Off the Beaten Path (14 page)

When I got back to my truck Angela said, “That was horrible.” I explained to her that the older man might have just saved the punk’s life. The next time that kid thought about jumping out of his car and challenging someone to a fight, he might just remember the public beating he took at the hands of a man three times his age. Because the next time the person he challenged might have a gun or a knife tucked away under the seat of his car.”

Kristin leaned back in the plush seat in the limo and thought about Jack’s story.

After a few blocks Jack asked, “Was your ex-husband being a jackass tonight?”

“Yes.” She said.

“How many times have you wished that you could have punched Clarence in the nose?”

“Too many to count.” She said.

“Kristin, I will bet you a steak dinner that we could turn this limo around and go back to the scene of the crime and not one person in the room would point a finger in my direction and yell,

“There he is that’s the man that assaulted that poor obnoxious drunk.”

“Why do you think that is?” She asked sincerely.

“I think everyone that saw how he was acting and heard him say what he said thought that he deserved what happened to him.”

“That simple?” She asked.

“That simple, everyone wants to see a bully get what’s coming to him.” He said.

Kristin asked, “What would you call what you did to Clarence back there?”

“In olden days what I did was called ‘Frontier Justice.” Jack offered.

Kristin burst out laughing. Jack got a puzzled look on his face and asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Jack, I think your description of what happened is ironic, especially since you just punched out one of the most sought after personal injury lawyers in the Northwest.

Kristin was interrupted by a Text message from Becca,

“OMG is it true, did Jack really punch Clarence, and Please tell me that someone got video of that.”

“Who was that,” Jack asked,

“Becca, news travels fast in the big city.

Clarence Palmer was a first class Son of a Bitch. He had graduated at the top of his class at Yale and had been offered a position with one of the most prestigious law firms in Seattle. He had taken the position along with the ridiculously low salary as a means to an end. But to be perfectly honest, the intricacies and inner workings of the law bored him to death.

Clarence had suffered through the portentous professors at law school who preached about civil rights like they were the Ten Commandments. He barely tolerated his moronic classmates that had rambled on endlessly about righting wrongs and serving the cause of justice, what a crock of shit.

Clarence worked his ass of in law school for one reason and one reason only. In our litigious society everything revolved around the law. From which playground equipment to install at the local elementary school to dividing up some old dead millionaire's estate, the law was in everything.

Clarence found it laughable that the king of England used to consult with the Catholic Church on key issues, now the president of the United States had to consult with his legal advisers before he would even wipe his ass.

A friend of his had asked Clarence one time who he thought designed cars these days, Clarence had responded without hesitation, “Lawyers.” He responded,

“Lawyers have the final say so on everything.”

Yep, the law and the endless stream of lawyers cranked out by almost every college in the country had its slimy little fingers in every body's pie. But what Clarence really had his eye on was politics. He understood that if you wanted to get into politics you had to be in Law. Clarence had been fascinated with politics for as long as he could remember. Growing up he had watched local politicians charm and manipulate their way from one election to the next. He had observed with stark amusement at the lengths some politicians went too to get elected and then re-elected. It seemed like when they were running for office the first time around their singular goal was to get elected. When they did get elected this goal did not change by much. Everything they did on a daily basis was to get re-elected. Clarence believed that the trouble with most politicians was that they looked uncomfortable with the entire process that is politics, the art of compromise. Most every politician that has ever raised his or her right hand and swore to defend the constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic, started out with noble goals and a conscious, Clarence had neither, noble goals or a conscious.

In college Clarence joined the boxing team, not for the exercise or the friendly competition; he loved inflicting pain on another human being. He loved stocking his opponent in the confines of a boxing ring knowing that there was nowhere for them to hide. He relished the look of despair on the face of another man when he knew that he was beaten. Clarence especially enjoyed watching his boxing glove slam into the face of another opponent. The feel of a nose breaking or a jaw being dislocated by one of his left hooks. The sight of blood pouring out from another man’s busted lip or the guys eye swelling up so bad he had to squint to try and see where the next brain rattling blow was coming from. He only regretted that the rules of boxing would not allow him to box bare knuckled.

Over the last few years he had discovered the new blood sport, Ultimate Fighting. He attended as many of the bloody competitions as
his schedule would allow, and he always got front row center seats. He almost wished that this bloody sport had been around twenty years ago he would have been first in line. Clarence thought with some amusement that if they ever come up with a forty and over division, he was in. Yep, Clarence Palmer was a first class Son of a bitch.

Clarence and Kristin had met at a fund raiser for Multiple Sclerosis at the height of her modeling career. There was a famous jewelry chain that had donated several pieces of fashionable jewelry for the auction and Kristin had been asked to be one of the models that moved through the crowd to show off the stunning array of diamond necklaces, bracelets, and ear rings. Since Kristin had a cousin that suffered from M.S. She was more than happy to help out by spending a Saturday night draped in several thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds, what girl wouldn’t.

Kristin had noticed the distinguished looking man that seemed to be the center of attention standing under the bright lights of the chandelier in the middle of the ballroom. There was a group of about fifteen people gathered around the man, all of them laughing and hanging on his every word. Although the handsome man seemed more than a little charming, it didn't appear that he was with anyone in particular.

When the man noticed Kristin circulating in the crowd with her ostentatious display of diamonds he excused himself from the group and made a line straight through the crowd in her direction. She watched him out of the corner of her eye thinking that he must be coming over to take a closer look at the jewelry she was wearing. When the man reached the spot where she was standing he stopped stuck out his hand and introduced himself, “I am Clarence Palmer, and you are without a doubt the most beautiful vision in this room.”

