The Perk (46 page)

"I blamed you."

"I know."

J.B. and Jodie came splashing through the river
to them. Aubrey limped behind. J.B. kicked the two dead coyotes.

"Bitches."

"Beck," Jodie said, "you're
bleeding."

Beck now looked at himself. His shirt was
shredded and wet with water from the river and blood from his chest and arms.
He released his son and removed his shirt. He dipped the shirt into the river
and wiped the blood from his body. He then pulled his boots off and dumped the
water out.

"Well, these boots are shot."

Aubrey gave him a hand up and said, "Jodie,
that's why kids in the country learn to shoot."

 
 
Dear J.B.,

I've seen the future. This is
my last Thanksgiving and your last one alone. They will be with you next year,
Beck and the children.

Love, Annie

The Monday after Thanksgiving, Wes Wagner
was on another movie set, this time at a winery in Napa Valley. Teddy Bodeman
was playing the son of a winery patriarch who falls in love with the daughter
of his father's bitter rival who owns the neighboring winery.
Romeo and
Juliet
meets
Sideways
. Who thinks up this shit?

It was supposed to be a romantic comedy, but
what was funny was the fact that Teddy Bodeman had to pee in a cup whenever the
studio rep told him to. Teddy had been in and out of drug rehab since his
first hit when he was twenty-three. He was thirty-seven now. His movie
contracts now contained the "pee in a cup" clause: to prove he was
staying clean throughout the entire filming, Teddy had to pee in a cup several
times a day. A grown man pissing on command. But Wes figured, for $20
million, he'd pee on himself in public. Which he had done on more than one
occasion for free.

Wes spotted the studio rep, the only guy wearing
a suit. What a job, waiting around for some random opportunity to collect
urine from another man. The shoot wrapped, and Teddy walked off the set. The
studio rep intercepted him. No doubt he told Teddy he wanted a cupful of pee
because Teddy now appeared annoyed. The rep followed Teddy over to his trailer
and climbed in after him. A few minutes later, the rep appeared with a little
white sack. He carried it like he was carrying a feminine hygiene product.

Wes followed the rep to the parking lot. He was
driving a Beemer convertible. Wes liked it when the target made his job easy.
The rep got into the car and checked his hair. Wes walked around the other
side and quickly jammed a roofing nail into the rear tire. He then said,
"Hey, you got a flat tire back here."

"What?"

The rep got out and came around to that side.

"Yeah, you must've run over this
nail."

"Shit."

Wes walked over to his Mustang. The rep stood by
his car a few minutes, then went inside the winery, apparently looking for
someone to change his tire. Wes went over to the Beemer. He leaned over,
opened the white sack sitting on the passenger's seat, removed the urine
specimen, and substituted another specimen. His specimen. When the test
results on that urine came back, Teddy Bodeman was going to have some
explaining to do.

"Judge, it says here results on
the first sample went out yesterday. But I've got staff taking off for the
holidays. We'll get to the others next year."

"Next year will be too late. We've only got
twenty-one days before the statute of limitations runs. I've got to have those
test results by New Year's Eve!"

Two weeks later and the DPS Crime Lab was still so
backlogged that Beck had not yet received results on the DNA samples from Zeke Adams, Joe Raines, Eddie Steele, and Teddy Bodeman. Wes was still searching
for Chase Connelly.

"Judge," the DPS Crime Lab director
said, "if it were a murder case, we'd expedite. But stat rape … come
on."

"You know whose DNA you're testing?"

"No."

"Movie stars'."

"Like who?"

"When you get a match, I'll tell you."

The director laughed. "Okay, Judge, I'll
push 'em. But no promises."

Beck hung up. The lab was on board; now he had
to get the D.A. on board. He looked up at Niels Eichman.

"Our little beauty queen got picked up in Austin by one of the biggest movie stars in the world?" the D.A. said.

"Yep."

"And he gave her the cocaine that killed
her?"

"Yep."

"And he had sex with a minor?"

"Yep."

"Even if you're right, Judge—"

"Niels, it's time you called me Beck."

