The Justice Game (50 page)

    To Jason’s surprise, Rafael reached down and peeled away the duct tape holding Jason’s gag. Jason spit the gag out and looked up at Johansen.

    “Tony, shine that flashlight on the big screen,” Rafael said.

    Tony did as he was told, propping the flashlight on the arm of one of the theater seats.

    At the same time, Rafael started unwrapping the duct tape that held Kelly to her seat, talking as he did so. “We’re going to require your cooperation, Mr. Noble, in order to make this as painless as possible for your coconspirator here. The cops know that anybody can type a message into a BlackBerry. So I need you to leave a voice mail on Ms. Starling’s phone. You’re going to tell her to meet you and Andrew Lassiter at First Landing State Park. That will be the final resting place for you and your opposing counsel.”

    This time it was Jason who scoffed. “Whatever you say.” He already knew he was going to die—why cooperate with the cover-up? “What’s the worst you can do, kill me?”

    This made Rafael laugh—long and hard, as if Jason had just delivered the perfect punch line. Johansen took out a switchblade and pulled Kelly from her seat, her hands cuffed behind her back, her legs taped together, the gag still in place. “I’m glad you asked,” Rafael said. He pushed Kelly facedown on the floor and knelt on her back.

    “Because you’re about to see the worst I can do.”

Rafael Johansen flicked open the switchblade and held the edge of the blade next to Kelly’s ankle. “They say that slitting the Achilles tendon is the most painful thing that can happen to a human being,” Rafael said, businesslike. “That tendon is like an incredibly strong piece of elastic, connecting the foot to the calf muscle. When it’s snapped, the calf muscles just pull the whole ligament in and curl it up toward the knee. The foot just kind of dangles at the end of the leg, held loosely in place by skin and the bone socket.”

    Jason saw the look of terror on Kelly’s face, sweat covering her forehead, her eyes wide with a combination of fear and rage. She caught Jason’s eye and gave a small but defiant shake of the head. Then she squirmed and kicked with all her might.

    Rafael jerked her back into place and pinned her shoulders and upper body to the floor. “Try that again, and I’ll cut your face instead.”

    Jason cursed at Rafael and promised to say whatever the man wanted. “If you hurt her, so help me…”

    Rafael laughed again. “So help you
what
? You going to give me another stirring legal argument? Maybe talk me to death?”

    “You win,” Jason said. “Give me my phone.”

    Rafael grinned. “Nope. It doesn’t work quite that way. Instead, we’ll want you to speak into this little digital recorder that Tony has. Once you get the message right,
we’ll
make the phone call and use the recorder to leave the message. Takes away the margin for error, wouldn’t you say?”

    Jason knew Rafael would somehow make sure the cops found Kelly’s cell phone and Jason’s BlackBerry. Or maybe he was counting on the fact that Justice Inc. monitored Jason’s calls, that the FBI would find recordings of those calls when they executed their search warrant. Either way, Jason would be establishing a perfect cover for these men.

    Tony stood in front of Jason and took out the recorder. He pointed his gun at Jason’s knee. “It’s not quite the same as slitting the Achilles tendon, but having a kneecap blown out hurts a little, too. Let’s make sure we get the message right the first time.”

    “It’s very simple,” Rafael called out. “Just tell her to meet you and Andrew Lassiter at First Landing State Park. Plans have changed. Come immediately.”

    Jason stared at the recorder, feeling incredibly helpless. Either way, he was going to die. Did he have enough guts not to go along with the cover-up?

    Kelly answered the question for him. Without warning, she kicked again and rolled away from Johansen. She tried to stand but with her ankles taped fell back on her side. Rafael reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back toward him. “Feisty,” he said, waving the blade in front of her face. “It’s a shame to ruin such a pretty face.”

    He flicked the knife toward her just as Jason heard the blast of a gun and watched Rafael’s arm jerk backward, away from Kelly, the knife flying from his hand. The shot distracted Tony, and Jason lurched into him, head-butting the big man and forcing him backward.

    Another series of shots rang out, three of them, so close together they sounded almost like one explosion. The bullets ripped into Rafael, and he collapsed backward in a heap.

