Dark Justice

by Sinclair, Rachel

  I sighed. “I had a talk with my mother about throwing out her pot, and she said that she was going to. But she drinks a lot and has friends over all the time, and I just don’t want to leave the girls at home alone with her.” I had actually found a part-time nanny, whose name was Angela, to come over and watch the girls when I wasn’t around. Arabella bitched and moaned about that, of course, but she had calmed down about that whole situation and tried to make the best of it. I think that she finally figured out that being supervised was just how things were going to be, and, since she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her little sister having a stable home, she was just going to keep her mouth shut. “I hired a nanny to watch them, so that they’re never home alone with my mother.”

  “That’s tough,” Alisha said. “But be honest with your social worker about your mother and your living situation. Tell her that you’re working on getting another place, and be honest about your mother’s issues. But, as I said, your being named their guardian does advantage you greatly. I don’t think that you’ll lose custody of those two girls, not unless your mother is seriously deranged. But, even so, it sounds like you’re handling it well, getting a nanny involved and all.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “You’ve been really helpful.”

  “Well, if there’s anything else I can do, just let me know. If you want me to handle that case, I will do that.”

  I nodded my head. “I’ll hire you,” I said. There was no way that I was going to take advantage and try to get free legal work. “Of course.”

  “Of course,” she said. “But I’ll give you a cut rate.” She smiled. “Listen, I heard that you have the Addison Wentworth case. How is that one going? I’ve been reading in the papers all about it. Did you know that she was having an affair with Senator Nash?”

  “What? No, I didn’t know that. How did you-”

  “It just hit the news today. Like, within the last five minutes. Breaking news. Check CNN.”

  I logged onto the CNN cable site, and, just as Alisha said, there was breaking news about Addison’s affair with Senator Michael Nash. Apparently, the prosecutor’s office had subpoenaed The Global Examiner. They got a tip that The Examiner might have a backlog of stories about Michael Nash and Addison Wentworth. The Examiner had fought the subpoena on First Amendment grounds, and tried to say that the subpoena would force them to out confidential sources, but the judge wasn’t having it. Judge Hammer had ordered The Examiner to turn over records regarding Addison for an in camera inspection, with the prosecutor, Neera Tierdan, present along with the attorney for The Examiner. Somehow, I wasn’t ever notified that such a thing was happening, which pissed me off to no end. Once the judge determined that the records were relevant to this case, he ordered them released.

  That was the first that I had heard about Michael’s affair with Addison.

  I then started to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

  Addison was pregnant. She was having an affair with a powerful senator who was currently exploring a run for president. Her baby probably belonged to him. Said senator had a saintly wife, who was dying of breast cancer, or, at least, the press had portrayed her as saintly.

  I suddenly knew that I was going to have to pay a visit to Senator Nash.

  I was going to have to do it soon.

  Chapter 28

  August 20

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Michael had showed up at the doorstep of Shaylene Dixon. Shaylene was a hooker that he had gotten involved with and had been involved with for the past six months.

  He knew that he didn’t have to slum with Shaylene. And that was what he was doing - slumming. He knew it. She knew it. Neither of them much cared, though, because the sex between them was absolutely dynamite. She allowed him to live out any and all fantasies he had, and she was always game for anything. Role-play, S&M, whatever it was that he wanted, she gave it to him, and she gave it to him better than anybody ever had in his life.

  He knew that the reason why she gave it to him was because she was always so drunk out of her mind that anything went with her. That was how alcohol apparently worked on Shaylene - it caused her to say “yes” to anything and everything. Because of that, she was very valuable to him.

  He had met her in a bar. He was, as usual, incognito, deeply so, which he had to be whenever he was cruising for a new pick-up. She had come right up to him, and he loved that she was so bold and also that she was extremely hot. Hot body, gorgeous brown hair, beautiful blue eyes. She looked just like Addison to him, and, when they went to a hotel that night, she did things that Addison never would.

  He had the best of both worlds, as far as he was concerned - he had a woman who looked just like Addison, but who was a total and complete freak. She charged him money that night, a lot of money, because she knew that she had him wrapped around her finger. At that point, he would have given her anything, and, so, when she demanded $3,000 from him, he didn’t even bat an eyelash. He knew that she was going to spend it all on booze and drugs, but he didn’t care. As long as she did that thing with her tongue, he would have paid her anything.

  “I need to talk to you,” Michael said. He and Violet knew that, in order for him to not be blamed for Addison’s murder, and he knew that he was going to be a suspect once Sonny gave up the goods, which he was going to have to do, he was going to have to train the cops and prosecutors onto somebody else.

  He and Violet decided that that somebody else was Shaylene’s son, Carter. Carter Dixon was perfect for what they needed to do. Shaylene had complained to Michael about Carter’s obsession, which was a Reddit site where he moaned and groaned about his life to a bunch of guys who actively hated women. Michael had found out about the Incel community, which was what Carter was a part of, and, when he read some of the messages on that site, he knew that he found his man. It was so convenient, too, considering that Shaylene would do anything for money. Absolutely anything.

  “What about?” Shaylene started one of her coughing fits, so she lit up a cigarette and inhaled it. “Want one?”

