The 37th Amendment: A Novel (22 page)

Ted froze, his elbow on the table, a chocolate chip cookie halfway into his mouth. Jordan’s picture was framed above the news anchor’s shoulder.

“Police say Ms. Rainsborough may be traveling with defendants’ rights activist Ted Braden.”

Ted dropped the cookie and looked around for a phone. He keyed in Julia’s number.

A wide-awake voice answered. “Hello?” Julia said.

“Julia, it’s Ted.”

“Ted! Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I can’t tell you where I am, but I’m fine. Listen carefully. I need you to get into my house and get rid of the computer stuff downstairs.”

“Your mock D.A.’s office?”

“Exactly. Do it now before the police have time to get a search warrant.”

“Okay,” Julia said. “Where’s the key?”

“Flynn has it,” Ted said. “She’s at her mom’s. 1720 N. Gramercy Place, Apartment 512. It’s north of Hollywood Boulevard between Bronson and Western.”

“Got it.”

“Go right now.”

“I’m on the way,” Julia said.

“Tell Flynn I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Ted continued. “Tell her to stay at her mom’s.”

“Okay,” Julia said. “Can I call you on your wireless?”

“Better not,” Ted said.

“Okay,” Julia said, “I’m gone.” She clicked off.

Ted stared at the phone in his hand, nervously drumming his fingers against it.

“Who was that?” Jordan came into the kitchen wearing a flouncy pastel bathrobe. “I borrowed it from Tiffany,” she said, misinterpreting his grim expression.

“That was Julia,” Ted said. “Jordan, this is worse than we thought.”

“You’ll be perfectly safe here,” Tiffany said. The coffee pot made gurgling sounds behind her as she placed three ceramic mugs on the table. “Everybody knows the state of Nevada doesn’t cooperate with California. Of course, Nevada is obligated to extradite anyone charged with a felony in another state. But that’s only if you’re caught. Nevada will do nothing to catch you, or to help California catch you.”

“God bless the New Federalism,” Jordan declared weakly.

“We don’t know that we’re going to be charged with a felony,” Ted said.

“Really,” Tiffany said dryly. “Are you on the news because your puppy fell into a well?”

“Point taken,” Ted grumbled.

“I can’t understand it,” Jordan said. “They’re making me sound like an escaped murderer. All I did was copy a few documents.”

“We have to call Dobson Howe,” Ted said.

Tiffany’s eyes widened. “Dobson Howe?” she asked.

Ted caught the tone. “We’re not dangerous criminals, I swear,” Ted said. “This is probably just a big misunderstanding.”

“It’s all just political,” Jordan said. “The mayor’s upset about leaks and they’re looking for someone to blame.”

Tiffany nodded. “I’m just going to call Jimmy,” she said. “Maybe he’ll pick up some doughnuts and come over and join us.”

Ted jumped up from the kitchen table and grabbed Tiffany’s hands before she could get to the phone. “Please don’t turn us in,” he pleaded.

“I’m not turning anybody in,” Tiffany said calmly. “You’re my first fugitives. I don’t want to get a reputation in the community as a rat.”

Ted kissed her hand.

The phone rang.

“That will be Jimmy,” Tiffany said. “Sometimes I think he can read my mind.” She pulled her hands away from Ted and answered the phone. “Hello? Yes, we saw it. No, no, it’s all right. Certainly. Pick up a dozen doughnuts on the way, would you? You did? You read my mind. Okay, bye-bye.” She hung up the phone. “He’s on his way,” she said. “Let’s have some coffee.”

“May I use your phone?” Ted asked. “I think it’s not a good idea for me to use my wireless.”

“Certainly,” Tiffany answered. She handed it to him. Ted keyed in Dobson Howe’s number. Howe answered on the second ring.

“Dobson? Ted Braden.”

“Ted, where are you? Where’s Jordan?”

“She’s here with me. We’re in Nevada.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard this morning. Whatever you do, don’t cross the border into California. And keep your car out of sight. The last thing we need is some idiot turning you in for the reward.”

