Dick by Law (25 page)

Melville, Pennsylvania

Three Months A
fter Bermuda

The late summer sun glinted off t
he giant wrought-iron gates
at the entrance to the estate. A white dove perched atop them, smack in the middle, gazing down at Simon's car.

Security cameras on pilasters to either side took in the view of Simon and his vehicle. There was a loud click as the lock on the gates disengaged. Then, the dove took flight in a flurry of white feathers as the gates
swung open. Simon hesitated, then drove through
, wondering what awaited him.

All he knew from the invitation
he'd received
was that he was heading for some kind of dedication. It was set for 1:00 PM at the mansion of
the man who'd helped
set
Simon's rise and fall
in motion
. The man who'd made it all possible.

Judge Jonah Bartlebaugh.
He was one of the few people who could
lure
Simon out of the self-imposed
exile
he'd been in since Bermuda.
Even
after everything that had happened,
Simon
still owed Bartlebaugh
for officially declaring Horne Shaw a dick.

Even so, Simon had no intention of sticking around any longer than he absolutely had to. Not with
his never-ending post-Bermuda depression stronger than ever.

Even after three months
back home in Melville, PA
, h
e was still
shell-shocked
from
his run-in
w
ith General Mobai and Poppa Free
.
He didn't feel like himself anymore
, and he'd closed off the pieces of his old life one by one.
He'd shut down In¢entive$
almost totally, and the Lone Appraiser was in retirement. He hadn't even set foot on a Cowboy Action Shooting range since before Bermuda.

He couldn't get over what
had happened to
Horne Shaw
. He still
felt
guilty, as if
there was something he could have done to save his life.

The memory of Shaw's death continued to haunt
him by day and by night. The slightest thought of it
even
now, as he drove through
Judge
Bartlebaugh's estate, brought the nightmare back to life in his mind's eye. He felt the
machete
cut through Shaw's
throat all over again, felt Shaw's blood gush over him in a torrent.

As the memory
threatened to overwhelm
him,
Simon shook his head hard and scattered
it
.
Taking a deep breath, he f
ocused his attention on the scenery
sliding past
to distract him from the
visions
that kept welling up
inside.

The
car
rolled
uphill
through
rows
of tall
oaks
,
one on either side of the road,
then emerged
in a wide-open space.
Vast lawns spread o
ut
all around
, decorated with fountains and statues and gardens of colorful flowers
. Beyond the lawns
, at the top of the hill,
sprawled a mansion
that looked as big as a shopping mall.

Simon gaped in amazement.
He'd never been past the gates
of Bartlebaugh's
estate before; he'd never realized the grounds
were
so huge.
He'd known
Judge
Bartlebaugh was rich, but
this
...this was
rich
.

Simon drove past tennis courts on one side of the road, then
stables and a corral on the other. He saw
topiary gardens with hedges shaped like storybook characters and dinosaurs. Stately swans floated over the glassy surface of a pond complete with
a
private
dock and rowboat.
The smell of new-mown grass
flowed through the open windows of Simon's car, mingling
with the fragrance of hundreds of flowers.

The place was lik
e something out of a movie. As Simon drew closer to the
huge
mansion at the heart of it, he felt like he was on his way to visit God. Like he was on his way to judgment, which he supposed was the way
Judge
Bartlebaugh
probably
wanted
people to feel.

After crossing a whitewashed bridge over a glittering stream,
Simon pulled up in front of the mansion. A row of cars was lined up
along the side of the drive
, including two TV news vans
; he rolled past them
and parked at the far end.

Getting out of his car,
Simon
walked toward the
mansion's front door. He
gaz
ed
up at the lofty columns around the enormous front portico as he passed between them. He
look
ed down at the cobblestones under his feet, too, which were
suffused with gold
dust
and
laid
out
in
perfect
scalloped patterns
.
Everything looked brand new
or freshly scrubbed
.

C
limb
ing
the
wedding cake of
white
marble steps
,
Simon
reached for the brass doorbell. Before he could press the button, the
huge
front door
s
of the mansion flew open
, making him jump
.

And there he was. Judge Bartlebaugh in the flesh, in a white tuxedo
, looking delighted.

"Mr. Fluff-and-Fold!" Without hesitation,
Judge
Bartlebaugh strode forward and threw his arms around Simon. "So glad you could make it!"

"Hello, Judge."
The hug made Simon feel awkward
.
Just s
eeing
Judge
Bartlebaugh
made him feel weird
. The lawsuit and everything else that had happened before Bermuda seemed like it had taken place in another lifetime, another universe.