Kristin had blushed a little and tried to dismiss his extraordinary compliment,

“Yes, aren't the diamonds lovely?”

He locked eyes with her and said in a polished elegant tone, “What Diamonds?”

Kristin's first impression had been correct, he was extremely charming.

Clarence had literally swept her off her feet. Although modeling had provided a fairly glamorous lifestyle over the last six years it was nothing compared to the circle of friends and business associates that Clarence rubbed elbows with. There were CEO's and athletes, movie stars and politicians. Clarence had been right about one thing, lawyers were in everything.

The first couple of years had been wonderful. Clarence and Kristin were on the “A” list for every party and social event that came along. They each had to have their own social secretary just to keep up with which events were the most influential to attend. They were on a first name basis with most of the political heavy-weights on the west coast as well as quite a few in Washington D.C. Part of the reason for these high level contacts was Clarence's burning desire to become a Congressman or a Senator.

He didn't give a damn about local or even state politics, Clarence was after a political office that would place him in Washington D.C. that is where the real power was. Local and state political offices were too close to the average smuck. People that only wanted you to deal with all their mundane little problems from fixing pothole to naming a stupid city park after some long dead relative. Becoming a U.S. Senator was the way to go, all you had to do was send home enough federal money and show up a couple times each year at high profile events and you could stay in office as long as you wished. Then when you retired from the Senate with all your pay you could go to work for some lobbyist firm and make some real money.

There were plenty of people on both sides of the political aisle that were interested in Clarence Palmer being in their camp. And frankly Clarence didn't care one way or the other which one of the political
parties recruited him, he was suave enough to be on the ticket of either party.

Kristin did not know it, but she had been part of Clarence's plan to get into politics. She came from a wealthy influential family that also had their share of connections. It was not just a coincidence that Clarence had been at that fund raiser the night he met Kristin alone, Clarence never went anywhere alone. He knew that she was going to be there that night and he had set his sights on making her the perfect political wife.

The problems began when Kristin discovered that Clarence had a taste for young girls, young models to be exact. He had been very excited when she had told him that she wanted to start a modeling agency after she got out of modeling herself. Maybe too excited. At first she had dismissed the rumors and whispers about her husband hitting on her models. Looking back now she realized that she had provided Clarence with an entire building for of young impressionable girls for him to choose from. The fact that he had offered to be the Models lawyer helped him put his big camel’s nose under the harem tent. At a party they had given Kristin had heard one of Clarence's golfing buddies refer to the Palmer Agency as the Palmer Harem. When she confronted Clarence about what he had heard is when the hitting began.

Kristin was stretched out on her couch reading the Sunday paper when Jack got back from walking Sam. The moment Sam left the elevator she made a straight shot for the puffy chair next to the couch, over the past two days she had claimed that as her personal domain,

“How was the walk?” Kristin asked.

“I think Marcy and Jimmy are conspiring to spoil Sam, I’m not sure if we are going to walk off all the dog treats they have been feeding her.” Jack suggested.

“Sam isn’t finding any rabbit to chase either is she?” Kristin said as she reached over and stroked Sam.

“Nope, and the squirrels don’t play fair, climbing a tree is cheating.”

Kristin offered up a deal, “You fix breakfast and I will give you the fifty cent tour of the big city today.”

“That sounds like an offer I can’t pass up.” Jack said as he headed for the kitchen.

“There is one condition.” She said slowly.

Jack stopped and asked, “And that condition would be?”

“That you don’t punch anyone today.”

“I’m going to hear about that for a long time aren’t I?” he said with a grimace.

She laughed and added, “You have no idea how many miles I’m going to get out of that little episode.”

They stood on the deck of the ferry that was taking them across the sound to Blake Island. Kristin was looking across the sound at the city and out of nowhere she said,

“My father loved this view of Seattle.”

Jack asked, “Did he bring you out here often?”

“As often as he could, I think a couple hundred years ago he would have made a great captain of a ship.”

“That’s interesting.” Jack observed.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Most people would have said, he would have made a great sailor, you promoted him straight to Captain.”

“He would not have settled for just being a sailor there was something deep inside him that always drove him to be at the top of everything he did.”

“He sounds like he was a fascinating man.” Jack suggested.

“He was more than fascinating he was intrigued by everything around him. There are a few people that are really great listener’s he wasn’t just a great listener he truly enjoyed hearing what people had to say. I watched my father hundreds of times at dinners and parties engage someone in a conversation for the sole purpose of hearing what they had to say. There was one time that my mother was hosting a diner party and after about thirty minutes I noticed that my father was not entertaining guests. I started looking around the house and found him sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee with one of the hired waiters for the party. The kid he was talking to had a degree in business and had some very interesting ideas about the direction of global business. The next day my father hired him, his name was Carl Turner.

Most people talk to hear themselves talk or to try and impress the people they are talking to, my father’s gift was really hearing what another person was trying to convey.”

“Is that where you got your ability to read people?” He asked.

“Every single word he spoke and wrote had meaning and purpose to it even his thoughts were not accidental or random. My father had an exercise he performed with every person he ever did business with. At some point in their relationship, usually fairly early on in the relationship my father would casually suggest stopping at a local restaurant or diner, nothing fancy the more ordinary the restaurant the better. He would then watch very closely the reaction of the person. The first thing he noticed was the response of the person he was with to his suggestion of the place he chose for them to eat. He believed that the reaction they had gave him a special insight to the person’s attitude about the world around them. He had read extensively about Thomas Edison when he was in college.