the company, including Kennedy. I need you to keep things running around here. Which is why I’m promoting you to Director.”

  There is no way I’ve heard her correctly. Receiving two promotions in less than six months is almost unheard of.

  “This isn’t going to be easy for you. Just beyond that door is a stack of hungry managers, who think they have big enough balls to run this company. Even if I tell them to follow you, at least half of them are going to fight you, go against everything you say. I’m going to need the girl who graduated at the top of her class, stood up to the big boys at Caltech, and showed them what she is made of.”

  If it wouldn’t have made me look like a three year old, I would have jumped across the desk, and hugged her. Jackie was a woman of action, not promises which would be forgotten before the sun set.

  “I’ve never been afraid of the bullies on the playground. I learned a long time ago they’re mostly talk, with very little action.”

  “That, right there, is why I chose to hire you the day you first interviewed. And my decision to appoint you Director was made the second my offer was accepted to purchase Frasier Global. Now get out there, and get to work.”

  Rising from my chair, the elation bubbling like Mount Vesuvius about to erupt. I’d worked hard to get to this point. Beaten the odds of my white trash upbringing.

  “Oh, and one more thing.” I glanced back at her over my shoulder, struggling to keep my smile in check. “Tell your boyfriend if he ever wants a job, he can come talk to me. I’d hire him in a second.” Stupid lack of a poker face.