    From behind Jason, a fraction of a second later, another series of bullets flew, exploding into the head and chest of Tony. He was dead before he hit the floor.

    As quickly as it had started, it was over.

    Jason hardly dared breathe. “Are there any more?” Melissa Davids shouted from the entrance to Jason’s left.

    “I think we’re done,” Case McAllister said, limping up from behind Jason. He grabbed the flashlight and, along with Melissa, did a quick search of the theater, guns drawn as they went from row to row like a couple of trained detectives.

    When they finished, Case came down to help Jason, who had buckled to the floor.

    “You all right?” Case asked.

    “Not really.”

    Melissa knelt next to Kelly, using Johansen’s knife to cut the duct tape from around Kelly’s ankles. Next, with the gentleness of a mother, Melissa peeled off the duct tape holding Kelly’s gag.

    “Thank God,” Kelly said, her face a mixture of relief and tears. She leaned into Melissa Davids, her hands still cuffed behind her back. Melissa held her for a moment.

    Jason watched the women as Case searched through the pockets of the dead men for the handcuff keys.

    “I’m not sure how much we were planning on charging for those GPS options on our guns,” Case said over his shoulder. “But whatever it was, we oughta double it.”

    A few minutes later, after Case had unlocked the handcuffs, the SWAT team burst through the theater doors. “Hands on your heads! Freeze!”

    “That’s it. Now take two steps back away from your guns.”

    “Glad you guys could join the party,” Melissa Davids said.

The medical staff at Virginia Beach General treated Jason like royalty. Though Jason was still in shock from the pain and trauma, he realized that in the big scheme of things he was miraculously unhurt. He had dislocated his shoulder and suffered a serious concussion from the blow to his head. He now had a big bald spot where they had shaved his head for the stitches, though they had since covered the wound with gauze and a bandage.

    His first visitor was Bella Harper.

    “Look at you,” she said. “I leave you alone for one hour, and you just about get yourself killed. You look terrible.”

    “Thanks,” Jason mumbled. He motioned with his hand for Bella to keep her voice down. “I’ve got a splitting headache.”

    Bella shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m just so glad you’re okay,” she said, choking up. The bravado hadn’t lasted long. It looked like she wanted to give Jason a hug but didn’t dare touch him for fear she might hurt him. Instead, she squeezed his hand.

    “From the minute we figured out you were missing, I started praying for you,” Bella said.

    “Thanks.”

    Bella gave him the rundown about the search. She had discovered Jason and Kelly were missing when she tried to call the lawyers with news about the shadow jury’s verdict. After fifteen minutes of unanswered calls, Melissa Davids had called her company and obtained the information for the GPS unit in Jason’s gun.

    “When she found out the location, she and Mr. McAllister were on their way before they even called 911,” Bella said. “I don’t think Ms. Davids trusts the cops.”

    Jason thanked Bella for everything she had done. He was tired and hurting and just wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, all the nurses were determined to keep him awake for another twelve hours because of the concussion.

    “Don’t you want to know about the verdict?” asked Bella.

    From the tone of Bella’s voice, it was hard to tell whether they had won or not. Maybe it was the painkillers, or the trauma he had just seen Kelly endure, or the horror of seeing Andrew Lassiter shot right in front of him. For whatever reason, the verdict didn’t seem to matter as much anymore. He would certainly take no great solace in a defense verdict. As hard as it had been to watch Andrew and the others die, he couldn’t imagine what Blake Crawford must have gone through watching the tape of Rachel being shot.

    “They gave the plaintiff a million dollars,” Bella said.

    Jason closed his eyes and absorbed the news. Was it justice? In his drug-induced state, it was hard to tell.

    “I’m kidding,” Bella said, grinning. “It was a unanimous defense verdict.”

    Jason’s first thought was that he wanted to kill his assistant. There were some things you didn’t joke about. But the drugs had made a pacifist out of him.

    “Very funny, Bella,” he said as sharply as possible, though his voice didn’t have much edge to it. “How did Blake Crawford take it?”

    “That’s it?” Bella asked. “I just told you we won the biggest case of your career, and you don’t even smile?”

    “I don’t know,” Jason said. He was too drugged to be anything but honest. “It doesn’t really feel like anybody won.”

