Every Last Fear(11)

Keller sat at the small kitchen table as Bob pulled a wineglass from the cupboard and placed it in front of her. He displayed the bottle and, in a fake French accent, said, “Only the finest from the Trader Joe’s collection.” He filled the glass.

Keller swirled the wine, then put her nose in the glass before taking a taste and swishing it in her mouth. “It’s no Whole Foods 2019, but it will do.”

He sat beside her. “Long day, huh?”

Keller exhaled heavily. “I took him upstate to Fishkill prison so he could tell his brother.”

“How’s he doing?”

Keller took a drink of the wine. “He’s twenty-one. His parents and little brother and sister are dead, and his older brother’s in prison. And let’s not forget the media circus.”

Bob listened as Keller told him about her very long day.

“I just kept thinking of his family,” Keller said. “The little boy was the same age as the twins.”

Bob put his hand on his wife’s. “Speaking of, it’s a bit too quiet in there. I’ll be right back.” He left the kitchen to check on the kids. He returned carrying Heather in one arm, Michael in the other, both fast asleep.

“Ahh, I wanted to cuddle them,” Keller said.

“Look on the bright side. Were you really up for Frozen again?”

Bob carried the twins to their bedrooms. When he made it back to the kitchen, Keller said, “I’m sorry I’ve been working so much lately.”

“Don’t you apologize.”

Keller drained the rest of her glass.

“Do you think there’s a connection with the father’s accounting firm?” Bob asked as he poured her a refill.

Keller’s money-laundering investigation into Marconi LLP was the only reason she’d been dragged into this mess with the Pines.

“I doubt it. Evan Pine wasn’t a big player at the firm. He was only on my interview list because he’d been fired,” Keller said. Fired employees were always the most willing to dish dirt.

“It’s a big coincidence, though,” Bob said. “The firm is in bed with the cartel, and the family dies in Mexico.”

“That’s what Fisher said, but it’s a stretch. He’s just using the connection to get us involved with a high-profile case, curry favor with State and headquarters.”

“So you think it was just an accident?”

“I didn’t say that.”





Excerpt From

A Violent Nature

Season 1/Episode 3

“You Fucking Idiots”

BLACK SCREEN

The sound of a murmuring crowd is broken by THE JUDGE’S voice announcing the jury has reached a verdict. FADE IN ON:

INT. COURTROOM VIDEO FOOTAGE

The judge reads the verdict, and the spectator section is a mix of cheers and sobbing. The judge calls for order, when a man rises. He’s pointing angrily at the judge, then the prosecutor, the defense lawyer, his finger landing on the jury box.

EVAN PINE

You fucking idiots! Shame on you, shame on all of you.

JUDGE

Order! I will not have outbursts in this courtroom.

EVAN

He’s innocent. You fools. You fucking idiots!

TWO SECURITY OFFICERS confront Evan Pine, a struggle ensues, and he’s dragged from the courtroom.

EVAN

He’s innocent. My son is innocent!





CHAPTER 8


EVAN PINE


BEFORE

Evan examined the wild-eyed man with curiosity. With the wrinkled shirt and unruly hair, the man looked like one of those homeless street preachers who hold Mass outside the subway. Or an angry cable news pundit on a bender.

“With the advent of DNA,” the man ranted, “we learned something that people still just don’t seem to get: we lock up a shocking number of innocents. And you know what? About a quarter of them confessed. So when people say innocent people don’t confess to crimes they didn’t commit, well, it’s horseshit. And teenagers falsely confess at rates much higher than adults. They just tell the police what they want to hear. One study of people exonerated through DNA found that forty percent were kids who falsely confessed.…”

Evan clicked the mouse on his laptop and paused Netflix. Horseshit. It wasn’t a word he’d normally use. But there Evan was, for twenty million viewers to see. He’d once made the mistake of reading the comments section on one of the forums for the documentary.

The father has lost his shit.

He’s so devastated, he can’t see straight.

Free Danny Pine!

Boo fucking hoo, I hope his son rots for what he did to that poor girl.



Off-camera, the documentary filmmakers, Judy and Ira Adler, were quietly stoking Evan’s flame. They meant well, the Adlers. They believed Danny was innocent. But in the aftermath, Evan couldn’t help being angry with them. For exploiting their private lives for public entertainment. For getting his hopes up. He clicked the mouse, and his face was animated again.

A voice spoke from off-screen—Judy’s. “But if Danny wasn’t involved, how did he know that Charlotte’s head had been crushed with a rock?”

“He didn’t know anything,” Evan replied, angry at the question. “Those two cops, they fed him all the details. Watch the tape, for Christ’s sake.”