Beautiful, Dirty, Rich

by J. D. Mason

  “He deserves to be buried under the fuckin’ jail,” Desi muttered. “Even that’s too good for him.”

  “He’s going to finally get what’s coming to him, Des. Shit, he was worse than the criminals he convicted.”

  Lonnie was right.

  “His self-righteous ass had no business being a judge.”

  “He’s sitting on the other side of the fence now. But I’ve got to give it to him. At least he didn’t go out like Billings.”

  I Seen Rain

  “I need to see you!” Never in a million years would Fleming think he’d be making demands on Gatewood, but he had no choice. Neither one of them had a choice. Fleming was desperate. They’d kill him in prison, but only if he went to prison. Russ needed to somehow beat this, and the only option he had left was with Gatewood money.

  “You need to lose this number,” Jordan retorted.

  Russ spoke quickly, before Gatewood hung up on him. “And you need to get down here before I start spilling my guts, telling the truth about your father’s murder.”

  The line didn’t go dead. Obviously, Russ had his attention.

  “There are some things you don’t know,” Russ continued, struggling to get his composure in line. “Things we kept from you back then. Important details about the night he was shot.”

  “There’s nothing more I fuckin’ need to know, Fleming.”

  “There’s plenty you need to know, Jordan.” Russ’s heart raced, and sweat beaded across his forehead. “Things we kept hidden, that could destroy what’s left of the Gatewood foundation if it gets out. So, if I were you, I’d bust my ass to get down here as soon as possible, or I’ll tell everybody within earshot what I know, including the authorities and the media.”

  “Tell me now!” Jordan demanded.

  “I tell you face-to-face, or you find out about it the same way everybody else does, in Desi Green’s book.”

  “What the hell do you know?”

  “Like I said, I’ll tell you when you get here. And bring the name and number of a good lawyer, the best your money can buy.”

  Russ slammed the receiver down on the hook and then he crossed his fingers, said a silent prayer, and hoped to God that he’d planted that seed of urgency deep in the man’s head.

  Russ had held up his end of that twenty-six-year-old bargain. He’d kept his mouth shut, saw to it that Desi Green was convicted, and still managed to keep the death penalty out of the mix.

  “Of course I have to sentence her to death,” Russ argued. “We’re talking murder one for crying out loud. How the hell do you expect me to sell a sentence without the words ‘lethal injection’ attached?”

  “I don’t want her to die! And that’s all I’m going to say about it!”

  “I don’t know how to swing it! People are going to be calling for her head on a platter!”

  “Give him more money.”

  Lawyers looked at each other, then they both stared at her, Olivia Gatewood, who hadn’t taken her eyes off Russ since she’d walked into the room.

  “Mrs. Gatewood—”

  “Promise me you’ll let her live,” she barked. “Promise me, Fleming!”

  He made that promise, and she made sure those high-powered attorneys of hers filled up her bank account.

  He’d kept her secret, and he’d kept Desi Green alive, a decision every last one of them were probably regretting right about now. The rest of them had given up, or given in to guilt. Mary Travis rotted away in guilt, Billings killed himself out of fear, but Russ wasn’t going to curl up and die. He’d bent over backward and sideways for the Gatewoods, compromising his bench, his integrity. The money they paid him was nothing to those people, but it had been a fortune to him. Junior was worth twice as much as his father had been. He could afford the best attorney money could buy, and Russ needed the best. Gatewood would help him get it.

  * * *

  That bastard Fleming looked like he’d shit his pants if you sneezed. Jail wasn’t a good fit on him, and life in a federal penitentiary would be even worse. Jordan doubted the man would be able to survive a single night in the pen.

  Jordan had driven an hour and a half to Larimer County to sit across a table from Fleming. “I’m waiting,” he said, coolly.

  “Before I start,” the judge said, nervously, “I need your word that you’ll get me a lawyer, and a damn good one, Jordan. My life is on the line here, and I can’t have anything less than the best.”

  Jordan sat as still as a statue.

