He frowns deeply and says, “You’re working for her now?”
“No.”
He gives me a hard stare. “You’re sure about that?”
“Quite sure.”
“Do you never accept payment?”
“Not for these types of cases.”
He says, “In that case I definitely want you on my payroll.”
“That wouldn’t feel right. I’d rather limit my role to go-between. Consider me the messenger.”
“Suit yourself.” He waves his hand through the air, indicating nothing in particular. “You don’t want to get paid? Fine. Don’t get paid. You’re the messenger. Whatever.” He takes a deep breath and says, “So…what’s the message?”
“Riley was cleaning out Mona’s attic. Said she went through each box meticulously, one piece of paper at a time. Said she found two copies of Ethan’s birth certificates.”
I pause to see what impact my words have on him, but his face remains unchanged. He’s looking at me, waiting for me to continue.
“That’s it,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“I asked if she meant to use the plural and she said yes, absolutely.”
“Plural of what?”
“Birth certificates.”
Like a long fuse on a bomb, it takes a moment before my words have the impact Riley anticipated.
Gavin jumps to his feet. Ten expletives jump with him and escape his mouth in such a hurry it sounds like he’s speaking in tongues. He shakes his head and mutters and kicks his coffee table like an angry child. He walks to the floor-to-ceiling window and curses the skyline. Crosses the room and punches the wall.
“Riley Freeman’s a fucking shakedown artist!” he yells. “A blackmailer! You know that now, right?”
I say nothing. Truth is, I like Riley even more than I dislike Gavin and his sleazy kid. Why is that? I wonder. Am I too close to the situation?
Probably.
Yes, Riley is suddenly seeking compensation, but does that make her a blackmailer? Seems to me she’s learning how the system works and has decided to use it to her advantage. I mean, she certainly didn’t ask to be molested. And she’s clearly been sitting on this birth certificate thing for years. Whatever information she has, the idea of using it against Gavin never came up until he offered her cash. Had she planned to use it against Ethan all along, she would have told me about it days ago, when we learned he’s the one who molested her.
But she didn’t.
So I’m not comfortable calling her a blackmailer or shakedown artist. Is she shaking him down right now?
Yes. No doubt about it.
But it’s an after-the-fact shakedown. Like the way she described Parker’s situation. Ethan approached Parker first, then Gavin approached her. Is it possible Gavin’s the one who concocted the story? Could he have told Ethan to spoon-feed the story to Parker, so he could get her to “confess” in a secret recording? And if so, why would Parker go along with it?
The easy answer’s the photos.
Did Ethan send her nude photos of Riley? In his version, it would make sense that he did. In Parker’s version, there would be no point.
It’s pretty confusing.
Much as I hate to admit it, I believe Parker’s lying. I think she was deeply involved in what happened to Riley. Not that I believe a hundred percent of Ethan’s story, either. And now that I think about it, I have no way of knowing which parts of Ethan’s story Parker “admitted” to, when confessing to Gavin.
My gut tells me this is what happened: Parker went searching for Riley and found her passed out in Kelli’s room. She didn’t strip her, or put a sticker on her private area, but I believe she went to the basement, got Ethan’s attention, and took him and Ronnie upstairs. I believe she was semi-drunk, and goofing off, though I doubt she pulled up Riley’s shirt to get the boys all “hot and bothered.” But even if she did, I expect that’s as far as she ever expected it to go, because at that point, her mom arrived. In Ethan’s account, Parker said, “Have fun with Sleeping Beauty” just before leaving. I buy that. The phrase has a ring of truth to it.
To me.
But if she said it, I expect she was just kidding. I seriously doubt she dared them to strip Riley and take photos. I expect she left, assuming the boys would go back to the basement. If they sent her photos, I expect it was because they were drunk, and full of themselves. But I don’t believe she posted them to the internet. More likely she forwarded them to someone, and that person posted them.
I briefly wonder if Riley herself might have posted them, to build the case.
Wouldn’t that be something?
It would, except there’s no way she would ever post nude photos of herself on a porn site. And if you think I’m wrong, consider how intelligent she is. Riley certainly knows how easy it would be for the police to find that type of evidence on her computer or cell phone.
There’s a lot of “he said, she said” to this case, but the one point everyone agrees on is Riley was passed out and inappropriate things happened to her. And personally I’m convinced that Ethan and Ronnie went way beyond what they’re willing to admit. Though I haven’t said anything about it to Riley, I believe they took turns guarding the door.
Which means they took turns being alone with Riley.
Which might mean lots of things.
Was there penetration? If so, what type? Was there sufficient penetration to satisfy the legal definition of rape?
The police might be able to answer that question after running tests on the bedspread.
All these thoughts are going through my head while sitting in Gavin’s office.
What’s he doing in the meantime? Stomping back and forth from one side of his office to the other, with red-faced rage. He’s muttering about his ex-wife, Allison, and her private secretary, Mona, and a dozen other things I can’t make out.
