The Very Worst Man

  The Very Worst Man

  By

  Laura Stapleton

  The Very Worst Man

  By Laura L. Stapleton

  Text Copyright © 2015 Laura L Stapleton

  All Rights Reserved

  Smashwords Edition

  Names, characters, and incidences are imaginary and fictional. Any references to non-fictional entities are provided merely for context and authenticity. Anything in here mirroring real life is all coincidental and not intentional.

  This is for the residents of Caspar, Wyoming. Remember in 1996 when I said I was writing a book set in your magnificent state? This would be it.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  Other books by Laura Stapleton

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Alexandra picked up the telephone at the same time her brother Stan did. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass separating them and noticed her eyes echoed the haggard worry in his. “How are you doing in here?”

  He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. His wrist went limp and the phone fell. Putting it back up to his ear, he said, “What do you think? It’s not a party.”

  “I’m sorry.” She tried to keep her tone contrite despite being irritated by the failing fluorescent lights’ incessant whine. A high-pitched squeak as the main door opened and closed again pierced her eardrums and added to the noise level in the room. “I should have thought before asking.”

  “Never mind, sis, I shouldn’t have said anything. Really, I’m just stressed out in here.” He glanced around and shifted in his chair. “The important thing is that you help me clear my name. I’m not going to prison for life when I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have to.” She winced when another inmate bumped into Stan while walking by. Her brother hated clumsy people. She stared at the table in front of her, hoping he could keep a handle on his temper in here. None of these guys looked like they’d tolerate one of Stan’s outbursts.

  “Earth to Alex. Come in, Alex. Where are you, sis?”

  She looked up when he snapped his fingers over the phone. “Sorry, I was thinking of ways to find new evidence that clears you.”

  He gave her a strained smile and sat back. “We need to think of something else besides that. I’ve told you everything over and over. I loved Sheila and she loved me. There’s nothing out there waiting for you to find.”

  “Probably not. Still, there has to be some sort of alibi or evidence that says someone else killed Sheila. Her killer is walking around with blood spatters on him….”

  Stan shrugged. “Or her. Some gal could have killed her wanting me for herself.”

  She nodded, turning the idea of a female killer over in her mind. “True, or her. And they need to be the one in here instead of you. I just don’t know how to fix this.”

  Grinning, he asked, “They didn’t teach you this sort of thing at WU? I thought you knew everything.”

  Alexandra shook her head, amazed he could smile at a time like this while wondering if she just imagined the slight sarcasm in his tone. Wanting to nip his teasing about her education in the bud, she replied, “Not everything, not about what I need to help you.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t worry about not knowing anything. I can’t expect you to. If my own lawyer knew what to do, I wouldn’t be here.” He sighed and leaned forward, clutching the phone as if it were a lifeline. “You’ll visit me every day until I leave, right? I need to know someone out there still cares about me.”

  She tried to ignore his pleading eyes while running through her memory on her patients’ appointments for the next week. She’d left work without grabbing a copy of next week’s schedule. She couldn’t be sure of seeing him so often without it and didn’t want to give him false hope. “I’ll try.”

  His shoulders slumped and he lowered his head. “That’s ok. I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t want to put you in a bind.” The change in him, the sorrow and dejection worried her. He needed to be strong and patient while she created a legal way for him to get out of there. “No, no, I’ll be here every day until then, I promise.” He didn’t respond so she added, “Come on, Stan, don’t worry. If I’m not here, I’ll be working on getting you out of here.”

  “It’s ok. I know you’re busy. You have a thriving business to take care of. You can’t just forget that because of me.”

  Had she heard him sniff? Was he crying? The other convicts couldn’t see him like this or they’d kick his butt. She talked fast. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll clear my schedule to visit you. It’s no problem at all.”

  He wiped his eyes, still sniffing. “No, I’ll figure it out on my own. Somehow. Always have. You handle your business. That’s what’s important.”

  A little stab of guilt over her success in life and his failures hit her. She had to reassure him that she was there for him. “It won’t interfere, and even if it did, seeing you here as often as I can is the least I can do. Rawlins is too far away for me to be there every day.”

  “No, I don’t expect that.” He leaned back as far as the phone would allow and his chair squeaked. “You could still come over once a week.”

  He expected her to make a four-hour round trip every Sunday? She added up the cost of gas in her mind and stifled a wince. She’d have to cut something else in the budget. “All right. I’ll check the visiting hours there and see when the best time is.” She shifted in the thinly padded seat. Talking to her brother was like carrying a raw egg with a tiny spoon. One jumble and she’d have a mess from his temper. “Um, Stan, I hate to ask you, but what would you like for me to do about your house?”

  Frowning, he said, “We’ve been over this. Leave it alone.”

  She kept her voice calm and low so his mood would stay the same. “Believe me, I’d like to, but there’s been a lot of break ins on that side of town. Mom and dad left you a lot of their things and I just want to make sure if the worst happens, they’re safe somewhere.”

  “So. I suppose you think your home is safer than mine.”

  Nuts. So much for her not letting the egg fall. She didn’t want to end their visit on another argument and tried to backtrack. “Not exactly, I….”

