Jacqui
Police Officer
All right . . . I hope the following will answer all open questions. If it sounds like too much of a writer's contrivance, remember I'm entitled to one per episode . . . 
Enjoy, and thanks for your constant and very lovely support.
“Are you ready for this?”
Elizabeth sipped the cup of coffee in her left hand. She held her briefcase in the other. Her jaw was set, her eyes determined in that no-nonsense way that most everyone who knew her was familiar with. Nick bore a similar expression, except that where Elizabeth’s face conveyed confidence, his conveyed worry.
He nodded. “Yes.”
She imitated his movement and gestured toward the conference room, where the hearing would take place, with her coffee cup. “Our presiding judge is Howard Parker. I’ve dealt with him only a handful of times and it was years ago. The guy’s as old as the hills and twice as unpredictable, but there are ways to handle him. First of all, he wants to hear sir – yes sir, no sir, and thank you sir. Shouldn’t be hard for a nice Southern boy like you, right?”
“Right,” he replied absent-mindedly.
“Always call him Judge Parker, never your honor – that, I don’t get, but it’s his thing. He’ll never correct you, but he will get increasingly annoyed. He will also talk directly to you at all times.”
“Right – because I’m the defendant.”
“No, because you have a penis. As far as I know, DFS isn’t sending a penis, so at least we have that going for us. Now listen Stokes, there’s no defendant – you’re the petitioner. You don’t need defense. Get that straight in your head and stop looking like a guilty puppy.”
He nodded, trying to fix his face. “Okay.”
“Let me see some arrogance. Some entitlement. Remember,” she said, whispering conspiratorially as she took a step closer, “you found her. You were the only one who was looking for a girl, not a body. You pulled her off the shore of that lake. You saved her life.” Their eyes locked and a moment passed between them. “And now you want to give her a home. You’re a good man, a good CSI, a public servant. No one tells you you’re not good enough.”
Nick’s eyes had hardened, and he nodded. “No one.”
“That’s right,” said Elizabeth, stepping back. “Now, the other thing we have going for us is that as a younger man, Judge Parker wanted to practice criminal law but couldn’t handle the less than pleasant aspects of it. He’d have nightmares after talking with psychologists about the criminal mind and graphic photos and descriptions of crime scenes made him physically ill. His squeamishness plays to your advantage because he admires police officers and crime scene analysts.”
“I can do what he couldn’t,” surmised Nick.
“This plays to your advantage because Parker loves his evidence. With this in mind, as we’ve discussed, we’re going to handle this like a criminal case. Like you and I usually do, we’re focusing on evidence – or in this case, the lack of it. DFS has nothing to support its denial.”
“I’m entitled.”
“Exactly.”
Doubt flicked across his face for a fraction of a second. Elizabeth, conditioned to look for that flick in defendants on the stand, noticed and corrected it. She looked up into his eyes and said, “You can do this, Nick. If for no other reason than to see Cassie smile at you when you tell her she can come home.”
He smiled. “I can do this,” he said, and in his voice she heard the confidence she wanted to hear.
“That’s right.”
“Cassie’s coming home.”
“That’s right.”
He nodded again, and this time, he felt it. “Let’s do this.”
With a smirk, she led him into the conference room. They were not the first ones to have entered it; a lone woman, tall and blonde, sat facing the windows, a folder open before her. “Hello,” said Elizabeth in greeting as she entered the room.
Nick chose a seat opposite the blonde woman, his expression cold.
She smirked back at him. “Mr. Stokes,” she replied. “How are you?” Then she caught sight of Elizabeth setting her briefcase and coffee cup down on the table before she pulled the chair out and seated herself. “What happened to David Martin?”
“I upgraded,” he said, his eyes not wavering from hers.
Elizabeth had been extracting the pertinent documents from her briefcase during this exchange. Once she was seated and the documents arranged neatly, she looked up at Mrs. Miller to explain, but stopped cold.
“Jaycie Willman.”
Nick watched as the blonde woman’s smile froze, and at the same time, it occurred to him why she was so familiar looking.
“I knew I’d seen your name before,” Elizabeth said, her eyes narrowing as she connected dots in her head. “You testified for the county in a child abuse case three years ago – you testified against Marcus Hendershot. You’re related to Jack Willman, aren’t you?”
“My name is Miller,” she said, fidgeting slightly.
