The Perk (51 page)

"I need to know the truth about Heidi."

"Aubrey, the truth is that Heidi was your
daughter and you loved her."

"Tell me what you know, Beck. Everything."

"I've told you all I'm going to tell
you."

"I'm entitled, Beck."

"No, you're not. You asked me to do this, and
I did it for you because of what I did to you—"

"And to get some answers, for Meggie."

"Yeah, that too. Aubrey, you asked me to
get justice for Heidi, and I tried. I know things about you and Randi and
Heidi I don't want to know. But I'm the judge and you came to me for justice.
So I know. And I have to live with it. You don't."

"I can handle it."

"No, you can't."

"Please, Beck."

Aubrey appeared on the verge of crying.

"I'll tell you one thing: forget about
Randi. You don't want her back."

"Why not?"

"Just trust me. You don't want her back. And
Aubrey, don't ever ask me again about this case. If that fax doesn't ring,
this case ends at midnight."

It ended at midnight.

The grand jury left, the D.A. left, and then the
sheriff left. Aubrey did not leave, so Beck said, "Go home, Aubrey. Or
go to church. But this is a courthouse, I'm the judge, and the law has done
all it can do."

Aubrey stood to leave.

"What are you going to do?" Beck said.

"Go home. I don't go to church no
more."

"No. About coaching."

"I don't know."

"Aubrey, let's not see each other again until
you decide."

"But, Beck … you and J.B. and the kids,
y'all are the only family I got now."

"I know."

Aubrey walked out, and Beck leaned his head
back. He closed his eyes. Grady was right: he had learned more about the
people in this town than he wanted to know.

The fax machine rang.

Beck opened his eyes
and glanced at the clock: 12:57
A.M.
He had fallen asleep. The fax spat out two sheets of
paper. Beck stood and stepped over to the machine. He picked up the pages and
read the test results: Chase Connelly's DNA matched the DNA of the semen recovered from Heidi's body.

He read the entire report and felt depressed. Fax
in hand, he walked out of his chambers and climbed the spiral staircase to the
second-floor courtroom. The Christmas lights at the Marktplatz across Main Street lit the room sufficiently, so he didn't turn the lights on. He sat behind the
bench. He felt tired. There would be no justice for Heidi Fay Geisel.

"You must really like your job."

Beck jumped. Standing at the entrance to the
courtroom was Chase Connelly.

Chase coughed. "Working this late on New
Year's Eve, you must like being a judge." Chase walked slowly up the
center aisle and glanced around at the courtroom. "You know, I'm reading
a script right now, a legal thriller. The hero's a lawyer in a big law firm
who uncovers a secret, the law firm hiding some kind of environmental disaster
their rich client caused. He decides to go public, so the bad guys chase him.
He's running, fighting, shooting—'Rambo Goes to Law School' or something like
that."

"There's not a lot of gunfire in a
corporate law firm."

"Except in the movies." He glanced
around. "So where does the accused sit? Up here?"

Chase climbed into the jury box and sat.

"That's for the jurors. What do you want,
Chase?"

"I want to know if I should take that
role."

"How would I know if you should star in
some movie?"

"Because you get to decide my next role: Rambo
lawyer or prison inmate. Which is it, Judge?"

"Neither."

"I didn't finish college, Judge. You'll
have to explain that. Am I going to prison?"

"No, Chase, you're not going to prison. You
did it and we know it, but the DNA results came in too late. The statute of
limitations ran at midnight."

"So there's nothing you can do to me?"

"There's nothing the law can do to you."

"Guess I'll take that role then."

He coughed.

"Why'd you come out here, Chase?"

"Because I didn't want my daughter to see
me getting arrested. I figured if it was going to happen, might as well happen
here. Guess I made the trip for nothing." The weight of the world seemed
to lift from Chase Connelly. "Hey, Judge, how about some free legal
advice?"

"What's that?"

"Do I still have to pay the mother? I
mean, twenty-five million, that's a pretty steep price for a perk."

"Chase, the price you paid was a lot higher
than that. The law can't touch you now, but life can. It already has."

