Chapter Twenty-Four
Mia
“Mia?” Helen’s voice pulled my head up from the mountain of paperwork on my desk.
“Hi, Helen,” I said.
“You’re here early.”
“I know, I wanted to get all my ducks in a row,” I said. “I finished the paperwork on the McKinley case, I got the affidavits you need for the Bucker-Pullman trial and the subpoena we need to get Betsy Davidson to the Michaels hearing.”
“Geez… I could have done all that,” she said. “Especially considering you’re working on the Burbank case.”
“I took this case on at the last minute,” I said. “I didn’t want to leave you high and dry with all the other stuff we need to get done.”
“You really are something, Mia,” Helen said, taking a seat behind her desk. “I don’t know how you juggle it all.”
“I just pretend to juggle it all,” I said.
“If that’s true, you’re doing a fucking good job.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Helen. I must say, you’re really good for my self esteem.”
“Happy to be of service,” she said, mimicking a bow. Then her tone turned serious. “How are things going…with Sam’s case?”
“Jackson agreed to meet with me today,” I told her.
“No way,” she said. “That’s a win for you.”
“That remains to be seen,” I said. “He’s not meeting with me alone. His lawyer is going to be present; from what I could glean of the situation, he was advised against meeting me in the first place.”
“Who’s his lawyer?”
“Kent Bradley,” I said, with a small sigh.
Helen let out a burst of laughter. “This should be interesting.”
“I’m glad you’re amused,” I said. “Because I most certainly was not.”
“That was a long time ago, Mia,” Helen said. “I’m sure he’s forgiven you by now.”
“Men are proud creatures with fragile egos,” I said darkly. “And, they never forget a rejection. Trust me, he hasn’t forgotten, and he mostly certainly hasn’t forgiven. I know Kent enough to know that he’s not used to being turned down.”
“Remind me again, why did you turn him down?” Helen asked. “I mean…he’s an accomplished lawyer. He’s from a rich family, and he’s handsome, in a pretty boy kind of way. You could almost forgive the fact that he’s a prosecutor.”
I laughed. “That was barely a year after Clint passed,” I said. “I was definitely not ready to start dating. And to be honest, I could never overlook the whole prosecutor thing. It’s…icky.”
She laughed. “Fair enough.”
“Anyway, I’ve got to head out. My meeting with Jackson is in an hour, and I want to be early.”
I waved goodbye and headed to the bathroom first. I washed my face and touched up my lipstick. I decided to keep my hair lose around my shoulders. I had opted for my lucky black pantsuit today. It was well tailored and chic, yet professional. I always wore it when I needed an extra boost of luck or confidence. Once I was ready, I headed for the meeting.
When I arrived, I was told that I would need to wait for Jackson and his lawyer. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. It was just the kind of passive aggressive move Kent would attempt. It was a power play; he was obviously going to keep my waiting on purpose. I sat down and waited patiently. Fifteen minutes later, the door opened and Jackson walked in, followed by Kent.
Jackson looked pale and miserable. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his skin had the kind of sallow looseness that told me he had lost weight in the last few days. I hoped guilt was the motivating factor behind the changes –if it was, that was something I could manipulate in Sam’s favor.
In comparison to Jackson, Kent looked like some shiny version of a Ken doll. I suppressed a laugh as I realized the irony of his first name being Kent.
“Jackson,” I nodded curtly. “Kent…it’s been a while.”
“It has,” Kent replied without a smile.
They sat down opposite me.
“What are you here to talk about, Mia?” Kent asked directly. “Because I certainly can’t imagine any reason why you would have cause to talk to my client.”
I had expected Kent’s hostile tone and brusque manner. It was all so predictable that it was almost amusing. Men were so fragile sometimes, it was laughable that they considered women the weaker sex. And, I was certain Kent was one of those men who subscribed to that belief.
“You can’t imagine why I would want to speak to your client?” I repeated in obvious amusement. I nodded and turned to Jackson. “Maybe Jackson might have an idea why I might want to talk to him.”
Jackson held my gaze for only a moment before dropping it quickly. Kent, looking smugly satisfied, turned to me with hard eyes. “It’s best you address me, instead of Jackson.”
I suppressed a sigh, but chose to ignore Kent and talk to Jackson, whether or not he looked at me. “We have evidence that ties you directly to the drug ring, Jackson,” I told him. “But no evidence that puts Sam anywhere near these dealings.”
“His name was on the documents, the contracts, and the financial statements,” Kent said curtly. “Enough said.”
“Those signatures could have been forged,” I pointed out.
“Can you prove that?” Kent asked with a raised eyebrow. “It seems pretty convenient to talk about forgery after your client has been brought up on charges. He was part owner of Jackson’s Bar was he not?”
“He never wanted to be a partner in the business,” I said. “All he thought he was doing was helping out a friend in need. And, Jackson needed money to start the bar. It was Jackson’s decision to make Sam a partner in the first place.”