“But it used to be Willman,” said Nick. “You’re that son of a bitch’s sister.” He remembered sitting in the court room on the day Jack Willman was sentenced to thirty years in prison – this woman, her face pressed into a tissue, had been sitting behind him in tears. “Is that what this is about? You’re getting back at me because your brother couldn’t pin strangling an innocent girl on me?”
“That girl was a whore,” she spat, disgust in her voice.
“He’s a whore,” Nick countered, “and she didn’t deserve to die.” Elizabeth put her hand on his arm in warning.
Mrs. Miller’s face twisted and turned pink. “I will thank you not to call my brother names,” she replied tersely. “The fact that Jack is my brother has very little to do with this matter.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, my misguided friend,” said Elizabeth. “And when Judge Parker gets here, you’re going to find out exactly how wrong you are.”
“Judge Parker will want to know all of the details regarding the offense committed by Mr. Stokes,” she replied, her prim voice returning. “And he’s going to hear every gory one of them.”
“What he’s going to hear is that you don’t have substantiation for your claims against my client,” spat Elizabeth, “and then he’s going to hear-”
Their heated discussion was cut short when Judge Howard Parker walked into the conference room, wearing his robe and carrying a folder in his hands. A court reporter followed him into the room, setting her portable stenotype at the opposite end of the conference room table. “Good morning,” he said in greeting, waddling over to his chair and sitting down. “Would you mind getting the door for me, my dear?” he asked of Mrs. Miller.
She bristled at his tone but rose to shut the conference room door. When she resumed her seat, Parker continued, turning to Nick. “I’m Howard Parker . . . you must be Mr. Stokes.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied, gesturing to Elizabeth at his right. “This is Elizabeth Halles, my attorney.”
“Oh, yes,” said the judge, wheezing as he spoke, “yes, you have the district attorney on your side, Mr. Stokes. Very clever of you, very clever.” He turned his gaze to Elizabeth. “I voted for you, you know, Miss Halles.”
“Thank you, Judge Parker,” she replied with an amused smirk, knowing it was more likely that he’d campaigned against her. “I certainly appreciate it.”
Smiling, Parker nodded and turned to Mrs. Miller. “And you must be Jaycie Miller, representing the Department of Family Services, is that right?”
“Yes, your honor,” she replied, turning her glare at Elizabeth into another prim smile as she faced him.
Parker got down to business, turning to Nick. “We’re here to discuss the matter of your petition for guardianship – a Cassandra McBride is the child in question, is that right?”
Nick nodded, smiling a little. “Cassie . . . yes, sir.”
“The petition was turned down due to some criminal activity on your record, Mr. Stokes. There has also been some concern raised regarding your involvement with said same child in a different criminal case – is that the gist of your argument, Mrs. Miller?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied primly. “Mr. Stokes was involved in the murder of a prostitute in 2001-”
“I do read these things before they’re heard, Mrs. Miller. No need to re-hash what we already know. We all understand the argument?”
Nick met Parker’s eyes and said, “Yes, sir.” Elizabeth remained silent.
“Of course, your honor.”
Parker shot an annoyed look at Mrs. Miller before returning to Nick. “Excellent. Now, Mr. Stokes, you have filed an appeal . . . everything’s in good order there. I don’t like to be too formal about these things – let’s hear your response to these claims.”
“Thank you, sir. First, I’d like to clear up the matter of the conflict of interest claim. I did not have any contact with Miss McBride until all of the litigation surrounding the tragic event that orphaned her in the first place was completed. I met her by chance following Luke Daniels’ sentencing.”
“And that was the first time you had any contact with her after taking her statement when she was found?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ah . . . very good. Mrs. Miller, do you have any evidence to the contrary?”
“No, sir, but if that’s true, then Mr. Stokes should be able to provide the court with third party testimony regarding that fact.”
Elizabeth pushed two pieces of paper forward; Nick picked them up. “I have a statement here from Sheriff Dennis Brackett,” he said, handing one of the documents to the judge. “He took Miss McBride in after her parents’ murder, and then oversaw her transition to foster care.”
Judge Parker took the document and perched his spectacles on his nose. “Ah, yes – this should satisfy your concerns, Mrs. Miller,” he said once he’d read it, handing it to her.
Mrs. Miller read over the sheriff’s statement. Clucking her tongue, she said, “It’s just one letter.”
“I also have a statement from Cassie’s foster mother, Emily Patterson,” said Nick smoothly, handing Parker the other document.