  His eyes squinted into little slits. “Yes, you do. Your house is so much better, I’m sure, but leave my shit alone. It’s good where it is.”

  The sarcasm hit hard. Unlike him, she’d worked for her home and didn’t like his description of their family’s belongings. “What our parents left you is not shit.”

  Crossing his arms, he continued to hold the phone against his ear but faced away from her. “Well, I don’t like you saying my place is a dump.”

  She gritted her teeth from saying anything more. He’d always put words in her mouth, ever since they were children and Alexandra hated that. “Stan, I didn’t say anything like that.”

  “Yes you did. Just leave everything there like I’ve told you to do and stop arguing with me. Nothing will happen because the doors are locked. I have nightlights on and before doing anything you need to wait until I can get out of here. Then I can do it myself.”

  She swallowed down her arguments, knowing they’d have no affect on him. No one wanted to admit his appeals might not work, and he’d have to serve the full life sentence. Alexandra gave him a smile, hoping to reassure him. “It’s all right, Stan. I’ll do whatever you want out there. Just concentrate on staying alive in here while I find evidence that clears you. Is there anything you need, or is everything fr
om the outside considered contraband?”

  Distracted, he ignored Alexandra. His gaze followed someone as they walked behind her and further down the line of booths. “Kiss my ass. If it isn’t Mr. Dick himself.”

  “Who?” She twisted and looked where Stan had to see what he was talking about.

  “That fucking lawyer that put me here.”

  Alexandra leaned back for a better view to find Hayden Wells sitting two stalls over from her. He thumbed through a file while waiting for a prisoner. Or rather she assumed that’s who he waited for here. No one sat opposite him at the moment. He glanced up from his work and caught her staring at him, but she couldn’t help it. Seeing him was like staring into the sun.

  He had the classic black hair with blue eyes, strong nose, and cleft chin. His body filled out a three piece suit just right. In court, every female eye had followed him as he walked in, lingered when he walked out, and ate up everything else in between. Alexandra hated him. Hated every little piece of information he gave the jury and hated how even she believed him after a while. His closing arguments devastated her. If Stan hadn’t been her own brother, she’d have judged him guilty too.

  “We need to find a way to take him out,” Stan said in a quiet voice.

  “Take him out?” Had her brother read her mind? She hated the man but Wells was gorgeous. If they’d had any other history besides prosecutor and sister of the defendant, dating him wouldn’t have been a hardship at all. Still, if Stan needed her to, she could date Mr. Wells as long as she didn’t have to eat. Otherwise, she’d probably ralph from having to be so near such an ass for any length of time. “Why would you want me to?”

  He gave a little laugh. “You’re right. Killing him wouldn’t get me out of here.”

  “What?” She’d been thinking of persuading Wells to do something that freed Stan, not killing the man. “Are you insane saying something like that here? I’m sure they’re listening in on us.”

  “Of course they are. It was just wishful thinking. You know I’m not serious, just trying to make the best of a bad situation.” He fidgeted in his seat. “I’m stuck here, but you’re not. Discrediting him may be my ticket out, and you’re the only one who can help.”

  He’d just been joking about killing a man but this had to be the wrong place to kid around like that. She shuddered to think what else Stan expected her to do for him. “What does that mean exactly?”

  “Exactly? Really?” He almost stood as if to walk away and sat back down instead of hanging up the phone. “You want me to do everything for you from here? Do you think I can accomplish anything in a five by nine cell? Or do you think that you could possibly pause your cushy little life to help me?”

  His use of the word “cushy” hit her anger like a hammer smashing a bottle of nitro. He had no idea what she went through every month to pay his debts as well as her own. Every penny of her savings and any extra since Sheila’s murder had gone to help him directly and he knew it. “Don’t even start that with me. I have helped you so much that whatever cushy life I might have had before this is mortgaged to the hilt to cover your legal fees.”

  Stan bit his lip as if trying to stay in control of a trembling chin. “You’re right, yeah, of course you are. I didn’t mean for any of this to affect you, my getting nailed for my wife’s…” he paused, pressing a hand against his mouth as he blinked back tears. “My wife’s murder. You don’t know how much I miss her.”

  His near crying deflated her irritation and put Alexandra back in her place. Who could ever guess when the love of their life would be brutally killed? “I’m sorry, Stan.” She hated how every time she lost her temper with him she ended up being wrong. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it, twice if you need me to. Please don’t worry about any of this, promise?”

  He sighed as if the weight of the world rested on him. “Thank you, Alex. That means so much right now. Just find out what you can about Mr. Dick. He’s a lawyer. They lie, cheat, and steal, only they do it legally.” Stan leaned forward as if sharing a secret. “But like he said in court, every criminal makes mistakes. He’s a criminal and I want you to find his.”

  Alexandra sat back. She had no idea where to start something like prying into Hayden Wells’ personal or professional life for goof ups. “I’ll see what I can do, Stan.” She glanced up as a prison guard stood behind him. “Whatever it takes, all right?”

  “All right, sis, whatever it takes. I love you, don’t forget that.” He hung up the phone and stood, leaving with the guard.