"Even if you're right, Beck, a DNA match from those samples isn't enough to convict. There's no chain of evidence. God knows
where you got those samples from."

"A reliable source."

"Oh, yeah, I'll go to trial with
that."

"It's enough to indict. All we need is
probable cause. We can indict the guy that matches, then I'll sign a search
warrant to get an official sample to confirm."

"Beck, I get the grand jury to indict one
of those stars and it turns out he's the wrong guy, I'm gonna look dumber than
that Duke D.A. And hell, this is all moot anyway. No way the crime lab is
gonna have DNA results in time."

The D.A. stared past Beck as if in deep
thought. He finally said, "You've got company," and nodded at the
window. Beck turned. Jodie was standing at the window in her running outfit.
She smiled and held up a cup of coffee. Beck opened the window.

"Small nonfat latte," Jodie said. "I
was coming this way, thought our coyote-killing judge might need one."

Beck thanked her and took the coffee. She jogged
off, and Beck couldn't help but look after her a moment. When he turned from the
window, the D.A. was frowning.

"You're not … you know"—he made a
little punching motion with his fist—"with the lesbian?"

"No, I'm not. And her name's Jodie."

Beck needed the D.A., so he decided to play the
ego card.

"Niels, that Duke D.A. didn't have DNA evidence. You will. Conclusive DNA evidence proving that a movie star had sex with a
sixteen-year-old girl who died of a cocaine overdose in his limo. Imagine the
media attention that case will bring, a Hollywood movie star on trial right
here in Gillespie County, Texas. Hundreds of TV cameras camped out front,
thousands of reporters … and you'll be the star of the show. You'll be on
national TV every day."

The D.A.'s expression changed; Beck could see
his mind working through the possibilities.

"National TV?"

"Network."

"Could we televise the trial?"

He asked like a child asking if he could have an
ice cream cone. Beck shrugged.

"Sure, why not?"

"That'd be better than O.J. All these guys
are white, so I wouldn't have to include minorities on the jury. I could stack
it with my people—twelve angry Germans doing the Lord's work!"

"Hallelujah, brother."

The D.A.'s eyes got glassy. "This kind of
case, I could skip right over being a judge, move straight up to the big house."

"The mansion."

"The Governor's Mansion. I'd be the D.A.
who convicted a movie star, whoever this guy is. My name recognition would be
off the friggin' charts all over the state."

"The nation."

The D.A. pointed a finger at Beck. "Let's
find this guy! I'll have the grand jury on standby. We'll indict that son of
a bitch on a Sunday if we have to!"

The D.A. was officially on board. Just then Sheriff
Grady Guenther walked into the room and placed a plate of crepes covered in
plastic wrap and a document on Beck's desk.

"From Lester. Strawberry. And this just
came in. No match on the cigarette butt. Zeke Adams ain't the guy."

"Damn."

The D.A. said, "Lester got anymore of
those?"

"Yep," Grady said. He turned to Beck
and winked. "You know, killing a coyote barehanded, that's the kind of
thing could make you unbeatable in next year's election."

The D.A. stood and walked to the door.
"Things go right, you can have that chair the rest of your life because I'll
be running for governor next election. Call me when you get a match."

Three days later, Grady walked into Beck's chambers and placed
another plate and another document on Beck's desk.

"Beignets. No match on the semen from the
thong. Joe Raines ain't the guy."

"Damn."

The next day, Grady walked into Beck's chambers and placed
another plate and another document on Beck's desk.

"Cream puffs. No match on the blood.
Eddie Steele ain't the guy."

"Damn."

Four days after that, Grady Guenther walked into Beck's
chambers and placed another plate and another document on Beck's desk. Beck
looked up at him.

"Strawberry crepes?"

"Cream cheese. Enjoy 'em, 'cause it's
Lester's last day."

Beck held up the document. "No
match?"

Grady smiled. "Match."

"
What?
We
got him? Teddy Bodeman had sex with Heidi?"

"Oral. His DNA matches the sample from her
blouse."

Beck slumped back in his chair.
"Damn."

"Yeah. And we don't have jurisdiction to
charge him—that blowjob occurred in Austin and that's Travis County."

