CHAPTER 31: THROWING BRICKS and NEW WRENCHES

CRAIG:

I’ve spent most of the weekend in conversation with my attorney, trying to figure out a possible angle to get Justin to help me whether he wanted to or not. Instead of telling me what I’d hoped, Glen told me that if I tried to press Justin, all of my own secrets would be fair-game. Things like the fact that I spent the excess money of his trust fund, left to him by Jennifer’s father, beyond what it would’ve cost to send him to Dartmouth, or covering mine and Claire’s gambling debts, or the fact that I kicked him out of the house when I was still legally responsible BY LAW to pay for his education, no matter where he wanted to go. Glenn said that no judge would condone what I did, regardless of the fact that I didn’t agree with Justin’s lifestyle, then or now. I still had an obligation to support him financially until he was 18, if he was then financially able to support himself, or 23 years old if he was attending an institute of higher education.

As a result of my neglect in following the law- not my morals- Justin could actually sue ME for a number of things, including parental alienation. The fact that I used the excess money, which was earmarked specifically so that Justin could support himself upon reaching his 18th birthday, would not be looked upon with anything but contempt, since it could also lead to a criminal trial to boot. He also said that if I was going to force Justin’s hand then I would have to find another lawyer, preferably the one who should be disbarred, for helping me steal from my own son. Needless to say that I’m taking his advice well into account.

The ringing of the doorbell shocks me out of my reverie. I would expect that Lori has her key and would be using it, unless she’s a little tipsy from brunch with her friends. God, I hope she is. A drunk Lori equals a very horny Lolita, and I could sure use one right now. She becomes totally uninhibited, which if I’m honest, is the reason most of the men within my set cheat. There are just certain acts that well-bred women balk at that common Slores do not. It’s why I’ve kept Claire around so long. I could cum on her face like we’re in a fucking porno and she’d bathe in it, much unlike the WASP women who would not only balk at that sentiment, but pull a Lorena Bobbitt when we would least expect it. Very different caliber of women, but each have their place and serve a purpose.

The chronic ringing has become outright banging on the door, and it’s grating on my nerves. What the fuck is wrong with Lori?! She knows just how long it takes to get from the back of the house to the front of it. Hell, it’s HER place; I only moved in after I sold the condo where Claire and I used to meet up when that Novotny turd found out about it. I couldn’t run the risk that he would mention it to Justin in a moment of spite. So we’ve been meeting at her house when her sons are out until I can get something else in an inconspicuous, and affordable, neighborhood. With business being the way it is right now, and the fact that because Justin won’t help so I have to approach Lori, I have to keep all the cash on hand I have. No doubt she'll ask to see the books before making the investment. She is an accountant, after all.   

I finally get to the door and wrench it open, not expecting to see the person who’s shown up. “What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck happened to you?!”

She pushes past me, entering my home without a thought for who I share this place with. “Nice to see you too, Craig,” Claire spits out. Her face looks like she’s gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. “Quit gawking and get me some fucking ice!”

I sigh. “Fine, and then you can leave, but not before you tell me what the hell happened.”

She follows me into the kitchen and I could swear I feel her casing the house. With Brian Kinney as her brother, there’s no doubt that she knows the value of the furnishings. I hate the bastard, but he does have impeccable taste. One suit of his equals the child support check I send to Jennifer for Molly each month. That, along with so many other things about the man, pisses me off. I hand Claire the ice pack, taking a good look at her face. Whomever worked her over did a damn fine job of it.

“So what happened?” I ask again when she winces from placing the icepack on her eye, which is nearly swollen shut.

“Your bitchy ex-wife did this to me!” she whines loudly.

“Jennifer?” I laugh, disbelievingly. “Jenn is too much of a lady to do something like this. Try something else.”

“I’m telling you the truth, Craig! Jennifer Taylor did this to me!”

I shake my head, still not believing a damn word she says. Claire is a consummate liar, who will do and say anything to get sympathy, or what she wants. And God forbid if the two are mutually inclusive! On that day her whine could reach a pitch that would have dogs ears bleeding. But I have to catch her in the lie in order to drag the truth out of her. It’s always the way of it with her. “So where did this impromptu boxing match happen?”

“At my brother’s loft. First, she answers the fucking intercom saying that it was the Taylor-Kinney residence and denied me entry. Or at least she did until I raised my voice loud enough for Brian to tell her to let me in…”

“Wait! You said Taylor-Kinney?”

“That’s what I just said, Craig.”

“You mean to tell me that the little shit wasn’t lying? He and Kinney really did…”

“Sign some legal papers joining their fucking, disgusting, faggot lives? Yes, they did. Michael bitched, moaned, and complained about it at length in his last email. Didn’t you get it?”

