Page 34 of Motion to Dismiss

“I’m listening.”

“What if we just let people say all their terrible things about me?”

“That’s literally what the feds are going to do.”

“No, but I mean…” He takes one of the shot glasses from me and knocks it back. “After we let them spew whatever hateful things they’re going to say, you counter them with all the things I’ve done for them. Show everyone how ungrateful they are. How I’m actually a good guy.”

I blink.

“It’ll make them look like hypocrites, and the jurors may have to reconsider the feds painting me as some monstrous psychopath.”

You ARE a monstrous psychopath.

“Even if I was willing to do that,” I say, “and I’m not, who the hell would you want me to call?”

“My wife, for one,” he says. “Well, soon-to-be ex-wife. You’re handling the divorce for me as well, right?”

“No,” I say. “Hamilton & Associates is your best bet for that.”

“That’s who she’s using.” He crosses his arms. “Why can’t you handle it?”

“Huge conflict of interest,” I say. “Who else besides your ex-wife?”

“My daughter.” He smiles. “Have her ass up there telling all types of boogeyman stories, then hit her with a hammer.”

“Metaphorically, you mean.”

“Only if I can’t find a way to physically do it before trial.” He laughs, but I don’t join him.

“I’m joking, Jameson.”

“I didn’t hear the punchline.”

“Fine.” He holds up his hands in fake surrender. “After she lies about how hard of a life she’s had, you reveal just how privileged she’s been. How she’s always received the best of the best, and how she only has it out for me because she never wanted to work in the family business.”

“Scarlett won’t be a part of your case.” I look at him. “Ever.”

“Well, I can’t call my sons.” He shrugs. “So, you should at least consider it.”

“Scarlett,” I say, keeping my voice firm, “will not be a part of this. Period.”

“I should’ve told you about my daughter sooner.” He treats himself to a shot of scotch. “A lot sooner.”

“Why is that?”

“Because—” He shrugs. “Maybe you wouldn’t feel like she’s some type of casualty in all this. She’s as much to blame as me.”

“Then why aren’t the feds charging her?”

“They caught up with me a few years early.” He knocks back his drink. “If I’d had it my way, they would’ve caught me in seven years, and she’d be answering for everything. Not my sons.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand at full attention as I try to convince myself I’ve misheard him.

That there’s no way he’s even more diabolical than I already thought.

“You were going to—” I pause. “You would set up your own daughter to cover your own ass?”

“Ungrateful daughter,” he says. “Yes.”