A Hunted Man (The Men of Halfway House) (41 page)

He knew time was not on their side. After dropping Cameron off at the halfway house, Hunter changed his strategy and tried to think outside the box for evidence. He set a personal goal of seventy-two hours to find whatever he could get to nail Mackler's ass to the wall.

He found it in twenty-four.

"Do you honestly think I'm going to sit here like a moron and talk about anything? That's for the idiots that end up in my courtroom. I've exercised my right to an attorney," Mackler said. "He should be here any minute and we'll continue after he arrives."

"Very well," Aidan said as he closed the file then exited the room. So far, everything had played out the way they had hoped. The warrant had been served for Mackler's home and office and nothing had been found. They had arrested Mackler and provided a small bit of information, which led to Mackler immediately contacting his attorney.

"So far so good," Aidan said as he entered the observation room. "He probably thinks we have nothing or he thinks we'll get nowhere now that he's lawyered up."

"Good," Hunter said as he continued to stare with his arms crossed. "I want that cocky son of bitch to fucking piss in his pants when he realizes just how fucked he is."

"Are you sure we can use it?"

"In this case, yes," Hunter said confidently.

"Lydia's not going to get burned here is she?"

"Nope. The most incriminating documents didn't come from her. I've got to play the other stuff right for it to hit its mark."

"Are you sure we can't just use Cam's father's statement? That bastard said enough about Mackler to do some damage."

"His credibility is shit. Any lawyer can rip him apart in two seconds flat. We need something from a credible source that sticks."

"I hope you know what you're doing because, otherwise, we can't nail that Rick guy. That arrogant son of a bitch is in custody right now on breaking and entering and attempted murder of you and Cam. That's not enough. I want that fucker to rot in prison and pray for a quick death every time he wakes up in his roach-infested cot. I need the drug and conspiracy charge to stick. I know it's part of your plan, but I hate that this fucker's lawyered up."

Hunter's jaw muscles flexed. "I know. He's full of himself and his ego won't let his attorney take control. He's bluffing. I'm just going to call his bluff. Don't worry, I'll set it up all nice and pretty and make you look like a king."

"Aw, you're so thoughtful."

"I try," he said, playing along with Aidan but still focused on the man on the opposite side of the glass. His mind raced through the various arguments the judge would present and how he would handle his responses. His brain had shifted into courtroom gear and he was ready to slam Mackler and any excuse he would present in his defense. Mackler was a challenge, but the thought of getting this guy to turn and possibly free Cam's name in the process sharpened his focus. "Just make sure you get what you need to nail these fuckers and clear Cam's name. I also want to make sure Peter can come back with his career intact."

"You set it up and I'll go in for the kill."

Hunter nodded. His jaw twitched wildly as he clenched his teeth to try and bite down the anger waiting to be unleashed. He needed to keep his temper at bay and put on his best poker face, now more than ever. He wanted this son of a bitch to suffer, to know firsthand what Cameron had dealt with during his sentence. All through their weekend together, all Hunter could think about was spending each waking day of the rest of his life with Cam just as they had done during those precious few weekend hours. It didn't matter what they did, their time together had become a basic need to his existence. He craved waking with Cam pressed against him, the sound of his voice, his laughter, the twitch of the muscles under his touch, the quiet and subtle requests for closeness.

The nightmare had begun with
this
man. The smug bastard on the other side of this glass had managed to create a barrier between him and Cam that he still had not been able to break through. He wanted to say the words,
needed
to say them, but he could see the plea in Cam's eyes to not push. The fear that something would happen to Hunter haunted Cam. That same fear Hunter had seen in Cameron's eyes the day of the attack when he thought the gunshot had hit its mark.

Hunter swore he would do everything in his power to wipe away that memory for Cam. His mission was to finally break that iron wall Cam had taken a decade to build—to convince Cam to let him in and allow himself to be loved, completely, without fear.