I nodded. “I haven’t had time to open it, but I did see Justin last Wednesday evening, out with a man who was definitely not Kinney. He said that he and Jared Thorne were conducting business, but it could be…”

“Wrong, mutton brain, think again. It most certainly was business. Michael wrote about it all in his last email, which was sent on Friday, in case you actually want to read the details rather than sit here like my name is fucking Oprah and expecting me to relay them to you like I’m reporting the fucking news.”

“What the hell is your problem?!” I snipe back at her.

“YOU ARE! I don’t give a fuck about whatever your latest drama is with that fucking pansy boy. What I care about is that your bitch of an ex-wife assaulted me!”

“So go to the fucking cops and have her thrown in jail!”

“I can’t, you asshole! They will start digging for answers as to why she hit me. No telling what else they will find out if I start lodging complaints, Craig.”

“Then why come here?”

“Other than to warn you that she knows everything? It’s also to tell you that we have to protect Peter before they find out he’s yours and not my ex-husband’s get! When she asks Brian about Peter’s age, he’s not going to lie, and she’ll do the math. If that happens…”

Fuck. This situation is just getting worse and worse. She’s right that if the police start digging, based on Claire’s complaint and the testimony Jenn will give to defend herself, it will be fairly easy to draw the right conclusions. “Claire, go home. I’ll stop by later after I talk to some people, but your being here will cause problems between me and Lori. I can’t have that.”

“No. Far be it from me to destroy your next meal ticket with the fucking truth!” She spits at me, slamming the ice pack onto the countertop. “Craig, you have to control that conniving cunt or she’s going to happily destroy all you have going with your new bankroll-bitch. And then what will you do?”

“I don’t know what’s he’s going to do regarding his son, but I know he’s about to leave my fucking house right NOW!” Lori says from the doorway.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t hear you come in.” I pour on the charm. “This is…”

“Claire Townsend, nee Kinney. The whore sister of a man you tried to destroy and failed; also the mother- and I use that term loosely- to a child ten months to the day younger than your daughter Molly. Tell me, Craig… is she the reason you couldn’t show up to your own legitimate daughter’s birth?” She sighs. “You know what… don’t answer that, just leave. My sister and I will pack your things and ship them to you.”

“Lori…” It’s then that I notice how she’s dressed. “And just where the hell have you been all day? That’s not what you would usually wear to brunch.”

“I was out at a job interview if you must know.”

“I thought we discussed this! No wife of mine is going to be working!”

“Well now, it’s fortunate that you don’t have a wife then, nor a fiancee any longer. This conversation is over. By the way, Justin Taylor-Kinney sends his regards.”

“Where did you see Justin?”

“Why at Kinnetik, of course. I’ve been hired as the financial secretary for the Art Department. Goodbye, Craig. Bruce, can you see my ex and his harlot out and be sure to call the locksmith immediately please?”

“Right away, Miss Kennedy. And an absolute pleasure it will be,” Bruce says, narrowing his eyes at me. Ordinarily, I would stand my ground against anyone, but Bruce is an ex-Ironman who looks as if he chews nails and spits screws for breakfast. I have no doubt that if I stay to argue my case with Lori that I will end up as decorated as Claire is at the moment. I can’t risk that.

“I just have one more question, Lori. How did you find all of that out?”

She laughs, but there is no humor in it. “You really do believe that all women are meant to be are walking uteruses, don’t you? Well contrary to the ignorant bitch standing next to you, I did my research. And what I couldn’t find for myself, I hired a private investigator to gather the information for me. By the way, I contacted Detective Horvath and the fraud specialist working with him on the case for your friend, Michael Novotny. I handed over the entire report to them. They should be paying each of you a visit sooner rather than later. Goodbye and good riddance to bad rubbish!”

“Look lady, you don’t know me…” Claire starts, only to be cut off.

“Nor do I want to, but rest easy. I was talking to him. You aren’t even worth the few words I did speak to you. After all, I usually just walk by gutter trash, not dwell on it. Now kindly leave my house.”

MELANIE:

I can’t believe it! I just… Harry just left here giving me the whole story, but I didn’t give him ours just yet. Because a lot of what’s happening falls under attorney/client confidentiality, I told him that I have to speak with Brian and Justin first before giving him any information, or making a decision on what to do about Lance Freeman. In a nutshell, he wants to plead Lance out for his part in all this fuckery in exchange for his testimony against Michael. Normally, I would advise my clients to go with it, after all getting the criminals some time is better than them getting off scot free. But this is different because not only am I the personal attorney for Brian and Justin, I’m also one of the victims of this whole mess.

