I Married a Billionaire: Lost and Found(48)

They called Kelly down after a while, and she came promptly, looking no more unkempt than she had when we met, despite it being the middle of the night. She shook Daniel’s hand while attempting a smile in my direction. "I’m not going to say ’I told you so,’" she deadpanned.

"I appreciate everything you’ve done for us," he said, as she collapsed in a chair. "Even if I didn’t exactly…know about it until today."

"You’re welcome," said Kelly. "I have to admit, most spouses don’t take this kind of news so well, in my experience." She sipped at her coffee, thoughtfully. "Then again, that might be because I mostly handle infidelity cases."

Daniel let out a little snort of laughter, and I found myself laughing too.

After we’d gone every everything with three different officers what felt like a thousand times, I was pretty sure all we’d done was thoroughly confuse everyone. They kept informing us that the insider trading issue was a pending federal investigation, no matter how many times we said we already knew. The captain kept shaking his head and saying he’d have to SEC, or maybe the FBI, and then he finally let us all go home.

The gray dawn light was just beginning to creep over the city as we shuffled, bleary-eyed, through the streets. Once we all remembered that we hadn’t eaten since lunch, we all sat in a diner for a while, filling out stomachs with greasy food until we’d unwound enough to yawn our way home.

I barely remembered most of the drive back. I could only hope that Daniel was more alert; we made it home without incident, at least, so he must have been in better shape than I was.

I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.





***

I woke up with a start. The clock said 2:36 PM.

I had been thinking - or dreaming - I wasn’t sure which, really, but after going through every single detail of this nightmare with the police, there were two things that still didn’t sit right with me. Number one, the hostile judge. Number two, if Brewer were really telling the truth about how Flo and the plaintiffs from the old lawsuit met, how did the whole thing start? Was it her idea, and hers alone? If so, where did she get the money?




I sat down with a notepad and pen, and started to write. I had to just get my thoughts out of my head somehow, no matter how ridiculous they might be.

First of all, there was the judge. Even Ms. Greenlee, who seemed to know him personally, was shocked by his behavior. He didn’t normally conduct himself in that way. So what was it about this case that had put him in such a mood?

Judicial bias was a serious accusation, I knew. If I wanted to pursue this, I was going to need some serious evidence. But it was no more than a whim at this point, so much so that I hesitated to even tell Kelly about it. Where would she even start?

I drummed my fingers on the table for a while. Of course, most of a judge’s life would be a matter of public record. I could conduct my own investigation. And if I didn’t find anything, well, I didn’t find anything. But if I did…

I shook my head. What did I think I was going to find, exactly? Any bias would have to be on paper for me to prove it, and the far likelier scenario - that he simply didn’t like Daniel - wasn’t exactly a punishable offense. But there was something there. A hunch I just couldn’t shake.

And then, there was the question of who exactly started this whole mess. As much as I wanted to think Flo was the mastermind of it all, she seemed a little too…unstable. Then again, when we’d worked together, she’d managed to convince me that she was normal.

I chewed on the end of my pen, finally pulling out my phone and typing in the judge’s name. As I’d suspected, there was a sea of results - from elections, news blurbs, and everything else under the sun. It was an impressive array of information - everything about his family, his background, his voting record from when he was in congress - which I’m sure would have been vastly helpful, if only I could figure out if it meant anything.

Just when my eyes were starting to glaze over, something jumped out at me. I’d probably glossed over it a hundred times, but for some reason, this time it stuck.

Member of the University of Dartwood Alumni Association

Daniel had gone to Dartwood.

And so, by extension, had the plaintiffs in the old lawsuit.

It was probably a coincidence. It almost had to be, but for some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it mattered. If the judge had some prior connection with the other plaintiffs, or even some prior knowledge of the case, it could be enough to sour him on Daniel forever.

I didn’t know enough about the legal precedents to be sure if this was enough to prove a serious breach of judicial ethics, but I figured it must be enough to at least get us reassigned with a new judge, if nothing else. That was, if I could demonstrate any more meaningful connection than all of them simply having gone to the same college.

Daniel finally shuffled out of bed a few hours later, raking his hand through his hair and thumbing blearily through his collection of takeout menus. I realized my stomach was growling.

"Any requests?" he wanted to know.

"Anything." I waited until he’d gotten off the phone with the Greek place up the street, then gestured for him to come sit down. He did, glancing at me sidelong.

"Look," I said. "There’s this thing about the judge. I know you didn’t want to pursue it, but…"