This son of a bitch behind the glass had stolen Cam's sense of security and had taken Hunter's freedom to completely and totally enjoy the love he had been blessed with. He wanted to nail the bastard to the wall.

Mackler's attorney entered the interrogation room.

"It's showtime," Hunter said through gritted teeth as he exited the observation room with Aidan.

"I have a recorded conversation—"

"Which obviously is inadmissible in court. Quite frankly Mr. Donovan, I'm rather surprised you'd attempt that with me. That's illegal as you know." Mackler huffed a laugh then looked pointedly at Aidan then back to Hunter. "You two should know better."

"Mackler—"

"Show a little respect, Mr. Donovan," the judge said.

"I'm not in your courtroom, and I am using your name rather than a more appropriate term to address you in this instance in order to present
myself
in a professional manner. So, I suggest you listen very carefully before you attempt to interrupt me again."

Mackler looked at Hunter hesitantly as if trying to decipher his next move. Hunter imagined Mackler knew him well enough to know when, and if, to call his bluff. Mackler cocked his head to the side as a sign to proceed.

"I have a recording," Hunter repeated, pausing to wait for another interruption, then continued when none came, "of you and the mayor having a discussion."

"And that was a private conversation," Mackler responded.

"My client is not admitting to having said conversation," Saul Miles, Mackler's attorney, immediately interjected. "What was discussed during this alleged communication?"

Hunter leaned back in his chair to establish a casual air to the exchange. "Mackler chatted with the mayor about a party and who would be attending. Big wig party for an upcoming political candidate. The mayor offered up a county vehicle to escort the political candidate, his staff, and family to the event."

Mackler burst into laughter. "Sounds like you've got Frank's ass in the sling for misappropriation of funds, not mine. Listen, Mr. Donovan, I don't have time to waste—"

"I wasn't finished," Hunter said, crossing his arms, maintaining the casualness of his demeanor.

Mackler sat back in his chair and waited.

"So it got me thinking about possibly getting
you
doing something casual, something most people wouldn't figure you'd do or might overlook."

Mackler's composure subtly shifted.

"See, I know certain government officials are granted credit cards for official use only and any sort of deviation of this is subject to disciplinary action."

"I don't have a government issued credit card, Mr. Donovan. You're reaching," Mackler responded confidently.

"No,
you
don't," Hunter confirmed. "But your wife did for many years."

Mackler paled and his attorney immediately looked in his direction. "Don't say a word." Mr. Miles then turned his focus to Hunter. "Whatever the ex-Mrs. Mackler did with her credit card was her decision."

Hunter laughed. "I already have a sworn statement from her where she provides extensive details regarding
Mr.
Mackler's purchases, and I even have signatures on receipts to confirm they were made by
Mr.
Mackler."

"The card was in her name," Mackler said before he quieted under the glare of his attorney.

"Excellent point, the problem is, your forgery of her signature doesn't match her actual signature but it's a perfect match for your writing according to the handwriting specialist who I've had review the numerous receipts we found archived in the system."

"That's one opinion," Mackler's attorney responded.

"Three actually, I wanted to be sure," Hunter responded in the same tone. "It's rather interesting the things you've bought when you think no one's looking at you."

"Mr. Donovan, Mr. Mackler and his ex-wife have been divorced for some time. Regardless of whatever misappropriation of funds may have occurred, there are statutes of limitations involved which I'm sure have exceeded their timetable since they've been divorced now for many years."

Hunter leaned forward. "That's the funny thing. Most of the charges would fall into that category except one thing."

"What's that?" the attorney asked while Mackler remained silent.

"The gun that was used ten years ago at Mr. Mackler's home, which resulted in a death."

Hunter waited for a reaction from Mackler, but he remained seated, unresponsive.

