The Fixer Upper Part 34

"Hey!" Harrell said, holding up both hands as though to fend off a physical attack from Carter Berryhill. "Don't get your boxers all bunched up at me, Mr. Lawyer. I'm the good guy here. I made the case for leaving Miss Killebrew out of this thing. My partner and I went to the wall for your client. We even took it to the SAC."

"SAC?" Tee said, looking puzzled.

"Special agent in charge," Carter explained.

"Right," Harrell went on. "The thing is, the U.S. attorney is another story. You can't quote me on this, but the thing is: Congressman Licata is a Republican. And he happens to be on some key subcommittee that's been jerking the Justice Department around on the matter of appropriations for nickel-and-dime stuff like travel and continuing education. You believe that? This motherfu...excuse me, allegedly corrupt public official, is telling us we can't buy a coach ticket to Sheboygan to interview a suspect, and in the meantime, he's taking under-the-table b.l.o.w. .j.o.bs in exchange for a vote on an oil bill."

Carter's pink ears officially turned red. "Really, Agent Harrell, what's that got to do with Miss Killebrew?"

"My boss, and his boss, they want this case watertight. They want it signed, sealed, and delivered to a jury with a pretty pink bow on top. So, while the scorecard is good, excellent even, we're gonna need just a little bit more."

He picked up the briefcase at his feet and laid it across his knees. He unsnapped the latches and brought out the plastic case he'd shown me on his last visit. It was the box with the bug.

"Miss Killebrew," he said, turning his back on Carter, "my instructions are to tell you that we will need you to get Alex Hodder, on tape, and on camera, discussing how he-using you as a dupe-hired prost.i.tutes to service Representative Anthony Licata during your trip to Lyford Cay, Bahamas, last year. We're gonna also need for you to get him to tie that into the fact that Hodder's oil industry clients paid for that trip, with the intention of bribing Licata in exchange for his favorable vote on an energy bill that stood to make them billions in profits. And in exchange for that, of course, we will not be looking at prosecuting you for public corruption."

"Would you like anything else?" Tee asked. "Maybe while she's at it she should get Hodder to confess to how he cheated on his taxes and provided a hideout for Osama bin Laden? That way she could score a hat trick-working for the FBI, the IRS, and the CIA all at the same time."

"Tee?" Carter said quietly.

"Fine," I said.

"Absolutely not," Carter said heatedly. "We had an agreement with you folks that Miss Killebrew would not be expected to try to entrap her former boss."

"You people are unbelievable," Tee went on. "It's an abuse of power, is what it is. You bully, you threaten, you intimidate, all in the name of ferreting out crime. Dempsey's a private citizen. She's committed no crime."

"Well, now," Harrell started. "The crime thing, that's still under investigation. We do have her American Express receipts, and we have statements from the prost.i.tutes that she was the one who procured their services."

"Fine," I repeated, a little louder this time. "I'll do it. Okay? I'll wear the friggin' bug. I'll call up Alex Hodder, and I'll lure him down here, and somehow, I'll get him to admit what he did. All of it. Okay?"

"Say what?" Harrell said.

"Now, Dempsey," Carter said. "You absolutely do not have to do this."

"Yes," I said. "I'm afraid I do have to do it. I want this thing done. Over with. I'm sick of having these charges hanging over my head. I'm sick of wondering if I'll ever get another decent job, of wondering how I'll support myself...I'm sick of that feeling of dread I get when my phone rings or there's a knock at the door, of wondering if it'll be Agent Harrell here, or his sidekick, or G.o.d knows who else."

Carter was shaking his head in sorrow. Tee was rolling his eyes. Harrell was practically jumping up and down for joy.

"I'll do it," I told Harrell. "But in my own way, and in my own time."

"See," Harrell said slowly, "we got a deadline on this thing-"

"I said I'd do it," I repeated. "But I do have a pressing family commitment that has to take precedence. Once that's taken care of, I'll set it up. Myself," I emphasized. "I'll get Alex to agree to meet me, and then it's up to your people to make sure you get it all on tape or video or whatever. Because I am only doing this one time."

"Great!" Harrell said. He stood up, beaming. "The SAC is gonna be very pleased. And of course, Agent Allgood, I'll call her tonight and give her the good news."

"You do that," I said sourly, standing up and straightening the crease in my trousers.

He looked around the room with interest. "Say, how's that kitchen project of yours coming along? I'd love to see it. I watch all those home handyman shows on television, you know. Always got a little project of my own goin'. Kinda my hobby, you know? Maybe we could exchange restoration tips, like that."

I drew myself up to my full height and rested my fingertips ever so lightly on the sleeve of his starched s.h.i.+rt. "I don't think so, Agent Harrell," I said. "My kitchen is closed for the night."

