Absolute Power (Southern Justice #1 (38 page)

“Just hurry up, they’re about to do an update.”

Standing in what looked to be one of the parking lots adjacent to the Bridge was a female reporter. “Are you watching?” Lainie questioned as I turned up the volume.

“Yes, now hush.”

“If you’re just now joining us. We are here at Memorial Park on the South end of the Bridge, where early this morning the body of a suspected jumper was pulled from the marsh along the bank of the river. As some of you may recall, a report of a possible jumper was phoned into authorities from an unidentified caller. Coast Guard and River Patrol authorities responded, but found no body floating in the water. Divers were called in yesterday when a fisherman reported what he thought was blood on the rocks. Investigators confirmed the evidence they collected from the area around the support pillars was indeed human blood.”

The screen flashed to a pre-recorded segment where several boats were circling one of the support pillars. The camera panned out and the bridge was full of red and blue lights. This had to be where the cops were headed last night when they passed us.

“Veronica, I believe we have a positive identification on the blood found on the rocks as belonging to a…Frances Greyson.,” said the suited man who sat behind the anchor desk. His tanned face and white smile beamed into the camera with the same expression he would use to tell you about the spelling bee which was won by a word we have never heard of.

“That is correct, Gavin. Police released the name of the possible victim in hopes one of his relatives could be located and his whereabouts confirmed. Mr. Greyson, who has a very lengthy criminal history, was recently released from jail, but failed to report to his probation officer.”

The camera panned back to the girl in the park, her hand going up to her ear. She looked to be listening to something as her head bobbed up and down quickly.

“Gavin, I’m sorry to interrupt, but the medical examiner has just confirmed the body found early this morning is indeed that of Frances Greyson.”

I tuned out the remainder of what she had to say, disbelief paralyzing me when I stood. He’s dead. The man who’d caused so much pain to my best friend is dead. He couldn’t hurt her, or any other woman, ever again.

“Claire, the son of a bitch is dead.” There were tears in her voice, of sadness, joy, and pain, all of the above I am sure.

“Yes, he is,” I responded, my emotions still on hold. After assuring her we would get together later in the week, I hung up the phone and switched off the television, the reporter still reciting the same words over and over. It was all too much, too strange and made no sense. Frances Greyson left his jail cell a free man. He had just won his case and was able to return to the life he’d had before. According to reports, the night before last, after an altercation with me, he’d decided to end his life by jumping from a bridge.

What the hell was I missing? What could have possibly happened in the time he’d left me and spent a night in jail, to cause him to walk over a mile uphill in the middle of the night just to jump to his death?

The bigger question…did I really want to know the answer?

A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth can gets its pants on.

-Winston Churchill

“Y
ou look good, Dylan. Happy.”

Carson had stopped by the shop after his shift, bringing a six pack and an inquisitive mind with him.

“That’s because I am happy,” I replied as I continued to work on the bike in front of me. I turned to the side, flashing him a smile as I continued to turn my wrench.

“I had dinner with Claire the other night.”

A small pang of jealousy hit me in the chest. I hadn’t been able to see her much, as she’d picked up an extra shift at the hospital.

“She said you two were getting to know one another.”

I knew what the cocky fucker wanted. I tossed the wrench on the lift, wiping my hands on the rag from my back pocket. “I told you, Claire is different. No, I haven’t tried anything, including kiss her.”

Carson started to cough and spit his beer onto the concrete floor. “Are you serious?” His face turned red from the liquid going down his windpipe. “You don’t fucking kiss.” He wheezed, pounding on the center of his chest as he tried to recover.

I leaned back against the lift, a fresh beer to my lips. I relaxed into the feel of the cold liquid flowing down my throat, the carbonation stinging slightly as it traveled to my stomach, “I know, but I want to,” I admitted.

“And that scares you?”

I looked at him, seeing the true concern he has not only for me, but for Claire as well. “No, not really. It’s the thought of her waking up one day and realizing she can do so much better than my sorry ass that scares me.”

Carson placed his beer on the bench and held out his left hand, a smile that would warm a dead witch’s heart on his face. “It’s about time.”

A loud roar of the roll up door from behind me effectively shut down the oh so comfortable conversation that was about to continue. Austin stood in the center of the bay door, his car parked in the drive behind him. After moving back home, he’d traded his suits for jeans and t-shirts. “Hey fuck nuts,” he said as he passed through the opening, turning back and pulling the door back down.

“You know, we have a perfectly good front door that is a hell of a lot quieter.” I tossed the dirty towel at him, missing by a mile.

“I do, but I like to make a grand entrance.” He picked up my stray towel, tossing it back to me and hit me in the side of my face.

Austin made an appearance nearly every evening. We’d sit back, have a few beers and he would join in helping me repair one of the bikes.

“Mr. Carson, how are you this evening?” He asked as he reached for a cold bottle.

“Actually, I’m glad you’re here, I have a few questions I need to ask.”

Austin twisted the cap off his beer, took a look around for an empty chair, and then pulled it closer to where Carson is sitting. “What’s up, boss?” he poses, taking a long drink from the bottle.