He’s in the midst of a full-blown temper tantrum.
“This is bullshit, Dani! Bullshit! I won’t stand for it! That bitch has no clue who she’s dealing with. No clue, whatsoever. I’ll fry her ass! I can’t wait to see her in court! Turn down a million dollars? From me? For this piece of shit case? Who the fuck does she think she is?”
It goes on like this for another five minutes. He’s got himself so worked up I fear he’ll suffer a stroke. Finally, he takes a seat at his desk and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath and says, “I’m sorry, Dani. Sorry you had to see that. If this were simply a case of her going after me, things would be different. But she’s going after my son, threatening to ruin his life.”
Though I say nothing, I find it amazing he’s able to reframe these events as Riley going after his son, trying to ruin his life. Did Riley invite Ethan to the party? No. Did she let him in the house? No. Did she flirt with him? Tease him? Lead him on in any way? No. Did she threaten anyone with this birth certificate thing or demand a cent before any of this happened? No. Gavin wants me to believe Ethan’s the victim?
Unbelievable!
Ethan stripped an unconscious, underage girl. Molested her. Sexually abused her. Might have raped her.
But he’s the victim?
I look at my handbag, on the floor, by my feet. This is a perfect example of why I shouldn’t be allowed to carry a gun. Because if all this had happened to me, and I heard him talking this way, I’d blow this motherfucker away, right here, right now.
He says, “Do you have children?”
I shake my head, no.
“Well, someday, if you ever do have kids, you’ll understand. You’ll do what you can to protect them. This case is bullshit. She knows it, I know it.”
He looks at me. “Even you know it.”
What’s that, asshole? Even I know it? Is that what you said?
What a condescending prick he is! I kick my handbag further away from my feet, so I’m not tempted to grab my gun.
He says, “She’s got my ass in a sling and she knows it. She’s going after my son. That’s my weakness, and sh
e knows it.”
I’m steaming from all his comments, but like Riley’s duck example, I’m trying not to show it. I’m keeping my true feelings underwater. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy twisting the knife a bit. Check this out.
“Riley says you’ve got twenty-four hours to write the check.”
He looks at me with the eyes and fury of a boiled owl. When he speaks, his words are measured, precise, and seething with anger.
“You know what she is, Dani? A cunt.”
What? What the fuck did he just call her?
I lean over, grab my handbag, start reaching inside for my gun. But before I get a good grip on it, he says, “Two million.”
I stop what I’m doing and cock my head.
“Yeah, you heard me right. Tell the bitch I’ll give her two million. But she’s got to prove she’s got the evidence to blackmail my son, and she’s got to turn it over to me. And the payment is contingent on securing a maximum charge of voyeurism. Nothing more.”
“She wants the money paid as a donation to her personal charity.”
He frowns. “What charity?”
“She said she’d give me the details when you’re ready to write the check. Apparently she’s raising money to help underprivileged children get scholarships to private schools.”
“Well, how fucking nice,” he says, with a sneer. “What a saint! I wish she was my fucking client. That story ought to play pretty damn good in court.”
“You think she’s making it up?”
“I have no doubt she’s registered a charity.”
“I understand she’s raised several thousand dollars so far.”
“Well, la-de-fricken-da. I guess my two million dollar contribution will help her attract matching funds from schools all over the country. Before you know it the bitch will be paying herself a salary to run a hundred million dollar charity. She’ll be set for life.”
“I’ll deliver the message.”
“You do that.”
I stand to leave. He says, “She’ll take it, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t she take it?”
I shrug. “I thought she’d take the first offer.”
“The million?”
“Uh huh.”
He says, “Because, who wouldn’t, right? And now I’ve doubled it.”
He’s right. Of course she’ll take it. Why? Because right now she’s got nothing. And Gavin’s right, her case sucks. The court won’t let her sue for damages because the molesters are juveniles. She’s suffered personal and public humiliation, and the boys who caused all the problems are going to wind up with no worse than a slap on the hand. We’re talking two million dollars! Tax-free, since the money will be deposited in her charity. Of course she’ll take it.
And yet…
I wouldn’t mind making Gavin squirm a little more. So, from some dark, ugly place deep inside me, I allow myself to say, “If you want my honest opinion, I think she’s going to say no.”
“What? “Why?” He’s practically pleading.
“I can’t explain it, Gavin. She seems so sure of herself. Not cocky, exactly, just…totally confident. I’m not sure what you guys are talking about with regard to the birth certificates, but she didn’t bat an eye over the million dollar offer. I’ve never met anyone quite like her at seventeen years of age.”
“Fuck her,” he says. “Fuck her to hell and back.”
“I’ll make the offer,” I say.
I get as far as his office door.
“Three million,” he says. “And not a penny more.”
My legs nearly go out from under me. I try to contain my enthusiasm, but it’s hard. I can’t describe how proud I am that I gave in to my ugly streak. Because in the span of thirty seconds I just got Riley an extra million dollars!
