Possession of Justice

Possession of Justice, Chapter One

Chapter One

Emma McLane expected the worst from her husband; a belligerent tirade, a drunken rant, or cold indifference.  What she did not expect was to find him gone.  Just like that, with nothing missing from his personal effects, no note, and no clues as to why.

She anticipated coming home from a day of writing the brief of all briefs, her summary judgment motion in the Kramer case, to find Ethan holed up in the office with a scowl staining his once handsome face.  Her usual response would be to slink off to the kitchen, pour herself a glass of wine to ease the familiar sting of loneliness. Then she would start some semblance of a dinner to share with her son, four-year-old Ryan.  By then Ryan would be starved for affection, having spent an afternoon cowering from his moody father, if he wasn’t lucky enough to have Amy watch him.

But today was different. Amy, her part-time nanny who also happened to be her friend, was at the zoo with Ryan, and would not be back for another hour. Emma paused in the entryway to her West Seattle home listening for the familiar clicking sounds of Ethan on the computer working on his internet startup website, trying to get back to his high-flying days of glory.  No sound came from the office. Perhaps, he was in the bedroom sleeping off a mid-afternoon imbibing.  He was not in either place, nor was he out on the deck enjoying his recently acquired habit of cigar smoking. 

“Ethan?” She inquired of the empty house, hoping for silence in return. Her wish was granted. Only Duffy the cat made a sound, jumping from a chair to answer what he deigned to be a request for his presence. She stroked him absent-mindedly. Duffy purred nonetheless; convinced he was the center of the universe. The thick grey housecat gazed up at her with his shrewd green eyes and meowed hoarsely. Emma sighed peacefully and assumed Ethan was out on an errand.  She now had time to herself without his glowering presence.

Upstairs in her bedroom, Emma slipped off her jacket and stepped out of her skirt and heels.  She sat on the edge of her bed, feeling pure pleasure as the bottoms of her feet met the soft carpet.  She unbuttoned her blouse and removed her bra, delighting in the feel of cool air on her skin. Emma lay back on the downy comforter and stared at the ceiling, composing in her head the arguments for her motion based on the case law she read before leaving the office.
Emma stretched her arms above her head and yawned.  Her cell phone rang downstairs.  She jumped up and threw on her robe.  Running down the stairs, she caught it at the last ring before the call went to voicemail.

“Hello.” 

“Hi, Emma.”  It was Brad, her brother-in-law.

“Hey Brad, what’s up?” Emma tried not to sigh too loudly.

“Have you seen Ethan?  I’ve been trying to reach him all day.”

“No.  I just got home.” She felt resentment at this intrusion into her solitude.  Brad was not a bad guy; he just had a way of being apologetic for Ethan’s behavior while at the same time encouraging him in the type of risky pursuits that had brought about Ethan’s current circumstances.

“Okay, yeah, yeah…I know…sorry…It’s just, well…I’ve been trying to call him all day, and we had plans.  Pretty solid plans.  It’s strange he would be AWOL, you know?”  Brad seemed to want reassurance from her.

“Yeah, that does sound strange.  Well, I can’t tell you where he is.”  Nor do I care, Emma said to herself.  “But I will let him know you called when I see him.”

Brad hesitated.  “Okay.  This just doesn’t seem normal, though.  I’m a little worried.” 

What was normal when it came to Ethan?  “Well, try not to worry.  I’m sure there’s an explanation.  Maybe something came up.  What were your plans today, anyway?”  She did not really care, but it might provide a clue.

Brad paused.  “Well, we’re just working on a business opportunity.  You know how it is.”  His tone was contrite.

“Yeah, Brad.  I know how it is.  Well, I got to start dinner.  Like I said, I’ll tell him you’re trying to reach him when I see him.”

Ending the call, she deposited her phone on the hallway table and sauntered to the kitchen, determined to have dinner underway before Amy brought Ryan home.  She pulled some chicken breast, peppers, onions and carrots from the refrigerator to stir fry.  As she turned to grab a chopping knife from the block, she caught sight of the door at the end of the kitchen that led to the back of the house.  It stood slightly ajar.  Ethan was religious about these things; it was strange that he left the house without securing it.  Emma did not remember a time that Ethan had ever done that.  He had a strange paranoia that at any given minute someone would walk through the door and rob the McLane family blind.  The only possession precious enough to warrant that level of fear in Emma was Ryan.

Emma walked to the back door and opened it all the way, looking out at the backyard.  Nothing seemed out of order.  Emma shut the door and locked it self-consciously.  Returning to the chopping block, Emma was caught somewhere between puzzlement and the heady thrill of quietude.  She did not want Ethan home.  Even his silences were loud and oppressive.  But something seemed strange; she was just not sure how to appropriately care.  Surely a loving wife would call his cell phone and at least leave a message. She felt no urge.

God, when had it gone so very wrong?  Emma sliced the chicken into strips and tossed them into a pan of hot oil.  She sliced the carrots, onion and peppers and added them to the chicken.  She looked at her watch.  It was only 6:30.  Amy called her earlier to tell her they would be back around 7:00.  As she prepared the rice, Emma fought off a sense of foreboding.  Ignoring it, she sat at the kitchen table and sipped a glass of Shiraz while the rice cooked.  She focused her mind on her brief that was due in two days.  She could not afford to be scattered right now.  This case may very well make, or break, her career at Thompson Barnes Wright, or at least have the power to relegate her back to lead researcher with chronic second chair status.

