William Bernhardt - Cruel Justice

Mike Morelli was her first husband—and Ben’s old college buddy, currently a homicide detective with the Tulsa PD. “Did I? He thinks I took your side.”

“Well, he’s wrong. As usual.”

Ben diverted his attention to the infant. “He’s a cute little guy, isn’t he?”

“Oh yeah. And very advanced for his age. He can already pull himself up in his crib. He’ll be walking in another month or two. Here, why don’t you hold him?”

“Oh, no,” Ben said quickly. ‘That’s all right.”

“Come on, Ben. He’s your nephew. He won’t break. Hold him a second.”

Ben reluctantly extended his arms. It wasn’t anything personal against Joey. Ben just didn’t know the slightest thing about babies. He didn’t even know where to place his hands.

“No, no,” Julia said, “like this. He can hold up his head now, but you still need to brace his body.”

Ben contorted in accordance with her directions. Joey gazed up at his uncle and made a strange gurgling noise.

“See?” Julia said. “He likes you.”

“If you say so.”

“Tickle his lower lip. He loves that.”

Ben did as instructed. The baby did seem to smile a bit.

“ ’Scuse me, sir.”

Ben turned. It was the black man he and Jones had spotted outside. He stood unevenly, leaning heavily on his right leg. “My name’s Ernest Hayes. Friends call me Ernie. Sorry to interrupt, but I’m wantin’ to talk with you ‘bout handlin’ a case—”

“Right,” Ben said. “I’d be happy to do it.”

The man blinked. “Jus’ like that?”

“Sure. My pleasure.”

Ernie hesitated. “I gotta be honest with you, Mr. Kincaid. I ain’t got much money.”

“Not a problem. I’ll do it on a contingency fee. My assistant will give you some forms to fill out—terms, provisions, and so on. There are standard percentages for cases of this sort. Here, I’ll sign now.” Ben scrawled his name on the bottom of one of the forms. “We’ll talk about the details when I get back from court.”

“Land sakes. This was even easier than I thought it would be.”

Ben winked at Jones. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kincaid. I’m attempting to be patient, but this is truly the limit.”

It was Scofield again. “You know,” Ben said, “if your air conditioner was half as resilient as you are, I wouldn’t be standing here worrying about the baby sniffing my sweaty pits.”

Scofield appeared shocked. “Really! If this is your idea of humor—”

“Can’t you leave me alone for a minute? I’m bonding with my nephew.”

“I hate to interrupt any familial bonding,” Jones said, “but you seem to keep forgetting about your trial.”

“Yikes! What time does it start?”

“Nine A.M.” Jones glanced at his Mickey Mouse watch. “That would be exactly five minutes ago.”

“Jiminy Christmas!” Ben shouldered Scofield aside, using the baby to run interference. “Julia, I hate to make goo-goo faces and run, but—”

He froze in his tracks. “ Julia? ”

Ben whirled around, but Julia was gone. Without a trace.

And he was left holding the baby.

2

“WHERE’D SHE GO?” Ben screeched.

One of the briefcase brigadiers guarding the front door offered an explanation. “She left. Got in a green convertible and drove away.”

“Drove away? You’re kidding!”

“Why would I kid? Looked like she was going somewhere in a hurry.”

Ben cast his eyes upward. “This is so like Julia. Only she could leave and forget to take her baby. I don’t believe this!”

Jones rose from his desk. “Stay calm, Boss.”

“Stay calm? How can I stay calm? I’m due in court. And my sister disappears and leaves me with this—this—” He looked down at the bundle in his arms.

Joey’s tiny blue eyes suddenly widened. After gazing up at his uncle’s face for a second or two, he began to wail.

“Omigosh.” Ben pulled the baby up to his face. “I didn’t mean anything—I mean—don’t take it personal, but I have this court date, see. …”

“He’s seven months old, Boss. I don’t think he understands about court dates.”

“Oh, jeez.” Ben swung the baby back and forth in a herky-jerky manner. The wailing attained an all-time-high decibel level. Ben awkwardly cradled Joey in his arms and tried to prop him against his chest. The bawling continued, but went into decrescendo.

“Jones, he’s crying!”

“I noticed, Boss. We all did.”

“Did I hurt his feelings somehow?”

“More likely he has a wet diaper.”

Ben held the baby out at arm’s length. “Really?”

“Or maybe he’s hungry. Beats me.”

“Well, you’re the would-be detective. Detect already.”

Jones rummaged through the red diaper bag Julia had left on the floor. “Here’s some toys. Lots, actually. Say, this is nifty stuff.”

“Jones, stop playing with the baby toys!”

“Oh, right.” He continued searching. “Several outfits of clothes.” He frowned. “And diapers. Dozens of diapers. Hmmm.”

“What do you mean, hmmm ?”

“What I mean is,” Jones said slowly, “I don’t think Julia left him behind by mistake.”

“What are you saying?”

“Remember? Julia said she wanted to start that graduate program in Connecticut, but there was a problem? The problem was, she had a seven-month-old baby.” Jones clasped Ben on the shoulder. “So she left the baby with Uncle Ben.”

“With me ?” Ben’s face flushed. “But—I can’t have a baby. I’m a lawyer!” He looked down at Joey. His cheeks were puffy and red and streaked with tears. “I’m sorry, little guy. If I knew why you were crying, I’d do something about it. But I don’t.” Ben looked up abruptly. “Here, Jones. Take him.”

“ Me ? I don’t know nothin’ ’bout holdin’ babies.”

“Well, learn. I have to get to court!”

“What am I going to do with him? This is a law office—sort of. Not a day-care center.”

Ben pressed the baby against Jones’s chest. Joey’s sporadic sobs reverted to a full-throttled wail. “You’re a resourceful guy, Jones. You’ll think of something. I’ve got to get to the courthouse before Judge Hart holds me in contempt.”

Jones cautiously took the infant into his arms. “Boy, Boss … if I do this …”

“I know. I’ll owe you.”

“You already owe me. We’re now talking about a debt the magnitude of which most men have never contemplated.”

After a five-minute sprint in the sweltering downtown heat, Ben made it to the Tulsa County Courthouse at Fifth and Denver. The courthouse elevators were the oldest and slowest in all creation, and Ben couldn’t afford to wait around, so he panted up the stairs to the sixth floor. Breathing heavily, he slid through the doors to the Honorable Sarah Hart’s courtroom, hoping he could enter unnoticed.

No such luck. “Mr. Kincaid,” the judge said, the instant he stepped through the door. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence.”

“Sorry, Judge. I was unavoidably delayed.”

Judge Hart nodded. “Creditor problems again?”

“Uh, no.” Well, not entirely, anyway. “Someone brought me a baby.”

“A baby?” Hart lowered the glasses on her nose. “Does this relate to some previously undisclosed episode in your past?”

Ben smiled. Hart could be a tough judge, but at least she had a sense of humor. “No, ma’am. It relates to the dangers of being a member of a family.”

“You’ll forgive me if I fail to follow up on this intriguing dialogue, but the assistant district attorney is anxious to continue the trial. I believe you know Mr. Bullock. So you know how insistent he can be.”