Judge Parker accepted and reviewed the paper, passing it to Mrs. Miller. “That’ll be sufficient,” he said dismissively. He turned back to the documents in his own folder. “Now, Mr. Stokes . . . about the criminal activity . . . this is a very heavy matter.”
“Yes, it is,” agreed Nick.
“Would you care to explain?”
“I wish I could, sir,” he said, settling back into his chair. “But there isn’t any criminal activity on my record at all. Quite frankly, the suggestion that I was involved in someone’s murder is both outrageous and personally offensive, both to me and to my colleagues. You know as well as I do, sir, that had I been charged in this or any other matter, guilty or not I would’ve been fired, I would never have met Cassie McBride, and you and I would not be sitting here today.”
“If that’s the case, Mrs. Miller, what do you base your claims on?”
“Sir, charges are irrelevant. Mr. Stokes had an association with a prostitute. That’s enough to make his character suspect.”
Nick narrowed his eyes, finding it difficult to follow Elizabeth’s advice to stay cool. “Yeah . . . association. Judge Parker, despite multiple requests from my attorney, Mrs. Miller has failed to produce any kind of documentation to substantiate her denial of my petition.” He turned to look at Mrs. Miller and lowered his voice a little. “I bet I can come up with some documentation on your association with some of the same people in that murder.”
“Nick,” snapped Elizabeth under her breath as she kept an eye on Parker, whose attention was thankfully arrested by the contents of his file.
“Birth certificate would work.”
Elizabeth kicked his leg. He turned the mean, angry look toward her for a moment and saw it staring right back at him.
“Shut up,” she mouthed. He turned back to the judge.
“Yes, I’m afraid Mr. Stokes is correct,” said Parker, looking up at Mrs. Miller. “Have you got some kind of documentation?”
Mrs. Miller was beginning to flounder. “Documentation, your honor?”
“Yes . . . we don’t just approve or deny good people who want to care for our children based on the weather, Mrs. Miller. You say he was involved in a murder – well, let’s see the evidence.”
“I’m not sure what you’re expecting to see,” she replied, looking into her briefcase.
“You did complete a background check, Mrs. Miller?” he asked, and from the expression on his face, Elizabeth knew they’d won.
“Judge Parker, if I may?”
“Oh, yes,” the judge replied, “by all means, Miss Halles.”
“Thank you, sir. Mr. Stokes and I just want to understand where Mrs. Miller’s information is coming from. I mean, I understand . . . Miss Hopkins was a prostitute, but she still receives equal treatment under the law, which includes privacy. The details of her murder are not for public consumption, so it’s curious that she claims to have information that ought to have been kept confidential.”
“Miss Halles, you know as well as I do that these are public records,” spat Mrs. Miller.
Nick answered for Elizabeth. “Sir, we’d be happy to discuss this further if Mrs. Miller can provide us with the source of her information. I attended the trial, which is the only public record regarding Miss Hopkins’ murder, and I can reasonably assure you that my name was never mentioned.”
“Do you have documentation to support your accusations, Mrs. Miller?” asked Judge Parker, turning his aged blue eyes toward her.
“Your Honor-”
“If you haven’t got anything to substantiate your claims, I don’t have any choice except to recommend that Mr. Stokes’ petition be re-evaluated and that you remove yourself from any cases involving either Mr. Stokes or Miss McBride.”
“Judge Parker, the department objects more to the association with Miss Hopkins as a prostitute-”
“Honestly, Mrs. Miller – this is Las Vegas. Everyone knows a prostitute. Now, I have made my decision and I haven’t got all day to debate it with you.” He turned to Nick. “You’re free to go, Mr. Stokes – and good luck with your adoption.” He nodded once at Nick, who thanked him as he left the conference room. The stenographer followed him out.
Silence reigned until Elizabeth was sure that Judge Parker was out of earshot. Then she leveled a piercing stare at Jaycie Miller nee Willman, and even Nick had never heard such a chill in her voice as she said, “If there is one. More. Wrinkle. In this process for Mr. Stokes, you will. Be. Exposed. For the fraud. That you are.”
She bristled again. “I’m not a fr-”
“You failed to complete a background check on Mr. Stokes before you produced a letter from the county denying his request. You put it on county letterhead and filed it as an official record. This was based on information you obtained from an unauthorized source. Your communication was, therefore, unauthorized, unlawful, and fraudulent.”