Emma thought back to the day Dwayne Barnes sauntered into her office and assigned the Kramer case to her.  Never had she felt so excited and so afraid at the same time.  It was an excessive force case involving a wrongful shooting, and Thompson Barnes Wright represented the victim’s family.  The alleged negligent party was one of Seattle’s finest, a cop.  The victim was a young man in his mid-twenties with a once bright future.  Now Alex Kramer could not feed himself or form sentences, and was as dependent as an infant. The case was potentially a slam dunk, with some troublesome factors involving contributory negligence and public outrage that might prove thorny in trial.  Settlement was the desired route, and Emma’s goal was to craft a compelling summary judgment brief that would theoretically bring opposing counsel to their knees. In doing so, she would insure that her clients, and the firm, received a fair and lucrative settlement.  Dwayne Barnes assigned her a rain maker, and it was up to her to prove she could summon the rain from the clouds with her brilliant skill as a litigator.

The deadline for summary judgment was here, and she had three days to perfect her arguments and seal her client’s position for settlement.  Her plan for the evening was to feed and bathe Ryan, put him to bed with a kiss and a prayer, and then barricade herself in her bedroom office for the rest of the night.  Ethan’s strange absence was an annoying snag in her planned evening.  It left her feeling unsettled.  Lately, he was home every night, working away, or drinking away, in his office.  When he came out it usually resulted in an argument or angry silence.

It had not always been this way.  A familiar feeling of melancholy drifted through her as she remembered the Ethan she met when she was 22; a chance meeting at a random deli.  Their eyes met, and the sparkle of life she saw in him set a fire within her.  From that moment on, Ethan pursued her relentlessly, and she could not resist the intensity of his desire. The passion in those early days was unparalleled by anything she had experienced since. 

But after what happened between them later, with so much water under the bridge, and so much that seemed beyond repair, it was too difficult to reconcile the Ethan of her early twenties with the Ethan who slept beside her now.  She was not sure they were the same person.  But, dear God, she had loved him.  Loved.

What the Hell do I feel now? Emma attempted to shrug the nostalgia off, determined to focus on her brief.  Her legal argument had some critical portions that needed to be fleshed out and she desperately needed tonight to pull it together.  Where is Ethan?

Lost in her thoughts, she was startled when the front door burst open and she heard Ryan’s eager footfall on the hardwood floor as he clattered his way to the kitchen.

“Mom!  Mom?” His sweet and eager voice filled her ears and heart.

“Sweetie!  I’m so happy you’re home!  Did you have fun?”  Emma rushed to hug her rosy cheeked boy.  Amy trailed behind, a contented smile on her face.

“Mom, I saw the giraffe poop!” Ryan broke down into giggles.

“Oh, well…that’s nature, I guess.” Emma’s eyes met Amy’s with silent thanks.

“We had so much fun.” Offered Amy, tussling Ryan’s chestnut brown curls.

“I’m so glad.” Emma hugged Ryan again, only tighter than usual due to the strange absence of her surly husband.
“Where’s Dad?” Ryan asked, on point.

“Um…I think he had a meeting.  I’m not sure.”  Emma’s hesitancy caught Amy’s attention, and Amy lifted an eyebrow, an unspoken question in her expression.  Emma gave her a comforting smile, “I’m sure Daddy and Uncle Brad had some important things to do.”  Amy nodded in understanding, clueless to the concern that fluttered about the corners of Emma’s mind.  Amy knew about Ethan’s various unsuccessful ventures, and of Emma’s increasing despondency regarding her marriage.  It was such a blessing to Emma that the part-time nanny she hired became such a trustworthy friend.  However, tonight honesty was too taxing.  After all, Ethan might be home at any moment.  And the mother of all briefs awaited her.

“Amy, have dinner with us.”  It was a standing offer, but Emma offered nonetheless.  Amy had been her dinner companion on many nights, particularly those when Ethan was emotionally unavailable, which was in essence all the time.

“I would love to Em, but I actually have a date tonight.”  Amy replied, a polite tone of regret in her voice.

“Don’t tell me…Josh?”

“Yep.” Amy smiled. “You were right.  He has the hots for me.”  She giggled more like a school girl than a woman of thirty.

“Good for you.  Have fun.  You deserve it.” Emma felt a pang of jealousy.  God, how good it would feel to know the thrill of new love again.

After the final goodbyes, Emma and Ryan ate dinner together, chatting amiably about whether a lion was scarier than a tiger, or vice versa.  Emma smiled lovingly at her little boy as he stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork, all the while giving her a detailed report on his zoo tour.  He looked so much like Ethan, but that did not trouble her even though their relationship as husband and wife was almost nonexistent. Ryan reminded her of the younger, happier version of Ethan; the man she fell in love with.

Later, after Ryan was tucked in bed with his snuggly, a ratty stuffed tiger, she was at her desk in the corner of her room reading the facts of the case she had read hundreds of times before.  Emma found herself, once again, searching for more, some hidden clue she might have missed before. Why did Alex Kramer approach the cop, even though the cop’s gun was drawn? Why did the cop think his life was in danger enough to shoot Alex?

What really happened to Alex Kramer?