Absolute Corruption: Southern Justice Trilogy

by Cayce Poponea

  ~ Ash Sweeney

  I now understand how Dylan felt the day he found Cash following Claire. While Lainie was in no danger of being hurt physically, the look of terror on her face both broke me, and stirred a rage I’ve never felt. When Daddy got the call from her, he pulled Momma out by the pool to talk. I knew something was up by the look on his face. The second I heard her name, I was ready to kill. I couldn’t get Dylan’s car to go fast enough. I didn’t care if the cops tried to pull me over. I was going to get to her.

  I’d assumed seeing her face would tamp down the rage coursing through my veins. But, watching those four men, using their position to fill her with fear, caused the anger to reach ultimate levels. Dean Morgan was a man who helped people who had been wronged. But when it came to family, he went the extra step, using every loophole he could. Lainie had done nothing except her job. With nothing but her time vested in the company. Those fuckers had no cause to treat her the way they did, and if I knew my dad, someone in Washington would be answering for it.

  After we left the building, Lainie asked for something stiff to drink. Dylan told her there was a bottle of Hennessy in my desk she could have. It wasn’t quite the icebreaker we needed. Dylan admitting he hadn’t been to McGuire’s in months, not since the last time he’d met Carson there.

  “I wonder what ever happened to Dr. O’Leary and his bride?” The question hung in the air. I wasn’t interested in taking her to the bar, there were more pressing issues to deal with.

  Daddy kissed Lainie as he headed into his office. He said Momma and Claire were on their way over, and he would entertain them until we could find some answers.

  “Oh, my God.” Since meeting Lainie, I’ve often wondered what she would sound like, as she said those three words. Granted it would have been different circumstances, and she would be under me, but I’ll take it. She is more than just my girl; she is a fellow computer junkie.

  “Austin, this is incredible.” I had the same reaction when I finished this room; using the equipment I wanted, and placing the monitors in the order I found the most useful. But seeing the smile return to her face, rather than the fear of an hour ago, I would do anything to help keep it there

  “Come on, have a seat. I’ll make you a drink, and then I’m going to crack a few firewalls.”

  Three drinks later, a rosy cheeked Lainie twisted back and forth in her chair, as I used my copy of the Titan program to break into Adams Lighthouse. Someone had been updating the system, Scott I suspected, by the trap doors and double walls.

  “You know, I never understood why they always use a skull and crossbones at the junction wall. Why not something really scary like, a 3D rendition of Freddy Krueger?” I wasn’t positive if it was the whisky talking, or her inner thoughts unfiltered. But as I cleared the final gatekeeper, an idea began to formulate.

  Lainie reached for the bottle, but as the door opened and our troop of friends entered, she changed her mind. Momma was across the room at lightning speed, hugging Lainie tight, using words she reserved for the times she was really angry.

  “Dean Alexander Morgan, you make sure those bastards pay for making my girl cry. You put them under the jail, do you hear me?” She stomped her foot to drive her point home. “When a woman is screaming and yelling, you have nothing to fear. It’s when they act very calm and collected that you should sleep with one eye open.” I can practically hear my granddaddy saying those words. His wisdom about life was something I missed the most.

  “Love, I’ve already contacted Senator Graham’s office. He is opening a formal investigation first thing in the morning.”

  While Momma threw her hissy fit, and Daddy appeased her, I managed to find what looked to be the financial records for Craven and Associates, as well as Frasier Global. “Babe, didn’t you say Jackie went to California to purchase Fraser Global?”

  Lainie moved away from Momma, pushing her chair beside mine. “She said she had purchased them, and was going out there to look at her new assets.” She could see the same screen I saw, the same numbers, or lack thereof, that I did.

  “That lying bitch!”

  Carson and Georgia chose that moment to walk into the room. Lainie ignored them, as she continued to read the screen.

  “Care to share or do we have to guess?” Lainie and I looked at each other, shrugging. We continued, as I recalled something I had been working on for Carson.