  “Please,” Russ said, nervously. “You get me a lawyer, a team of lawyers to help me beat this, and I’ll drop a bomb on you that’ll blow your mind.”

  “Like I said, I’m listening.”

  Confusion and desperation flashed on Fleming’s face.

  “The night your father was killed, there were three women in that room.”

  Three? Jordan had never heard about a third woman.

  “Desi, her mother Ida.” The judge’s hand shook as he raked it over his balding head. “Desi, her mother, Ida, and Mrs. Gatewood, your mother.” The judge’s hand shook as he raked it over his balding head. “Desi didn’t shoot Gatewood,” he reluctantly admitted.

  “Desi shot him. The first officer on the scene testified that he saw her holding the gun in her hand.”

  “Because one of the other women put it there. This woman shot him, and panicked, and then shoved the weapon in Desi’s hands, moments before the police busted into the place.”

  Jordan started to process what Russ was telling him, but it didn’t make sense. Desi shot Julian. Either Russ was lying, or—

  “Which was the woman?”

  Russ paused, swallowed. “Olivia Gatewood,” he finally said.

  Jordan sat there watching the man’s lips move, but the name didn’t register.

  “Your mother shot and killed your father, Jordan.”

  “You can’t prove that,” Jordan argued defiantly.

  “Ida and Desi were both witnesses. Olivia’s prints were on that gun along with Desi’s.”

  Jordan clenched his jaws, and was about to get up and leave.

  “She was at that house, Jordan! She found out about your father’s affair, found out where his girlfriend lived, and she went there to confront him, both of them.”

  “The gun belonged to Ida Green!” Jordan argued.

  “Ida Green didn’t own a gun! It was your father’s gun, registered in his name. Olivia brought it with her, probably to shoot Ida, but she shot her husband instead.”

  No. No, that couldn’t be true. This asshole had to have been lying. Olivia wouldn’t hurt a fly. She was the victim in all this. She loved Julian, and there’s no way in hell she’d have shot him.

  “She’s the reason Desi didn’t get the death penalty,” Russ continued, pleading with his eyes for Jordan to believe him. “She begged me not to sentence her to death, even paid me another fifty thousand so that I would promise not to do it. You know me, son. I’ll give a man the death penalty for jaywalking and not give it a second thought.”

  Desi spent twenty-five years in prison for nothing? For Olivia? All sorts of questions began tumbling over each other in his mind. He’d never understood why the judge hadn’t sentenced a convicted killer to death. During the trial, he couldn’t understand Ida Green’s vague recollection of what had happened that night, unless—

  “The money,” Jordan suddenly said. “Ida Green’s money. My mother claimed that the accountants didn’t know that millions of dollars were missing.”

  “They knew, Jordan. Olivia knew, and she let Ida keep it, in exchange for her and Desi’s silence. I don’t know the details of the conversation the two of them had, but your mother knew about that money.”

  Jordan felt as if the floor had dropped out from underneath him.

  “You were so young back then,” Russ explained. “Too young to understand.”

  He’d understood some things, like paying off jurors to make sure Desi’s verdict came back guilty. They’d ex
plained that to him, and Jordan had agreed to it, but that’s because he believed that she was guilty. But, even if he hadn’t believed it, even if he’d known the truth, would he have done anything any differently?

  Fleming nervously wrung his hands together. “So you see, son…” He swallowed and cleared his throat. “You can’t leave me in here with what I know. Bail’s set at two million,” he continued, apprehensively. “I have been loyal to your family.”

  Jordan showed no emotion. “For a price, Russ.”

  Fleming shrugged. “If I weren’t afraid for my life, I wouldn’t have asked you to come. I need.… You have to get me out, Jordan.” Russ had said all he needed to say.

  Jordan stood up to leave. “I’ll make arrangements.”

  Russ took a much-needed deep breath as he watched Gatewood leave, relieved and certain that he’d be out by morning.