Tee laughed out loud. "Come on, Jackson, old buddy," he said. "I think the lady has had enough of you. I'll show you to the door."

48.

The three of us were sitting around the kitchen table. I brought out the dust-covered bottle of Jack Daniel's I'd found at the back of the top shelf in the closet in Uncle Norbert's study and held it up for the men's inspection. "The seal's never been broken," I pointed out.

"Your uncle was not a teetotaler," Carter said, "but he was a decidedly frugal man. This bottle was probably a Christmas gift from me, now that I think about it."

I took three tumblers off the kitchen shelf, cracked open a tray of ice cubes, and apportioned four small cubes to each gla.s.s before pouring three fingers' worth of whiskey into each gla.s.s and handing them to my guests.

As for myself, I topped the liquor off with a lot of water before rejoining Tee and Carter.

Carter took a sip of the whiskey and nodded approvingly. "Well, Dempsey," he said finally. "That was quite a performance you gave tonight."

"You were really, really scary looking, with the heels and the hair and all," Tee agreed. "And that suit! I think I felt my b.a.l.l.s shrink a little when you opened that front door."

"Son!" Carter said, trying to look shocked.

"It's all right, Carter," I said, sipping my own whiskey. "I don't know if I would have put it quite that way, but I definitely was trying to a.s.sert myself with Jackson Harrell tonight."

"Because?" Tee said, looking at me quizzically over his gla.s.s.

"No offense, gentlemen," I said, "but I am sick and d.a.m.ned tired of being pushed around by men."

"Your father?" Carter asked sympathetically.

"Camerin Allgood showing up at his office put him over the edge," I said. "He was so angry he was foaming at the mouth when he called tonight. He can't fathom why I haven't been cooperating with the FBI."

"But you have," Carter said. "They're being completely unreasonable."

"As is Mitch," I said. "He's even looked into hiring a new 'top-notch' criminal attorney to represent me."

Carter shrugged and tried not to look hurt. "He's your father. He's concerned about your well-being. It's perfectly understandable. I'd be happy to catch your new attorney up to speed on things, if you'd like."

"I don't want a new attorney," I said quickly. "My father is not concerned with my well-being. He's mainly concerned with his own reputation."

"Surely not," Carter said.

"Don't get me wrong," I said. "My father cares about me. He just doesn't respect me, or my judgment. And let's face it, this mess I've gotten myself into hasn't given him much reason to have confidence in me."

"Your father is an idiot if he thinks you brought this on yourself," Tee said hotly. "Does he know anything about this Alex Hodder character?"

"Tee," Carter said slowly. "I'm not sure it's your place to call Mitch Killebrew an idiot."

"I've called him much worse," I told father and son.

"The thing is," I said, turning to Carter, "I really shouldn't even have asked you to come over here tonight. But I was just so...shaken...when Mitch called to tell me the FBI had come to see him. And then, when Harrell showed up on my doorstep...I just, I don't know, I was terrified."

"You had every right to call me," Carter said rea.s.suringly. "I'm your attorney."

"But your retainer," I started. "The Catfish. Tee said it was totaled. And I don't have any money of my own. Not even any collateral." I looked around the kitchen. "The house is Mitch's. He's paying for all of this."

"The Catfish is far from totaled," Carter said. "Those old Crown Victorias were built to take a beating. I spoke to Shawn at the body shop this afternoon. He's ordered new gla.s.s for the winds.h.i.+elds, and he thinks he can find some other body parts at an auto-salvage yard he knows about down in Jackson. Shawn a.s.sures me he can have the Catfish back to you by the end of the week."

"For real? But how much is that going to cost?"

"Not a thing," Carter said. "Shawn's girlfriend had an unfortunate shoplifting incident a few months ago. I worked things out with the judge and the merchant, and Shawn was truly grateful."

I took a long sip of whiskey, and appreciated the slow burn as I let it trickle down my throat.

I took a deep breath. "There are some things I need to tell you. Both of you. Alexander Hodder is a lot like Mitch Killebrew. I think that's probably what attracted me to him in the first place." I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I didn't dare look at Tee.

"My father is successful and demanding, and my whole life, no matter what I did, I could never quite figure out how to win his approval. When I decided to go to Georgetown, and take out loans to pay for it myself, because he refused to, I really thought I was striking a blow for my own independence. And when I did well in law school, and graduated with honors, I do think Mitch really was proud of me, in his own way.

"Of course," I added, "he was fit to be tied when I told him I was going to become a lobbyist instead of actually practicing law. Stephanie, one of my roommates in D.C.? She said I only became a lobbyist out of a perverse need to p.i.s.s off my father."