  “Hey, Carson, can I have your social security number?” If what I suspected was true, I was about to open Pandora’s box.

  “Austin, can you tell us something, please?” Momma had lost her fire, which was a good thing, as she was too much of a lady to act amuck. I continued clicking, not to be rude or disrespectful, but because I had encountered a series of hidden doors. Lainie pointed a few out I’d managed to miss, while reassuring the room we would explain everything in a moment. Finally, after opening more doors than I ever have, I had the final piece to this puzzle.

  “Okay, first, Carson you recall the investment company you used to handle your retirement money?” He crossed his arms, standing firm behind Miss Georgia. “You were told the account never existed when you went to set up your allotment, and they were correct.” I clicked a few buttons, sending information to the largest screen I had, so everyone could see as I explained.

  “When the account was created, it was while the firm used the old system. Years ago, Adams Lighthouse developed a program, which allowed the company to go in and randomly change passwords. It also gave them the ability to move money around while the codes were scrambled. Now, Adams Lighthouse had a change of leadership when the founder passed away, leaving his grieving widow to run the company.” I sent the photos of the widow, and her lover to the screen as well.

  “Since Lighthouse’s wife was having an affair with Jonas Frasier, the eldest son of Frasier Global, she appointed him CEO.”

  “Now, in the software community you have two companies which dominate the industry, and a third, which once upon a time, was a solid second. Now, years ago, you could own as many software companies that you wanted. But in the last ten years, legislation, and fear of dangerous monopolies, have made it illegal to have your fingers in more than one pot. As a matter of fact, the long arm of the law extends to the workers in that you have a mandatory waiting period to switch companies. That way trade secrets can’t be stolen in the still of the night, again creating this super monopoly.”

  Lainie reached over interlacing her fingers with mine, a happy and content smile gracing her face.

  “When the widow Lighthouse let her bed warmer take charge of the company, she gave him forty-nine percent of the company in the process. He neglected to tell his sugar momma he already had fifteen percent vested in Frasier Global, which is a direct violation of the Federal Trade Commission. Now, old man Frasier tried to move around some stocks, making it appear the percent Jonah owned was on the pharmaceutical side of the house. But he wasn’t quick enough and the feds caught on. With both companies now in trouble, the youngest son, Kennedy, dreams up this brilliant plan to buy the program I invented for pennies on the dollar He decided to fly under the radar as an ordinary programmer, working in the only remaining company until the dust all settled, and the designer of the program, namely me, was flat broke and panhandling. What he didn’t expect was not the fact said designer had a nice little nest egg and wouldn’t need his help. No, what he didn’t expect and neither did his wife of the past eight months, Jackie Craven, was that Lighthouse didn’t own the rights to the Titan project.”

  Carson moved closer, his hands palm down on my desk. “So who does?”

  Looking at Lainie, very pleased with myself for making her smile return, and for the idea which had solidified in my head. “I do.”

  I looked back at my friends and family. “You see, Adam Lighthouse knew his whore of a wife was fucking around with Jonah. He called me during a holiday weekend, and sold the rights to me for a quarter. No one ever checked on the patent, and no one had challen
ged it. When Jackie sent her golden boy to his brother to purchase it, it was discovered he didn’t own it. This triggered the chain reaction where the feds again got nosey. Jackie went to California, not to see her new company, but to join her husband who was making final arrangements to flee the country. Not only was Jackie lying about her marital status, but also the fact her father had been operating in the red for years. She filed bankruptcy three months ago.”

  “So where does that leave me and my retirement money?” Carson had worked hard all of his life. He and Miss Georgia deserved to travel the world, or relax on her beloved front porch.

  “It’s sitting in your bank account, that’s why I asked for your social security number. I took your money and all of the money they stole in the past few years, and transferred it into a file, which will be easier to hand over to the authorities. I also alerted the TSA manager in New York City, that Mr. and Mrs. Frasier are due to board a plane in an hour.”