“Uh-oh... Justin, I think we should run for cover,” Brian says as they come into the office. “She has that ‘we need to talk’ look on her face again, and that usually means bad news.”

And isn’t it a poor moment in my life when I can’t find the wherewithal to utter ‘shut up, asshole’ in his direction. Instead, I take a deep breath and bring them up to date. “Unfortunately, we do have to talk, Brian and Justin. I just received a visit from Harry Donaldson. Apparently, he’s Lance’s uncle and…”

“Shit, Mel! Does this mean that we have to find a new attorney to represent our interests going forward?” Justin asks, and I can feel the nervousness radiating off of him.

Even though we’ve all moved into the temporary housing, he still has yet to get his nerves and emotions under control. When I spoke to Brian about it, all he said is that we have to watch him extra close until this whole ordeal is over because Justin’s mood swings are about to spiral out of control, although they’re not there yet.

“Not quite, Baby,” I say, trying to soothe him. “The thing is that he had advised Lance’s parents that he needed mental help for his fixation issues some time ago, but nothing had ever been done about them. On the flipside of that, Harry agrees that Lance should be held accountable to a large extent for his part in Michael’s schemes over the years.” I take a deep breath, knowing that this next part is likely to bring about an explosion from either man. I’m sort of hoping it’s Justin, so that Brian can help me calm him down. I can’t handle both of them going off the deep end at the same time. “The thing is that Harry wants to enter a plea bargain on Lance’s behalf where he only gets a fraction of the time, but he’s also going to be admitted to a mental hospital for a time as well.”

Justin’s fists were balled at his sides, but he was still in a state where he would be able to reason everything out. I carefully measure my words, keeping them true and honest, but also keeping my own tension from my voice. “The way it works is that after the plea, Lance will go to a holding cell until he’s needed in Michael’s trial. After his testimony, he’ll be immediately remanded into custody at a psychiatric facility. Then once stabilized, he’ll be moved to general population of the prison system to serve out his time.”

“Does the time he spends in the hospital in any way count as time served?” Brian asks. I’m really proud of him- both of them- that they are asking all of the right questions.

“Unless the D.A. finds just cause to be extra lenient, then no. The two issues are unrelated in the eyes of the law, in so much as Lance’s illness is considered a medical condition, and not the basis for the crime. So they will consider getting him stabilized as the humane thing to do, but it still will not excuse the fact that he has a debt to society to repay.” And I can feel both of them exhale on that pronouncement.

“Then it’s fine by me, Mel. As long as he pays for what he’s done to Brian over the years, then I can live with the plea deal,” Justin tells me while looking at Brian.

“Okay, but there is something else I’d like to have your permission to do. I’d like to give Harry ALL of the information he needs to deal with this adequately. Right now, he is only working on Lance’s version of events, which, if he’s anything like Michael, Harry only knows what Lance wanted to tell him to get Harry there. I think Donaldson should be given all of the facts, then let’s see what he does with them. If there is one thing I’m sure of, it’s that he’s not happy any more than we are with his nephew. Which means that regardless of the circumstances and excuses Lance is more than likely going to give, he’s going go for the maximum sentence under the plea deal he can get. True, he’s loyal to his family, but he’s also a man who believes wholeheartedly in justice even if it means sending said family to prison.”

“Then we’ll take your advice on the matter, Mel,” Brian says. “All we ask is that we be consulted on the deal to reassure us that Lance Freeman is not getting off too lightly. We don’t have the best track record or fatih in the justice system as an institution, but as long as that can happen, we can try to cooperate and live with it. Can that be a stipulation?”

I smile at them. It’s never more apparent than right now that when one speaks, they usually speak for the both of them. And on the rare occasions that they differ on an opinion, they have the ability to argue like lawyers and statesmen. Their thoughts are so well-processed and executed that even when the answer comes back as ‘no’ they are able to make you think you should have said ‘yes’, or given their idea just a little more thought. No wonder they are in advertising!

“I honestly can’t see it being a problem, Brian, especially with who is working behind the scenes on our behalf. He’ll make sure, as well as I will that there is full disclosure on both sides. The last thing we need Michael and Lance saying is that we had exculpatory evidence, which could have exonerated them for their crimes when we all know differently. They will not get off on a technicality on my watch!”

They left my office after we all made plans to meet up for dinner. Neither Justin nor I feel like cooking tonight, and neither of us trust Brian to boil a pot of water unsupervised. So we decided to pick Gus up a little early and head to Tonio’s after work. With that decided, I leave the office and head to Harry’s office. It was going to be a long afternoon.