  Blues for Mama

  Solomon had decided to take a chance and stop by without calling first. Lately, every time he had called, he spent more time having a conversation with Desi’s voice mail than with her.

  When she answered the door, he’d forgotten all about feeling slighted and being angry that she’d been ignoring him for the last week. Desi smiled, stepped aside, and ushered him in. On the way, he stole a kiss.

  “I’m surprised you’re still up,” he said, stepping into the main living room and making himself comfortable on the sofa. Desi sat on his lap.

  “Me, too. It’s way past my bedtime.”

  He’d have loved to just go upstairs and crawl into bed with her, but Solomon had to get his head out of the clouds and follow through with the reason he’d come here in the first place.

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “Rodanthe, North Carolina,” Desi said, proudly. “Sue Parker, the writer, has a beach house out there and we thought it would be a nice, quiet spot to work on the book.”

  “Was it?”

  “It was amazing, Solomon. You ever been to the Outer Banks?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “I’m thinking of buying a place out there. The sunrises were beautiful.” Desi’s eyes lit up as she talked about the place.

  “I’ll definitely have to check it out.”

  “You should. I think you’d love it.”

  “You couldn’t have told me that you were leaving?”

  Desi looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t know that I needed to.”

  “It would’ve been the considerate thing to do, Desi.”

  He could tell he’d struck a nerve, a defensive one.

  “So, did you come out here to cuss me out or something?”

  “I’ve called quite a few times.”

  “I know.”

  “I was hoping we could talk.”

  She smiled. “We’re talking now.”

  “I want to understand what you’re doing.” He asked, seriously.

  “Right now? I’m sitting on your lap in my living room.”

  “You getting back at them?” He continued. “Is that what this is about?”

  “Back at who, Solomon?” she asked, irritated.

  “I’m not blind, Desi, and I’m not stupid. First Billings, and now Fleming? And Mary.”

  “What about them?”

  “All these people, dropping like flies. All of them in one way or another connected to you and that trial. If I can see it, so can everybody else.”

  “What do you expect me to say?”

  “Did you kill Julian?”

  He could tell from the look on her face that she hadn’t expected him to ask the question. Desi pursed her lips together and then finally made her confession. “No.”

  He had to process this. Of course when he’d asked that question, the answer could’ve gone either way. Logically, with everything he’d pieced together, it made more sense she had been innocent. But it was still a huge pill to swallow, because it meant that an entire system had caved in on her and failed miserably. Leaving in its place a woman whose only idea of justice meant lowering herself to their level and allowing herself to act as despicably as they had.

  “What you’re doing isn’t right, Desi. I know it may feel right, but it’s not, baby. You don’t go around digging up shit on people to use it against them and get revenge on them.”

  She stared unemotionally at him. “If I don’t do it, who will?”

  “The law,” he said, without hesitating.

  Desi laughed.

  Cup of Sorrow

  Jordan stood on the top level of the deck watching his mother humming to herself and swirling around in her garden as if she was dancing in a ballroom. Whatever was going on in her head, she believed it was real. Jordan watched in awe as she laughed, stopped from time to time, and appeared to chat with someone who was nothing more than a memory.

  * * *

  The walls of that small jail cell were really starting to close in on Russ Fleming. He missed Delilah, but she hadn’t come by to see him since right after he’d been arrested. He’d tried calling, but she hadn’t accepted his calls. He was counting on Gatewood to get him what he needed, bail and one hell of a law team, who could pull rabbits out of hats, and make that tape inadmissible at trial.

  * * *

  Too much was happening too fast and all at once. When had he stopped paying attention? Claire was out of the hospital and had moved back home with her parents. The divorce papers were in the process of being prepared. Irreconcilable differences. He’d taken the liberty of saving her the trouble of filing them and had made arrangements to give her 10 percent more than what the prenup called for and the house if she wanted it, for her troubles. It was the least he could do.

