Allison Brennan - See No Evil

All adult criminal cases were stored in the computer system, so she could access those from her office. Though she was on administrative leave, Stanton hadn’t asked for her ID or keys.

The juvenile files, on the other hand, were not on the network.

The files were sorted by year, then case number. Pulling them was easy. Some were surprisingly thick. She went to the copy room and shut the door, locking it. Her heart beat too loud, the truth of her deception hitting her. It wasn’t just her career on the line, but that of an overworked county bureaucrat and everyone else who was helping her, including Frisco, who promised a copy of the autopsy report in her desk drawer before the end of the day.

She fed dollars into the copy machine and quickly copied the pertinent pages, not spending too much time reading them because she needed to put them back before Selene returned.

One name caught her eye.

Jason Ridge.

Why was that familiar? She glanced at the summary page. Deferred Entry of Judgment-DEJ. Nearly two years ago after a juvenile court trial resulted in a guilty verdict, the judge issued a sentence of Deferred Entry of Judgment, which basically told Jason that as long as he behaved until he was eighteen his record would be expunged.

Jason had gone back to court the week after his eighteenth birthday and the judge wiped his record clean.

According to the records, Jason’s psychiatrist, Dr. Garrett Bowen, testified on his behalf. But these were Bowen’s records, not the court’s, and there was no transcript. She needed to find out exactly what the court said, but it wasn’t in this file.

Because it had been expunged already? She’d never get it if that were the case. Unless one of the attorneys involved still had a copy.

Jason Ridge. Now she remembered why she knew his name, even though it was a juvenile court case. Eight months ago, first game of the season, he had died on the football field for apparently no reason. An autopsy showed steroids in his system and the cause of death was heart failure. She remembered the news story only because it was another example of a young life cut short.

She copied his entire file, though it was much thinner than it should have been. She could ask around, find out who the judge and prosecutor were on the case, but that would get back to Stanton and her job would be in jeopardy. She had to find another way to get the information she needed.

She put the files back when she was done. Selene was at her desk working on the computer.

“Thanks,” Julia whispered as she passed, the copies secure in her briefcase.

“Ms. Chandler, I didn’t know you were here. Do you need anything?”

Julia was confused, then saw two of her colleagues at a table only feet away looking at files. “No, just returning a file.”

“Thanks.”

Julia practically ran out of the building, heart pounding. If Andrew Stanton knew what she’d done, she’d be severely reprimanded. Possibly fired. And the bar wouldn’t look too kindly on her pulling juvenile files and copying them. She’d have her license to practice suspended. Or worse, be prosecuted.

She gathered her wits while sitting in her car. She pulled out her cell phone and called Connor.

His voice mail picked up.

“Dammit,” she said, irritated. “Do you deliberately not answer my calls? I have the files and am going home. You have the address.” She hung up. She shouldn’t get angry with him, but she wished he would just pick up for once. He probably saw her number on his cell phone and ignored it.

First, she stopped by her office. Her secretary was still there. “Donnell,” she said, “I have a favor.”

Donnell glanced around, tucked her hair behind her ear. “Anything.”

“Can you print out these files for me? I’ll pick them up tomorrow.”

Julia slid the list of Victor’s cases across Donnell’s desk.

“I’ll bring them to your house.”

“You don’t-”

Donnell nodded. “Stanton ordered me to tell him if you came by.”

“Shit.” Julia ran a hand through her hair. “Fine, I’m here to get my address book. Tell him that. ”

“I will. Oh, and Frisco came by. He didn’t say why.”

Julia went into her office and looked in her top desk drawer. There was a file folder with Frisco’s small, perfect print. Julia Chandler, Privileged and Confidential.

Thank you, Frisco.

Dillon learned from Bowen’s secretary that the doctor was having lunch at the La Jolla Country Club, but before he could head out there, his ex-brother-in-law Andrew Stanton called him.

“I need you in my office now.”

Dillon almost refused. “I’m heading out to an appointment. How about we meet-?”

“Dillon, you’ve crossed the line. You brought Connor into Emily Montgomery’s room knowing full well she’s a suspect in a murder investigation who is only being stopped from a police interview because of her physician’s order. You. And I can-and will-get a court order inside of an hour to have Emily Montgomery moved to the criminal psychiatric unit and put under another doctor’s care if you don’t explain yourself to me in person right now.”

Dillon’s hand hurt from clutching the phone so tight. “Don’t threaten me, Andrew. And don’t threaten my patient.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“It’s no game.”

Dillon felt the tension through the phone.

“Ten minutes,” Andrew finally said.

“In the rose garden.” Dillon wasn’t going to give Andrew the power to sit behind his desk. It was psychological, and Dillon wouldn’t be deterred by Andrew’s power play. Also, Andrew would be less forthcoming in his own office.

Dillon was already near the courthouse, so he parked on the street, fed the meter a couple quarters, and walked to the small rose garden outside the justice building.

Andrew approached at the same time, dressed impeccably, with the aura of importance befitting a man of his position. Dillon saw the pain behind his eyes. Maybe he was the only one who saw it, and maybe that’s why he was the only one in the Kincaid family who still had a relationship with his former brother-in-law. It wasn’t that Dillon’s parents and siblings doubted Andrew’s pain at the loss of his son, it was what had come out about Andrew’s life after Justin’s murder that had turned the family against him.

Dillon harbored a lot of pain from his nephew Justin’s murder-Andrew and Nell’s only son. It changed him in ways he was still discovering now, eleven years later. But unlike Connor, he couldn’t put all the blame on Andrew Stanton, however much he’d like to. The truth was no one was to blame. It was a brutal crime committed by a child predator who had most likely moved on to another city and state to minimize his chances of being caught.

Dillon regularly checked the FBI database for like crimes. He still hoped that, someday, justice would be served.

“I’m ready to deal,” Andrew said.

And Dillon knew then the case wasn’t solid.

“Deal what?”

“Plead her out.”

“I’m not her attorney.”

“You can get the message to Iris Jones.”

“Andrew, do you honestly think Emily is guilty?”

“Yes.”

“She couldn’t have acted alone.”

“She turns in her friends and we’ll be lenient.”

“She says she didn’t have anything to do with Victor’s murder.”

Andrew sighed. “I have evidence that she planned it. Premeditated murder. I will try her as an adult.”

“I know what you have and we can take it apart.”

Andrew’s jaw clenched. “Dillon, you don’t know what’s going on in my building.”

“I have an idea. Judge murdered. You want to nail someone outside the justice system. You don’t want your judges feeling the pressure of their actions, that a criminal, someone they put away, can get to them. What happened with Santos?”