“Hearsay,” Kent said briskly.
“I’m sorry…hearsay?” I repeated incredulously.
He gave me a challenging smile. “It sounds like your client doesn’t have much of a defence, Mia,” he said. “Sounds like you’re grasping at straws.”
“I’m trying to grasp the truth,” I responded. “Which is admittedly a little hard to do when you’re surrounded by liars.”
“Why did you request this meeting, Mia?” Kent asked in a condescending tone.
“You know what? The better question is why did Jackson agree to meeting me in the first place.” I turned to him and stared him down, despite the fact that he was refusing to meet my gaze. “Why, Jackson? Considering you won’t look or talk to me?”
Jackson opened his mouth slightly and then closed it again. Kent was staring daggers at him as though willing him to keep his mouth shut.
“Jackson?” I prompted, softening my tone slightly.
“I wanted… I wanted to know… How Sam was doing?” Jackson stuttered, in drips and drags, never fully committing to the sentence.
I could sense immediately that it was guilt I saw written all over his face. Instantly, I changed tack and decided to use that guilt to my advantage.
“How do you think he’s doing, Jackson?” I asked without any accusation in my tone. “The man he considered his best friend, the man he thought would always have his back, completely betrayed him. How would you feel?”
Jackson looked down at his hands, and I went in for the kill. “You know, despite everything that’s happened, he still asked about you,” I said.
“He did?” Jackson asked, looking up at me abruptly.
“He did,” I nodded. “I asked him why he even cared. And do you know what he said? He said that despite everything, he couldn’t forget your history together.
“He said he remembered the time that you pushed him out of the way of that concrete pillar and the time you jumped into an icy lake just to pull him out. And the time you refused to leave him in that burning building on Costa Lane.”
“I… He’s saved me just as many times,” Jackson said, and his voice shook a little. “That’s what we did – we took turns saving each other.”
“Which is why it is amazing that you would do this to him,” I said, meeting his gaze. “He lent you money for the bar because he cared about you, because you were his partner and his friend. He considered you a brother. Why would you have saved him all those times just to screw him over now? Even I can’t understand it.”
“I wasn’t supposed to get caught!” he cried desperately.
“Jackson,” Kent said sharply. “Stop talking.”
But it was like Jackson didn’t even hear him. “I thought I had covered all my bases. I never meant to pull Sam into all of this.”
“So you admit he knew nothing about the illegal funds coming in from the drug ring?” I asked pointedly.
“Jackson!” Kent practically yelled. “Shut the hell up, for fuck’s sake!”
“No,” Jackson said decisively. “He didn’t. He never read any of those documents I got him to sign. He trusted me that much.”
“And, you betrayed that trust,” I said softly.
“Fucking hell!” Kent screamed.
Both Jackson and I ignored him. “Yes,” he said. “I did.”
“You can still fix this, Jackson,” I said softly. “You can save Sam. He doesn’t have to go down with you. You have the power to exonerate him. You have the power to show him that your relationship still means something to you.”
He looked up at me and nodded. “What do I have to do?”
Kent was looking at me furiously, but I ignored him and pulled out the papers I’d prepared that morning from my briefcase. “These are legal documents that state Sam had no knowledge or involvement in the money laundering scheme. By signing these papers, you will be exonerating him of all culpability in this crime.”
Jackson nodded and took the papers from my hand. He was about to sign them when Kent stopped him. “I should read it first.”
“There’s no need,” Jackson said firmly. “I trust Sam.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Kent said, throwing his arms up in the air.
Jackson signed his name a moment later and handed them back to me.
“Thank you, Jackson,” I said sincerely. “You did the right thing.”
“Just…tell Sam that… I’m sorry.” Jackson’s voice was small. “For everything.”
“I will,” I nodded.
I grabbed my briefcase and walked out of the room. A few seconds later, I heard footsteps follow me down the hall. I turned to find Kent blaring towards me with his eyes on fire.
“What the fuck was that?” he demanded. “You coerced him into signing those papers.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t coerce him into anything. No one forced him into signing – he did it of his own free will. Seriously, Kent, you can’t really be this mad. This will have no effect on you or your case. Sam and Jackson would have had different trials. One wouldn’t have affected the other.”
“I don’t give a crap!”
“You know Sam is innocent, and you’d let an innocent man go to prison for what?” I demanded. “To stick it to me because I bruised your ego an eternity ago? You are a fucking joke. Grow the fuck up, Kent.”
I turned and walked away from him, feeling practically buoyant. I headed over to Judge Cornell’s offices and handed in the documents Jackson had signed. It took fifteen minutes total, and then I was driving back to the jail. I was walking out of the parking lot when I saw Sam coming down the steps of the spartan building.
He stopped for a moment when he saw me, and then his face broke out into a brilliant smile. And really, that smile was all the thanks I needed.