“Are you sure it’s him in the photos at the mental health center?”
“Absolutely. Hopefully, we’ll get some information from the center about him. But I’m not sure the information will help much though – they’ll probably just tell you that he was evil.”
“Why do you say that?”
“All alcoholics are evil. That’s just who they are. They’re all the same.”
“We’ve talked about this, Penny.” Bill is firm. “You need to keep your personal opinions in check. This job is not a soapbox for personal views. This is a professional environment, and I expect your personal opinions to be left at the door. If you continue like that, I will have to fire you.”
“Alcoholics are a mark on society that should be stepped on,” Penny mumbles.
Bill pauses for a moment to consider the aggression in Penny’s voice. Her voice is seductive enough to talk on a sex line but aggressive enough to commentate fight night.
“How many offices have you worked at?”
“A few too many. I usually spend a week or two doing admin and then move on to the next position.” She pauses for a moment. “Would you like to know the name of the mental health center?”
“Go on.”
“He spent time at the Wells Community Center for Mental Health. I’ve been there – my boyfriend’s mother works there, and we drop her off each morning on the way to work. Caleb hates the place, but she loves it. It’s her life’s work. She manages the center and dedicates her life to helping others. She’s a good person.”
“Wells? I know the place. They keep reports about their clients—”
“Already onto that. I’ve got a copy here. I called my boyfriend’s mother, and she couldn’t have been happier to help. She sent it straight through.”
“And what do the reports say?”
“They say that Gerard went into the center after the subsequent breakdown of his marriage. The report says that it tore him apart – possibly suffering from Clinical Depression and anxiety issues. The reports then go on to state that he started using alcohol to self-medicate. Eventually, they referred him to Alcoholics Anonymous because his issues were too much. The center had to let him go. But they should have charged him and locked him away for good.”
“Poor guy,” Bill remarks.
“Deserved what he got,” Penny mumbles.
“Penny, don’t judge people when you don’t know their situations,” Bill states firmly. “This was a good man in a horrible situation. When a child is lost, no matter the age, it can tear down even the toughest souls. I couldn’t imagine the mental anguish that it must have caused the man. And when a marriage breaks down – when a heart is torn to pieces – it is very hard to reestablish a life. The people that a person once relied on, for so much support, turn their backs when they’re needed the most, and the world around the person crumbles. The situations that Gerard faced must have crushed him, causing a lot of mental issues. Not many people could walk through those experiences untouched.”
“Why are you so attached to him, Bill? He was a drunk. He had his chance in life and didn’t take it. Just because life dealt him some bad cards, doesn’t give him the right to throw it away. And drinking alcohol is doing just that. He had a chance, and he threw it away. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”
Bill doesn’t respond to Penny’s statement. He doesn’t feel the need to justify his feelings to her.
“You said that your boyfriend’s mother works there. What’s her name?”
“Valerie Wood. She said she would be happy to help in any way that she can. She’s always trying to help someone.”
“Do you know her well?”
“Well enough. We ride together to work each morning. She thinks… Well, she thinks the same as you do. She doesn’t really appreciate my opinions.”
“Good. I’m going to go down there and discuss the case with her. Call her and make an appointment for later this afternoon.”
“I’m onto it, boss,” Penny responds. “When I saw Nicole this morning, she mentioned that I might be needed at the trial – to take notes and run any urgent tasks for you. I was quite excited by that. Will you need me at the trial?”
“No, Penny. It’s not going to get that far.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going to catch the killer before then.”
Chapter 21
The busy café is buzzing with the hipster coffee crowd. The drinks are served in recycled jars, the food is so organic that it is almost still alive, and the barista’s beard is so big it doubles as a sweater. The busy crowd is hip, trendy, and young.
The older figures of Bill Harvey and Nicole Cowan stick out like grandparents at a music festival.
“I don’t know why you insist on coming to places like this,” Nicole comments. “Every time we have coffee, you take me to a new place, but in the end, it’s still just coffee.”
“Places like this are different. I really like different. It’s good to be able to see the world from another point of view. If we went to the same diner every week, for our whole lives, we would only see the same things, every week, for the rest of our lives. I need more than that. I like being on the cutting edge, pushing limits, thinking differently. I need new experiences, excitement, ideas. Going to new places keeps me going.”
“That’s why we’re different, Bill. I could easily go to the same place for the rest of my life. I don’t need new experiences. I just need to work towards what I love.” Nicole readjusts her shirt in an effort to look good for the man sitting across from her. Despite her shaved head and the tattoos covering her left arm, she still dresses like a regular bookkeeper during the week – white shirt, black pencil skirt, lackluster shoes. “So what’s this about? Why the need to see me so quickly?”
“It’s about Penny.”
“Ah,” Nicole responds knowingly.
“By that reaction, I guess you know what I’m going to say.”
“I think so.” She sighs. “She can’t keep her mouth shut, can she?”
Bill nods his response.