Chase stood and smiled like a movie star. "I
like my life, Judge. A lot more now. Damn, I feel like a new man."

"Don't take that role, Chase. You won't
finish it."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not a new man. You're a
dead man."

The smile left Chase's face.

"Is that a threat, Judge?"

"No, Chase, it's a medical fact. You've
got AIDS."

"Bullshit."

"Your blood samples, Chase. DNA tests on blood are run on white blood cells—red blood cells don't contain DNA. That's why your tests took so long—the lab had to run extra DNA tests because you've got
almost no white blood cells. Then they ran an AIDS test. The lab tech wrote
on the report, 'If this guy catches a cold, he's a dead man.' How long have
you had that cough?"

"A month."

"Have you lost weight?"

"Fifteen pounds."

Beck sighed. "You killed her and she
killed you."

"What do you mean?"

"Heidi was HIV positive. You gave her
cocaine, she gave you AIDS."

"That bitch!"

Chase fell into the juror's chair and put his hands
on the railing and his face in his hands.

"Oh, God."

Dr. Janofsky's tests on Heidi's and Slade's
blood had revealed that both were HIV positive. Beck figured that Slade had
contracted the disease from shooting steroids with dirty needles at those Austin gyms. Then he had infected Heidi. And she had infected Chase Connelly.

Chase's face turned up to Beck. He was crying.

"What am I supposed to do now, Judge?"

"Go home, Chase. Go home to your wife and
daughter."

Beck went home to his wife. He read her last emails.

 
My dearest J.B.,

Julie is with me. She gives me morphine.
It feels so good. Better than a bottle of wine. Beck is with me, too. All
the time now. I try to act brave for him, but I'm not. I'm so afraid.

One last favor, J.B. Please
don't let Beck make your mistake. Encourage him to let another woman in his
life when the time is right, someone who loves him and my children. He will
think he can't fall in love again, but he can, he will, and he should. He kept
his vows to me, and now I release him from those vows. I want him to love and
be loved again.

Love, Annie

A final secret: Annie had appeared so brave in
the face of death, but she had been afraid. Beck turned off the computer. He
finally knew his wife, thirteen years after he had married her and a year after
she had died. She had been right on so many things about him, but she had been
wrong on one thing: Beck Hardin would always love only a dead woman.

"Hi, Judge Hardin!"

Beck waved at the Main Street business owner.
Downtown was quiet. January was the slowest month of the year; all the credit
cards from Christmas shopping came due in January.

"Judge!"

Beck waved. Everyone knew the judge in a small
town, and the judge knew them. He knew too much. Beck didn't want to be their
judge anymore. This town wasn't good enough for its judge, and he wasn't a
good enough judge for this town.

"Judge Hardin!"

Beck waved absentmindedly but then spotted Kim
Krause waving at him from across the street. He waited while she darted across
Main Street. She had an armload of books.

"Hi, Kim."

"Hi, Judge. I like your shirt. Scary, but
not as scary as those suits."

Beck was wearing the Tommy Bahama shirt Jodie
had given him for Christmas, jeans, and his new cowboy boots.

"Judge, I just wanted you to know, I'm
taking those computer courses, over at the community college."

"Good."

"And I deleted our nude photos, mine and
Heidi's."

"Better."

She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down and
kissed him on the cheek. When she pulled back, she had tears in her eyes.

"I miss her. Heidi."

"I know you do."

"Thanks, Judge."

"Good luck, Kim."

She walked east, and Beck walked west. He had
left this town without a mother and had returned without a wife. He had
changed, and his hometown had changed. He was a different man living a
different life. It wasn't the life he had dreamed of, but it was the life he
had. And he had his children.

"Judge Hardin!"

He again snapped out of his thoughts and saw
Julio Espinoza and Nikki Ernst walking toward him. When they arrived, he said,
"Julio, Nikki. How are you kids doing?"

"Great," Nikki said.

"How's it going at school?"

"It is quiet," Julio said. "The Latinos are gone.
And I will be gone soon, too."

"You going to UT?"

"No. To Rice."

"Me, too," Nikki said.