Mrs. Miller said nothing, but glared at Nick and then Elizabeth.
“The county does not take these things lightly, Miss Willman, and as far as this matter is concerned, I am the county. One phone call and you’ll have to move out of state to work again. Do you understand?”
“I understand that I’m being threatened.”
The corner of Elizabeth’s mouth turned up. “Good. Then you do understand. Have a nice day, Mrs. Miller.” Collecting her documents, she closed them up in her briefcase as Nick gathered his folder and rose.
Before leaving the conference room and Jaycie Miller, hopefully forever, behind, Nick couldn’t resist. “Hey, how’s Jack doin’ in prison, by the way?” he asked. “I bet he’s pretty popular. He’s got that clean-cut look those fellas just love.” Smirking arrogantly as Mrs. Miller’s face twisted and turned red this time, he followed Elizabeth.
They left the conference room together and were silent until they reached the main floor of the building, where he turned to her. “That went well,” he said.
“It went very well,” she agreed, her expression and tone all pleasantness again. “Why do you look so tense? You should be skippin’ right now.”
He searched her eyes for a moment. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
She shook her head, amused. “No, you shouldn’t have.” He smiled and lowered his gaze to his shoes for a moment. She touched his chin, and he raised it to look at her again. “‘Re-evaluated’ is not a stamp of approval. It means they start over. It could still be another four to six weeks before the real background check is completed. We still don’t know what she did and she did not complete.”
“But now I know there’s nothing in my way,” he said, his voice low.
“And you have a competent lawyer,” she reminded him, “instead of that indolent hack your father sent you to.”
He chuckled a little and shook his head. “Wasn’t his fault, really. I should have known better – I should’ve known my dad would just ask Billy – my older, more lawyer-ey brother.”
“But you’d think your brother would’ve given you a good referral,” she said.
He shook his head. “No – Billy wants kids but his wife doesn’t. He and I have this . . . competitive kind of relationship. It started when I started playing baseball and I got good fast. Before that I was the sick but smart one and Billy was the athlete, and when I became the smart athlete . . .” Nick trailed off, shaking his head. “Y’know. Ever since then it’s been who can one-up who.”
“So when he found out about Cassie, he remembered his lazy, beer-swilling law school chum and thought – hmm, I should tell Nick about this fella.”
He chuckled again. “Well, I don’t know about all that, but . . . I’m assumin’ something like that went on.”
“Sabotage,” said Elizabeth. “I’m sure he just wanted to annoy you with a lazy attorney, but he should be ashamed as a lawyer and as a brother. But at least Martin’s just a bonehead and didn’t do any damage. Then I’d really have work to do.”
Nick smiled. How much damage would be done by David Martin if he called Billy and talked about what he’d discovered was still undetermined, but at the moment, Nick didn’t care much. “Thank you. For everything.”
Elizabeth smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said, biting her lower lip. “You and Cassie have become very special to me.” He looked away suddenly, and then his eyes rested on her shoulder. “What is it, Nick?” she whispered.
He traced her shoulder and upper arm slowly with his fingertips as he turned his head to meet her eyes again. “I’m trying to get used to this . . .” He gestured towards her, and then himself, and back again. “This thing we got goin’ on. It’s kind of a confusing dynamic.”
She nodded. “It can be,” she agreed.
“You’re my lawyer and you’re essentially a co-worker, and . . . .” He trailed off, not really knowing what was making his brow knit together.
“And you want to do something but you don’t know what?”
That made him smile. “Oh, I know what I want to do,” he replied. “It’s just not appropriate for the lobby of a municipal building.”
Smirking, she replied, “Perhaps distraction is the best strategy here. You do realize we just won?”
It was a good strategy. His heart filled with glee and he nodded. “Yeah – we did, didn’t we?” Captivated by the smile in her green eyes, he admired her for a moment before he continued. “Cassie wanted to know how the hearing went, so I’m going to visit her right after school. But . . . why don’t you let me buy you dinner? We should celebrate.”
She nodded, biting her lip again. “I’d like that.”
His brow pushed together suddenly. “Hey, you kicked me,” he accused, trying to be offended.
“You were gettin’ sassy,” she reminded him, hoisting an eyebrow.
His nostrils flared as he took in a breath, drinking in her loveliness. “God, I want to kiss you.”
She blushed. “Tonight,” she promised. They made arrangements to meet, and he couldn’t help leaning in to brush her cheek with his lips before he left the building.
