Cheater (Complete)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Helping Hand

You know, life is all about the choices you make. As they say; there is always a choice. I've always thought that that expression was complete crap and I'm not changing my opinion any time soon. I figured it would make a good opener.

I was up way past my bed time, thinking about my mother. A bottle of rum sat nearby, handy for when I needed it. To be honest, I was trying to stop drinking, I swear I was. However, one simply had to drink if they were to ever think about my mother.

She just had that sort of effect.

I just logged off my computer, having searched high and low for any mention of the murder of Marissa. I hadn't found a thing. A hard case just got harder.

Sure, I could ask the coroner to dig up any unidentified female child that was approximately seven years old but I needed solid claims to do something like that. Mother said that she had never actually gone to identify the body and I suppose Walter was keeping everything hushed up. As far as I understood it, Walter himself was the person who told her that her daughter had washed up on the shore. And she had been forbidden to see her poor child.

And the real kicker was that my mother, the woman who dug me up to send Walter to jail, didn't even want to look at dead little girls to see which one was hers.

How in any possible hell was I supposed to solve this case?

I couldn't go because I had no idea what Marissa looked like. I hadn't even known she existed a few hours ago.

Who else knew what she looked like? Who else would be willing to identify the little girl? I needed a dead body, hers, to make any sort of solid case.

I think it's pretty clear that I've decided to help my mother out. There was so much history between us, bad decisions and horrible parenting but I still loved her. She gave me life. And she deserved to avenge her baby's death.

Lately, I've been thinking that our justice system is ineffective and just doesn't do enough for people who have been genuinely wronged. So many people walk away to do more bad things, putting more people in danger because the system failed once again. Bad men do bad things. They shouldn't be allowed in society.

Just thinking about all the people who've suffered because of our country's inability to get rid of all these horrible people makes me cry. I realize you can't get them all. But we shouldn't have so many hoops to jump through when we know someone is guilty. It should be as simple as putting them in a jail cell, taking away all entertainment and comfort (as well as air-conditioning and heating). Why do they deserve such treatment?

Take Walter for example. If my mother was right and Walter really does have friends in high places, it's possible that he might get out of jail before he even loses a good night's sleep. That's why he has to be disposed of as quickly as possible. I'm starting to think that perhaps one should take justice into their own hands when it comes to situations like this. Walter shouldn't even get a trial. If he does, he might not even step foot in a jail cell.

And that just isn't enough for me. I need to see him suffer for all that he's done.

If my mother ever wants to see justice served, she has to take this out of a courthouse. That's the conclusion I've come to. This is just slightly out of my league.

I mean, put it into perspective. I have a mother who's child went missing. In court, she could be thought of as hysterical, pointing fingers in all the wrong directions. She never actually saw Walter do any misdeed and she doesn't even have a dead body to show as proof. She never even saw the dead child! It may be ugly but that's how it works. The only thing she has is her superstition and that doesn't fly in a court of law. Especially if Walter has cops in his pocket.

My mother's only chance to get any real sort of justice is to straight out hire an assassin. I couldn't help her. I doubt anyone could. There was simply nothing to base a claim off of.

No solid proof = No case

I think it's time for that rum. I've never felt so useless. I wish I could help her out in the most legal way possible. I wish it were as easy as to swear that Walter did it. But it wasn't enough. The world is a cold, ugly place that we all have to survive in. If she tried to get him put in jail, he would walk free. I was sure of it. Walter was slimy and looked like a suspicious sort of person but that didn't mean a damn thing. Being as oily as he is only meant that he got away with an enormously ridiculous amount of illegal activity. He has no criminal record (I checked, thinking it could only help us out) but he's had so many close calls, it's unbelievable. How did this guy get away with so many things?! Theft, rape, anything! It is outstanding!

Being a crime lawyer has really depressed me.

I sighed, pushing away the bottle. It wouldn't help me, not really. Alcohol isn't the answer. It only makes you forget the question.

“Honey?” a voice said from the doorway. I nearly shrieked, falling out of my chair in my haste to get away.

But it was only Dean, standing against the doorway with an amused look on his face.

“Why are you still up? I've been waiting for you in bed for hours” Dean was all cavalier about all of this and I nearly peed myself. My heart wanted to burst out of my chest and I glared at him, pressing a hand to my chest.

“What is it with you and constantly scaring me?” I asked, trying to calm my breathing. With my previous train of thought, along with the empty room and the creepy night magic, Dean completely scared the crap out of me.

I stood up carefully with as much dignity as I could, which, if you knew me at all, you know I have practically none of.

“It's not my fault that you jump at any noise” he snorted, walking over to my desk, taking a casual interest in the things littering the desk. I acted as fast as a ninja and collected my mother's papers. I didn't want him to get involved. Call it an instinct but I just knew that involving him was a very bad idea.

He should be kept out of it at all costs.

He frowned at me, leaning back ever so slightly to give me a thorough scrutiny.

“What are you hiding from me?” he asked slowly.

“Absolutely nothing. Let's go to bed” I shoved the papers hurriedly into my briefcase, promising myself to call my mother tomorrow. She needed to know that I was willing to help her by any means necessary.

Dean just stood there.

“Don't you trust me?” he asked, a genuinely shocked look coming over his gorgeous features. I sighed again, feeling my headache (which seemed almost permanent these days) get worst. This was the last thing I needed.

“I trust you, you know I do. It's just that I can't just blab about my clients. It's the height of unprofessional behavior” I explained plainly, wanting nothing more than my comfy bed.

“I guess” he eyed the briefcase, either still thinking that I should tell him about everything, including work, or sensing that it was something a lot bigger than I led him to believe.

I think it's the former.

“Come on already! Let's go to bed” I took his hand and led him out of the faintly creepy room.

Tomorrow I would need to call my mother. And you already know that talking to my mother under any circumstance is awful. But I had Sam to soothe the ache afterwards. We've found the friendship that we once had and it was amazing.

It was going to be a busy day, certainly.

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Sorry I can't make it longer. I'll update again before break is over but right now I'm sick, hungry and I have such a bad headache. I just wanted to upload because it's been so long and I'm sorry for that too. Time really got away from me.

I just feel like everything in my life is going to shit, you know? I've never felt so empty or so fed up in my entire life.

I just want it to get better. I want everything to go back to how it was. Things are so horrible right now. I hate it so much. I wish it'd all end.

While I may not act like it, trust me; I'm a wreck right now.