Chapter Thirty-Five
“Why won’t you keep this?” she asked.
He hitched up a grin and rolled to the side, slipping an arm beneath her neck to roll her with him. Saved by a diversion. She’d found it.
He curled his arm around her to hold her.
She dropped the bills onto his pec, but when he ignored them, he noticed a dark furrow crinkle her brow as she tightened her embrace on him and tangled her legs with his. She looked away.
“Hey,” he said, tilting her face toward him, touching his lips to her cheek, to her jaw.
She said nothing. He inspected her gaze.
“You’ve done so much for us.”
“Shh—”
“I can’t even get you to take what you’re owed for fixing up my car when you didn’t owe me anything after the way I treated you that morning.”
“Baby,” he whispered, caressing her cheek to quell her.
His fingers tangled in the ends of her hair, tilting her head for him.
“You were scared that morning.” His own darkness began to seep through the cracks again, because he’d been determined coming here that he’d fess up to his past, that he’d lay himself honestly in front of her and, instead, he’d let himself avoid the weight bearing down on his chest like a bad omen that nice things in life were too good for him. “That’s all you were, is scared—”
His phone buzzed. A blessing buying him more time. A curse for the same reason.
He stretched an arm down to the floor, fishing for his jeans. Tyler’s face showed up on the screen.
He swiped to answer, clearing his throat. “Yup.”
“I’ve got a promising development, man,” Tyler said through the cell. “Are you sittin’ down?”
Yeah, bare-assed and in a haze of post-loving mess.
T.R. put it on speaker. “Packing some bags. We could use promising news.”
“First, is Charlie somewhere safe?”
He squeezed his arm around her, still cupping her breast, and their gazes connected as she looked inquisitively at him.
She pushed upright, creaking the springs, her hair cascading over his shoulder.
“She’s right here, man. I got you on speaker.”
“Thank hell. Charlie, glad you’re okay. Thaddeus’s been beside himself.”
Her face softened as she looked down.
“I’ve got a complaint prepared to file to the state commission, but I need to ask you a few things, first, ’cause I still can’t pinpoint that smoking gun.
Your police call tonight only demonstrates further that Jason is an increasing danger to you and Daze.
You need to do two things, Charlie. Swear an affidavit to the court why your daughter was endangered, upon which I’ll file for temporary emergency sole custody.
At which point, we’ll get an expedited hearing within the next two weeks. ”
“Two weeks?” T.R. fumed. “Ty, please tell me he’s stuck in jail until this hearing.”
“He was arrested just last weekend for criminal vandalism and drunk and disorderly. Doesn’t getting arrested again violate a term of his bond?” Charlie asked.
“Generally, it’s basic precedent. But unfortunately, the terms of that bond were set by the judge at his bail hearing Sunday morning.”
“And that judge was none other than Calvin Mitchell,” T.R. deadpanned. “I’m sure with his record of favoritism, he’ll be real impartial and throw the book at the bastard. Isn’t there a way to get in with another judge?”
“Workin’ on it, but until then, no condition was put on his restraining order because Charlie didn’t file it until the main offices opened on Monday—after he was out on bail. So, his only bond contingencies were dependent on abstaining from alcohol.”
“But he broke my window,” Charlie said.
“A new crime,” Tyler said.
“She said he was drunk,” T.R. argued.
“Breathalyzer when he was booked showed no blood alcohol content,” Tyler said.
“That’s just not true,” Charlie said. “He reeked of whiskey.”
“I think it’s safe to say Jason has connections,” T.R. said. “Didn’t you mention some promising news? All I’m hearing so far is hellfire and damnation.”
“Yup. Because now it’s gettin’ good,” Tyler said, a grin in his voice.
“Why?” Charlie asked.
“Because not only are university police involved now, with the university’s legal department pressing criminal charges tonight, but because I think I’m onto that smoking gun.
If Mitchell knows what’s good for him, he’ll let Jason sit and stew in a cell.
