The Justice Game

81

First thing Saturday morning, Kelly called her dad. “Can we talk?” she asked.

“Sure, Kell. What’s up?”

They had talked a few times during the trial, but Kelly was usually so busy that mostly her dad left voice mail messages telling Kelly how proud he was of the way she was handling the case.

Last night, she had decided to call him today and tell him everything she had been hiding for the past seven years. But now that he was actually on the phone, it felt awkward.

“I know you’ve got church tomorrow, but is there any way we could get together for a few minutes? I just really need to see you.”

Kelly knew that Saturday was her dad’s day to fine-tune his sermon. Rule number one in the Starling house: don’t mess with Dad on Saturday. And the drive from Charlottesville to Virginia Beach one way would take nearly four hours.

But her dad must have heard the catch in Kelly’s voice. He said he could be there by two that afternoon. He would get someone else to preach the next day. He had wanted to watch her closing argument anyway.

She backtracked a little and put up some token resistance but it was a done deal.

Early that afternoon, her dad called from the hotel lobby. He came up to Kelly’s room, and she told him everything.

They sat on the edge of the bed, and her dad gently assured her of God’s forgiveness. She cried in his arms for what seemed like an hour.

Jason didn’t arrive at the office on Saturday morning until nearly 9 a.m. After his meeting with Kelly on Friday night, he had gone to the Virginia Beach General Hospital ER. The emergency-room staff had made him wait for an hour before they X-rayed his ribs and did a CT scan of his head. Though he hadn’t lost consciousness, they wanted to be cautious.

The good news was that there was no discernible brain damage, and the ribs were just bruised, not broken. After a few pain pills, Jason managed to get about five hours of sleep.

The pain was back in full force on Saturday morning, but he needed to think clearly, so he stayed away from the pain medication.

“Sleeping Beauty’s in the house!” Bella announced when Jason came in the door. He smiled and grimaced all at once.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

“I got mugged last night in the parking lot,” Jason said. He figured a half-truth would be easier to remember than an outright lie. This elicited lots of sympathy and required about a ten-minute explanation filled with enough small fibs that Jason was sure he’d never be able to tell it the same way again.

Lassiter came out to the reception area about halfway through Jason’s explanation, requiring that Jason repeat it from the beginning. Bella cross-examined Jason for a few minutes and gave unsolicited advice on how to treat his injuries. Eventually, Jason managed to change the subject back to the day’s agenda. Both Lassiter and Bella were anxious to go over feedback from the shadow jury. Proposed jury instructions had to be drafted. And Jason needed to prepare his closing argument.

“How good is Brad Carson?” Jason asked.

The question about her former boss seemed to surprise Bella. “You mean in court?”

“Yeah. Do you think he could come over for a few hours and help me with my closing? I need an outside perspective.”

Bella lit up at the idea. “He’ll come,” she said confidently, “if I have to drag him here myself.”

Before they got down to the day’s business, Bella handed Jason an envelope. “Somebody slid this under the door last night.”

It had Jason’s name on it and it was marked personal and confidential. Jason recognized his dad’s handwriting. “I’ll meet you guys in the conference room in a minute,” Jason said.

He went into his office, closed the door, and ripped the envelope open. His hands shook a little as he read the one-page note. When we get together, it usually doesn’t turn out the way I planned, so I thought I would leave this note instead. I’m sorry about Thursday night. I don’t remember everything I said, but I remember enough to apologize for it. I think I’ve helped about as much as I can. I wish you trusted me enough to tell me what’s really going on. Watching you do your thing this week and getting to know Case has been good.

I want you to know that I’m proud of you. I’m going back to Atlanta and I’m going to get help. Thursday night was the last straw. I thought about staying for the verdict but I realized that I’m a distraction. The best thing I can do for you is get better. Maybe after a few weeks in rehab, you’ll get your old man back. Maybe we could get together then. Good luck. Dad

Jason stared at the note for a long time. He wasn’t really sure how he should react. He knew how it made him feel-thankful, proud, confused. He tried dialing his dad’s number but ended up in voice mail. Later in the day he would call both his sister and Matt Corey. But for now, he just stared at the letter and read a single line over and over and over.

I want you to know that I’m proud of you.

His dad needed help, and today he had finally admitted it. Maybe in a few weeks, they really could get together. Maybe there was hope.

So long as Jason didn’t blow it all up by forcing Luthor’s hand.

Jason thought about how hard it had been to write the intervention letter to his dad a few months ago. For the Noble family men, swallowing your pride and being vulnerable did not come easy. It must have been even harder for his dad to write this letter. But admitting that he had an addiction was the first step toward recovery.

What kind of son would turn on his dad at a time like this?