“I’ll tell her!”
“Dani?”
“Yes?”
“Make sure she knows that’s my final offer. Anything more, and I’ll take my chances in court.”
“I’ll tell her.”
“Be firm.”
“Count on it.”
I start to leave again, and he says, “You’d take it, wouldn’t you?”
Would I?
I think about it.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Of course, I’m not Riley Freeman.
“If we keep meeting like this, my mom’s going to think we’re having sex,” Riley says.
“Not funny,” I say. “Sophie’s already giving me shit about it.”
“That aside,” she says, “You look like the cat that swallowed the canary. What happened?”
“Like I said on the phone, I had a very interesting chat with Gavin.”
“Tell me.”
“He went to two million dollars on his own. But I told him I didn’t think you’d take it.”
She laughs. “Good girl! And he responded?”
“He went to three million! Riley, can you just imagine? Three million dollars! In cash!”
“Impressive. Thank you, Dani.”
“I told him he’d have to donate the money to your charity, and said you’d give me the details.”
“All true,” she says. “Except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“This is going to cost him six million, not three.”
“Slap my face!”
“What?”
“Punch my eye. Right here, where it’s nearly swollen shut. That’s the most painful area.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“That way I’ll know this isn’t a dream.”
She laughs. “It’s not a dream, Dani. If Gavin wants this to go away, it’s going to cost him six million.”
“What’s the extra million for?”
“Insulting me with this offer after I was nice enough to let him out for five. Why are you frowning?”
“Because I hate to be out of the loop.”
“What do you mean?”
“What am I missing, Riley? What do you and Gavin know that I don’t?”
She gives me a sly look. “Promise you won’t tell?”
“According to the live birth records Mona had in her possession, which I now have in mine, Ethan Clark was born twice.”
“Fine,” I say, pouting. “Don’t tell me.”
“I just did.”
“Right. Thanks for nothing.”
“Dani? I’m serious.”
“So what are you saying? That Ethan’s the world’s first documented case of reincarnation?”
She laughs. “Indulge me.”
“I thought I was.”
“Story time. Allison Bennett came from the wealthiest, most prestigious family in Memphis, Tennessee. Gavin Clark knew he hit the mother lode when he knocked her up. Fearing the family name could never handle the scandal, they managed to pull together a legendary wedding in the space of ten weeks, which was really pressing it, since Allison was five months pregnant at the alter. After the wedding, she and Gavin went on a prolonged honeymoon, courtesy of Allison’s parents. They were taking six months to travel the world. Over the next six months, family and friends received letters postmarked from the world’s most exotic locations. In truth, Allison wrote all the letters beforehand, gave them to Mona, and Mona traveled to the destinations and sent the letters.”
“That seems like a lot of trouble to go through. The Bennett family couldn’t have been that concerned about people finding out their daughter had sex before marriage. This wasn’t that long ago.”
“High society, Dani. As they say, the rich are different than you and me.”
“No kidding. So what happened?”
“Gavin and Allison were tucked away on the Bennett’s private estate in California. The plan was to have a midwife deliver their baby at the estate. Four months later, Allison’s father would secure a live birth certificate from a small hospital in Nevada, in return for a generous contribution. Ins
tead of going back to Memphis, the young couple would begin their new life together here in Nashville, where Gavin’s marital connections would quickly earn him a full partnership in a local law firm.”
“So what went wrong?”
“Toward the end of Allison’s pregnancy, she became violently ill, and nearly died from dehydration. They had to call an ambulance. She was rushed to the hospital, where, two weeks later, she gave birth to a little boy. She named him Ethan.”
“Then what happened?”
“They stuck to the original plan. Four months later they got the phony birth certificate from Nevada, and they’ve been using that one ever since.”
“How did they hide it from friends and family? The fact they were raising a four-month-old instead of a newborn?”
“They were in a different city, remember? And they kept a low profile that first year. After that, no one questioned their kid looking a few months older than the others his age.”
“Mona told you all this?”
“She did.”
“So let’s see if I understand. Ethan has two birth certificates, four months apart, from two different states.”
“That’s right. And both show a live birth delivered to the same parents.”
“Which is impossible.”
“Exactly.”
“And Ethan and his parents used the newer one, which is phony, because it kept Memphis society from finding out Allison got knocked up before the wedding.”
“That’s correct.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that the older birth certificate, the real one, shows that Ethan is eighteen years old. And was, when he molested you last week.”
“To be precise,” Riley says, “he was eighteen years and nine days old on that fateful night.”
“Which means he can be tried as an adult.”
“By Jove, I think you’ve got it,” she says.
“Which means if your attorney pushes for sexual assault, he could do prison time.”
“That’s stretching it. I mean, we’re still talking about a stupidly rich family, with lots of connections. But it does mean his name could be spread all over the country, and I’d be able to sue him in civil court.”
“What type of award could you get in a civil lawsuit?”