"Here's what I find interesting," Hunter said sardonically. "You buy a gun, illegally, using your wife's federal job credit card with a forged signature. You then put that gun in
your
name. You somehow manage to convince a judge to charge your son's boyfriend with manslaughter even though that same weapon in
your
name was used in
your
house. To add insult to injury, you further get him accused of a ridiculous list of crimes including a drug violation. Now, that little cocktail of charges throws your statute of limitations out the window. So you're looking at several years for that alone and I'm sure I can find a few more things to throw in there that would give you a good feel for what you did to Cameron Pierce's life."

"What do you want, Mr. Donovan?" Mackler asked in an icy tone.

Hunter leaned in and rested his forearms on the table. "I didn't say I was finished."

The attorney straightened. "What else is there?"

"As I said before, I have a recorded conversation."

Mackler rolled his eyes. "Which you already said was Frank talking about—"

"Oh, not that one. That was just another interesting call that led into the discussion about the misappropriation of funds and what got me to look into that where you were concerned."

"What recording, Mr. Donovan?" Mackler asked.

"The one where you are having a discussion with the mayor about making sure Cameron doesn't get out of prison," Hunter finished with a sneer.

"Any such conversation would require all-party consent in order for it to be admissible in a Florida court. As an attorney, Mr. Donovan, you should know that," Mackler said with a half smile.

"The statute only covers confidential and private conversations."

"Any conversation I've had with the mayor is private, and I can assure you I did not consent to the recording of any said conversation."

"Your discussion was held during a lunch break in the outside patio of a restaurant in Coconut Grove, paid with the mayor's credit card I'd like to add. The privacy analysis fails for the statute in this case so it no longer applies since anyone out in that patio could have heard your conversation."

"No one was there!" Mackler yelled as he rose from his seat, knocking his chair back on the floor.

"Be quiet and sit down," Mackler's attorney said.

"It doesn't matter if anyone was there or not, the location and circumstance are the relevant factors in the assessment. I would expect a judge of your stature to know such technicalities in the law."

"What the fuck do you want, Hunter?" Mackler asked, picking up the chair from the floor and taking his seat again.

"You need to keep quiet," Mr. Miles said as he placed his hand on Mackler's forearm.

Mackler raised his arm abruptly, pushing his attorney's hand off. "And you need to just shut the hell up like you've been doing all this time. Get the hell out of here."

"Are you waiving your right—"

Mackler pressed his index fingers to his temples. "If someone else throws the law in my face again, I'm going to plead temporary insanity and won't be responsible for my actions."

"I think your services are no longer needed here, Mr. Miles," Hunter said with a pointed look to the attorney.

Mackler exhaled once he was left in the room alone with Aidan and Hunter. "What do you want and what will I get in return?"

"You need to make a choice."

Mackler laughed mournfully. "Something tells me my options are going to be varying degrees of misery."

Hunter gave him a wry smile. "You can choose to be charged with misappropriation of government funds, embezzlement—"

"Or?" Mackler interrupted.

"Or," Hunter said casually, "you provide us with information to take down the drug network. Not some bullshit hearsay or generalizations. I want names, addresses, dates, times, everything. You are not the kind of man to work with someone on something like this unless you've got some security. So don't attempt to feed us a line of crap about how you don't know what's going on and aren't sure who is doing what."

Mackler laughed. "Seems you know me relatively well, Mr. Donovan."

"I'm sure you know I've got enough to put you away for the rest of your life. The minimum I'm willing to do is ten years and that's not up for discussion."

"Tit for tat. I'm assuming this is why you mentioned Cameron's name earlier," Mackler said sarcastically.

"Exactly. I should add more but I'm willing to negotiate if, and only if, you provide enough information that Aidan deems relevant and useful to his case. If not, the deal is off the table and you are on the hook for every fucking thing I can possible nail you on. I don't give a shit how small a detail it is. Understand?"

Mackler sighed then nodded. "You're ruining me, you know that? Do you have any idea how long it took me to build this nest egg of mine? For us to build the network of contacts? I was working carefully on planning my retirement and making sure I didn't have to worry about living on a judge's salary. And now, one little son of a bitch has torn it all to shreds," he finished, rubbing his face in obvious frustration.