His Judgement

by Piper Stone

  “No!” Craze flanked her side, preventing her from opening the door. “Competition? I knew Mr. Martin was considering running, but honestly, I have no influence on this case. I can’t. Don’t you know that?”

  “Why not recuse yourself? Why allow this to go forward and have any cloud there? Why?” Joelle gave him a hateful look. “Why?”

  “My entire career I’ve fought for those who are innocent, making certain they have a fair trial. I pride myself in my work ethics. I’ve never backed down because of controversy. I haven’t made the decision to run yet and in truth, given everything that’s going on with this case, I’m not entirely certain Mr. Martin would have a snowball’s chance in hell even if he was found innocent. I’m certain you of all people can see that.”

  Her eyes darted back and forth, never blinking. “That may be true, Judge Mitchell, but fairness, honesty and trust are in the eye of the beholder, trust and respect only given to those who hold themselves in the highest esteem. People like that are difficult to find.”

  Craze slumped against the car. The underlying meaning was clear. She wanted nothing to do with him. “Joelle, no matter what happens, please know I didn’t use you. I had no idea who you were. I didn’t hear your full name until today.”

  She remained silent, her expression one of hatred. “I don’t believe you, but I do have one more question.”

  “Anything and I’m telling you the truth.”

  “Are you going to recuse yourself or have you decided not to run for Congress?”

  Exhaling, he looked away. Anything he told her wasn’t going to matter. “I’m staying on the case and I haven’t decided whether to run as of yet.”

  After a few seconds, she smiled and caressed his cheek, her touch light and delicate. When she dropped her hand, her eyes were filled with sadness. “I believed in you, in us. I thought I’d found everything I’d been looking for my entire life. Instead, I found another lying asshole. Good luck with your campaign and I’ll see you in court, because there is no other place on this earth where you’ll ever see me again.”

  Chapter 9

  “I’m here with Chunky Monkey ice cream, two bottles of wine, a bag of Doritos and chocolate, as requested. Now are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

  Weary of crying, Joelle had finally reached out to Miranda, determined to soothe her soul once and for all. “Only two bottles of wine?”

  “Okay, I have two more in the car. Jesus. You look like shit,” Miranda huffed as she strolled into Joelle’s condo. “You better be ready to talk.”

  “Talking is highly overrated,” she stated as she grabbed the ice cream out of her friend’s hand. She walked with purpose into the kitchen, opening the carton along the way. She pointed to the counter before grabbing two spoons out of a drawer. “Wine opener and glasses are there. That’s your job.” She dug into the gooey mix, shoveling a huge spoonful into her mouth.

  “Bossy bitch you are. What is going on?” Dropping the other goodies on the counter, she opened the wine and poured two half glasses.

  “Pour them to the rim or bring the bottle,” Joelle said as she grabbed the bags and proceeded to walk back into the living room. She plopped on the couch and placed the ice cream and other treats within reaching distance. “Alexa, play eighties music.”

  Here’s a station playing eighties music. All eighties.

  As the sound of Bon Jovi filtered into the room, Joelle slumped into the cushions, grabbing the glass of wine out of Miranda’s hand before she could sit down.

  “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to tie you to the couch.” Miranda thumped the bottle on the table and curled on the couch.

  “Who says anything is wrong? I’m winning the case. Ha. I’ll definitely be winning the case.”

  “Let’s take a look at the evidence. Shall we? You asked for ice cream, the only kind you eat when you’re upset. You demanded chocolate, a craving you refuse to cater to and you’re half finished with your glass of wine. Should I throw in you’re listening to the only music that makes you feel good, according to you, Miss Powerful Attorney? Come on. What gives?”

  Joelle yanked the wine off the table, refilling her glass as she thought about Craze. Yes, he’d called and texted her several times during the last few days. She hadn’t taken the bait. The man was a pig. Thank God, she had the weekend to try and recover. “Craze.”

  “I was right. You’re in love with him.”

  “I broke up with him.” Saying the words out loud was horrifying.

  “Why?” Miranda reached over, taking her hand.

  Joelle wrinkled her nose. “He isn’t who he says he is.”

  “I already told you that, but you can work out a relationship with him. He’s not in the same firm. Attorneys can make the best bed partners.” She grinned.

  “No, you don’t understand. He’s not a practicing attorney. Craze is none other than Judge Randolph Mitchell, not Ryland Simpson. Judge Mitchell is the judge on this case, the very one I’m working on.”

  “Oh my God. Are you certain?” Miranda choked.

  Joelle cocked her head and frowned.

  “Duh. You’re not kidding?”

  “Nope. I was shocked to say the least.”

  Miranda opened both her mouth and eyes wide. “Okay. Wait a minute. Wait a fucking minute. Now I know. The judge? The judge who is considering running for Congress and everyone knows he’s going to win if he does?”

  “Why does everyone know this about Craze but me?”

  “Because you’re so busy keeping your head stuck up your ass, you refuse to even watch the television, let alone read a newspaper!”

  Joelle narrowed her eyes. “This has been in the paper?”