  That was the only time that he smoked, really - after sex with her. It was that mind-blowing that he had to have something to take the edge off.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Listen, I need something from you. I need it right now. I’ll pay you top dollar for it, but I need it badly.”

  “What? What do you need?”

  “I need a hair from your son. Just one hair will do.”

  “That’s all? Why do you need it?” She coughed some more, started wheezing, and then she started to laugh hysterically. “You gonna plant it at some murder site, or something, so that Carter gets busted for it?”

  He didn’t smile or laugh when she said that. He cleared his throat. “Um,” he said.

  “Oh. I see.” She frowned. “Well, I don’t know. I mean…” And then she shrugged her shoulders. “Then again, it’ll get that little shit out of my house for good, wouldn’t it? Goddamn, what I wouldn’t give to not have to deal with his bullshit every goddamned day. He’s always trying to get me to do things for him. Cook him dinner, clean up this shithole, give him money, help him with his homework. Well, no, he never bugs me about helping him with his homework, but why is that? He must think that I’m too fucking stupid to help him out with his homework. I’m sick of his demands.”

  “So, you’ll do it?” At that moment, Michael was remarkably conscience-free about what he was going to do. He was in survival mode, on auto-pilot. That he was about to ruin somebody’s life never even entered his mind. He could only see that he had to fight for his own life. The innocent life of Carter Dixon, a boy that he didn’t even know, was not even a factor in his decisions.

  “Yeah, sure, why not. Wait right there, I’ll go and get you a hair from his hairbrush. But I need money for this, you know. It’s gonna cost you.”

  “Of course, I knew that you would. I have $5,000 in cash for you right now.” At that, he brought out a suitcase
that had $5,000 in twenty-dollar bills. She sure is selling her son cheap, he thought.

  As he sat on that threadbare couch, waiting for Shaylene to come in with Carter’s hair, he experienced a moment of regret and panic. You’re sending an innocent boy to prison for life. He shook off those feelings, though, realizing that this set-up was his only choice. It was his life or Carter’s. He didn’t even know that kid, and besides, the kid was a part of that nasty Incel community. He knew how those boys in that community were. They were misogynists, every one of them, and they all deserved the same fate that Carter was getting. The world would be a better place if each of those weird kids on that Reddit site could end up in the slammer, instead of writing their pathetic rapey fantasies online for all the world to see.

  According to Violet’s plan, the two of them also had to hire a hacker to make Carter even more guilty. Just the fact that his hair was at the site wouldn’t be enough, really. I mean, it might be enough, because why the hell would Carter’s hair be at the murder site unless he was the one who killed poor Addison? But they needed insurance. As he was there talking with Shaylene, Violet was busy hiring somebody to hack Carter’s Reddit account and plant violent messages that would appear to come from him. Violet knew that the kid that she hired, Chris Warford, was somebody who was going to cover for her, no matter what. The kid wasn’t in business to out his clients. If somebody managed to track him down and figure out what he did, he had an automatic cover story - he always told everybody that he had no clue who hired him. That he would just mysteriously get a phone call from some person who would anonymously deposit money into his account. There was no way to prove that he was lying. You can’t prove a negative, and Chris Warford did maintain burner accounts for all of his clients.

  Michael thought that his and Violet’s plan was fool-proof. Yes, he was bound to be exposed when Sonny was forced to give up the goods, but there would be no way to prove that Addison was pregnant and really no way to prove that the baby was his. That was the beauty of her body being gone - nobody was ever going to come back on him and say that he impregnated her, which would give him motive to kill her.

  Shaylene came back in within a few minutes. “Sorry this took so long. That bathroom is a goddamned mess. But here you go.” She handed Carter’s hair to Michael. “Do with it what you will.”

  “Thanks,” Michael said, taking the hair and kissing her forehead.

  At that, he left.

  Altogether, he thought that he and Violet hatched a pretty fool-proof plan to make sure that Michael never served a day in prison for Addison’s murder.

  After all, he didn’t kill Addison. That much he knew. He was as innocent as Carter was. But he also knew that if the shit hit the fan, he didn’t want to be the only suspect in Addison’s murder. If he pinned the murder on somebody else, he was going to be safe.

  And that was literally the only thing that he was thinking about as he sped towards Addison’s home with Carter Dixon’s hair.

  It’s his life or mine.

  Chapter 29

  Emerson - September 2

  I got off the phone with Senator Nash’s assistant, who told me that I was free to come into his office that day at any time. He, like Jackson, was expecting my phone call, especially when the article came out about him and Addison’s affair.

  Granted, I had yet to read anywhere that Addison was pregnant, and I wondered if Jackson was the only person who knew that she was. I knew that I was going to have to see Senator Nash and confront him with whether or not he was the father of Addison’s baby, and just see his reaction to my question. He was going to lie, that much I knew. But I wanted to see his reaction to my question - would he avert his eyes, would he stumble in his words, would his words seem forced and unnatural, would his face get red?