________________________
(c) 2008 J. H. Thompson
Enjoy, and thanks for your constant and very lovely support.
*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
“Are you ready for this?”
Elizabeth sipped the cup of coffee in her left hand. She held her briefcase in the other. Her jaw was set, her eyes determined in that no-nonsense way that most everyone who knew her was familiar with. Nick bore a similar expression, except that where Elizabeth’s face conveyed confidence, his conveyed worry.
He nodded. “Yes.”
She imitated his movement and gestured toward the conference room, where the hearing would take place, with her coffee cup. “Our presiding judge is Howard Parker. I’ve dealt with him only a handful of times and it was years ago. The guy’s as old as the hills and twice as unpredictable, but there are ways to handle him. First of all, he wants to hear sir – yes sir, no sir, and thank you sir. Shouldn’t be hard for a nice Southern boy like you, right?”
“Right,” he replied absent-mindedly.
“Always call him Judge Parker, never your honor – that, I don’t get, but it’s his thing. He’ll never correct you, but he will get increasingly annoyed. He will also talk directly to you at all times.”
“Right – because I’m the defendant.”
“No, because you have a penis. As far as I know, DFS isn’t sending a penis, so at least we have that going for us. Now listen Stokes, there’s no defendant – you’re the petitioner. You don’t need defense. Get that straight in your head and stop looking like a guilty puppy.”
He nodded, trying to fix his face. “Okay.”
“Let me see some arrogance. Some entitlement. Remember,” she said, whispering conspiratorially as she took a step closer, “you found her. You were the only one who was looking for a girl, not a body. You pulled her off the shore of that lake. You saved her life.” Their eyes locked and a moment passed between them. “And now you want to give her a home. You’re a good man, a good CSI, a public servant. No one tells you you’re not good enough.”
Nick’s eyes had hardened, and he nodded. “No one.”
“That’s right,” said Elizabeth, stepping back. “Now, the other thing we have going for us is that as a younger man, Judge Parker wanted to practice criminal law but couldn’t handle the less than pleasant aspects of it. He’d have nightmares after talking with psychologists about the criminal mind and graphic photos and descriptions of crime scenes made him physically ill. His squeamishness plays to your advantage because he admires police officers and crime scene analysts.”
“I can do what he couldn’t,” surmised Nick.
“This plays to your advantage because Parker loves his evidence. With this in mind, as we’ve discussed, we’re going to handle this like a criminal case. Like you and I usually do, we’re focusing on evidence – or in this case, the lack of it. DFS has nothing to support its denial.”
“I’m entitled.”
“Exactly.”
Doubt flicked across his face for a fraction of a second. Elizabeth, conditioned to look for that flick in defendants on the stand, noticed and corrected it. She looked up into his eyes and said, “You can do this, Nick. If for no other reason than to see Cassie smile at you when you tell her she can come home.”
He smiled. “I can do this,” he said, and in his voice she heard the confidence she wanted to hear.
“That’s right.”
“Cassie’s coming home.”
“That’s right.”
He nodded again, and this time, he felt it. “Let’s do this.”
With a smirk, she led him into the conference room. They were not the first ones to have entered it; a lone woman, tall and blonde, sat facing the windows, a folder open before her. “Hello,” said Elizabeth in greeting as she entered the room.
Nick chose a seat opposite the blonde woman, his expression cold.
She smirked back at him. “Mr. Stokes,” she replied. “How are you?” Then she caught sight of Elizabeth setting her briefcase and coffee cup down on the table before she pulled the chair out and seated herself. “What happened to David Martin?”
“I upgraded,” he said, his eyes not wavering from hers.
Elizabeth had been extracting the pertinent documents from her briefcase during this exchange. Once she was seated and the documents arranged neatly, she looked up at Mrs. Miller to explain, but stopped cold.
“Jaycie Willman.”
Nick watched as the blonde woman’s smile froze, and at the same time, it occurred to him why she was so familiar looking.
“I knew I’d seen your name before,” Elizabeth said, her eyes narrowing as she connected dots in her head. “You testified for the county in a child abuse case three years ago – you testified against Marcus Hendershot. You’re related to Jack Willman, aren’t you?”
“My name is Miller,” she said, fidgeting slightly.