  “That’s why the name sounded familiar, but I was wrong about the reasons. I followed this trail that led me to Ryland. Ryland has been involved in some very high-profile drug related murder cases so he’s been in the paper right next to the huge question about whether Mitchell is going to run. Wow. Shit. I’m so sorry.” Miranda groaned then leaned over.

  “Nothing to be sorry about. You tried to help me.”

  “Okay, so he’s the man and I suspect you two are heavily involved. He could recuse himself from this case.” Miranda gulped her wine.

  “Refuses.” Joelle made a point to find the back editions of the paper.

  “Hmmm. Okay, he has to have a good reason.”

  “Oh, he does.” She swirled the wine, took a huge gulp, then proceeded to tell her the story. When she was finished, her best friend had also refilled her wine and was digging into the ice cream.

  Miranda held her spoon in the air. “Let me get this straight, there’s some reporter sniffing around about you, Anastasia Wainwright and our sexy judge.”

  “Yeah, in layman’s terms.”

  “Okay. So, someone wants something.”

  “Gregory Brentwood found the perfect way to eliminate his competition.” Joelle yanked open the Doritos and grabbed a handful.

  “Why don’t you just expose him? Oh yeah, the picture of you and the illustrious judge. He’s more than a jerk off. I could hire a hitman for you.”

  Joelle gave her another look.

  Miranda held up her hands. “Fine. No creative ideas.”

  “This is serious. I’m backed into a corner. If I win, I’ll always question whether I won for the right reasons or if Gregory threw the case. If I lose, then my promotion might be shot. Gregory might release the photo of me anyway and no doubt Craze will be ruined. All in a day’s work.” Joelle growled and alternately took a sip of wine, a handful of chips and a spoonful of ice cream. The chocolate would come next.

  Miranda closed her eyes and rubbed her finger across her mouth. “The single question you have to ask yourself is whether or not you believe Craze cared about you or whether he is a shithead.”

  “I honestly am not sure. The picture with Anastasia means he’s seeing someone else.”

  “That could have been taken
months ago. You don’t know that. Do you?” Miranda snapped.

  “No, but—”

  “No buts!” Miranda interrupted. “He’s had other women in his life, just like you have men. You said he told you he found the right one as in you. Yes?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know if that’s true or not.”

  “Bullshit. You know. Your gut and little voice are both telling you the truth. I think you refuse to listen to yourself, preferring to drown your sorrows in awful, yet delicious, ice cream. Hand over that carton, woman.”

  Joelle chuckled and slid the ice cream in her direction. Miranda was right. She had to come to terms with what was going on and determine her own truth. She’d seen the hurt look in his eyes, had done nothing but dream about the terrible event. Perhaps Anastasia had helped him find his true self. “Craze used me to influence the case for political gain.”

  Miranda wagged her finger. “One problem with your scenario here.”

  “What?”

  “You found Craze, followed him into a bar. Remember?”

  Joelle shrunk back as the words sunk in. She had forgotten all about the fact she’d chased him down. What if he was telling her the truth? “Oh God. What is wrong with me?”

  “Nothing is wrong with you other than you found the right man and you almost fucked it up. I have a thought so hear me out.”

  “Well, I need to do something.” Had she just slammed the door on the happiest she’d ever been in her life?

  “Why don’t you hit Gregory where it really hurts? After all, the guy is blackmailing you and last time I checked, that’s against the law.”

  “True. Okay, I’m listening. Tell me more,” Joelle said as she leaned in. No, he could have lured her into the bar. Yeah. That’s what happened. Convincing herself of the ploy was going to take some effort.

  Miranda’s eyes twinkled as she relayed her idea. When she was finished, she huffed and grabbed the wine. “A damn good idea if I say so myself. I think that deserves a toast. Don’t you? You’re many things, dear friend, but you’re not a quitter. Fight for what you want.”

  The idea was a damn good one. She mulled over the prospect, clinked glasses and picked up her phone. At the very least she was going to fry Gregory’s ass.

  “Uh-oh. What are you going to do? I can see that determined look in your eyes.”

  Joelle grinned. “You’re right. I’m a tenacious wench. I like your idea. No time like the present.” She found the number easily enough and made the call. “Good evening. Yes, I know it’s Friday night.”

  “Good girl!” Miranda squealed.

  “This might be unorthodox, but can I meet with you early Monday morning?” This would either mean an end or a beginning. Either way, the truth was going to be told.

  Craze hesitated, remaining on his Harley. He’d stopping trying to call Joelle sometime on Friday. She refused to have anything to do with him. While he couldn’t necessarily blame her, the facts surrounding the situation were completely off-kilter. He wanted her back, would fight to do so, but wasn’t going to force anything. Besides, she had too much of a tenacious attitude to listen to anything he had to say, certainly not after what else she must have heard. No doubt she’d delved into his political aspirations through the various newsletter articles and television interviews. He looked guilty as charged.

  Then again, he wasn’t going down without a fight. No one was going to take away his livelihood. He had enough influential friends to find out additional information regarding Michael Trent. This was more than a simple blackmail situation.

  He looked up at the unassuming building. Michael was home. Craze had followed him, making certain his information was correct. What he was about to do could get him kicked off the bench, even disbarred. Forget about his run for Congress. He’d be run out of town if this didn’t go well.

