Trial Junkies

So that was what this was about. Apparently the office manager had Keating on speed dial.

'Nobody's stirring up anything,' Hutch told him. 'We're just looking for the truth.'

Keating laughed. 'The truth? I assume you're not speaking philosophically.'

Hutch said nothing.

'If you want the truth, Ethan, it's in that courtroom. As much as I might admire your loyalty to an old friend, it's severely misplaced, and it offends me that you and your college pal seem to be going out of your way to… well, to be honest, I'm not sure what you're up to. And I'd like to know.'

Hutch spread his hands. 'Like I told you…'

Keating nodded. 'The truth. And what does the man in the photograph have to do with that?'

Hutch debated how much he should tell him. If he told Keating about his hunch, his gut feeling, would the old guy jump in with a rah-rah-sis-boom-bah?

Doubtful. Like everyone else, he thought Ronnie was guilty. This trial was merely a formality. Hutch could try to dissuade him of that notion, but why bother? The guy wasn't known for his pliancy.

'Well?' Keating said. 'Who is the man in the photograph?'

'Probably no one. We're just looking for alternate suspects for the crime and-'

'The crime?' Keating barked. 'The crime? Is that how you see it? Some abstract point of fact that needs to be examined and dissected the way that bitch dissected my little girl?'

'That isn't exactly what I-'

'Shut the hell up.'

He nodded to the two mercenaries and they stepped forward, grabbing Hutch by the arms. Then he tossed the towel aside and moved in close, the hostility in his eyes no longer vague.

'This may not come as a surprise to you, Hutchinson, but I've never approved of you. Back when you and Jenny were in college, I don't know how many times I tried to persuade her to move out of that house and come back home. But she'd found her… independence… and wouldn't listen to me, even when I threatened to cut off her funding.'

He was right. None of this was news to Hutch.

'I'd only met you a couple times,' Keating went on, 'but I knew immediately what kind of man you were. Getting my daughter into your bed wasn't enough to satisfy you. You smelled her money and wanted it, too.'

Hutch's anger was instant and unrelenting. 'That's complete bullshit, you son-of-a-'

An explosion of pain blossomed in his left kidney. Pain so acute that his knees buckled and he would have dropped to the floor if it hadn't been for the two men holding his arms. The blow had come from the Filipina towel girl, who had somehow managed to circle around behind him as they spoke. He had been so focused on Keating that he hadn't even realized she was still in the room.

As the pain rocketed through Hutch's body, Keating said, 'Don't even try to deny it, you little fuck. You smelled her money and I knew the only way to protect my daughter was to dangle another carrot in front of you. A more exciting carrot. One that few people would say no to.'

Hutch coughed. Tried to breathe. '…What are you talking about?'

'Are you really that clueless? Did you think you were approached by that casting agent because of your good looks and winning personality? Did you think you got the job because of your raw acting talent?'

Hutch was at a loss for words.

'I know a lot of people, Ethan. Powerful people. And some of those people owe me favors. It was no different back then.' He paused. 'Of course, none of us could have known that you'd actually wind up with a hit TV show. I mean, Jack Van Parkes, for godsakes? Give me a fucking break. All I wanted was get you out of Chicago and away from my daughter. And to prove to her you were the loser I thought you were. Game, set, match.'

The pain finally subsided a bit, but it had been replaced by such a feeling of dismay that Hutch still couldn't find the words to respond. He had known his career was a fluke, but could this asshole really be the great and powerful Oz he claimed to be? Had he engineered that very first audition? Had he called in a favor to get Hutch the job?

And was it possible that, somewhere down deep, Hutch had known this all along? Had sensed it?

It might explain a lot of things. His rejection of Jenny. His descent into booze and drugs. All because he'd known Keating was right. That he was a loser. The type who would chase temptation and forget everyone around him. Those who mattered to him.

Keating smiled now, as if reading his mind. 'How's that for truth?'

'Fuck you,' Hutch managed, but it was said without much fire.

He half expected another blow to the kidney, but it didn't come. Instead, Keating said, 'Here's what I want from you now. I want you to butt out of this. Forget your alternate suspects, forget your old college friends, and go back to Los Angeles where you belong. Lose yourself in that insular little world they have out there, and leave my Jenny alone.'

Hutch eyed him defiantly. 'And if I don't?'

'Then I'll have to put you on a plane myself.'

They dropped him off where they had picked him up, a little less than a block from the courthouse.

Hutch's kidney still ached as the car door slammed behind him and the sedan pulled away, Keating in back now, giving him one last look before dismissing him from his mind. They would circle around and pull up in front of the courthouse and Keating would once again play the stoic, grieving father as he walked up the steps past the throng of reporters and video cameras.

For the briefest of moments, Hutch entertained the idea of leaving Chicago. He thought about running away with Ronnie, and for a millisecond, even considered herding sheep somewhere in South America.

Or he could do as Keating had suggested and simply go back to L.A.

But then he looked down the block toward the courthouse and asked himself, what would Jenny want him to do? And he knew that she would want him to stay. Just as she had before. She would want him to fight for Ronnie, to help prove that this trial was a severe miscarriage of justice.

But she would also want him to prove her father wrong.

And with this in mind, Hutch ignored the ache in his side and started walking toward the courthouse, determined to stare the old man down as he strode into the gallery, give him a look that said, you can try, but you won't succeed.

Not this time.

Ten minutes later, Hutch did exactly that.

— 41 -

'What's with old man Keating?' Andy asked. 'Guy's really giving you the evil eye.'

Hutch shook his head. 'Long story. Apparently a lot longer than I thought.'

Monica, Tom and Gus were seated on either side of them and they all looked at Hutch curiously. But before they could hammer him with any questions, the bailiff called out, 'All rise!' and they got to their feet.

As the door behind the bench opened and Judge O'Donnell took a seat in his high-backed chair, Andy whispered, 'See? What did I tell you? Dude definitely got laid during the break.'

Andy quietly sang the first two lines of Afternoon Delight, and Monica snickered. So did Tom and Gus. And despite himself, Hutch joined in, thinking he could use a laugh just about now.

His kidney still ached and he was afraid he'd be pissing blood tonight.

He felt Keating's gaze on him and wondered what the old man's next step would be. Send out the Filipina towel girl to do more damage? Or was it all bluff in hopes that Hutch would tuck his tail and flee?

Judge O'Donnell shot a look in their direction, nearly provoking another wave of snickers, then said, 'With all present and accounted for, court is back in session. Mr. Abernathy, please call your next witness.'