Chapter 17 Nick
Nick
The girl picks up on the third ring. “Hello.” She sounds so cheerful.
“Where are you?” I try not to sound annoyed.
My head is still mildly throbbing, adding to my irritation. I’ve never done anything that stupid before. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.
“At the farm.” She replies sarcastically. I run my fingers through my hair with irritation.
“Where at, at the farm?” Still trying not to sound annoyed, I’m not good at this game.
“I’m sitting on the porch at Elizabeth’s.”
Figures, it didn’t occur to me to check there. I checked Mama’s quarters, but I don’t make it a habit to impede on the farm employee’s privacy.
“How was therapy? What did you tell her?” I was tempted to tap her therapy sessions but decided it’d be better if I didn’t.
She claims multiple abusers and there’s no way to tell who is innocent and who isn’t if she can’t identify them. If I hear the details about her abuse, I just might burn that whole fucking shithole town to the ground.
“That’s private.” She says sweetly, like she’s taunting me, which I know she probably isn’t.
It still gets under my skin. I grit my teeth, warring with myself over what I truly want. If she would just tell me, I’d hand her the gasoline and matches. Anything she needs to get her retribution. “All of it is private? What about your name?”
“I didn’t tell her more than what she needed to know or anything that could be used to identify the real me, if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, today was just an intake appointment. Even if it wasn’t, she said she’s bound by law to keep what I tell her private.”
Not true.
“Murder falls under the laws for mandatory reporting, but she won’t tell you that.”
“Oh,” she whispers.
Yes, little one, oh.
Against my better judgement, I pop my earbud in so I can still talk while I pull up the camera aiming at Elizabeth’s porch on my phone.
I zoom in. She’s sitting on the front step in a pair of short, frayed, blue jean shorts, and a tight white tank top.
I don’t like it. Well, that’s not exactly it, I do like it, I just don’t like that others can see her.
My jaw ticks again. I can just about see down her shirt. This isn’t going to work. She’s going to need clothes that cover her better or she’s going to be too distracting to the male staff—and me.
“This is why you need to trust me, it’s my job to know the law, cupcake. Anyway, you will go with Elizabeth tomorrow to get more clothes and boots to wear around the farm.” I’ll be messaging Elizabeth to make sure she knows to have her get more fitting clothes.
There’s a long silence.
“I don’t want to keep owing you for things. I’ll keep track of my receipts, though, so one day I can pay you back. Please let me know what I owe you for the phone.” She picks at her fingers, something I’ve noticed she does when she’s uncomfortable.
I know where she is, and I shouldn’t still be watching her, but I can’t seem to look away from her troubled face.
“The farm has a staff account for things like phones, clothes, shoes, food, etc. It’s a tax write off. You’re working there, therefore you’re already earning your keep. Which reminds me, your new laptop will be delivered in a few days so you can register for classes.”
“I haven’t done the job yet. Anyway, I’ve changed my mind, I think I’m going to wait a year or two to enroll.” She’s tense, that isn’t what she really wants.
“Is this about money, again?” There’s another long pause. She doesn’t answer so I continue. “I prefer to have educated employees. Consider it part of the job.”
“I don’t have transcripts, I can’t enroll.” She looks up at the sky like she’s waiting for it to rain down more excuses if I push her more.
I grin. She’s going to have to come up with better arguments.
“I’ll have your new, official, transcripts sent to Magnolia State University by the end of the week.”
“How can you send official transcripts?”
“When you’re me, there’s not much you can’t do.” Unless it’s stay sober, not have a childish riff with the prosecuting attorney, and not pass out on my desk. Definitely not my finest moment.
“What if I can’t finish the job? Please let me wait so I can pay you back for everything.” She leans on the banister and drops her head.
Her pleading is cute, but I wouldn’t agree even if she was on her knees and begging. “No, and don’t push me on this, Maya. It’s not up for discussion.” My eye and my palm are twitching. These women are going to be the death of me.
“Sir, Kaleb Cherry is here to see you.” I check my watch, 9 a.m. on the dot. I appreciate someone who is punctual.
“Send him in.” Sasha’s basically avoided me since I didn’t address her the other day. Oh well. I’m relieved by it, if I’m being honest. She’s getting too clingy.
Kaleb comes through the door, looking like your typical run-of-the-mill Whiskey Rivers citizen.
Too skinny, dressed in rags, and could use a haircut and shave.