“Sometimes, she’s really good. Sometimes, she doesn’t say a word. Other times, well, she isn’t. She hasn’t really learned to keep her mouth shut yet. She’s a bit loose with her opinions, and she doesn’t mind vocalizing them.”
“Those sorts of opinions don’t belong in my office. I understand the fire in her stomach, but my office is a professional environment, and I can’t have that sort of behavior in my line of work. It’s inappropriate. If she doesn’t settle down, I’ll have no choice but to let her go.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Nicole grimaces. “She’s getting better. She really is. Penny isn’t as bad as she used to be, and I guess, I compare her to the times when she was really bad. But she’s always had this problem. Her opinions are loud and crazy. She’s been fired so many times for running her mouth off at inappropriate times.”
“I’ve warned her to settle down, but I thought it might be good if you do the same. I need her to keep those opinions in check, or I can’t have her in the office. I don’t want to fire her, but she is giving me no choice.”
“I’ll talk to her.” Nicole nods.
She feels guilty.
She pushed Bill to take on Penny for the temporary position, and although she warned him about Penny’s past, maybe she didn’t warn him enough.
When Penny Pearson came into her care as an eight-year-old, she was a cute blonde girl who had been through a lot. Penny’s mother was meek, a person that accepted her fate without argument.
Nicole, however, was the opposite. She was different. Stronger. More determined. She hated seeing her little sister give up on things without a fight, and so she set about toughening up Penny.
She would not let her niece suffer the same fate.
Nicole encouraged her to express her opinions, to never take a backward step. She led by example, and Penny soon took it all in.
And when Penny hit her teenage years, she really fou
nd her own voice. Hormones and attitude; an explosive mix. But nothing had made Nicole prouder. She had taken a quiet girl and transformed her into a wildcat.
Penny yelled when needed, fought when required, and roared when she felt like it.
Except Penny never learned how to control those emotions. She didn’t have an off switch.
It soon became apparent that this would become a problem. After being expelled from two high schools, Nicole started to take her to therapy sessions where she learned to talk about her feelings, instead of screaming them away.
It worked, for the most part.
As she grew older, Penny controlled her violent outbursts thanks to the skills she learned in counseling; however, the remnants of Nicole’s teaching are still clear.
Penny just doesn’t know when to close her mouth.
“Are the legal studies going well?”
“They are.” Nicole smiles. Bill Harvey is the only man that has ever paid her any real interest. She’s much too strong for most men.
“It’s very honorable, the path you’re taking. Helping those that can’t afford it.”
“I just want to do my bit for the world.” Nicole grins. “We’re studying self-defense at the moment.”
After twenty years as a bookkeeper, trawling through spreadsheets and receipts, Nicole had her mid-life crisis; she bought a motorbike, shaved her head after a lifetime of long hair, had her left arm inked, and started studying law.
Motivated to enter the legal fraternity after volunteering at a domestic violence shelter, Nicole Cowan wanted to help those who found themselves in situations where the law is hard for them. Law had always interested her. The twists and turns of a case had kept her glued to the pages of her books for many long hours into the night.
“Self-defense is an interesting concept. You’re allowed to use force to defend yourself if you feel in danger.” Bill sips at his warm coffee. “I’ve defended a few people charged with assault when, in reality, they were acting in self-defense. It’s complex, but that defense is vital to the structure of our society.”
“It’s got me thinking though. If you encourage someone to attack you, is it still self-defense if you injure them? If you’re making them react, can you still claim self-defense?”
“If they use force, then you are allowed to return the same.” He smiles as he talks about the complexities of legal studies. It reminds him of his days when he was fresh into law, and the concepts were still new and fascinating.
“Interesting.” She smiles at him, twirling her dark brunette hair with one finger.
Sitting with a posture perfected after years of martial arts training, she never takes a backward step, and most men are intimidated by that. Most men run a mile when they realize just how tough she is.
But not Bill Harvey.
That’s why she adores this man. He isn’t intimidated by her martial arts competition wins, her steely stare, or her broad shoulders and muscular arms.
She likes that.
A lot.
After they go to and fro for the next ten minutes about the intricacy of lawful self-defense, Bill places his empty coffee cup on the table. “So what are we going to do with Penny?”
“Just give her another chance. I’ll talk to her again, and tell her that she really needs to behave in that professional environment. She really, really loves working for you, so that should be motivation enough.”
Bill looks around the room, thinking over his options. “I’ll give her a second chance, but she needs to hold her tongue. If she doesn’t, she’s out.”
“She’ll listen to me.” Nicole grins. “She always does.”
Chapter 22
As Bill Harvey walks into the Wells Community Center for Mental Health, the first thing that strikes him is the subdued mood.
This is a center that Bill knows well, but he’s still surprised by the feeling in the foyer.
The center is more reminiscent of a drab school building than a place to care for those with mental illnesses. Plain red brick on the outside; bare white walls on the inside. The carpet is dull gray, the walls devoid of any posters, color or pictures.
Almost sterile.