  Momma left the room, coming back with a bottle of champagne, and several glasses. “Today was scheduled to be a celebration. First, my youngest son returns from the desert,” she started. Popping the cork from the chilled bottle, filling the first glass, and passing it to Claire. “My oldest has finally found the girl of his dreams,” she passes the second to Dylan. “And my middle has used his gift and love of computers to save the livelihood of several perfect strangers and some dear friends.” She filled the remaining glasses, passing them around, until everyone has one in their hand. “I’d like to propose a toast,” she smiles, raising her glass while encouraging everyone else. “To doing the right thing, even if it hurts to do so.”

  I knew she was talking about more than what had just happened. She was talking about the argument Chase and I had, when I’d confronted him about moving in with a girl after not knowing her for a second. Also giving her access to his accounts and paying for her to live in a condo well above her station. He had responded in a clipped tone, telling me to stay out of his business, and to leave Harmony alone. Further embarrassing us by screaming at me.

  Lainie had only a sip of the champagne. A wise decision based on the amount of whiskey in her system. Dylan and Claire gathered the empty glasses, biding us goodbye, as they had plans for the evening.

  “Claire, before you go, I’d like to get together this week for lunch. You, Lainie, and that lovely girl, Audrey.” I had no clue what Momma had up her sleeve. But it was clear, Priscilla Morgan had an agenda, and something big was about to go down.

  After everyone left, I took Lainie by the hand, and led her over to the sofa I’ve slept on at least a dozen times. I cradled her in my arms, feeling euphoria just being this close. This wasn’t something you could ever find in a pill or bottle.

  “I’m glad you were there today. You came running when I needed you.” Her fingers ran up and down my arm, the comfort going both ways.

  “I’ll always come when you call.” I meant it. She was the girl I had been waiting for, and all the girls before her, were just understudies.

  “I do need to talk to you about something.” I felt her flinch, so I turned her around to face me.

  “You know Dylan has the bike shop as a diversion for what he and I really do, right?” She nodded her head, eyes searching my face. “Something you said earlier about icons for firewalls not being scary enough got me to thinking.” The skin between her brows wrinkled in confusion, as she sat up, facing me completely.

  “What if you came to work for me? Designing web pages and scary firewalls. Doing for me, what the bike shop does for Dylan.”

  Don’t talk, just act. Don’t say, just show. Don’t promise, just prove.

  ~ Unknown

  I had little choice other than to accept Austin’s offer, so I agreed. Being responsible for Heidi and myself, I needed a job. I worried working with him would change our relationship, but two weeks later everything was running smoothly. Not wanting him to regret offering me the position, I insisted we have separate offices. When Priscilla found out, I came into a newly furnished office. Complete with mirrored finishes, soft white surfaces, and four very large, very welcomed monitors. Courtesy of the handsome man who was currently arguing with one of his clients.

  My first assignment, design a webpage for Absolute Power Motor Sports. It seemed simple enough, present a theme, which shouted badass man on two wheels. I managed to create three different options, all featuring a hot, half-dressed girl who helped to answer any questions the viewer needed. Dylan chose certain elements of each one, yet eliminated the cliché girl, which surprised me.

  “Motherfuckers can find hard tits somewhere else.”

  After I finished Absolute Power, other companies got in contact with Austin, wanting to have a similar page created. Austin took their money and smiled, as I decorated the internet with diamond plated backgrounds, and bold letter fonts. I’ll admit, it was fun to sit back and allow myself to play around.

  While Austin had agreed to keep our working relationship separate from our personal one, he also went the extra mile to make me aware of how much he cared. For example, last Friday he sent me a bouquet of wildflowers, their happy faces arranged in a dark vase. The card attached, spelled out his desire for a date. The flowers he used as an opening line.

  Lainie,

  I know a place where these grow wild.

  Let me show you tonight.