“There’s a reward?”

“Not yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised. Find a garage or a storage lock-up someplace.”

“Already have.”

“Good, good.” Howe sounded impressed. “How many people know where you are?”

“Just a local newspaper reporter and his grandmother. She has graciously agreed to let us stay in her home until this blows over. Which brings me to the reason I’m calling.”

“It should be just a couple of days,” Howe said. “It’s my guess that this is a scare tactic. I think they’re hoping to shake a confession out of Jordan. It’s unlikely they have any real evidence against her. They wouldn’t have anything on you, either, if you hadn’t evaded the Highway Patrol on the way out of town. However, that is an easier matter to resolve. Give me a couple of days, and I think you’ll be able to come back.”

“Thanks, Dobson.”

“What’s the phone number where I can reach you? And by the way, don’t use your wireless.”

“Right. Tiffany?”

“Hm?”

“Okay if I give Dobson Howe your phone number?”

“Let me talk to him,” Tiffany said. She took the phone from Ted. “Mr. Howe? This is Tiffany Dixon.” She gave him the voice number and a second number for data transfers.

“Ms. Dixon, thank you so much for letting my clients stay in your home. I’ll certainly see to it that you are compensated for your trouble.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. It’s no trouble and I don’t want any compensation. I just want to tell you one thing.”

“Certainly, Ms. Dixon. What is it?”

“You’re wrong about the 37th Amendment. And I wish you would reconsider.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Thank you for your feedback,” Howe said. “I hope someday I’ll have the opportunity to discuss this with you in person. Perhaps I can change your mind.”

“I hope I can change yours,” Tiffany said. “Call anytime.” She hung up. “That felt good,” she said. “Much more satisfying than yelling at the TV set.”

Ted was staring into space but Jordan’s high-beams were fixed on Tiffany. The sound of the front door opening broke the silence.

“Good morning,” James called from the living room. “Where is everybody?”

“In the kitchen, sweetheart,” Tiffany called back.

James bounded in and dropped a box of fresh doughnuts on the kitchen table. Ted ate two of them by the time James poured a cup of coffee and sat down. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” Ted said, wiping a ring of chocolate from his mouth. “I think I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.”

“You must have an awful headache,” Tiffany said.

Ted nodded and reached for a sugared twist.

“When this is all over,” James said. “I’d like to write a series of articles about everything that went on. There might even be a book in it. Can I count on your cooperation?”

Ted nodded. James looked at Jordan. Jordan nodded.

“Great,” James said. “Next item of business. You need a lawyer.”

“We have a lawyer,” Ted said. “Dobson Howe.”

“Whoa,” James said. “This is going to be great. So, what are you charged with?”

“Maybe nothing,” Ted said. “Dobson thinks the mayor is just trying to scare Jordan into confessing.”

James leaned forward slightly. “Confessing what?” he asked.

“That I leaked confidential records,” Jordan answered. “But they can’t possibly have any evidence of that.” She looked searchingly at Ted. “You told me nothing was hooked up to the office network. So there can’t be any record, right? Right?”

“Right,” Ted nodded. “Unless it’s the Dency medical report. That one you did on your own.”

Jordan shook her head. “They can’t possibly prove it was me,” she said. “They might suspect it was me. But it could have been five other people. They can’t possibly prove it.”

“Okay, then,” Ted said. “It’s a bluff. Dobson said he’ll have it cleared up in a couple of days. I’ll plead to reckless driving and spend two hundred hours picking up trash along the freeway and it will be over.”

James and Tiffany were wide-eyed, listening.

“That’s right,” Jordan said. Her voice was calm. “I’m not a fugitive at all. I simply left town for a couple of days on a pre-planned trip and never knew the police were looking for me. A simple misunderstanding.”

“That’s right,” Ted agreed. “Except that Dobson said we should stay out of sight because there probably will be a reward for turning us in.”

