Harper Ross Legal Thrillers vol. 1-3 Page 10

  Just then, though, Seth stood up and raised his voice. “Your honor, you can’t let this bitch out of jail. She has to stay in jail. I want her to think long and hard about what she did and she won’t change her mind about bringing those two girls back unless she suffers.”

  The prosecutor looked over, and so did the judge. “Sit down, sir,” Judge Wilson said to the clearly enraged man.

  I looked at Seth, and, once again, it looked like he wanted to haul off and hit me. His fists were clenched, his eyes were bugging out, and I could see a vein coming out of his forehead. His body was coiled, as if he was a Cobra who was ready to strike.

  “I won’t. I won’t sit down until you agree not to let that cunt out on bond.”

  At that, Judge Wilson banged his gavel, because everybody in the courtroom started to talk at once. Nobody could quite believe that this man was screaming the “c” word. “Bailiff, please take this gentleman out of this courtroom.” Then the judge leaned down and spoke in a low voice. “I used the term gentleman lightly, of course.”

  I nodded my head. “Of course. Thank you, your honor, for the signature bond.”

  “You’re one of us,” he said with a wink. “And I think I know something about why you did what you did. Good luck with that, though. Judge Michaels won’t give you any quarter, I know that. You better get your ducks in a row, because she don’t take much shit.”

  Judge Michaels was the Family Court judge who was overseeing the girls’ case. She was going to hold me in contempt if I didn't bring back the girls. I was prepared for that.

  “Thanks.”

  The bailiff led me away and I looked back at Tammy. She was standing by the bench, talking to the prosecutor. Then she came over to me. “Well, looks like you’re going to be back in the office today. And none too soon, either. We have the mother’s computer.”

  I smiled. Things were going well on that front, at least.

  “Good deal. I’ll have to get into it tonight. I think that computer will unlock a lot of key information that we’re going to need.”

  At that, I was led out of the courtroom and into the van that would take me back to the jail. I would get my stuff, sign my name promising to appear for every court date, and get to work on Heather’s case.

  Something told me that the computer was going to hold something major.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When I got back to the office that evening, I called Heather. “Heather,” I said, “This is Harper.”

  “I know. I got caller ID, you know. How are things?”

  “Good. I have your mom’s computer.”

  Heather didn’t say anything.

  “Is there anything wrong?”

  “Yeah. I got a friend, or I had a friend. Name’s George. He was a gay boy, not trans. He was one of the people who helped me when I transitioned. Well, not totally transitioned, but you know what I mean. He was there.”

  My heart sunk. Just the way that Heather was talking, I surmised that this George person had died. I wondered if he died of AIDS, then I immediately felt bad that I jumped to conclusions. Just because a young gay person dies doesn’t mean that it was AIDS. “You said that you had a friend. What happened to him?”

  She sighed. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with him for a few weeks now. You know, ‘hey it’s me, call me back,’ that kind of thing. He didn’t call. Then today I found out why. If you got a newspaper, look at it.”

  I actually did have a newspaper, right in front of me. I opened it up and scanned it, but didn’t see anything. “Okay, you got me. What are you talking about?”

  “The Metro section. You know, where they talk about this person being found or that person getting into a car accident. This one’s not big enough to be in the front section.”

  I flipped through to the Metro section where, on the front page, there was a headline. “Body of young man found floating in the Missouri River.”

  “I found it,” I said, scanning the article. It was a standard piece that talked about how George Donnelly was reported missing by his mother two weeks prior, and that the authorities found his body washed ashore of the Missouri River. “Heather, I’m so sorry. This was a dear friend?”

  “He was.” She was silent for a few seconds. “Anyhow,” she said, her voice cracking, “you’re out of jail?”

  “I am. For now.”

  “What do you mean, for now?”

  “Well, I have a hearing on the girls’ case on Thursday. I would imagine that the Family Court Judge is going to order me to bring the girls back to the Browns, and I’m not going to do it. So, I’ll be jailed until I comply, which will be the twelfth of never. Especially after I’ve gotten a look at the father, Seth Brown. That man needs anger control, at a minimum. I’m not going to subject those two girls to him and his psycho son.”

  “I admire your conviction, but I hope you can do my case justice. My life is in your hands, you know. Literally, I guess.”

  I sighed. “I know. I wish that I could figure out a way around all of this, but…”

  “Okay.” She sounded defeated, dejected. Certainly not the Heather I had grown to know.

  “You okay?”

  “No. But I will be. As soon as….”

  I heard her sobbing. “Heather…I’ll come and visit you. We’ll look at your mother’s computer together. I can even bring you some of your favorite food, whatever that is. What is it?”

  “Church’s Chicken,” she said. “I’m not even kidding. There’s one in Mid-Town, it’s on the way. Original recipe, mac and cheese and cole slaw. And a large iced tea.”

  I laughed. “I like a girl who knows what she wants. I’ll be there in about an hour.”

  ABOUT AN HOUR LATER, I arrived at the halfway house, Church’s chicken in hand. I picked up a two-piece for myself with mashed potatoes and mac and cheese. Heather came out and met me, and we took our food to the enclosed porch at the back of the house.