  Austin

  The characteristic I loved most about Austin was his ability to know where I will feel most comfortable. Words could never define how sexy he looked standing beside his motorcycle, in my favorite faded jeans, black boots, and logo shirt. Working in his office, afforded me the luxury of wearing jeans when I chose. While I enjoyed my skirts during the majority of the work week, every Friday, I slid into a pair of jeans I’d had long enough to make them feel like pajama bottoms.

  Sitting on the seat of the bike was a bright red helmet, which matched the paint on the motorcycle. As I got closer, I noticed the tiny letters, which formed my name in script, emblazoned on the side.

  “What’s this?” Uncrossing his arms and ankles, he shoved himself away from a reclined position. “Well,” reaching for the helmet, his fingers gripped the straps, and his hand disappeared inside. “I have plans of having you on the back of this quite often, and need you protected.”

  Hearing the words and absorbing their meaning, I accepted the truth of his intentions. While he may have meant the danger I faced from the accidental contact of the road or elements, my heart sighed a little, allowing him to take ownership. It was deep and powerful, with the possibility of crushing me, and there was no way I could turn away.

  I’ve watched Austin work a computer as if it was an extension of himself. Fine-tuned hand and eye coordination, in a beautiful symphony of speed and skill. I handed over my safety, and giving complete control to his skills as a biker came easy. Just like the keyboard, he commanded the power of the vibrating machine under us. No one could argue he was a walking billboard for sex under normal circumstances. However, the feel of him between my thighs, the way he squeezed my hands when we stopped at a traffic light, or how he rubbed my knee before he dug into the throttle, increased his sex appeal tenfold.

  I could have remained attached to his back all night. No conversation was needed, only observing the scenery as it passed by. Down city streets where men stopped what they were doing, pointing in our direction, admiring the sexiness of the bike as we went on our way. Modern highways turned into dirt roads, which ended in fields of billowing grass. The sun setting in the horizon, cast the last few rays to the countryside beauty.

  Austin allowed me to get off the bike first. His gloved hand providing a solid hold, as I placed both feet back on the ground. Taking my new helmet from me, his already hanging from the silver handle bars. His hair oddly sexy, regardless of the restraints from his safety gear.

  “Where are we?” I wondered, as I shook out my not so sexy hair, wishing I had worn a hair tie to work. I used my fingers to drum life back
into the flattened strands.

  Something to my left reflected in my vision, causing me to turn. It’s a small pond with a wooden dock running about half way down. Dusting the west edge of the water is a patch of wildflowers, just as he’d promised to show me.

  “Well about six miles in that direction,” he pointed across the expanse of the pond. “Is the entrance of my brother Chase’s land. And about ten miles on the other side of that road we just left, is Dylan’s property.”

  I looked around in the directions he pointed, appreciating the beauty, which surrounded me. There is a long tree line, which borders the pond. I could almost picture a log cabin nestled in the pines. A simple front porch with rocking chairs facing the water, giving its inhabitants a place to reflect, and enjoy the beauty of nature.

  Austin interrupted my ridiculousness, by taking my hand. He walks us through the high grass. I cringe for a moment thinking of the number of snakes coiled up in the camouflage of underbrush, hiding from the heat of the sun. I’m grateful when our boots hit the wood of the deck, and no snake scurried out from hiding.

  “It’s beautiful here.” And it is, a peaceful lullaby of silence being separated from the city. Picture perfect in nature’s unduplicated painting of untapped landscape. Bull frogs singing their own version of appreciation for the endless beauty.

  “I agree, which is why I brought you out here.” His hands are back in his pockets, a sign he is nervous about something. He’s also rocking back and forth on his heels, a complete contrast to his normal in charge demeanor. “I called an architect about a month ago. He sent me an email yesterday with a rough draft for the home I want to build here.”

  “This land is yours?”

  The rays of the sun highlighted the healthiness of his hair; giving life to the scruff he had allowed to grow. Austin was blessed with an olive skin tone, flawless even in the harshness of the sun.