I took another sip of Tennessee courage, and plunged ahead with my shameful confession.

"I had job offers from other firms. But as soon as Alex Hodder interviewed me, I knew I'd take the job, if it was offered. It was, and I took it."

The Piaget's watchstrap was starting to chafe. I slipped it off my wrist and set it on the tabletop, well away from our gla.s.ses.

"Alex knew I had a silly schoolgirl crush on him. He deliberately played me along, flirting and flattering me. I knew he was married. I'd met his wife at social functions and at Alex's birthday party. Of course, I convinced myself that their marriage was a sham. In my twisted little fantasy world, I figured one day, she would even give us her blessing and step out of the picture, since Alex and I were so obviously perfect for each other."

I rubbed at the irritated skin on my wrist and glanced up at Carter, and then at Tee.

"Sick, huh?"

"The son of a b.i.t.c.h exploited you," Tee said. He reached into his gla.s.s and pulled out an ice cube. He wrapped it in the paper napkin I'd given him, and taking my hand in his, gently pressed the cold, wet napkin to the reddened skin on my wrist.

I realized that I'd let my story get off track. And it was important that I get back on topic.

"Steph always said I had daddy issues. And she was right. Alex still thinks I have daddy issues. As far as he knows, I'm still the stupid, naive girl who called his cell phone nineteen times the night he fired me. As far as he knows, I'm still desperate for his attention and his approval. Alex underestimates me. And that, hopefully, is going to be his undoing."

Carter raised one of those fluffy white caterpillar eyebrows of his. "Dempsey?"

"Don't worry, Carter," I said. "I've had my wake-up call. In a major way. It's been painful, but totally worth it. I'm stronger and wiser. And just p.i.s.sed off enough to do something about it. I have a plan."

"I have no doubt," Carter drawled. "Of course, I've only known you for a short time, but I can a.s.sure you that I have nothing but admiration for your intelligence, and your tenacity. The thing that brings me pause, however, is what I see as your alarming and emerging capacity as a schemer." He glanced over at Tee, who was still holding my hand in his.

"Son? I would advise you to proceed with all due caution in your relations.h.i.+p with this young woman." He nodded his head in my direction. "I have known her father's maternal family for many years. And I can now tell you, without reservation, that she is a Dempsey, through and through."

Tee nodded gravely. He raised my hand to his lips, and kissed first the back of my hand, and then the palm.

"I'll keep my eye on her," he promised.

49.

Ella Kate was dressed and sitting in a wheelchair when I walked into her hospital room the next morning.

"You took your own sweet time gettin' here," she said, jerking her head meaningfully at the clock that hung on the wall next to the television.

"It's only nine o'clock," I told her, refusing to be badgered. "I had to fill out a lot of paperwork, and the nurse wanted to go over the doctor's discharge orders with me."

Her pale eyes narrowed. "What kinda orders? I'll tell you one thing right now, missy. They ain't puttin' no more tubes up me or in me. No, ma'am. Not no way."

"Relax, Ella Kate," I said. "It's nothing like that." I held up two slips of paper. "Just a couple of prescriptions. One for pain medication, and then something to make your bones stronger. The doctor says you have osteoporosis."

"What I have is bones that are seventy-nine years old," she said tartly. "Unless you've got a ticket for a time machine there, I doubt there's anything anybody can do about that."

"You got me there," I admitted. "I see you're all packed up."

Her bony hands clutched a wrinkled brown paper sack tight in her lap. "I got what I come with, so let's get this show on the road."

For the first time I noticed her apparel. Instead of her usual cotton slacks or housedress, or even a bathrobe, today Ella Kate was dressed in what appeared to be a set of green surgical scrubs so large that they fairly swallowed her.

"Uh, Ella Kate," I said. "Where'd you get the scrubs?"

"You mean these pajamas?" She plucked at the fabric of the collarless top and looked pleased. "Those fools in the emergency room cut my good dress all to pieces. I let 'em know what I thought about that. Raised such a ruckus I made 'em gimme something new to wear home. They're nice and roomy, I'll say that. The britches even have a drawstring."

"Wow," I said. "Comfort and style."

"And free," she said, nodding approvingly. "Now, let's go before somebody decides to stick me with a needle or add something to my bill."

"We're just waiting for an orderly," I said. "They won't let me wheel you out to the car myself."

"Probably afraid I'll sue 'em if something goes wrong," she said darkly. "Which I would. In a heartbeat."

The door to the room opened then, and a tall, thin black woman in white scrubs looked down at her clipboard, and then at Ella Kate.

"Mrs. Timmons? Are you all ready to go home?"