  “Um hm,” she said, looking me up and down as I got the food out of the bags and put it on paper plates. “Where do you put all that junk? You’re as skinny as a ferret.”

  I laughed. “I could ask the same about you.”

  “I actually hit the gym five days a week. Don’t laugh. It’s the perfect place to eye cute boys while getting my ass to be as high as it can. Course, I haven’t been doing that lately. Been just watching TV in my room this whole time.” She slapped her butt. “Gotta get this working again soon. Hope they’ll give me passes out of here. You still going to try to get me to stay at your house?”

  “I am,” I said. “If I don’t-“

  “Go to jail. I know.” Heather rolled her eyes. “Anyhoo, let’s look at the old bag’s computer. What are you looking for?”

  “I’m going to start with her browsing history. See what sites she frequents.”

  “I’m sure it’s not going to be good. Something was making her all Jesusy and freaky. Hope this computer can explain that.”

  I booted up, and, since the computer was ancient, it seemed to take forever. “You okay?” I asked Heather while we waited and waited and waited for the computer to come online. “I mean, losing a friend is rough.”

  “Yeah, it is. It really is.” Heather shook her head. “Harper, it’s still so hard to be different. To be trans, to be gay. It’s like there’s no more groups to openly hate, except for us. And trans is even more hated than the gays. But the gays are hated enough. You’d think people would learn to live and let live by now, wouldn’t you?”

  We ate our chicken and I listened to the sounds outside the enclosed porch. It was a warm night, as it always is in June in Kansas City, and the cicadas were sounding off in the huge oak tree that was growing in the yard in the back of the house. The bugs were buzzing by the thousands, teeming in the trees. I always wondered why I could never see any of these bugs, but I could always hear them, especially at dusk. The people next door were laughing and talking. I couldn’t see them, because the wooden fence was over seven feet
tall, but I could hear snippets of conversation and laughter.

  I watched the fireflies buzzing through the air, their lights flickering off and on. The fireflies on the ground were blinking their lights at the ones in the air, the females calling to the males silently with their glow.

  “I don’t know,” I finally said. “I can never figure out why people like to hate on defenseless others who aren’t like them, just because they are different. It seems that society always has to find some kind of a scapegoat. Somebody who we can point to and say that our problems are all because of them. Muslims, undocumented workers and LGBT – these groups seem to be the scapegoats of the moment. Unfortunately, LGBT seems to be the perennial scapegoats.”

  I put my arm around Heather, and she lay her head on my shoulder. “What do you think happened to your friend?”

  Heather shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably had the shit beat out of him by some hateful people. Or some shit like that.”

  “Well,” I said, carefully removing my arm from around Heather’s shoulders. “Let’s get to work. The sooner we find out what your mother was up to, the sooner we can get the show on the road. And time is really of the essence now. After all, I might be returning to jail in just a few days. We gotta get something figured out by then.”

  “Okay. Here’s the password,” Heather said, writing down the word Langston. “Believe it or not, that was her favorite author at one time. Langston Hughes. Before she got all weird on me and shit, she actually was kinda sane. Liked great literature, appreciated the arts and classical music. She actually used to be able to stand the sight of me, too. When I was her little boy.” She shuddered. “Her little boy. I was miserable as her little boy. When I became her little girl, it was like I suddenly felt good for the first time in my life.”

  I typed in the word Langston and the computer came online. The little icons popped up, and they were the first things I looked at. I wanted to see what kind of apps she had downloaded.

  That didn’t bear much fruit, but I really didn’t think that it would. She pretty much only had common apps such as Netflix and Hulu and things like that. Not that I thought that I was going to hit the jackpot right off the bat, but it would have been nice.

  “Okay, let’s take a look at her browsing history.” I went into her history, which she never cleared. She probably didn’t think that she would have reason to clear it, because she obviously wasn’t anticipating her own daughter murdering her, and she certainly couldn’t foresee that her computer would become so pertinent to the investigation.

  I smiled when I saw X-Hamster pop up in her history. X-Hamster is pretty much a porn hub, where people can access porn clips and movies for free or for a fee. “Typical hypocrite,” I muttered. “Do as I say not as I do, huh?” As much as I wanted to access the exact movies she had downloaded, I didn’t want to go that far just yet. It wasn’t my business, it wasn’t pertinent and it was really an invasion of her privacy.

  Heather had a smirk on her face when the X-Hamster thing popped up on the history. “So mom got her freak on. Who knew?”

  “Well, a girl gets lonely,” I said and Heather smiled and then laughed out loud.

  “True that.”

  “Hmmm,” I said, looking at some more of her browsing history. “What’s this?” It was a website for a church, called The Church of the Living Breath. I noticed that she had logged onto the website several times a day. Perhaps that was the website that she had logged onto the most. “You said that your mother was never religious?”

  “Not until recently when she became Jesusy. Why? Does she have some church pop up on her history a bunch?”

  “You might say that,” I said, going to the Church website. I read the mission statement for the church, which read like a pretty generic statement. “We at the Church of the Living Breath aim to provide Christ-centered principles to your everyday issues. Please join us for services at 9 and 11 AM Sundays and 7 PM Saturdays.”