“But it used to be Willman,” said Nick. “You’re that son of a bitch’s sister.” He remembered sitting in the court room on the day Jack Willman was sentenced to thirty years in prison – this woman, her face pressed into a tissue, had been sitting behind him in tears. “Is that what this is about? You’re getting back at me because your brother couldn’t pin strangling an innocent girl on me?”
“That girl was a whore,” she spat, disgust in her voice.
“He’s a whore,” Nick countered, “and she didn’t deserve to die.” Elizabeth put her hand on his arm in warning.
Mrs. Miller’s face twisted and turned pink. “I will thank you not to call my brother names,” she replied tersely. “The fact that Jack is my brother has very little to do with this matter.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, my misguided friend,” said Elizabeth. “And when Judge Parker gets here, you’re going to find out exactly how wrong you are.”
“Judge Parker will want to know all of the details regarding the offense committed by Mr. Stokes,” she replied, her prim voice returning. “And he’s going to hear every gory one of them.”
“What he’s going to hear is that you don’t have substantiation for your claims against my client,” spat Elizabeth, “and then he’s going to hear-”
Their heated discussion was cut short when Judge Howard Parker walked into the conference room, wearing his robe and carrying a folder in his hands. A court reporter followed him into the room, setting her portable stenotype at the opposite end of the conference room table. “Good morning,” he said in greeting, waddling over to his chair and sitting down. “Would you mind getting the door for me, my dear?” he asked of Mrs. Miller.
She bristled at his tone but rose to shut the conference room door. When she resumed her seat, Parker continued, turning to Nick. “I’m Howard Parker . . . you must be Mr. Stokes.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied, gesturing to Elizabeth at his right. “This is Elizabeth Halles, my attorney.”
“Oh, yes,” said the judge, wheezing as he spoke, “yes, you have the district attorney on your side, Mr. Stokes. Very clever of you, very clever.” He turned his gaze to Elizabeth. “I voted for you, you know, Miss Halles.”
“Thank you, Judge Parker,” she replied with an amused smirk, knowing it was more likely that he’d campaigned against her. “I certainly appreciate it.”
Smiling, Parker nodded and turned to Mrs. Miller. “And you must be Jaycie Miller, representing the Department of Family Services, is that right?”
“Yes, your honor,” she replied, turning her glare at Elizabeth into another prim smile as she faced him.
Parker got down to business, turning to Nick. “We’re here to discuss the matter of your petition for guardianship – a Cassandra McBride is the child in question, is that right?”
Nick nodded, smiling a little. “Cassie . . . yes, sir.”
“The petition was turned down due to some criminal activity on your record, Mr. Stokes. There has also been some concern raised regarding your involvement with said same child in a different criminal case – is that the gist of your argument, Mrs. Miller?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied primly. “Mr. Stokes was involved in the murder of a prostitute in 2001-”
“I do read these things before they’re heard, Mrs. Miller. No need to re-hash what we already know. We all understand the argument?”
Nick met Parker’s eyes and said, “Yes, sir.” Elizabeth remained silent.
“Of course, your honor.”
Parker shot an annoyed look at Mrs. Miller before returning to Nick. “Excellent. Now, Mr. Stokes, you have filed an appeal . . . everything’s in good order there. I don’t like to be too formal about these things – let’s hear your response to these claims.”
“Thank you, sir. First, I’d like to clear up the matter of the conflict of interest claim. I did not have any contact with Miss McBride until all of the litigation surrounding the tragic event that orphaned her in the first place was completed. I met her by chance following Luke Daniels’ sentencing.”
“And that was the first time you had any contact with her after taking her statement when she was found?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ah . . . very good. Mrs. Miller, do you have any evidence to the contrary?”
“No, sir, but if that’s true, then Mr. Stokes should be able to provide the court with third party testimony regarding that fact.”
Elizabeth pushed two pieces of paper forward; Nick picked them up. “I have a statement here from Sheriff Dennis Brackett,” he said, handing one of the documents to the judge. “He took Miss McBride in after her parents’ murder, and then oversaw her transition to foster care.”
Judge Parker took the document and perched his spectacles on his nose. “Ah, yes – this should satisfy your concerns, Mrs. Miller,” he said once he’d read it, handing it to her.
Mrs. Miller read over the sheriff’s statement. Clucking her tongue, she said, “It’s just one letter.”
“I also have a statement from Cassie’s foster mother, Emily Patterson,” said Nick smoothly, handing Parker the other document.