  “Love you, too.” Only when he left did she hang up her own receiver. She scooted back, the metal feet of the chair scraping against the tile floor. The screech caught Wells’ attention and he looked over at her.

  Their eyes met. She looked away first. Like always, their gazes meeting did odd things to her blood pressure. She was a pushover for a guy with dark hair and blue eyes, except this one of course. This one was a supreme jerk. Alexandra snuck a peek at him. A supreme, gorgeous jerk who didn’t deserve to look like that. What should be illegal was how good he looked in a suit.

  “Ma’am, you need to go now.”

  “Of course, yes, I’m sorry.” She knew the rules, yet had sat there until one of them needed to say something to her. Alexandra walked through the open steel door with a wry grin. Even with Stan gone, she still heard his scolding in her mind. Her sneakers made no sound as she made her way down the long white hall. The crisp sound of nice shoes tapped behind her. She paused for a moment to hear if the steps were hers and turned to see if she was alone.

  Stan’s prosecuting attorney was following her. For the second time in less than an hour, she stared at him. He had the longest eyelashes framing these ordinary blue eyes. How did the song go, something like walking like an angel, but being the devil in disguise? It didn’t matter. The man routinely put away innocent men like her brother.

  He nodded. “Ms. Bromley.” He brushed past her to open the door for her. “After you.”

  Giving him what she hoped passed for a withering glare, Alexandra ground out, “Thank you.” Up close, the bastard even smelled good and expensive. Clean with a spicy twist. Alexandra stepped into the waiting room with him close behind her. She took her purse from the holding area and stepped aside so Wells could reach his briefcase.

  He stepped up to sign out, focused on the paper in front of him. “Ma’am, I’d like to talk with you before you go.”

  “Oh? Ok, I guess.” She went to a plastic sofa and waited, not bothering to sit. He put a file into his briefcase and snapped it shut before walking over to her. “What can I do for you, Mr. Wells?” she asked as he approached.

  “Nothing for me, Ms. Bromley. I just wanted to see how you were holding up in all this. Convicts are usually too caught in their own circumstances up to think about how their actions affect their loved ones.” He pushed open the outer door and tilted his head in a silent request for her to follow him.

  “Thank you for your consideration, but I’m fine.” She walked through the second door he’d held for her that day. Nice that he was a gentleman to the ladies, not so much that he was a shark to Stan. “In fact, everything is better than fine. Except for the fact that my brother is an innocent man in prison.”

  “I see.” He pursed his lips, slipping on some sunglasses. “You’ve heard all my arguments about Bromley’s guilt, so I’ll leave your opinion alone.”

  “Opinion?” She couldn’t let him have the last word and brushed windblown hair out of her face before saying, “It’s fact, and if you’d not been so biased wanting to make a name for yourself, you’d know that.”

  He grinned. “Okay. The instant you find a shred of evidence that your brother didn’t kill his wife with his bare hands, call me. In fact,” Wells paused to take a business card out of his pocket, checking the back before handing it to her, “call my cell night or day, twenty-four seven when you find out how he didn’t do it. If he’s truly innocent, I want to be the first to welcome him to freedom.”
>
  She took his card, slipping it in her purse. “Good! I plan on making you apologize to him in person.”

  Hayden laughed at the idea and clicked the automatic door lock on his keychain. “Fair enough, but I’m not holding my breath until that happens. Good day, Ms. Bromley.”

  Staring after him, first with an open mouth and then a frown, she shook her head. Who said goodbye that way? What a goofball. Alexandra dug in her purse for her car keys and brushed his business card. Oh, she’d call him all right. On the day Stan came home, she’d make Wells a big crow pie and call him over to eat every bite. Unlocking her car, she got in and drove behind him to the main parking lot gate. Stupid man, she thought while staring at his bumper. She recognized one of the oval bumper stickers as a cyclist’s favorite racing distance. Who rode bicycles in Wyoming when there were cars and horses? She knew what Stan would say: Any man on two wheels instead of four legs is a pussy. Wells went on through a yellow light while Alexandra played it safe and stopped.

  Waiting at the light, she went over her brother’s plan. Stan wanted her to discredit the man, smear Wells’ shiny attorney’s reputation to reopen his own case. Alex absently shook her head. If her brother was innocent—and he was— all she needed to do was find the key to getting him out. He’d said there wasn’t one, but there had to be. For all she knew, Wells ignored facts and convicted every case that crossed his desk. She accelerated when the light changed and drove to her veterinary clinic.

  A mean little thought wormed its way into her mind. Hadn’t she helped Stan enough? Wasn’t it up to him to help himself by now? It wasn’t his home that had been mortgaged and his business now deep in debt to pay legal fees. Remorse hit her as soon as the words reached her consciousness. Stan was just an odd job type of guy. He didn’t have anything to use as collateral and had nothing left to sell that anyone would buy. The home their parents had left him had needed so much work, he’d have to pay someone to take it. She took in a deep breath, wanting to ease the stress, and slowed her car into its parking spot at her clinic. Alexandra resolved to make the most of the day rather than letting all the problems overwhelm her. First things first: Finish up at work, then go home and figure out how to help Stan.