Chapter 51
Jack watched CJ carefully. He was beyond impatient, beyond anxious.
CJ was pacing back and forth from the kitchen sink to the refrigerator with his hands buried deep in his pockets. He had more
than a five o’clock shadow, not the styled facial hair that made some men look fashionable but an uneven salt-and-pepper straggle
that made him look on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He’d spent only a couple of nights in jail for his contempt of court,
but jail could be hell on earth for a filthy-rich loud-mouth jerk who proclaims himself the savior of the oppressed. Jack
had seen more than his share of strung-out clients, and CJ had all the markings of a potentially dangerous level of impairment.
“CJ, I need you to sit down.”
His pacing continued. “Your client is a fucking thief!”
“Are you talking about Elliott?” Jack asked in a calm voice, even though he knew the answer.
“Yes! Him and his mother! They’re blackmailing me!”
Serena was a born blackmailer, but the accusation against Elliott struck Jack as paranoia.
“CJ, if Serena is blackmailing you for something, call the police. I don’t know anything about it.”
He stopped and shouted, “I can’t call the police!”
His eyes were like embers. It didn’t appear that he had a gun in his pocket, but Jack was calculating how long it would take
the police to arrive if he could get to his cell phone in his office and dial 911.
“Seriously, CJ. Please sit.”
“I don’t want to sit!
“What do you want?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, as if trying to bring clarity to his own thoughts. Then his eyes opened, and
he spoke in a voice that sounded surprisingly rational. “I want you to make sure that if I pay, the secret stays a secret.”
Jack was immediately reminded of his conversation with Elliott’s cellmate—the witness to Elliott’s beating who had overheard
Serena’s parting comment: Now we got CJ by the hairy balls. At the time, Jack had assumed it had something to do with CJ’s involvement in Owen’s death. The fact that he’d chosen jail
time for contempt of court over answering Jack’s questions had seemed like confirmation of that suspicion.
Clearly, something else was at play.
“What secret?” asked Jack.
CJ was silent, but the door from the lobby suddenly swung open.
“Tell him, CJ,” said Elliott.
No one moved because Elliott was holding a gun, and it was aimed squarely at CJ’s chest.
“Elliott,” Jack said in a calm voice, “put the gun away.”
“Stay where you are!” he said.
His voice was quaking, but Jack couldn’t tell if it was nerves or anger. Perhaps both.
“I have this under control,” said Jack. “You shouldn’t have come back.”
“You should have locked your front door.”
CJ cut a glance in Jack’s direction, then spoke to Elliott. “How much of this did you hear?”
“All of it,” said Elliott. “I saw your car across the street and knew you’d be telling lies about me. It’s time for that to
stop.”
“This isn’t the way to stop him from lying,” said Jack.
“I’m not lying! I’m being blackmailed!”
“By my mother, not me,” said Elliott.
“For something that never happened!”
Elliott’s face was red with anger. “Never happened? Just because my mother passed out and there were no witnesses doesn’t mean it never happened.”
Jack tried again to defuse the situation. “Elliott, whatever it was, if you say it happened, I believe you. Put the gun down
and let’s talk about this.”
Elliott’s glare tightened. “Deny it again, CJ. I’ve wanted to do this for seven years. So, please, deny the truth again. Give
me a reason to pull the trigger.”
“There’s no reason to pull the trigger,” said Jack.
Elliott’s gaze was fixed on CJ, but he spoke to Jack. “Have you ever wondered, Jack, why I changed my mind about the adoption
at the hospital?”
“That’s none of my business,” said Jack.
“Have you ever wondered why it was CJ who came up with the quarter million dollars my mother demanded from the Pollards for
the adoption to go through?”
“I’m sure there was a good reason,” said Jack.
“Have you ever wondered why, the minute I laid eyes on my baby, I knew I wanted to keep him?”
Jack had wondered about all those things, and he wanted to hear more—but not while Elliott’s finger was on the trigger.
“Elliott, you have your whole life ahead of you,” said Jack. “Don’t throw it away.”
“I’m not throwing anything away. It was taken—by CJ and then by my mother. Tell him, CJ. Tell Jack how I used to hide in my bedroom while you and my mother stayed up all
night doing drugs in the living room. Tell him about that night my mother passed out and you decided to come to my room and
have your way with a sixteen-year-old girl.”
Jack froze. The situation just got much more dangerous.
“Were you disappointed, CJ, to find out I was no virgin?”
“Please, put the gun down,” said Jack.
Elliott’s eyes welled, glistening with anger. “My mother convinced me that you were the father. The same way she convinced you. That’s how she got me to give up my baby for adoption. That’s how she got you to find the Pollards in the first place and then to pay up and make the adoption go through.”
Jack saw the look on CJ’s face—a look that said he, like Jack, was hearing this for the very first time.
“I nearly screwed it all up for her,” said Elliott. “As soon as I saw my baby, I knew you weren’t the father.”
CJ’s surprise turned to anger. “I told you, Jack! I told you they were blackmailing me for something that never happened.
The kid isn’t mine!”
“You raped me, you piece of shit!”
“Don’t shoot!” Jack shouted.
The gun was shaking, but there was no crack of a gunshot. Elliott held his pistol with both hands, trying to steady his aim
at CJ.
“You can’t do this,” said Jack. “I’m your lawyer, but I’m still a witness who will testify against you. Revenge is not self-defense.
If you shoot him, you’ll have to shoot me too.”
“Shoot him!” said CJ. “Your lawyer and your mother are the only ones who know the secret of that night. Shoot him and let him take it
to the grave. You and your mother can name your price.”
Elliott’s eyes darted from CJ to Jack and back again. Jack could hardly believe what he was seeing, but the pistol was slowly
moving in Jack’s direction.
“Elliott, this is crazy,” said Jack.
“Any price!” said CJ. “Millions, if you want. I’m a Vandermeer. You know I’m good for it.”
“I’m sorry, Jack,” said Elliott.
“Elliott, don’t.”
“But I have to do this.”
The gun jerked in CJ’s direction, and a single shot rang out.
“No!”
CJ was on the floor—but only because he’d dived for cover. A lone bullet hole marred the face of the white kitchen cabinet
behind him.
Elliott lowered the gun. “You’re not worth it, CJ.”
Before CJ could grasp what had happened, Jack was on top of him. CJ was too impaired to put up much of a fight. Jack easily
pinned him on his belly and jerked CJ’s arm behind his back, controlling him.
“Call 911!” Jack shouted, struggling to keep CJ still.
Elliott laid the gun on the table and took his cell phone from his pocket. “Sure,” he said, dialing. “This time I will.”