Judge
Bartlebaugh stepped back and patted his
neatly trimmed
silver
beard and fringe of hair.
He wore an enormous pinky ring on the little finger of each han
d, one with an oval black stone, the other with a milk-white one.
"You look well, all things considered."

"Thanks," said Simon. "You too, Your Honor."

Judge
Bartlebaugh laughed
; Simon could see he had a hunk of gum in his mouth, like always.
"No need to stand on ceremony, Simon.
After all,
we're about to become partners
."
Grinning, he clapped Simon on the shoulder.

"Partners?" said Simon.

"Depending on how things work out."
Judge
Bartlebaugh ushered him into the house. "Let's
see how it goes, shall we?"

Frowning, Simon walked through and looked around. The entryway was vast and opulent, complete with
rose
marble floor,
a
giant
crystal
chandelier
that looked like it belonged in an opera house
, and a ceiling that had to be at least thirty feet
high
.
Everything sparkled and gleamed as if it had been recently polished.
There were giant arrangements of red roses on long tables along the walls, giving off enough fragrance to fill the whole chamber.

Judge Bartlebaugh
pulled
the door
s shut
. "I guess you've heard the bad news by now."

"Bad news?" Simon tensed. The mess in Bermuda had been over for three months now, and he still kept expecting
repercussions
. He still couldn't escape the fear that the authorities would change their minds about exonerating him,
and he
would have
to go to jail
for Horne's murder
after all.

Judge
Bartlebaugh cracked his gum.
The crack echoed like a gunshot in the vast entryway.
"My decision on your lawsuit was overturned on appeal."

"Oh." Simon relaxed.

"It seems you can't legally declare someone a dick anymore," said
Judge
Bartlebaugh. "At least until we get another free-thinking judge to rule for the plaintiff on one of the five-hundred-some copycat lawsuits now in the system."
He clapped his hands and bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet, looking pleased with himself.

Simon shrugged. "Easy come, easy go."

Judge
Bartlebaugh snorted. "Know what? I've half a mind to sue the judge who overturned me for being a
jackass
."

"I'd like to see that." Simon smiled.

"
Jackass
," muttered
Judge
Bartlebaugh, and then he turned and marched down a hallway. "Follow me."

Judge
Bartlebaugh led Simon down a long hallway with a sky-high ceiling, glittering chandeliers, and a red carpet.
Enormous paintings and tapestries covered the walls, depicting battles and jousts and miracles from medieval times.
Vases and sculptures and plaster busts occupie
d tables, shelves, and niches like pieces on display in a museum
. The smell of roses gave way to something spicier, like cinnamon potpourri
, perhaps from the dried flowers in glass bowls on some of the tables.

"So what's this about being your partner?" said Simon.

"
I'm
starting a new venture
.
"
Judge Bartlebaugh
cracked his gum
. "I thought you might be interested."

"What kind of new venture?"

"
It's right up your alley
." Judge Bartlebaugh stopped at
a set of
giant double doors at the end of the corridor. They were as high as the ceiling, inlaid with gold and silver in elaborate designs.
"
How would you like
to play hero again
?
"

Before Simon could
answer
, Judge Bartlebaugh heaved the doors open.

Suddenly,
Simon found himself staring at a crowd in a vast ballroom
--hundreds of people, all dressed
in formal attire
.
Everyone
started applauding and cheering at once
,
just as Simon realized he recognized some of them
.

"This way, please." Judge Bartlebaugh pulled Simon
by his elbow
through the doorway. "Don't keep everyone waiting."

As Simon drifted into the ballroom,
camera flashes went off in all directions. T
hrough the
spots in his eyes from the
flashes,
he saw
that
Josie and
Chip and Ankha
were standing up front, grinning and clapping
. Quinn and Buck Brooklyn
were there
, too.
So was
Ishi
, looking ravishing in a glittering white floor-length gown
.

So what the hell was going on here, anyway? Some kind of surprise party? An intervention, maybe?

Judge Bartlebaugh
raised his arms overhead and
spoke
when the cheering had quieted
. "I guess you all know who
this
is.
He's the inspiration for our little project. And its
namesake
, if he'll give us his blessing."

Namesake?
More c
amera flashes went off, making
Simon
blink and squint. Bright lights
flared up and
fixed on him from two different directions,
blaz
ing from atop
video cameras
shouldered by TV news reporters.

Judge Bartlebaugh
turned to
Simon
and spread his arms wide
. "How would you like a chance to continue your good work
, my friend? To make a
difference
in a world of
dicks
?"