  However, he was going to try. He slid off the bike and secured his helmet. As he walked to the apartment, he thought about what he was going to say. This wasn’t going to be easy, but a necessity. He stopped just as he reached the front door, debating one last time. No, this was the right and only thing he could do.

  After walking inside the unsecured building, he noticed the bank of mailboxes. He found the right apartment with ease and headed to the elevator. Surprise could be his friend. Alone in the elevator, his thoughts drifted to the way Joelle had looked at him the day in the parking lot. Anger was there, but he could see how despondent Joelle was, her sadness overwhelming. She’d believed in him even more than he’d ever believed in himself.

  Letting her down had been the worst feeling in his life. When he reached the floor, he exhaled as he eased out into the hall. He was determined to find out who was working with the little jerk, one way or the other.

  He took long strides and when he reached the door, he knocked sharply.

  “Yeah?” The voice was aggravated.

  “I need to speak with you. Now.” Craze kept his voice even.

  Footsteps sounded and as the door was flung open, Michael was shocked then he grinned. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Judge?”

  Craze pushed his way in. The force slamming the door against the wall. “You and I are going to have a chat.” He turned and glared at Michael, eyeing his cagey expression.

  “We are?” Chuckling, Michael closed the door. “And why should I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’m going to rip your throat out before I destroy you. Are we clear?”

  “Threatening me. That will be an excellent headline for my story.” Michael walked past him, bumping Craze’s shoulder as he did.

  Craze kept his cool. He clenched his fists and turned to face the man. “Who are you working with and how much money did they pay you to find shit out about me?”

  “Who am I working with? Why would you think I’m working with anyone?”

  “Because you’re not intelligent enough to come up with this idea. I’ve checked you out. You have no references to speak of. What few stories you have border on fluff pieces. Someone tipped you off about Anastasia. You might think this is your fifteen minutes of fame, but I assure you, you’re wrong.”

  “Insulting me as well. Let me grab a pen and paper.” Michael shifted, but he kept his smile.

  “I’m not kidding here. I will use what I know.”

  “What the hell do you think you know?”

  Grinning, Craze could see a hint of worry, even fear in the man’s eyes. He moved closer, crowding Michael’s space. “I suggest that you either tell me who you are working with and I’ll be happy to give you an exclusive…”

  “Or?” Michael huffed.

  “Or, your job will be pulled out from under you.”

  Snorting, Michael shook his head. “You don’t scare me. You have nothing on me, but what I have on you will ruin your career.”

  Craze tipped his head as he pulled out his phone and dialed the number. “Anastasia. Thank you for taking my call.” He winked at Michael, who was turning red. “Yes, he’s right here. I believe if you have a discussion with him, that might help. Hold on.” He held out the phone. “Anastasia would like to have a discussion with you. You do remember, the Governor’s wife, the one you’re trying to blackmail?”

  Sweat trickled down the sides of Michael’s face. He swallowed before taking the phone. “Yes?”

  While Craze wasn’t entirely certain what Anastasia was telling Michael, he suspected she was using the fact Michael not only had a record, but had lied about attending college, any college, before taking the job with the Sun, a newspaper conglomerate owned by her husband. He held a smile as they talked.

  “Yes, I do understand. I’ll see what I can do.” Michael said every word through clenched teeth, his eyes as large as saucers. He thrust the phone back toward Craze, his body shaking.

  “Thank you for your help,” Craze said.

  Anastasia laughed. “You and I are kindred spirits. You allowed me to taste a part of the woman I thought I wanted. I enjoyed it but you were righ
t to end our crazy, kinky relationship. I’m ready to be a responsible wife and mother now. Even though I had a special arrangement with my husband, he and I have talked. We’re going to make a go of our marriage again. He said the woman he knew in his twenties was back. I owe that to you, therefore so does he. Whatever you need, we’re both happy to help.”

  Craze was happy to hear it. Thank God, he hadn’t fucked up everything in his life. “I think I can handle the situation from here.”

  “I have no doubt you can. Enjoy becoming the next Senator. My husband is planning on endorsing you. You deserve the achievement,” Anastasia purred before ending the call.

  After slipping the phone into his back pocket, Craze folded his arms. “Pays to have influential friends. I suggest you get some. Perhaps I can help. The offer is still on the table, an exclusive if you give me the information I want.”

  Michael shifted from foot to foot. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “Trust? There is a fascinating word. You don’t, but my suggestion is that you take a chance. You have nothing to lose at this point. He held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

  Michael looked away and shook his head. “On one condition.”

  “You’re in no position to ask for anything.”

  “One.”

  “I’ll hear you out.” Craze took a step closer.

  “Ruin the bastard.”

  The words surprised him. “Okay. Now you’re going to have to tell me why.”

  “Because he was blackmailing me into ruining you. He won’t stop. Trust me. The man is a fucking asshole.”

  Craze could see by the look in the man’s eyes that he was afraid. “You have a deal. Now tell me everything you know and exactly what happened and I will help you as well as give you the exclusive.” What he heard made him smile. Now, he knew exactly what he needed to do.