“Bill Harvey?! Well, I’ll be!” The lady behind the front desk is large, loud, and full of love. Running out from behind the desk, she embraces him in a hug, pulling him close and squeezing him against her sizable bosoms. “It’s been a long time.”
“Life has gotten in the way.” Bill smiles as she slowly releases him, keeping her hands on his arms. “It’s good to set foot back in here. I have a lot of good memories from volunteering here.”
Up until five years ago, Bill spent an hour each week talking to people, helping them, and guiding them to recovery. He would sit with the mental health patients, listen to their story and let them know that they weren’t alone in the world. A listening ear, a touch on the shoulder, a kind word when needed.
After watching his sister battle depression and loneliness for many years, he learned that it was time, an ear, and human contact that many people needed to help ease their pain. He wasn’t a psychologist, but that’s not what they needed from him. They needed to feel connected to the world.
He could draw out a great story from within even the quietest person. Although he would never claim that he helped cure them of any illness, he knew that the time he gave to them eased their pain.
It was his way of giving back to the community after they had helped his isolated sister recover from her issues.
And listening to their stories helped him deal with a lot of the emotions he was struggling with at the time. When his wife first became ill with cancer, he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He drank too much, avoided his wife, and spent too many hours in the office. But coming here, listening to the pain of those worse off than him, helped him gain perspective. It developed a sense of gratitude for where he was in life.
That perspective, that sense of gratitude, put him back on the right path.
But life got in the way.
After his wife passed away, he couldn’t bring himself back. Although he still sends a monthly check to the center, he knows that the center needs hands to help, as much as they need the money.
“You look lovely, Maria. You haven’t aged a day since I last saw you.” Bill smiles his charming smile.
“Oh, Bill. You always knew how to make a person feel good about themselves.”
As the head counselor at the center, Maria Bale has seen pain, sadness, and depression on a daily basis for the past ten years. Approaching sixty-five years old, she knows this is her way to leave a legacy, a way to make the world a better place. When a man with a smile like Bill Harvey’s walks into her room, she couldn’t be happier. It is such a contrast from her day job.
“How’s the center going these days?”
“We’re going well these days. Obviously, mental health has gotten more coverage in the media, and that means more acceptance for our patients. And because of that, we also receive more funding – both from the government and from private donors. Things have been going along well. Being accepted means a lot to some people.”
“Acceptance is the key.” He looks around the foyer and sees it has barely changed since he was last here – same dull red counter at the end, same worn beige carpet, same light still busted in the corner of the room.
“Once people accept that mental illness is as much a disease as a physical injury, then there will be a lot more knowledge in the community. Knowledge is powerful. People struggling with these things need our time, not judgment.”
“Well said.”
“You know, we have a new meditation course starting soon, and we are always looking for more people to help out?”
“Ah, Maria.” Bill smiles. “Always looking to draw people in. I’m sorry, but I don’t have the time at the moment. I’m busy and—”
“Of course.” She waves his excuse away. “You don’t need to make up excuses for me. I know how much time and h
ard work you have put into this place. You shouldn’t feel guilty for not being here. And thank you for the monthly check donations that you still send. Those amounts mean the world to us.”
“It’s my pleasure. After what this place did for my sister, bringing her back from the brink of depression, it means the world to me. The fact that someone is there when people need it, the fact that you are here, Maria, changes lives. Nothing is more valuable than that.”
Maria smiles proudly. “So how can I help you, Bill?”
“I have an appointment to talk with Valerie Wood, the center manager.”
“Of course.” Maria smiles. “Follow me. Her office is over here.”
He follows Maria as she moves past the counter and into the tight hallway, big enough for barely two people to pass each other. Maria gently knocks on one of the office doors. Popping her head into the room, she whispers, “Bill Harvey is here to see you.”
The reply is loud. “Send him through.”
Maria opens the door wide enough for him to enter. “Good to see you, Bill. You look great.”
“Thanks, Maria, you too.” Confidently, he walks into the small office, just large enough to fit a small desk, four chairs, a bookshelf, and a narrow bench for the coffee dripper.
“I’m sorry that the office is so small.” Valerie Wood stands, offering her handshake as a warm welcome.
“Money is better spent on other things than office space.” Bill warmly shakes her hand.
“Very true. Please, sit down.” Valerie Wood is used to meeting high-powered, confident men. In the first twenty years of her working life, she was the one smashing glass ceilings. She fought harder than the men, argued louder, worked longer hours. That was the only way she could get in front.
She climbed the ladders, making her way to CEO of a large marketing firm. She was proud, but it wasn’t her calling in life. Even with the accomplishments, she felt unfilled.
And despite her success in the corporate world, her life wasn’t easy. Her husband lost his left arm in a work accident, and he spent his days unemployed, living off the compensation. When her husband first hit her, she didn’t worry too much. He was drunk, and she excused the behavior. The second time, it was harder.
Fire and Justice: A Legal Thriller (Bill Harvey Book 3) Page 9