  I made an appointment to see Senator Nash for 3 PM that day, so I decided that I was going to stay in my office until then and just do research. One of the things that I had lined up was an expert on computers. Jeffrey Bauer was able to do forensic analyses on computers, and I thought that he would be able to offer an opinion to the court that Carter Dixon’s Reddit account was tampered with. He was able to detect phishing and spoofing and I thought that this would be the best way to show to a jury that Carter didn’t write those offending messages about Addison. I knew that I could also call Chris Warford to the stand, but I figured that that would be a lost cause. He wasn’t going to come clean on what he did, and he was one helluva liar. I really believed that he knew more than he let on about who hired him for the Carter Dixon gig, but he was able to spin a story with such volubility that I knew that he would do the same on the witness stand. Nevertheless, he was definitely on my list of people to call.

  About 2 PM that day, Declan appeared in my office, as my door was open. He had some bagels and cream cheese in a little box, and he grinned as he just sat down across from my desk. “You’ve been working hard all day,” he said, “and I noticed that you haven’t even had lunch yet. So…”

  I smiled. How to tell him that I don’t do bagels? I always hated to be impolite, yet I also hated to go off my eating plan. That was always the hardest thing about eating low-carb high-fat - having to turn down well-meaning people, like Declan, who want to feed you things that you just don’t eat. “Um, thanks, but I’m really not starving right now.”

  He shrugged and spread some cream cheese and smoked salmon on a bagel. “Suit yourself, but these really are the best in town. Anyhow, I really wanted an excuse to come down here and harass you. How is our case coming along?”

  “Great,” I lied. “I mean, Senator Nash…”

  “Yeah. What a tool, huh? I mean, he has this dying wife and he’s out fucking another woman. And not just any woman.” He shook his head. “What was he thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Listen, do you think that it’s odd that his wife never seems to actually look unhealthy? I mean, she wears that scarf on her head and everything, but she always seems strong and robust to me when I see her on shows. I don’t know, there’s just something off about that whole thing, if you ask me.”

  I didn’t want to actually tell Declan that part of the reason why I doubted Violet’s story was because my mother told me that she thought that Violet was lying about her illness. My mother told me that she had it on good authority, which was her way of saying that she heard it from a spirit, that Violet was not actually on her way out of this world, as my mother put it.

  If I told Declan the truth about why I had my doubts, he would have no doubt figured out that I was crazy, as was my mother. Since he was going to be my second-chair, and I still fantasized that he was going to be my romantic partner in the near future, despite the presence of that supermodel blonde woman in his office the other day, I wanted to make a good impression on him.

  Declan shrugged his shoulders. “Why would she do something like that?”

  “Beats me. People do things for all sorts of reasons. You have to admit that her being so sick has won him a ton of sympathy from the voters.”

  “Yeah, and that sympathy is going to go right out the window, now. I heard he was going to run for president. Looks like that won’t be happening.”

  I sighed. “Listen, if Bill Clinton and Donald Trump can get elected after what they did with women, I don’t think it’s going to be a problem, sick wife or no. Especially if she’s not really sick.”

  “True that.” He took a bite of his bagel and looked at me. “Wait, you’re one of those low-carb people, aren’t you?” He looked me up and down. “Of all people who don’t need to diet, I would put you at the top of the list. You look fantastic.”

  I could feel my face flush with Declan’s compliment about my appearance. “Um, I, just don’t like carbs. I don’t like the way that they make me feel. With this way of eating, I have strong energy all day, my moods don’t go haywire, and I don’t get blood-sugar crashes. So, it’s not just that I want to maintain the way that I look.”

  He shrugged. �
��Suit yourself, but when we go out on our first date, I’m not going to tell the waiter not to bring the bread basket. That’s all I’m saying.”

  He threw out the words “first date” so casually, I thought that he had to be joking. “Um, okay.”

  “How about tonight? You busy?”

  I thought about what I had planned that evening. I had to get home to the girls, and I was going to meet with my real estate agent at 6 PM. Thora, my real estate agent, told me that she had the perfect place for me, my mother and the girls. It was a three-bedroom condo that was in my same unit, and, as with my current unit, it had a balcony that faced the beach. It was around a half million more than my current place, but I knew that I could swing it. I bought my current place in cash, so I was going to have more than enough to put into a new place.

  I was tempted to put all of that off, in order to go out with this guy, but I had to be responsible. “I have to meet my real estate agent at 6, and then get home to my girls. They’re, uh, with a nanny right now.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “How about I show up at your place at 7, with some tuna poke for you and what do your girls like to eat?”

  “Well, my mother is there, too.”

  “Really? Why do you have a nanny, then?”

  “Long story.”

  He smiled. “Say no more. Your mother is probably like my mother. Completely irresponsible, but fun as hell. My mom is a dominatrix, an actual dominatrix at an underground S&M club in the valley. Bet you can’t top that one.”

  I had to admit, I couldn’t, but I did appreciate that he shared that his family was loony-tunes, too. That made me feel much more comfortable to bring up my mother’s issues. “Well, mom isn’t a dominatrix, but she does love her alcohol and pot. She’s a senior model, and she always has her fellow senior model friends over. She’s not necessarily a person that I feel comfortable leaving my 14 year old and 8 year old charges with alone. She means well, though.”