Absolute Power (Southern Justice #1 (33 page)

“We’re ready for the tasting to begin.”

I smiled kindly in her direction and took one last look as the sun made its final bow, marking the end of another fine performance by Mother Nature.

Magnolia Vineyards, in my opinion, did not live up to the awards that lined the display cases inside the front entrance. Not that I was a wine expert by any means, but I knew what I liked and what I didn’t. Maybe my dislike was tainted by Lainie’s choice in conversations, one of which caused Kitty to sit wide-eyed, in a state of shock.

The birthday diva felt it was her duty to interrogate poor Kitty on her sexual knowledge and experience. I took this as our cue to leave; a grateful Kitty thanking me with her innocent eyes.

Hope offered to stay with a now passed out Lainie, but as soon as I shut off the car engine, Lainie woke up and seemed sober, but was definitely ready for bed. Still, I would’ve felt so much better if I kept her with me, to monitor for any complications.

Kitty and Hope lived on the same block and since both were sober, climbed into Kitty’s VW and bid Lainie and I goodnight. While we were waiting on the elevator, Mrs. Pettigrew and her friend from the floor above us had been out walking their dogs.

I hid my smile at the fib Dylan had told me of Mrs. Pettigrew being involved with the Mafia. She was a sweet old lady who had welcomed me to the building with open arms and a coffee cake.

“Bernadette, I heard it from the father himself. That harlot is trying to break up Sean’s happy marriage to his sweet new bride.”

Both women were wearing matching tracksuits with reflective material across the chest. Mrs. Pettigrew was in her signature color of purple and the lady, Bernadette, in hot pink.

“Well, who could blame her, he is a doctor after all. And the family is rolling in money.”

“Still, I’ll be watching her like a hawk. She will have picked the right one if she thinks she can get my man into her bed.”

I nearly lost it, watching the older lady trying to talk like the younger generation. My resolve would have been gone if she would have added the snap and head swivel.

“Oh, I don’t think you or Myles have anything to worry about. I saw her having lunch with old man Morgan’s son, the one who is a cop.”

Lainie’s and my eyes locked. It was clear they were talking about me. I pushed Lainie to the far side of the elevator bank; the small area was barely two feet wide and would hide us both if we were careful.

“Listen, you and I were both younger once. Are you going to try to convince me you had only one guy at a time on the string?”

“Well, no.”

“Exactly!” Mrs. Pettigrew shouted. “Mark my words; that Stuart girl is playing with fire, breaking up a marriage with a baby on the way, while weaseling her way into the Morgan fortune.”

I closed my eyes, the overwhelming feeling of nausea rising in my throat. How could Sean speak such lies about me? He was the one who led me on and tried to take me to bed.

We waited until the Poodle twins, Lainie’s words not mine, went upstairs.

“Do you believe this?” She questioned as she pressed the elevator button. “That little snake, lying to his family about you.”

As we walked closer to my door, my anger over the situation built. What would happen if Priscilla got wind of this story? Would she forbid Dylan from seeing, as Mrs. Pettigrew defined, a harlot?

I had enough skeletons in my closet not to have a big H painted on my scrub top. I had to confront the man who was pushing his guilt onto an innocent party.

“Hey, Shayla.” I made a call to the ER, wanting to check to see who was working tonight. “It’s Claire. Can you tell me who the doc is tonight?”

Shayla had been taking more night shifts, after deciding to go back to school to become a Physician’s Assistant. She had become very focused with her new education goal and had been turning down dates left and right. Seemed men found librarian Shayla more attractive than slut Shayla, if that were even possible.

“Well, hey, Claire. How was the vineyard?”

Shayla and I had become closer. I found that with her new image came a girl in whom I could find a friend. Gone was her snarky bite and holier than thou attitude. What was left was a genuine person with a big, loving heart. Georgia had helped me to realize the change she was going through had caused her to face some realities, which were not always in her favor; the biggest, Georgia suspected, was Dylan.
“You can’t make someone feel something they don’t,”
she’d told me sadly. Looking at the situation from a new perspective, I agreed with Georgia, forgiving the harsh words Shayla used and decided to be her friend instead.

“It was
interesting
.”

“Uh-oh, tell me over coffee sometime.” She joked. “Dr. O’Leary is here and so is the new hire, Dr. Miller.”

I knew nothing of Dr. Miller; hopefully he would make a good witness and tell the rest of the doctors what he heard.

“Thanks, Shayla. Stick around tonight, I may need you.” I didn’t wait for her to question me. I ended the call and tossed my phone on my sofa.

“Well, the fucker is working.” I dropped my body onto the cushions of my couch and let my head fall back into the pillows, feeling the weight of the situation smothering me.

“What are you thinking?” Lainie sat on my wooden coffee table, facing me at eye level.

“Well, the good girl in me says to leave it alone and let his lies catch up to him,” I admitted, looking at the wall behind her.

“But?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side.

“The mountain girl in me wants to make him pay for what he did.” My fist clenched as I thought of pouring honey all over his naked body and sitting him on an ant pile or tying him to a tree with goat’s blood covering him and letting the wolves tear him apart.

“How about you give into the mountain girl, just a little.” Using her index finger and thumb to measure. “Let her serve justice which will do the most good.”