“He could be wrong,” Tiffany said. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” She pushed the box of doughnuts in Jordan’s direction. “Have a doughnut,” she insisted. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

Jordan extended a slightly shaky hand into the box and took a cake doughnut covered with chocolate icing and rainbow sprinkles. “Did I hear you say you think he’s wrong to want to repeal the 37th Amendment?” she asked tentatively.

“I know he’s wrong,” Tiffany said. “I was there.”

“Where?” Ted asked.

“In 2016, when that amendment was ratified,” she answered. “I saw how things changed after that. He’s insane, trying to send the legal system back to the way it used to be.”

Jordan tried not to say anything but couldn’t stop herself. “Tiffany, I work in that legal system every day. It’s a travesty. People are being convicted of crimes they didn’t commit.”

“That is a shame,” Tiffany said. “But it’s better to put a few of the wrong people in jail than to go back to having the whole country locked inside their homes.”

Ted stared in astonishment at the redheaded grandmother sitting across the table from him. “Tiffany,” he said, “Innocent people have been put to death.”

Tiffany stared right back at him. “Innocent people used to die all the time,” she said. “Shot. Stabbed. Hit by stray bullets. There were a thousand murders a year in Los Angeles.”

The room fell silent.

“You kids think the legal system isn’t perfect and you’re going to fix it,” Tiffany continued. “You think a terrible injustice has been done. Well, you’re right. Maybe fifteen terrible injustices have been done. But twenty million people live in Los Angeles County and a lot of them don’t even lock their doors at night. It wasn’t always like that, you know.”

James stood up and got the coffee pot. “Grandma used to live in L.A.,” he said, pouring refills all around. “She’s still angry about it.”

Tiffany nodded. “That’s true,” she said. “It’s so different now. It’s safe everywhere. There are still poor neighborhoods, but no bad neighborhoods. You can walk around, you can take the kids to the park. The kids can go to the park without you. Not like when I lived there. You two probably can’t even imagine it.”

Memory lane, Ted thought. Walked twenty blocks in the snow to get to school every day. Barefoot.

“When my parents were kids, they’d get on their bicycles and say, ‘Bye, Mom,’ and not come back until it was dark. When I was growing up, my parents had to drive me everywhere. Everywhere. They didn’t let me go anywhere alone. They were frightened to death. And we lived in a so-called good neighborhood. I don’t know how my parents could stand that commute.” Tiffany sipped her coffee. “In the city, the parks belonged to drug dealers and gang members. Whole neighborhoods belonged to drug dealers and gang members. Sometimes there would be a crackdown, usually after a riot, and the streets would be flooded with police and National Guard troops. And for about two weeks, you’d see people pushing their baby strollers down the sidewalks and kids playing in the front yards. And then the troops and the police would leave and it would go back to normal. Everybody locked inside except the criminals.”

“Well, something should have been done,” Ted said.

“Something was done,” Tiffany said. “Many times. Injunctions against gang members, anti-loitering laws, police checkpoints. All thrown out by federal judges. All found to be a violation of due process. What did they care if people couldn’t walk the streets in safety? There was always plenty of security at the federal courthouse.”

Ted could see that Jordan was biting her tongue.

“But after the 37th Amendment,” Tiffany continued, “There was no due process clause in the U.S. Constitution. The Supreme Court held that the federal government no longer had any authority over the administration of state criminal law. People didn’t realize it, but that’s actually the way it had always been, prior to the 20th century. Until the U.S. Supreme Court stretched the idea of due process beyond all recognition.”

Jordan was shaking her head. “But Tiffany, not everyone who’s accused of a crime is guilty. People who are not criminals need the protection of the courts.”

“They have the protection of the state courts,” Tiffany answered. “Why should nine justices in Washington substitute their judgment for the judgment of the states? Do they know better than the people who live there?”

“Let’s not argue,” James said.

“You’re right,” Tiffany nodded. “Ted and Jordan are my guests, and if they want to bring back the crime rates of fifty years ago, I won’t say another word about it.”