"There might be something I can do."

"Judge Hardin, my client does not consent to this
phone conversation being recorded. If you record it, you're violating the
federal wiretapping law, and we will have you prosecuted."

"I'm not recording this conversation."

Beck had found Teddy Bodeman's agent's name and
phone number on the Internet. He had called the agent, who refused to pass on
Beck's request that Teddy call him back, until Beck told him it was in
reference to a "blowjob Teddy got in Austin five years ago from a
sixteen-year-old girl who died of a cocaine overdose in a movie star's limo
that same night." An hour later, Teddy's lawyer had put through this
conference call. Teddy Bodeman was on the line, but his lawyer was doing all
the talking.

"Good. Now,
Teddy has an airtight alibi for that night. From nine
P.M.
until eleven
P.M.
, he attended a dinner at the Governor's Mansion in Austin
with the governor of Texas, the governor's wife, the mayor of Austin and his
wife, and two hundred other people. After the dinner, he went to a screening
at the Paramount Theatre with the governor and the mayor and their wives. That
lasted until one
A.M.
After that, Teddy gave the governor a ride home—in Teddy's limo. The governor
of Texas was in Teddy's limo that night, Judge, not a sixteen-year-old
girl."

That was a pretty good alibi, not that Beck
thought Teddy had killed Heidi.

"I emailed the girl's photo. Do you
recognize her, Mr. Bodeman?"

"No."

"Then why does your DNA match the semen
sample obtained from her blouse?"

Teddy's lawyer: "How did you obtain Teddy's
DNA?"

"None of your business."

Not that Beck knew how Wes had obtained Teddy's
urine sample.

"We could sue and find out."

"But you won't. Answer my question, Mr.
Bodeman."

"Look, there were lots of willing girls at that
festival, there always are. Some blonde gave me a hummer in a booth in a bar.
No big deal."

"Does that happen often?"

"All the time."

He sounded truthful.

"But you don't recognize Heidi?"

"No. They all look the same when their
head's in my lap."

Teddy chuckled; Beck didn't.

"After she gave you oral sex, what
happened?"

"She asked if I could get her an
audition."

"And what did you say?"

"I said that
was
her audition."

"Nice. And then what happened?"

"She left. A while later, we went to the
dinner."

"Who's we?"

"My manager and my wife."

"Your wife was in the booth with you while
a girl gave you oral sex?"

"Judge, we're a little less uptight about
sex out here in Hollywood than you people in Texas."

"And you never saw the girl again?"

"No."

"Well, Teddy, your DNA proves that you had
sex with a minor."

"She was in a bar, how would I know she was
a minor?"

"Doesn't matter whether you knew or
not."

"That's dumb."

"That's the law."

Teddy's lawyer jumped in: "Judge, his DNA doesn't prove anything. Teddy admits a blonde girl gave him oral sex that night. But that
doesn't mean it was this girl. There were hundreds of blonde girls that
night. Maybe some of Teddy's semen was left on the seat of the booth or on the
edge of the table, and maybe this girl sat down in that booth when Teddy left
and got his semen on her shirt that way. Or maybe the girl who gave him oral
sex was walking out of the bar and sneezed on your girl and his semen was
deposited in that manner on her shirt. Or maybe the girl wiped her mouth and
had some on her hand and then wiped her hand on your girl's shirt. Or maybe …"

"I get your point."

"Good. So don't even think about going
public with this, Judge, because I will sue your ass in a California court for
defamation. And you don't have judicial immunity out here."

"Teddy, do you have children?"

"Three."

"You think they'd be proud of you if they
knew all this?"

"I think they're proud to be living in a
mansion with servants."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-seven."

"Grow up."

Teddy laughed. "Oh, and what would you do
if a gorgeous young girl offered you sex, Judge? Would you turn it down?"

Gretchen Young was young and gorgeous and helping the children
into their cars. Beck saw her from his spot deep in the carpool line. And he
thought about what Teddy Bodeman had said. Was his law degree and lesser
income the only difference between Beck Hardin and Teddy Bodeman?