Judge Parker accepted and reviewed the paper, passing it to Mrs. Miller. “That’ll be sufficient,” he said dismissively. He turned back to the documents in his own folder. “Now, Mr. Stokes . . . about the criminal activity . . . this is a very heavy matter.”
“Yes, it is,” agreed Nick.
“Would you care to explain?”
“I wish I could, sir,” he said, settling back into his chair. “But there isn’t any criminal activity on my record at all. Quite frankly, the suggestion that I was involved in someone’s murder is both outrageous and personally offensive, both to me and to my colleagues. You know as well as I do, sir, that had I been charged in this or any other matter, guilty or not I would’ve been fired, I would never have met Cassie McBride, and you and I would not be sitting here today.”
“If that’s the case, Mrs. Miller, what do you base your claims on?”
“Sir, charges are irrelevant. Mr. Stokes had an association with a prostitute. That’s enough to make his character suspect.”
Nick narrowed his eyes, finding it difficult to follow Elizabeth’s advice to stay cool. “Yeah . . . association. Judge Parker, despite multiple requests from my attorney, Mrs. Miller has failed to produce any kind of documentation to substantiate her denial of my petition.” He turned to look at Mrs. Miller and lowered his voice a little. “I bet I can come up with some documentation on your association with some of the same people in that murder.”
“Nick,” snapped Elizabeth under her breath as she kept an eye on Parker, whose attention was thankfully arrested by the contents of his file.
“Birth certificate would work.”
Elizabeth kicked his leg. He turned the mean, angry look toward her for a moment and saw it staring right back at him.
“Shut up,” she mouthed. He turned back to the judge.
“Yes, I’m afraid Mr. Stokes is correct,” said Parker, looking up at Mrs. Miller. “Have you got some kind of documentation?”
Mrs. Miller was beginning to flounder. “Documentation, your honor?”
“Yes . . . we don’t just approve or deny good people who want to care for our children based on the weather, Mrs. Miller. You say he was involved in a murder – well, let’s see the evidence.”
“I’m not sure what you’re expecting to see,” she replied, looking into her briefcase.
“You did complete a background check, Mrs. Miller?” he asked, and from the expression on his face, Elizabeth knew they’d won.
“Judge Parker, if I may?”
“Oh, yes,” the judge replied, “by all means, Miss Halles.”
“Thank you, sir. Mr. Stokes and I just want to understand where Mrs. Miller’s information is coming from. I mean, I understand . . . Miss Hopkins was a prostitute, but she still receives equal treatment under the law, which includes privacy. The details of her murder are not for public consumption, so it’s curious that she claims to have information that ought to have been kept confidential.”
“Miss Halles, you know as well as I do that these are public records,” spat Mrs. Miller.
Nick answered for Elizabeth. “Sir, we’d be happy to discuss this further if Mrs. Miller can provide us with the source of her information. I attended the trial, which is the only public record regarding Miss Hopkins’ murder, and I can reasonably assure you that my name was never mentioned.”
“Do you have documentation to support your accusations, Mrs. Miller?” asked Judge Parker, turning his aged blue eyes toward her.
“Your Honor-”
“If you haven’t got anything to substantiate your claims, I don’t have any choice except to recommend that Mr. Stokes’ petition be re-evaluated and that you remove yourself from any cases involving either Mr. Stokes or Miss McBride.”
“Judge Parker, the department objects more to the association with Miss Hopkins as a prostitute-”
“Honestly, Mrs. Miller – this is Las Vegas. Everyone knows a prostitute. Now, I have made my decision and I haven’t got all day to debate it with you.” He turned to Nick. “You’re free to go, Mr. Stokes – and good luck with your adoption.” He nodded once at Nick, who thanked him as he left the conference room. The stenographer followed him out.
Silence reigned until Elizabeth was sure that Judge Parker was out of earshot. Then she leveled a piercing stare at Jaycie Miller nee Willman, and even Nick had never heard such a chill in her voice as she said, “If there is one. More. Wrinkle. In this process for Mr. Stokes, you will. Be. Exposed. For the fraud. That you are.”
She bristled again. “I’m not a fr-”
“You failed to complete a background check on Mr. Stokes before you produced a letter from the county denying his request. You put it on county letterhead and filed it as an official record. This was based on information you obtained from an unauthorized source. Your communication was, therefore, unauthorized, unlawful, and fraudulent.”
Mrs. Miller said nothing, but glared at Nick and then Elizabeth.