    “I know what you mean,” Bella admitted. The two were silent for a moment, as if they were honoring the memory of Rachel Crawford.

    “In answer to your question,” Bella said, her tone reflective, “Blake Crawford wasn’t there. But Reverend Starling was, and he was incredible. He thanked every one of the jurors and then called Kelly and Blake. Kelly, of course, didn’t answer. You want to know what Blake said—according to the reverend?”

    Jason shrugged.

    “He told the reverend to congratulate you and thank you for setting up a fair process for resolving the case. He said he had to accept the jury verdict as God’s will.”

    Jason thought about that for a moment. “Amazing,” he said.

    “My thoughts exactly,” Bella said.

The fallout from the Crawford case was swift and severe.

    Matt Corey and James Noble were dismissed from the Atlanta police force pending the outcome of an internal investigation. Given the fact that ten years had passed since the altered accident report and the difficulties of proving that Jason was actually driving, few expected Jason or his dad to be charged with a crime. Matt Corey, on the other hand, was facing a grand jury indictment for conspiring with Andrew Lassiter by warning him about Jason’s intent to go to the authorities.

    To Jason’s surprise, the FBI found no evidence to suggest that Judge Garrison had been blackmailed or otherwise involved in the plot. On the contrary, his disciplined handling of the case was now receiving widespread acclaim, earning him mention as a possible candidate for an appellate job down the road.

    Meanwhile, Judge Shaver apparently had second thoughts about his own appellate aspirations. In a move that only a few insiders knew was related to the Crawford case, the judge withdrew his name from consideration for the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals.

    The major media outlets enthusiastically embraced Kelly Starling as a hero and were even forced to admit that Melissa Davids and Case McAllister had also acted courageously—in a vigilante sort of way. Public opinion about Jason’s role was hotly contested. Gun supporters eagerly gave him the benefit of the doubt, while others noted that his web of deceit had nearly cost Kelly Starling her life.

    Even before the shootings in the Surf and Sand Theater, Brad Carson had discussed a deal with the FBI to grant Jason immunity in exchange for his cooperation. While Jason was in the hospital, Brad also discussed the matter informally with the head of the state bar’s disciplinary committee. According to Brad, Jason could expect to be reprimanded and placed on probation for his conduct in the Crawford case but would not lose his license since he had gone to the authorities before his client was ultimately harmed.

    Jason was released from the hospital on Tuesday morning, shaved his hair down to a nub so the bald spot wouldn’t look so conspicuous, donned his Georgia Bulldogs hat, and booked a flight to Atlanta. He stayed overnight with his father and, to his great disappointment, discovered that the events of the last few days had knocked his dad off the wagon.

    “I don’t want to hear any of your sanctimonious crap about my drinking,” his father said after half a dozen beers. “What else is a man supposed to do when he loses his job and his reputation just for trying to help his son?”

    In the past, Jason might have responded in anger. But on Tuesday night, he just murmured an apology and headed to bed.

    On Wednesday morning, Jason faced one of the most difficult ordeals of his life. He tried to get his father to go with him but was refused.

    “I can’t say anything while this investigation is ongoing,” his dad said, hunched over a cup of strong, black coffee. “And even if I could, I’m not going to apologize for protecting my son. I’d do the same thing again.”

    “Your call,” Jason said with a shrug. Change would not come easy for someone as proud as Jim Noble.

    But a few minutes later, as Jason was rising from the table resigned to the fact that things with his dad would never change, the man said something that stopped Jason in his tracks.

    “I understand why you’re doing this,” his father said without looking up. “It might not be the way I would handle it, but… regardless of what I might’ve said last night, I understand.”

    Jason stared at the top of his dad’s head for a moment. The man was complicated.

    “That’s all I can ask,” Jason said. He turned and headed for the door.

When Jason arrived at the church, he sat in his rental car for nearly five minutes, envisioning the upcoming meeting, talking himself out of turning the car around and leaving. There would be no acting in this one. Jason would have to take responsibility, fall on his sword, and ask for forgiveness. He would look them straight in the eye and explain how sorry he was. He would tell them that his lies had haunted him every day of his life.