I would do nothing physical to him, nothing to cause him harm. Just let the entire floor know of the falsity he was pushing. There were enough wagging tongues around to spread the story fast. Maybe even catch the whole thing on a cell phone and spread it across the Internet, letting the world know the kind of person he was.

Not waiting another second, I jumped to my feet as I tore out of the door. “Don’t wait up! I have a baby gift to give Dr. O’Leary,” I called, not caring about the crack in Mrs. Pettigrew’s door, hoping she would have some superpower of mind reading and know the truth in the bullshit story she’d just told.

Anger, which should have boiled over, turned to fat tears and grew deep in my belly instead. I bypassed the employee parking, my tires protesting the sharp curve I took and headed for Dr. Gillman’s private slot. I couldn’t tell you if I locked my car or if I even managed to shut the door. I was on a mission to shut down the rumors created by a low down cheat.

Shayla stood behind the nurses’ desk, phone raised to her ear, pointing in the direction of the on-call room. She knew who I was looking for, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she knew the reason for my middle of the night visit.

“Sean O’Leary! Get your lying ass out here and face me!” I shouted as I continued down the hall; the on-call room door wide open. As I entered the room, he was sitting on one of the couches, his cell phone in hand. I heard the sweet voice of a female saying something in what I assumed was Celtic.

“My love,” He tried to interrupt, holding a finger up in my direction, his eyes begging me to be quiet.

“Fuck that! Megan, if that’s you, you need to hear this shit, too.”

Show me a hero, and I’ll write you a tragedy.

~Scott Fitzgerald

“S
o, where is your girl today?” Austin teased, looking behind me as if I was hiding Claire back there. “Cause if she were my girl…” He added, raising his eyelids in a disbelieving manner.

“Finish that statement and I’ll kick your scrawny ass.”

Austin held up his hands in surrender; his face telling me he was far from done and biding his time for the punch line. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here, I wanted to talk with you about something.” He turned around in his massive chair, computer screens alive with activity. His gamble in starting his own business had been a good one; lots of security firms desired the level of information he was able to obtain. Now he was looking for another computer geek, someone he could trust to help him run this place.

“The last time you stopped by, you and Carson told me about this shit bag, Frances Greyson.” He typed away on his keyboard, his fingers becoming a blur. “Well, I have looked at his mug shot and for some reason, though I can’t figure out how, I know him.”

I sat in an empty chair, examining the haggard face of Greyson from his most recent incarceration. The more I looked, the more I agreed with Austin, he did indeed look familiar.

“So, I went off a hunch, his lack of alias and his sudden criminal history.” He pulled up the same rap sheet as before. “When nothing new turned up, I went digging in other places.” He leaned back in his chair, a tiny remote held in his left hand. “Frances Cashmere Greyson, now why wouldn’t a pussy assed name like that have an alias?” Austin’s eyes baited me, testing my detective skills.

“So I tapped into the security system over at County, listened to a few conversations and learned a couple of things.” He pointed to the remote to the screen. “One, Frances
does
have an alias. Take a closer look at his name.”

Austin blurred the first and last name, and then part of the middle. Leaving only
Cash
in focus.

“He had a pretty heated conversation with a few of his fellow inmates, something to do with a nurse who had called him out.” Austin pressed the remote and the blank screen came to life. In seconds, three men were standing in a line waiting to be served lunch. He was correct, several heated words were exchanged. Austin fast-forwarded the tape to a moment where Cash was making a phone call. His words were loud and clear as he spoke into the handset. “Ginny, you find out where the bitch lives, I need to pay her a visit. She is gonna regret ever opening her cunt mouth.”

Austin froze the tape. “Hearing him say Ginny confirmed who I suspected.” More pages opened as the lists of his crimes grew. “Having his alias opened a floodgate of information.”

My head was spinning, as I tried desperately to process everything I’d witnessed. Frances Greyson, career criminal, was the fat motherfucker we all knew as Cash, the same asshole who tried to hurt my little brother. Now the fat fuck was trying to hurt my Claire. I didn’t fucking think so.

“When I went back and pulled the records from the State, I found Cash and Ginny had aged out of the system, they never found homes.”

“What about Ginny? Is she the girl from the stolen convertible?” I pulled up the grainy photo Carson had sent over to me, it seemed impossible to tell.

“This is the last photo of Virginia Greyson I’ve been able to locate.” The screen filled with the photo of an extremely skinny girl with dark hair and buckteeth. Her eyes were so sad looking and dark circles made her appear almost dead. The girl from the convertible had much lighter hair, not that it mattered much; hair could be colored in a matter of minutes.

“Granddaddy would say she could eat corn through a picket fence.” He was right; he would have said it, not to be mean, just stating the truth in his own special way.

“Not something you can count on, surgery these days fixes everything.” He nodded his head in agreement.

“I’m guessing the nurse in question is Claire,” Austin mused.

I stood up, the news fueling the fire, which had been smoldering since the end of the trial. Cash was a crazy motherfucker if he thought he could lay one finger on Claire. In fact, he would be lucky if the next time I saw him, he would live to see another day.

“Oh, and Dylan?” I turned my attention back to him. “His parole officer hasn’t heard from him since his release.”