  * * *

  Russ had lost control. That boy didn’t have to die, and he knew that. He’d punished himself for it time and time again, since it had happened. He’d made a mistake, panicking when he found out that he had been filmed, and he took it out on the boy. He was scared that his secret would get back to Delilah, to hell with everybody else. But the last person he wanted to know about the things he did, was her. Delilah was his world. He’d loved her since they were freshmen in high school, and if it ever got back to her, what he was doing, it would’ve killed her, and that had just about killed him.

  * * *

  Two plus two equaled Lonnie and Desi. He still didn’t know how that union had come about, but the fact remained that they knew each other and probably had since before he’d met Lonnie. It was impossible for him not to feel set up. Seeing the two of them together completed the puzzle. Lonnie had had his cell number and e-mail address. And somehow, she’d discovered something that she and Desi were holding over his head, or so they thought. Any other man might have felt heartache. Jordan wasn’t any other man.

  * * *

  “Fleming.” The officer came over to his cell and unlocked the door. “You’ve got a phone call.”

  Russ’s eyes lit up. “My wife?”

  “Don’t know,” he said unemotionally.

  It had to be her. And if it wasn’t, he didn’t care to talk to anyone else, except Gatewood, or lawyers he’d found for him. Maybe that’s who it was. Russ had a lawyer of his own, but the man wasn’t savvy enough to handle this type of case. He hurried out of the cell, and followed the officer down the hall.

  * * *

  Russ Fleming was a drowning man, a desperate one who was willing to take down the whole ship to save himself. He could’ve told Jordan that the sky was falling and Jordan would have believed that, but to tell him that Olivia had been the one to murder Julian …

  Olivia danced barefoot in the grass, laughing, with her face turned up to the sun. She looked happy, and whole. She looked radiant. Jordan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she was better off, he thought sadly. She could remember Julian in a better light, and she could remember how he had loved her, and what the future held for both of them. She could grow old with her husband.

  * * *

  “I don’t understand,” Russ said, nervously looking
at the officers filling the room. “I was told I had a phone call.”

  They never said a word to him. He watched in amazement, speechless as they began pulling their batons from their holsters.

  “I-I was told I had a phone—”

  The first blow whipped across his shoulders on his back. The next one landed hard on the back of his knee, forcing him to crumple to the floor.

  He thought Delilah had called. He thought maybe his lawyers would call.

  The pain was excruciating, blinding, his own screams echoed in his head, as he melted into the floor.

  * * *

  Olivia finally stopped dancing, gazed up at Jordan standing on the deck, and put her hand above her eyes to shield them from the sun.

  “Julian!” She smiled. “Is that you? Hey there, honey!”

  Jordan smiled. “It’s me, sugah,” he said. “It’s the man of your dreams.”

  She laughed. “You’re so silly!” She laughed. “Silly man!”

  * * *

  Russ couldn’t walk. They dragged him to the infirmary, and told the nurses something to the effect that he got into a fight with another inmate—and lost. They all laughed. Russ couldn’t open his eyes. The scent of blood filled his nostrils. There wasn’t a muscle on his body that didn’t hurt, and it hurt to take a deep breath. Delilah wasn’t going to call him ever again. And Gatewood wasn’t sending any lawyers. But he had sent a message, and Russ got it, loud and clear.

  * * *

  Jordan looked at his watch. One down. Two to go.

  This Dance Will Be Ending

  “What the hell is this, Lonnie?”

  Lonnie had been wanting to tell Desi this part. This was the hard part.

  “What’s it look like?”

  Desi studied the documents lying on the table in front of her. “How’d you get Jordan Gatewood’s birth certificate?”

  “Certificates.” Lonnie corrected her. “Look again.”

  Desi looked at both of them again, more carefully. “Who’s Joel Tunsen?” she asked, looking at Lonnie. “Julian’s name is on this one? Lonnie?”

  “Look at the dates. One is dated three months earlier. Olivia and Julian had the birth certificate changed, Desi. He wasn’t Julian’s biological son. A man named Joel Tunsen is his father. And please don’t ask me if I’m sure. Just, trust me. Julian may have been your father, but not his.”