“The county does not take these things lightly, Miss Willman, and as far as this matter is concerned, I am the county. One phone call and you’ll have to move out of state to work again. Do you understand?”
“I understand that I’m being threatened.”
The corner of Elizabeth’s mouth turned up. “Good. Then you do understand. Have a nice day, Mrs. Miller.” Collecting her documents, she closed them up in her briefcase as Nick gathered his folder and rose.
Before leaving the conference room and Jaycie Miller, hopefully forever, behind, Nick couldn’t resist. “Hey, how’s Jack doin’ in prison, by the way?” he asked. “I bet he’s pretty popular. He’s got that clean-cut look those fellas just love.” Smirking arrogantly as Mrs. Miller’s face twisted and turned red this time, he followed Elizabeth.
They left the conference room together and were silent until they reached the main floor of the building, where he turned to her. “That went well,” he said.
“It went very well,” she agreed, her expression and tone all pleasantness again. “Why do you look so tense? You should be skippin’ right now.”
He searched her eyes for a moment. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
She shook her head, amused. “No, you shouldn’t have.” He smiled and lowered his gaze to his shoes for a moment. She touched his chin, and he raised it to look at her again. “‘Re-evaluated’ is not a stamp of approval. It means they start over. It could still be another four to six weeks before the real background check is completed. We still don’t know what she did and she did not complete.”
“But now I know there’s nothing in my way,” he said, his voice low.
“And you have a competent lawyer,” she reminded him, “instead of that indolent hack your father sent you to.”
He chuckled a little and shook his head. “Wasn’t his fault, really. I should have known better – I should’ve known my dad would just ask Billy – my older, more lawyer-ey brother.”
“But you’d think your brother would’ve given you a good referral,” she said.
He shook his head. “No – Billy wants kids but his wife doesn’t. He and I have this . . . competitive kind of relationship. It started when I started playing baseball and I got good fast. Before that I was the sick but smart one and Billy was the athlete, and when I became the smart athlete . . .” Nick trailed off, shaking his head. “Y’know. Ever since then it’s been who can one-up who.”
“So when he found out about Cassie, he remembered his lazy, beer-swilling law school chum and thought – hmm, I should tell Nick about this fella.”
He chuckled again. “Well, I don’t know about all that, but . . . I’m assumin’ something like that went on.”
“Sabotage,” said Elizabeth. “I’m sure he just wanted to annoy you with a lazy attorney, but he should be ashamed as a lawyer and as a brother. But at least Martin’s just a bonehead and didn’t do any damage. Then I’d really have work to do.”
Nick smiled. How much damage would be done by David Martin if he called Billy and talked about what he’d discovered was still undetermined, but at the moment, Nick didn’t care much. “Thank you. For everything.”
Elizabeth smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said, biting her lower lip. “You and Cassie have become very special to me.” He looked away suddenly, and then his eyes rested on her shoulder. “What is it, Nick?” she whispered.
He traced her shoulder and upper arm slowly with his fingertips as he turned his head to meet her eyes again. “I’m trying to get used to this . . .” He gestured towards her, and then himself, and back again. “This thing we got goin’ on. It’s kind of a confusing dynamic.”
She nodded. “It can be,” she agreed.
“You’re my lawyer and you’re essentially a co-worker, and . . . .” He trailed off, not really knowing what was making his brow knit together.
“And you want to do something but you don’t know what?”
That made him smile. “Oh, I know what I want to do,” he replied. “It’s just not appropriate for the lobby of a municipal building.”
Smirking, she replied, “Perhaps distraction is the best strategy here. You do realize we just won?”
It was a good strategy. His heart filled with glee and he nodded. “Yeah – we did, didn’t we?” Captivated by the smile in her green eyes, he admired her for a moment before he continued. “Cassie wanted to know how the hearing went, so I’m going to visit her right after school. But . . . why don’t you let me buy you dinner? We should celebrate.”
She nodded, biting her lip again. “I’d like that.”
His brow pushed together suddenly. “Hey, you kicked me,” he accused, trying to be offended.
“You were gettin’ sassy,” she reminded him, hoisting an eyebrow.
His nostrils flared as he took in a breath, drinking in her loveliness. “God, I want to kiss you.”
She blushed. “Tonight,” she promised. They made arrangements to meet, and he couldn’t help leaning in to brush her cheek with his lips before he left the building.
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(c) 2008 J. H. Thompson
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