“Well actually, its for the both of you.” Nodding his head in both of our directions. Tossing the rag to the side, I took my beer and grabbed a seat of my own.

“Well, I think pretty much everyone in town has heard the news about the jumper. I was out with my wife and your girl the night it happened.” He looked at me, his face unreadable.

“Georgia doesn’t like for me to bring shit home these days, I think she is tired of the bad news constantly flowing in the house. Anyway, once Georgia went to bed, I made some calls.” His attention was in Austin’s direction.

“This Greyson guy wasn’t the first one to jump from the side of that damn Bridge. But he was the first one who didn’t have a history of depression.” Carson’s calm features revealed nothing.

“So I asked myself; why would a man like Cash, a man who’d just completed a stretch in jail, a man who was last seen getting picked up in a beautiful car, suddenly decide to end it all?” Standing up, he tossed his empty beer bottle into the trash and retrieved another. “Something didn’t add up.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“So I went to work, read the reports…” His forearms rested on his thighs, his attention moving back and forth between us. “…and I started digging around. I found it interesting our IT people were talking about a power surge about three in the morning, causing the system to reboot and making every camera on the bridge shut off for three minutes around the time the medical examiner estimates Cash took his last breath. So I pulled up the weather report, saw how it was a clear night, so no chance of lightning. So I thought, maybe an accident on the bridge could have caused the disruption, but there were no reports of any cars on the bridge for a full fifteen minutes. Then I thought, who would have the technology to pull something like this off? But, according to the IT folks, their security system is too advanced for that. It’s some fancy-shmancy product from a company out of New York, Adams…something.” A tiny smirk tried to form on Austin’s face, his bottle helped to control it.

“So then I happen to stop off at McGuire’s for lunch. Low and behold, Megan O’Leary, new bride of old doc O’Leary, was standing in the middle of the bar, cursing the poor man in a language I couldn’t understand, but the fellas who were sitting around the place sure did. So I asked one of them what in the hell was going on with her. Imagine my surprise when I learned a certain nurse had gone into the ER where he worked, found him in one of the rooms where he was talking with his sister in law on the phone, in a way no married man should be speaking. The nurse called everyone on the floor to listen to what she had to say. The sister in law pretends to be the wife, but lucky for her, or rather not so lucky, a new doctor who was starting that night, apparently has a parent who was from Ireland and he speaks Irish as well. He listened to the doc’s call after the nurse left, who was disgusted the wife didn’t seem to care about the man having a girl on the side. So he goes home and tells his Irish mother, who calls her Irish friend, who happens to be the mother of the new bride. When Megan found out a few days later, she finds him talking with his father and the conversation goes on from there.”

I shook my head, trying hard to keep up with his story; I went to open my mouth only to have him show me the palm of his hand, telling me he wasn’t finished. “But that ain’t all. It seems the good doctor has issues keeping his shillelagh in his knickers. His sister in law’s baby is his. They’ve been carrying around since she was sixteen. So I asked the guy in the bar when all of this happened? He tells me it’s the same night Cash took his life.” He looked down at the floor quickly and gulps about half of his beer, before continuing.

“I then asked myself, who do I know with enough fire in her belly to confront a man like that. Only one person stood out, so I go over and ask around, thinking it could only be one gal. But when I talk with a young lady by the name of Shayla, I find out the girl is none other than Claire!” The way he exclaims her name, voice riddled with shock, body language confirming the disbelief.

“So I ask around, see if anyone saw anything? Since it was so late in the evening, nobody noticed anything.” He shrugged his shoulders while poking out his bottom lip.

“As I walked out of the ER, I recalled an attack which happened in the parking lot at the end of the block. So I went back inside and asked to see the security footage.”

My pulse quickened, I had forgotten about the hospital cameras. “Turns out the hospital had the same type of power surge as the city.” Each word is said as he grimaces in Austin’s direction. “So, as I’m leaving again, I see the convenience store across the street and head over. Just as I was about to go in to see if they had any outside cameras, I overhear two old guys talking about watching a girl pounding the shit out of some guy the other night. I’m about to tune them out, thinking they are talking about one of the hookers on the street, when one of the guys starts talking about how he’d seen this girl leaving the hospital in a uniform. I backed up, asked them to tell me the story, and what wouldn’t you know, they describe my Claire to a fucking tee.” His hand slapped his thigh, and then pointed in my direction.

“Then they tell me about some hot shot who came out of nowhere and started kicking the shit out of the guy, tells the pretty lady to get out of there, only she turned around and kicked the fucker in the balls. The dude who showed up punched him a few more times and then places him under arrest, tossed him in the back of a very expensive looking sports car, and hauls ass toward the police station. Only problem is, between eleven fifteen and four twenty three in the morning, not a single male is arrested in Charleston County.” He downed the remainder of his beer and tossed the empty perfectly into the trash behind him.

“So then I asked myself, if I were Cash, and I’d just had my balls handed to me by a girl half my weight, would the first thing I did once I bonded out be to jump off a bridge?” He paused for a second, then looked back to me. “Fuck no I wouldn’t! I’d find out where the fuck the bitch lived and I’d make sure she never spoke about it to nobody.”