William Bernhardt - Naked Justice

Naked Justice

A Ben Kincaid Novel of Suspense (Book Six)

William Bernhardt

A MysteriousPress.com

Open Road Integrated Media

Ebook

Once again, for Kirsten,

because she deserves it

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child, but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

SAINT PAUL, 1 CORINTHIANS 13:11

Prologue

AS THE BARRETT FAMILY drove from City Hall to the ice-cream parlor, they could scarcely have imagined that soon thousands, if not millions, of people would be scrutinizing, criticizing, and debating what really happened during those final hours.

I want chocolate chip! Alysha shrieked, with the breathless anticipation only an eight-year-old confronted with the prospect of ice cream can muster.

Now, honey, said Caroline Barrett, Alyshas mother, you know chocolate stains your clothes. Why dont you get vanilla?

Want chocolate. Chocolate! Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate!

Me too, chirped Annabelle, Alyshas baby sister.

They both looped their arms over the front seat of the car. Daddy, we want chocolate! Can we have chocolate?

Daddy was a large, broad-shouldered black man who still had essentially the same physique hed had fifteen years ago when he played college football. Sure, sweethearts. Whatever you want.

Caroline glared at him. What do you think youre doing?

Honey, its just ice cream.

It is not just ice cream. Youre undermining my authority.

Oh, honey

This is what you always do. You make me play the heavy so you can be the fairy godfather!

He glanced at the children in the backseat. Lets not do this here.

Dont tell me when I may or may not talk. This is an important issue. Youre sending all the wrong messages.

Daddys jaw stiffened. The only message Im sending is that they can have whatever kind of ice cream they want. He pulled into the parking lot across from the Baskin-Robbins.

Youre teaching our children that they dont have to obey me. That they can get whatever they want by running to Daddy.

This is ridiculous. He popped open the car door and slid out of the drivers seat. Alysha jumped toward him as he reached across the backseat and released four-year-old Annabelle from her car seat.

Carrying both girls in his strong arms, he strode across the parking lot to the Baskin-Robbins. Caroline remained several steps behind.

Honey, he said, why dont you pop into Novel Idea and check out the new books? I can handle this.

She gave him a stony look. Youd like that, wouldnt you?

He sighed, then carried the girls into the ice-cream parlor.

The man behind the counter, who was wearing a white apron and a white paper cap, rose to attention and saluted. Afternoon, Mr. Mayor.

Afternoon, Art. Howre you doing?

Cant complain.

Hows Jenny? And that smart little boy of yours?

Oh, theyre fine, sir. Just fine.

Alysha and Annabelle approached the front counter, pressed their noses against the glass, and surveyed the rich variety of flavors.

All right, little ladies, the man behind the counter said, what can I get you?

The two girls looked at each other, then turned their eyes slowly back toward their parents. There was a pronounced silence. Art, the scoop man, would later testify that he had never felt such tension in the air, particularly when the only question pending was what flavor ice cream to order.

Get whatever you want, girls, Daddy said finally.

Except, Caroline added, laying emphasis on each word, chocolate.

Honey

Dont start with me, Wallace. Dont start.

Wallace Barrett threw up his hands. Well, I dont see the point of telling them they can have a special treat and then not letting them get what they want.

I told them they couldnt have chocolate. We have to be consistent.

This isnt consistent. This is just mean.

Oh, right. And you, their great hero, are going to ride in and save them from their heartless mother. Is that it?

No, but

Im tired of being treated like what I say doesnt matter! Her voice was rising; her eyes were red and watery. You cant just trample over me like a tight end on the opposing team. I deserve some respect!

Wallace Barretts eyes moved from the ice-cream man to the four customers standing nearby. Caroline, he whispered, youre creating a scene.

Do you think I care? Her voice became thin and shrill. Do you think I care what people think? This is important to me.

I thought we were talking about the children.

You were wrong. This is about me. But the only way I can get to you is through them! You dont give a damn about me!

His face seemed to solidify. His eyes narrowed to near invisibility and his cheekbones twitched. Shut up.

Dont tell me what to do, you selfish pig! Youre not mayor over me.

Im warning you

Go to hell.

Shut up!

His voice boomed through the small store like a thunderbolt from Olympus. The other customers jumped away, startled. Witnesses would later say that time seemed suspended for the next several seconds, as if everything was happening in a horrifying slow motion. His voice reverberated along the walls and the ceiling, and as it did, Wallace Barrett reared his thick, muscled arm back, then jerked it forward with a practiced quarterback snap. His fist hurtled around, splitting the air like a knife, moving with impossible speed toward his wifes beautiful ebony face. Her eyes widened in sudden, paralyzing fear, a fear so vivid and immediate that everyone agreed she must have experienced it many times before. She was terrified, but there was no time to move, no time even to scream, before

His fist stopped barely an inch from her face.

They stared at one another, their eyes locked together. The large woman eating the brownie sundae would later describe the sentiment conveyed as pure, undisguised hatred.

Youll regret this, Wallace Barrett said in the barest of whispers. His arm was still suspended in the air. It began to tremble, and the trembling spread up his neck to his face, then throughout the rest of his body.

At last his arm dropped to his side. Cmon, girls, he said. Lets go home.

They scampered toward him. But, Daddy

No whining. Lets go.

But, Daddy Annabelle insisted.

Barretts hand swept around in a wide arc and popped her once on the backside. She quieted immediately.

Well come back later, Art, Wallace Barrett said. Im sorry.

He carried his girls out of the ice-cream parlor. A few awkward moments later, Caroline Barrett followed.

As soon as she was gone, everyone in the store released a communal sigh of relief. Art went on about his business and tried to forget the incidentuntil later, when the hordes descended on his little store, prying and probing and offering him large sums of money to remember.

The girls did not return later. Not Alysha or Annabelle, or for that matter, Caroline. Because only a few hours later, they were all dead.

One

Ill Be Judge, Ill Be Jury

Chapter 1

BEN KINCAID STARED BLANKLY at the woman in the black robe, not quite certain he had heard her correctly.

Judge Sarah L. Hart cleared her throat. I repeat: What else would she be doing with a frozen fish?

Oh, Ben murmured. Thats what I thought you said.

The judge smiled. Cant you help me out here?

Of course, Ben mused silently, if he could have, he would have. Some time ago. Judge Hart had an unerring knack for cutting to the heart of the matter. That, he knew, was why she was one of the best judges in Tulsa County. Of course there were times when you didnt necessarily want the best judge in Tulsa County