"Are you guys …"

"Dating? Yes, Judge, we are."

"What'd your parents say, Nikki?"

"About Julio or Rice?"

"Both."

"They had a cow. Or I should say, a goat.
But they'll get over it—in twenty or thirty years."

"Nikki, can I talk to you … privately?"

Beck stepped away from Julio a few paces. Nikki
followed.

"We'll be just a minute, Julio."

"What is it, Judge?" Nikki said.

"Nikki, Slade's autopsy showed he was HIV
positive."

She said nothing.

"Nikki?"

She sat down on a bench. Beck sat next to her.
She stared at the sidewalk.

"You should get tested, Nikki."

She shook her head slowly.

"We never had sex. Of any kind."

"You knew?"

"I thought. When he told me those other
guys at the gyms had injected him, I knew that wasn't good. I told him to get
an AIDS test, but he wouldn't. So I wouldn't." She sighed. "You
know, underneath all that football star façade, he was a good guy. But his
father pushed him so hard, and the steroids changed him."

She was crying now. She leaned her face into
his chest.

"Stay on your track in life, Nikki."

She sat up and wiped her face.

"Judge, thanks for keeping me on track,
that day in court."

They stood and returned to Julio.

"How are your folks doing?"

Julio smiled.
"They are doing well. My father, he is building rock full-time with
Señor
Gil. He is very happy."

Beck had introduced Rafael Espinoza to Gil
Johnson. Rafael had invested $500,000 in a new rock works venture with Gil,
which entitled him and Maria to a green card. The Feds call it "Green Card
Through Investment." Everyone else calls it "Citizenship for Sale." Thanks to Quentin McQuade's money, Rafael and Maria Espinoza were able to buy
their way back into America.

"Good. How's
your mother?"

"She is pregnant, so she is happy also.
Mi madre
, she
says it is all because of you. She says you are the good judge."

The law is found in statutes and codes and rules and
regulations. But wisdom can't be found in a law book. Wisdom is found in
life. In death. And every day in between. And justice isn't found in a
courtroom; it's found in the human heart.

"Judge, you got a minute?"

Standing in the door to his chambers were Earl
Danz and his ex-wife, Lynnette. They were holding hands. Beck stood.

"Earl, Lynnette … come in."

"Judge," Earl said, "we'd
appreciate it if you'd marry us up again."

"
Marry you?
"

"We made a mistake," Lynnette said,
"getting divorced. We'd like for you to correct that. Before we fly to Hawaii."

Fifteen minutes later, with Mavis as the
witness, Judge Beck Hardin had performed his first marriage. When Mr. and Mrs.
Danz turned and walked out the door, Beck could have sworn Lynnette was wearing
a thong under her slacks. Mavis was wiping her eyes. Beck gave her an "I
told you so" look.

She said, "Don't get cocky with me."

An hour later, Beck was sitting in his lawn chair on the
balcony outside his courtroom; his new black cowboy boots were resting on the
railing. The oak trees were bare, but the temperature was almost seventy, an Indian
summer day in January in the Texas Hill Country. He was reading the first
newspaper of the new year. On the front page was a photo of the first new baby
of the year. Her name was Esperanza Peña.

"Mavis said you were up here."

Sheriff Grady Guenther ducked through the window.
He pulled out the other lawn chair and sat.

"You steal one of J.B.'s shirts?"

"This one's mine."

"You ain't figuring on quittin', are you,
Beck?"

"Thought about it."

"Hope you don't. I like working with
you."

"Same here, Grady."

"So, did you hear the news?"

"What news?"

"Quentin shut down his development and left
town. Moved back to Austin. Put everything he has here up for sale."

"No kidding? So all those mansions around
his golf course won't be built?"

"Nope."

"What's going to happen with the golf
course?"

"He closed it down. I drove out there this
morning. Goats were grazing on the eighteenth fairway."

"Well, at least things will quiet down
now."

"Don't bet the ranch on it. Word is,
Quentin's gonna sell all that land to some Muslims. They want to build a mosque."
Grady stood and started to climb back through the window but stopped and said, "Oh,
J.B.'s in my jail."