8
CHRIS
It turned out that finding photos of Trevor and Andy wasn’t difficult because Trevor had an old Facebook profile with a public gallery. Chris went over old photos of the Mitchells, pushing down his bile yet feeling relieved he wasn’t in any of the photos. Seeing Robert and Kim after so many years allowed a flood of memories to sneak through his defenses. He quickly saved a few of the more recent photos of Trevor and Andy. When he was about to log out, he noticed that Trevor’s latest status update was from yesterday. It was a check-in from Florida, with a short post that read, “Road trip with the little brother!”
Chris stared at the post until the edges of his vision blurred, heat rising across his skin. Jay had been right—Trevor was preparing and building an alibi.
“Fuck you!”
The door flew open. Dima had his hand hovering over the side of his pants, where he was likely keeping his gun underneath the blazer. “Why do you shout?”
“It’s nothing.” He rubbed his face, angry at himself for losing his shit at work. His coworkers already suspected something was off. “I got the photos of Trevor and Andy you wanted.” He sent them to the printer.
Dima closed the door behind him and sat on the other side of the desk. He looked grumpy and bored, but Chris had more urgent concerns than the man’s mood. He was still processing that his life now involved seeing him every day.
“Here.” He handed Dima the printed photos.
He watched them closely “Trevor is handsome. Andy is... weird. Both are a threat?”
“Mostly Trevor. Andy’s mental, but he’s not likely to start attacking or fire a gun.”
“Do you have a gun?”
Chris opened his blazer. He wore a shoulder holster, which was both comforting and uncomfortable.
“Were you going to shoot me at Tobias’s?”
Chris didn’t want to answer, but Dima kept staring at him with his icy gaze. “I would’ve shot if you had overpowered Jay, and I would’ve tried to aim at your legs.”
“My legs?” Dima laughed. “You think I need my legs to kill you? If you shoot someone, do it right.” He pressed a finger between his eyes. “Right here.”
This is just a temporary arrangement. This is just a temporary—
Chris’s phone rang. It was Ethan. “I need to take this call.”
Dima stood and kept the printed photos. “I’m going to eat. Try to stay alive until I’m back. Or not.”
When he left, Chris answered the call. “Hi, E.”
“Hi, busy?”
“Not really. How’s work?” He turned around to watch the view from his office. He had been dreaming of this view for years, but the novelty had worn off like cheap perfume.
“I went outside to breathe some air,” Ethan said with traffic noises in the background. “I totally forgot what it’s like to sit in front of a computer for hours. My eyes itch, and my head hurts.”
“You’ll get used to it like you got used to driving that cool FedEx truck.”
“Hell no, I never got used to that!” He laughed. “But you’re right, I need more time. It’s weird working with so many people, though. And some are so young!”
“Tell me about it. Whenever I see new interns coming in, I stop myself from shouting, ‘Run!’”
“Nah, let them find out the hard way. Anyway, I wanted to tell you something. The other day, I told Anthony I was in love with him. He said it as well.”
Chris smiled, but he wasn't surprised. Those two had been clearly heading that way. “That’s amazing, Ethan.”
“Thanks. It just happened out of the blue. One minute we were having sex with the clothespins, and then—”
“Clothespins?”
“Hmm, never mind. It just happened without planning. But it’s fine, right? Not too fast?”
“Well, listen, you two did just meet, so—”
“Haha. Yeah, I know. It feels so natural. I want to tell my parents this weekend. Do you think they’ll freak out?”
“You know they won’t.”
“Yeah, but Dad will definitely have a field day with this.”
“Most definitely.”
Ethan sighed. “I don’t even know why I’m stressing. Maybe because it’s been a while since good things happened.”
“I understand.” For a moment, Chris had an urge to open up about the shit in his life, to make the burden less hard to bear. Nothing felt more natural than sharing things with Ethan. Luckily, he stopped himself in time. Freaking Ethan out when he was finally catching a well-deserved break was selfish and unkind.
“You want to meet for a swim tomorrow before work?” Ethan asked.
Chris almost agreed, but he couldn’t risk Ethan seeing Dima. “I can’t this week. Work’s been crazy.”
“Okay, let me know if something changes. I’m heading back to the office. Talk to you soon.”
After they hung up, Chris tried to focus on work, but his mind wasn’t into it. He used the time to call Melissa on video, and she answered from her parents’ garden. “Hi, hon.”
“How’s it going?”
“The twins were in the pool all morning, and now mom’s giving them food. I’m using the downtime to read a book.”
“Fifty Shades of Grey again?”
“Oh, you know I hated that crap! It’s just some thriller my dad had lying around. How’s work?”
“Fine. Busy.”
“Yeah?” She watched him closely, her sun hat shadowing her face. “You look tired.”
“Thanks.”
“Chris.”
“I’ll leave early and have a good night’s sleep.”
“You do that. Oh, hold on. Incoming.”
He could hear the twins roaring before they burst into the frame, each trying to grab the phone.
“Daddy! I’m first!”
“Boys, let your mom hold the phone. You had fun in the pool?”
Dylan leaned in so close to the screen that all Chris could see was his cute little nose. “I peed in the pool!”
“That’s... great.”
“I peed, too, Daddy!”