And if he lets him make bail, well … that teaches me something valuable. ”
“Like what?” T.R. asked. “Like he’s more scared of Jason than he is of being caught in a judicial misconduct scandal?”
“Bingo. And if he gets sloppy and let’s Jason out anyway, then it means Jason might be coercing him somehow.”
“What could Jason possibly hold over a prominent judge’s head?” Charlie said. “Extortion?”
“Yup,” Tyler said. “So, I started digging around for a connection. But I gotta ask first, Charlie. Who are Jason’s parents? Did you have a relationship with your in-laws?”
Charlie shook her head. “His mom raised him.”
“Know her name, by chance? And where she lived?”
“I think her name was Suzanne Thompson, and she lived up near Dallas? He never spoke much of her. She was passed on when we met.”
“Yeah. Suzanne Thompson, and I think, the same as one Honorable Suzanne Thompson who was a judge up in Dallas, supposedly.”
T.R.’s brow furrowed. A judge? Coincidence?
“Know how she died, Charlie?” Tyler continued. “Just wanna verify I’ve got the right one.”
“I think from cancer? He was a teenager.”
“Okay, yeah, at seventeen.” He was writing things down, a soft scrawling of pen.
“He said he lived on his own until he graduated high school and started college here,” Charlie added.
“His dad was never in the picture growing up but they must have struck up a relationship at some point because he said his sperm donor helped him out a few times. He never wanted to talk about him, though.”
“Last question. Was Thompson his mom’s married name?”
“Jason said his mom never married.” She shrugged.
Silence.
Then all said at the same time various versions of, “He had his mom’s maiden name, not a father’s name.”
“Tyler?” T.R. pressed, also sitting upright now. “What’s on your mind?”
“That it confirms exactly what I was hoping,” Tyler said.
“Money scandals and infidelity are the two things, based on those records you isolated, Thaddeus, that matter more than anything to Mitchell and his platform. He’s tough on making sure noncustodial parents pay their fair share, and he’s loud ’n proud of his picture-perfect family, his wife of sixty-one years and their family of five children, two daughters and three sons, all between the ages of thirty-seven and twenty-seven.
A host of grandchildren. A real family values guy.
And I wondered … what would a guy like Mitchell want to hide more than anything? ”
“An affair,” T.R. and Charlie realized in unison.
“It’s what I’m thinking. Because why would a judge, lauded for his hardline record on child support, go easy on Jason over and over again?
The only reason I could think of would be that they’re related within a prohibited degree of kinship and Mitchell doesn’t want anyone to know.
Otherwise, he’d have to recuse himself from presiding over Jason’s legal fights and for some reason he either can’t or doesn’t want to.
“I found a will in a search for public records from Dallas, considering that’s where Jason was born and raised.
The grantor of the will, Suzanne Thompson, appears to have attended Yale law with Mitchell years ago, and she named Calvin Mitchell, Esquire, Jason Thompson’s trustee in the event she died before Jason reached majority.
Judge Thompson died of cervical cancer when Jason was seventeen, according to an archived obituary from a Dallas funeral home. ”
Charlie’s eyes shot to T.R.’s. “Does this mean he’s Mitchell’s … son?”
“Damn straight, it’s possible, likely probable,” Tyler replied triumphantly.
“Probable? Why else would Mitchell be Jason’s trustee?” T.R. demanded, fishing for his clothes to start redressing as the bedframe creaked, nodding at Charlie and mouthing, Let’s pack and get you home.
Home. He glanced to her uncle’s cabin, framed on her wall.
“If he’s Mitchell’s relative, that definitely makes Mitchell presiding over his cases a conflict of interest. Does that mean you can file that complaint of judicial misconduct?”
“Not necessarily.”
T.R. groaned, but Tyler continued.
“It’s what her will doesn’t state, which could be exculpatory.