  I raised my eyebrow and made notes. So far, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about this particular church, even though I had never heard of it. I didn’t even know what denomination it was. It wasn’t like it said the denomination on the website.

  Then I started to look at the articles that the website hosted, and one in particular caught my eye. It was an article about how to handle sons and daughters who had come out as LGBT.

  Has your son or daughter come out to you as gay or trans? As you know, the Bible states that homosexuality is a sin and the wages of sin is death. If you are afraid that your child is bound for Hell because of his or her lifestyle, The Church of the Living Breath states that you are correct. Your child will be condemned to an eternity in Hell unless you take affirmative action to make sure that this does not happen.

  We can help. We can offer counseling and a referral to therapists who can reverse your child’s perverted desires. If you are truly interested in saving your child from certain damnation, please pay us a visit and ask for Louisa Garrison. Thank you.

  Heather was sitting next to me and reading every word of the article. “What a load of crap,” she said. “Going to Hell. I’ll tell you who’s going to Hell – that Louisa Garrison, whoever that bitch is.”

  “Well, this message isn’t really that much out of the mainstream,” I said. “Unfortunately, this seems pretty in-line with a lot of right-wing religions. The message is a bit more out there than other churches, but, other than that…”

  Still, it was a place to start. For one, it seemed that the mother probably got the idea for forcing Heather into conversion therapy by this church. I did wonder where she found this place, or why she ended up going there.

  “If that’s what mainstream churches preach, hate, then I want no part of that nonsense.”

  “Well, I didn’t say that it was mainstream. I said that it wasn’t that far out of the mainstream. Many churches are based upon love and non-judgment and they don’t even mention things like homosexuality. Others seem to stand on judgment, as this one does. So far, though, this message on the website doesn’t actually seem all that different to me than some of the more extreme churches out there.”

  “So, are you going to talk to this bitch or what?”

  “That’s a place to start.”

  “Start there, I bet you’re going to find out a whole lot from these weirdoes.”

  We ate the rest of the chicken as I listened to the sounds of the cicadas in the trees and the distant sound of a barking dog. “Heather,” I said. “Why did you choose me as your attorney?”

  “I knew that you would understand me,” she said. “Your Law Review article was something that I read after I was put into jail,” she said. “And I came across the case that you cited that talked about how evidence of brainwashing of the victim can be used to show self-defense.” When she said the word victim, she used air quotes.

  “So you had the feeling that your mother was being brainwashed?”

  Heather shrugged her shoulders. “I guess. It seemed that she was. She certainly wasn’t acting like she used to.”

  I read some more of the Church’s literature, and I couldn’t escape the feeling I got when I read the articles that were hosted on the site. Anti-gay articles, articles about how women need to accept their husband’s behavior no matter what, even pro-slavery articles were on this website.

  I had the feeling that Heather’s mother wasn’t a part of a church at all.

  She was a part of a cult.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The next day, I was prepared for two different things – one, I was prepared to go down to this “church” and talk to this Louisa person and find out what this church was all about. Perhaps I needed to go to a service first, though. I needed to see for myself what kinds of things this cult was teaching their congregants, or whatever it is that you call the people who follow cult leaders. Cult followers, I would guess. These people might call themselves a church, but I knew the difference between a church and a cult, and, base
d on these odd articles that they host on their website, I immediately thought that it was a cult.

  I was also prepared to go to jail within a few days. Specifically, the day of the hearing, I knew that I would be taken into custody for contempt. I wouldn’t be able to bond out of that one. I would just have to stay in jail until I bowed to the judge’s order, and I wasn’t going to do that anytime soon.

  I wished that I could talk to Rina and Abby, but, as a condition of my bond, I couldn’t have contact with them. I did talk to Sophia, who was the nanny who was staying with them, and she said that they were doing fine, but bored. They couldn’t risk going out of the hotel room, so they had to stay cooped up there. It was a nice hotel room, though, so it wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it was a suite, complete with a jacuzzi tub, a dining room table, satellite TV with every channel imaginable, and a video game console. Sophia bought them some video games with the credit card I gave her, and she said that they were busying themselves with that.

  “But Harper,” she said, “what are you going to do? What’s your long-term plan?”

  I didn’t know. Maybe hire my own undercover agent to find out what’s going on in that house, which would hopefully force Alexis to change her mind about advocating on behalf of the Browns. I didn’t know if that would work – Alexis seemed to have her mind made up.

  I came up to the Church, which was behind an enormous gate. I shook my head, thinking that this whole thing wasn’t a good sign. It certainly didn’t look like a church – it looked more like a compound.

  I drove up to the guy who was minding the gate. “Where are you going?” He asked me, a clipboard in his hand.

  “I’m here to see Louisa Garrison,” I said to him. “This is a professional visit.”

  “A professional visit?” he asked. “What is the nature of this?”

  “I’m an attorney,” I said, showing him my Bar Card. That usually did it – nobody wanted to mess with an attorney. I was able to get in just about anywhere by showing that card.