“You two aren’t driving your grandparents crazy, right?”
They both giggled.
“Do you want to go bring the paintings you drew and show Daddy?” Melissa asked.
The twins ran away to bring their latest art.
“Nicky drew a dragon, and Dylan drew a bunny,” Melissa briefed him.
“A dragon and a bunny, got it. I—” A notification for an incoming call from Benji appeared on the top of his screen.
“Melissa, I got to take this. I’ll call you soon.” He hung up before she could respond. “Benji?”
“Hello, Mr. Roberts.”
“I asked you to call me Chris. Any news?”
“Not news per se, more of a thought.”
“Okay...”
“I do hope you know that I’ve been working on this rather unusual case with great earnestness.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“It seems to me that our only way to solve this unfortunate affair is to dispute the will itself.”
Chris rubbed his face. He wasn’t surprised, but he knew how difficult such things were. No judge was ever quick to dismiss the last wishes of a dead person. Such trials could go on for ages.
“How can we dispute the will?” Chris asked. “Robert covered all his bases.”
“True, which means we’ll need to challenge the circumstances involving the writing of the will.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Undue influence.”
“You mean to make it look like Robert had been manipulated into writing it?”
“Precisely. We will need to create a strong enough case to convince the judge that Robert Mitchell, a successful businessman and a pillar of the community, was pressured and manipulated into writing a will he didn’t agree with.”
“The only one who had anything to gain from that will was allegedly me, and I hadn't spoken with him in years.”
“True, and you yourself are a successful lawyer who is not desperate for money. Mr. Wilson referred to you as brilliant.”
“You spoke with Mickey?”
“He called me yesterday to brainstorm about the will. A rather... peculiar character. Do you know he’s running for Mayor?”
“He might have mentioned it.”
“Well, as I was saying, by convincing a judge that Robert hasn’t written the will on his own accord, your adopted brothers have a shot at getting everything.”
“And I might end up in prison.”
“That is a possibility, yes, but as long as your brothers won’t press charges and the victim is dead, I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“But we still need evidence, and we don’t have any.”
“True. And how would you go about solving such a complicated situation for a client?”
Benji sounded like one of Chris’s old professors, but his question was solid, forcing Chris to gather his thoughts. “Give me a moment.”
They would need to make it look like Chris had been in contact with Robert in recent years and had somehow made him leave the family’s fortune solely to him. That could have happened for two reasons: firstly, Robert had loved Chris more than his biological children, which would be almost impossible to prove or disprove. The second reason could be that Robert had been afraid of Chris—afraid enough to take such drastic action.
Why would he be afraid of me?
The answer was so close to the truth, it was hidden in plain sight all along.
“He molested me,” Chris blurted. “He molested me, and I threatened to tell and destroy him if he wouldn’t leave me all his money.”
“Hmm, that is a solid reason to pressure a man into changing his will.”
Chris got the feeling that Benji had been thinking the same thing, hoping that Chris would arrive to the same conclusion on his own.
“Now, let’s talk evidence,” Benji said.
“I was hospitalized twice, at sixteen and seventeen.” Both times had been due to Andy’s carelessness with his twisted games. By that point, Chris had already lost hope of escaping the Mitchells, so he rolled with whichever lies they chose to tell the hospital staff.
“Were those two cases connected to sexual assault in any way?”
“No, but it’s better than nothing. We can also fake an old letter where I accused Robert of molesting me and threatened to expose him. An email would be harder to fake with an older date.”
“A letter would help, yes. Anything else?”
The wheels in Chris’s head spun fast enough to make him dizzy. “We can get Trevor and Andy to testify that they knew what was going on between Robert and me. No—I wouldn’t trust Andy to testify—so just Trevor. And you can also say that Robert seemed hesitant when he came to you to change his will; not enough for you to refuse, but enough to raise suspicion. And I... I can testify that I blackmailed him.”
His heart pounded. If word of this were to reach the wrong people, he may as well resign now. But losing his career felt insignificant with his life on the line. He also trusted Mickey to have his back if it came to that.
“We’ll have you testify as a last resort,” Benji said, “but yes, it will undoubtedly be our strongest proof.” He sighed. “Such a mess this has turned out to be. When Robert came to me with his updated will last year, I insisted he’d tell me what caused such a change. I knew he was disappointed with his children, mostly with Trevor, but he hadn’t mentioned you in years. He refused to explain his reasons, simply said that he was going to make things right and get even with those who deserved it.”
“I don’t deserve any of this.”
“I know you don’t. I can tell you are a good man.”
“Thank you. When did you last speak with Robert about the will?”
“About a week or so before his passing. We talked about different things regarding his business, and he mentioned the will. I asked if he would like to make a change to a less controversial version, but he was satisfied with his decision. That was the last time I spoke with him.”
“Did Kim know about any of this?”
“I don’t believe so, but the money has always been in his name. She trusted him fully, and he made sure to give her everything she wanted.”
“He was a horrible person. They both were.”
“Yes, I suspected as much.”
“Is that why you’re helping me?”
“That’s part of the reason.” Benji cleared his throat. “It pains me to say this, but I was the one who helped Robert and Kim with your adoption.”
Chris hung up the call.