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Dominic
“Come on,” I tell Carter at the end of the hearing. “I ate breakfast at six, and I’m starving. There’s a bar across the street. Megan, join us for a drink?”
“I could use one,” the lawyer says feelingly. “Unfortunately, I have another hearing this afternoon.” She gives my friend a sympathetic look. “Carter, I know this didn’t go as planned. But—”
“As planned?” Carter bursts out. “This was a fucking disaster.”
I give him a warning look, and he stares stonily back at me. I sigh inwardly. Carter is furious now, but he’ll feel like an asshole for unloading on Megan in a few minutes. He has flaws but barking at women isn’t one of them. “Lunch, buddy. Let’s go.”
We walk into the bar. It’s a bit of a dive. The air smells like stale beer, and the carpet sticks to the soles of my shoes. It takes me back to my college days. A simpler time.
Both Carter and I are wearing suits. Judging by the doubletake the sole waitress gives us, we’re extremely out of place. “Sit anywhere,” she calls out from behind the bar. “I’ll be right with you.”
We pull up seats. Carter eyes the laminated menu dubiously. “Interesting choice of venue.”
If we’re going to have a screaming match, I rather it not be in the Grand River. I own the place; Carter’s the head of security. Too many people will talk. I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “It’s close.”
The waitress comes over, and I order a pitcher of Heineken and a platter of nachos. Carter lifts an eyebrow. “Isn’t it a little too early to be drinking?”
“I’ve been up since five. I’ve already had four cups of coffee.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Not for the first time, I’d had a sex dream about Ella, the gorgeous woman we’d hooked up with in New York a few months ago. I woke up rock hard and aching, and jerked off in the shower. It was a one-night stand. It’s pathetic how much I still think about her. “Something like that.” I don’t want to talk about Ella. Not when Carter’s going through a crisis. “How are you?”
The waitress brings us our beer. Carter waits for her to leave. “How do you think, Dominic?” he asks bluntly. “That was complete bullshit.”
“Tell me about the kindergarten incident.”
“Ed was late. I lost my cool.” He pours himself a pint and drinks half of it in one gulp. “It was no big deal. Nothing I should have lost custody over.” His lips tighten. “Ed’s always been good at getting people to buy his wounded puppy act.”
“Judge Bass’ custody arrangement is temporary.” I reach for the pitcher. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear it, but Noah dotes on Ed. Wagner is a good father.”
“You’re right,” he says tersely. “I don’t want to hear it. What I want to know is who in this fucking city gave that asswipe a job.”
This is one question I can answer. “Denton Mitchell.” On paper, Mitchell is a real-estate developer. In reality, the guy’s got his fingers in everything. Underground poker dens, strip bars, towing companies, money laundering—if it’s dirty, Mitchell is involved.
“What?” Carter slams his glass down on the table.
“Wagner is a dealer at Mitchell’s private poker room,” I reply. “He deals cards three nights a week. Three other nights, he plays as a shill in a different room.” Shills and prop players get paid to start poker games, help them stay active, keep the bidding high, that kind of thing.
Carter looks outraged. “He’s out six nights a week? What sort of father does that make him?”
“Don’t be a hypocrite, Carter, you work six nights a week on the casino floor, as do I.” I refill his empty glass. I guess we’re both taking a cab back to the Grand River. “Today didn’t go well, but this isn’t a permanent custody arrangement. Give Ed his six weeks with Noah. Do as the judge says. Stay away from Wagner; show her you can follow the rules. Noah wants you in his life. Judge Bass is going to take his wishes into consideration.” As long as Carter doesn’t piss her off.
“Six weeks.” Carter’s voice is heavy. “What if he starts reusing?”
That’s unlikely. Carter’s sister Chloe was the addict. Ed isn’t perfect, not even close, but he was never a junkie. He smokes some recreational pot, but that’s about it. Ed’s problem is booze. He spent the months after Chloe’s death in an alcoholic stupor. But he’s sober now. He attends AA meetings. He’s had a tough road of it, but he’s managed to get his life back in order.
Carter isn’t stupid, but where Ed Wagner is concerned, he has a giant blind spot. He’s still angry about Chloe’s death. Ed is a convenient target, but deep down inside, Carter blames himself. He hates that he couldn’t save his sister. He’s mired in anger and guilt.
Chloe made her choices. Ed wasn’t responsible for what happened, any more than Carter was. Addiction is a difficult, brutal thing. Sometimes, despite the best efforts of everyone involved, people lose the battle.
I take a deep breath and try to think of the gentlest way to say all of that. “I know there’s a lot of history between the two of you. But Carter, give Ed a chance. Noah won’t be unsupervised. Dr. Kang will be monitoring him, and I’m sure Judge Bass will get regular reports about how he’s doing.”
“Dr. Kang can’t watch over him twenty-four-seven.”
She doesn’t need to. “You’ve been told to stay away from Ed. That wasn’t a request, Carter. It was an order. Do not fuck with Judge Bass.”