Nowhere in the will does it say Mitchell is Jason’s father.
Or uncle. Or some other relation. So, for all we can assume, Mitchell could simply be an old college boyfriend or friend who Suzanne trusted to care for her child because she had no one else.
Until I have something that spells out their relationship, this could backfire on you. ”
“But what public record could possibly demonstrate a relationship between these two?” T.R. asked.
“Death records—can’t find any yet—or arrest records, tax records, contracts if a transaction was made that required state or county approval like various property purchases or gifts…”
Charlie’s brow furrowed. “Like real estate?”
“Yeah,” Tyler said after a beat, and T.R.’s eyes flashed to Charlie, who’s entire face dropped as her body sprang upright.
“Did Jason ever own a home?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Charlie said. “That’s one of the ways his dad helped him out. He bought Jason his home. When I was pregnant with Daisy, I lived there with him. But Jason sold it a year after she was born to pay off a debt.”
“The house was a gift, put in Jason’s name at the time of purchase?” T.R. clarified. “Ty, it’s like when the farm was on the table and the lawyers told me about affidavits estate managers need to sign indicating what their relationship is to the folks being … gifted to—”
Shit.
He cut himself off. Back when he’d been young and foolish and asked for a piece of property to inherit but had been blocked out of the proceedings. And less so, like now, when that farm was up for grabs again, when Ty put it on the market for more than T.R. would ever be able to afford.
A hand came out to touch his arm.
He looked down at Charlie, a gentle smile on her face for him. She understood.
T.R. planted a kiss to her lobe, resting his forehead against her, then compelled his hands to keep dressing, pulling on his other sock and sliding his dress shirt up his arms unbuttoned.
Ty cleared his throat and continued through the awkward silence.
“Similar to that, yeah. I think we’re onto something here,” Tyler said. “What’s that address, Charlie?”
It had been so brief a home, so long ago, and she scrambled off her bed, creaking the old metal again, to dig through the stacks of folders, coming back to the bedside to flip on the light.
She sifted through court documents. “Three nineteen, Magnolia Way. Here in Nacogdoches,” she said.
Tyler was scribbling it down. Then he clacked on his computer, when the man who barely ever cracked a smile chuckled like a hunter whose quarry was stepping right into his snare, as T.R. handed Charlie her bra and his old T-shirt.
“Oh, man … you wanna know who took advantage of tax-free gift laws to an adult child Jason Thompson, ten years ago?”
Charlie’s eyes connected with T.R.’s. as through the cell, they all said, “Mitchell.”
“Mitchell had an affair … Jason’s right in the middle of the ages of his other children,” Charlie realized.
“And when Daddy couldn’t get him out of criminal charges in Travis County, Jason sold the house to pay the debt,” Tyler said.
“And Mitchell doesn’t want voters to know,” T.R. growled wryly. “Does this mean you can make that misconduct complaint to the commission now and get him off Jason’s cases?”
Hope burgeoned in T.R.’s heart and sparkled in Charlie’s jades.
“Or better yet, off the bench completely,” Tyler growled satisfactorily.
“We found our smoking gun. Oh, and Charlie?” She paused to listen.
“Cyberbullying falls under harassment. Hard to prove but we’re gonna inundate Jason from every angle.
Bury his lawyer in a legal nightmare and Mitchell under a mountain of pressure till they crack.
File a complaint with the police, got it?
Get it on record and make the accusation that he doxed you online.
File another restraining order. Be relentless and beat ’em at their own game.
No holds barred with this fucker, got it? ”
She nodded resolutely, emboldened. Atta girl. T.R. had promised his cousin was cutthroat.
“I’ll drive her to the station once we’re done packing,” T.R. said.
“Good man. Now, finish getting dressed. Y’all are about as subtle as a train wreck. We got the girl.” Ty ended the call with a smirk in his voice.
T.R. chuckled at being called out but his eyes met hers and he cupped her cheek. “And I got you.”