I’m not picking on him for being poor—it’s his pupils that make him stand out.
They’re so dilated they look blown. His swollen nose looks like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
I stand to greet him, but he doesn’t bother to shake my hand. “Have a seat, Kaleb. Can I offer you a bottle of water?”
“Naw, man, don’t touch the stuff. There’s no telling what the government is trying to put in there to control us.” He slumps down in the chair, scanning the room, for what I don’t know.
I want to ask him what makes him think blow is a healthier option, but I refrain. “How long have you lived in Whiskey Rivers?”
“My whole life. I got everything I need there, man. Don’t want to go nowhere else.” He starts picking at a scab on his arm, making me internally cringe.
“Looks like you got yourself into some trouble, wanna tell me about it?” I pick up my pen and paper, pretending to take notes.
“Not really, man, I don’t want to get in more trouble. Can’t you just talk to the cops and judge and do some fancy lawyer stuff to get me off the hook?” He eyes me cautiously.
My eye starts to twitch. This is why I usually stick to high-profile cases. I don’t have the patience for ignorance. “That’s not how it works. It’s my due diligence as a lawyer to keep what you tell me confidential. I can’t help you if I don’t know your story.”
He blows out a breath. “My buddies and I get together at the Buckit Club on Wednesday nights for poker and roulette. One of the new guys accused me of stealing his chips and we got in a fight. His bitch ass called his brother who’s a cop. I was high and forgot I had a pocket full of percs.”
“Where is this Buckit Club?” I’m into crime and never heard of such place.
“It’s hidden in the woods outside Whiskey Rivers. We like to keep it a remote location, gets kinda rowdy if you know what I’m saying, people fightin’ and shit.”
“But the police were called out there to pick you up?” I watch as he tries hard to sit still but fails miserably. And what’s that smell? He smells like he bathed in a three-day-old fish guts that have been soaking in the sun.
“I said he called his brother. Cops like to get in on the dirty, ya know. His brother already knows the place. He’d been waiting to pick me up because I fucked his sister and sent her hoe ass back to the street after.
They found her in a ditch the next day. That wasn’t nothing on me, man, that bitch was just waiting to get dealt with. Owed people money and shit.”
I see an opportunity to bring up the Rivers family, so I take it.
“Did you or the Buckit Club have anything to do with the explosion last week? The news reported one person was killed.” I sit back in my chair, pretending to take more notes.
“That was Frank Rivers’ place. Frank used to gamble with us, owed a lot of people money and made a lot of enemies, so I guess it’s possible. His daughter’s missing. I reckon someone took her for payment. Girl’s mouth was like a hoover, if you know what I mean.”
It’s almost as if the world has just tilted on its axis. What the fuck did he just say? “Excuse me?” I keep my face and demeanor relaxed, hiding my surprise. I know exactly what he’s alluding to.
“She was just like any other trick in town, willing to suck a dick for a dollar.” He grins as if remembering something.
I clutch my fist to keep from knocking his fucking teeth out and I tuck that little bit information in the corner of my mind for a later date. The girl conveniently left that out on our talk the other night.
Isn’t the new trend going around that we listen and we don’t judge or some asinine shit like that? That’s important information I need to know about her past.
“So you were acquainted with her? Were you involved or could you be implicated in the explosion?”
A smile, again, spreads across his pock-marked face, revealing his rotting teeth. “She blew me for some cash once or twice. Said she was trying to make money for school or some shit. I ain’t blown nobody up, though. Why you ask that?”
I clench the pen in my hand, ready to snap it at any second. Kaleb Cherry just signed his death warrant. It shouldn’t piss me off as bad as it does. She’s my employee, not my possession. All that happened before I met her, but then again, I’m not a very rational person all the time, am I?
“As your lawyer, I need to know any possible charges that might be brought up.” I really want to snap his filthy neck.
“Nah man, ain’t got nothin’ to do with me.” He starts chewing on his dirty fingernails.
“Have the police questioned you about it? Do they have any leads?” I’ve been so busy I haven’t looked for more news articles about it and haven’t followed up with any of my contacts to see.
“They said it was just a gas leak.” Well no shit, Sherlock.
“Is anyone looking for the missing girl?”
He squirms in his seat; I can’t tell if it’s the drugs or nerves. He hasn’t been still since he came in. “Doubt it, she ain’t got no family. If someone took her, they took her. If she ran away, oh well. Ain’t no concern of mine.” His eyes look anywhere but mine.