Dealer BewareDealer Beware Author: JDillon Email: jdillon@mail.win.org Rating: PG Summary: Nick's old dealer Colin comes calling at Fallin & Associates. Author's Notes: This story was inspired by an idea in "Causality Continued", but more nearly follows the events depicted in "Privilege", than in my own story. It takes place a week or two after Nick has returned to Fallin & Associates. This story draws in part from facts established in the episode "Lolita?". If you haven't yet seen this episode be warned that you might consider portions of this story a "spoiler" (probably not a huge spoiler, but a spoiler nevertheless). Also, I wish to apologize to any of my readers that have an extensive knowledge of the law and/or the code of ethics lawyers operate under. Not being an expert in this myself, I had to make some guesses about a few things. Hope I didn't get it too wrong. Authors Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of a character in this story to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organization depicted in this story and any such actual organization is purely coincidental. ……………………………… Day 1 Colin walked through the frosted glass doors of "Fallin & Associates". He was wearing a brown suit under his black, knee-length overcoat. He was carrying a briefcase. He took a quick look around, and then walked up to the receptionist's desk. The receptionist, Gretchen, greeted him with a smile. "May I help you, Sir?" Colin smiled pleasantly. "Hi. Yeah. I'm here to see Nick Fallin." "Is he expecting you, Mr. ..." "Ross. Colin Ross. No, he isn't expecting me." "Just a moment, please". Colin glanced around, taking in the clean, but elegant decor. "Nice...", he found himself thinking. "Sir?... Mr. Fallin says he will be right out." "Great. Thanks." Possibly thirty seconds had passed when Nick came striding up, his face set in a determined, unpleasant expression. As he approached, Colin called out, "Nick! Good to see you, man". Nick walked right up to Colin, and without a word, grabbed his arm and began escorting him back out the glass doors of "Fallin & Associates". Only after they were several feet down the hallway did he allow Colin to stop. "Hey, hey, take it easy, man.", Colin said, shrugging off Nick's hand. "What are you doing here?!", Nick demanded angrily. "Just saying 'hi', that's all. Cunningham told me you were back at your old man's firm. Thought I'd check it out since I was in the neighborhood. Ya know, see your digs." Nick's eyes narrowed, as he shook his head in disbelief. "I want you to leave. Now. And I never want to see you back here again. Understand?" "Sure, sure, if that's the way you want it, Nick. No problem. I just thought, ya know, it's been a while since you paid me that last visit, and I thought I'd return the favor. So, ah, how'd you like that little gift I gave you last time, anyway? Pretty sweet, huh? It's called "Bolivian Beauty". Packs quite a kick, don't it?" Nick looked down at the floor as he struggled to control himself. His instinct was to grab Colin and hurl him against the nearest wall. "Look, just leave, all right? Just leave. And from now on stay away from this office and from me." Nick was just beginning this last sentence as Burton walked out the doors from "Fallin & Associates". He stopped when he saw Nick a little ways down the hallway, engaged in heated conversation with a man he didn't know. As soon as Nick realized that his father had come through the door, he stopped the conversation abruptly. A flush began to rise in his face, and he looked down, distraught. Colin turned around to see who it was that had caught Nick's atttention so absolutely. Burton, who had heard his son's last angry words, said, "Nicholas, who is this?" Nick didn't reply, but Colin turned to Burton, and extended his hand with a friendly smile. "Mr. Fallin, right? Hi, I'm an old friend of Nick's. We were just doing some catching up. Well, ya know, I should really be going. Catch you later, Nick, okay? Nice to meet you Mr. Fallin. Bye now." Nick stole a sideways look at his father, as Colin headed for the open elevator doors. Burton gazed at his son intently, and said, "Who was that, Nick?" Nick remained silent, and Burton asked again, slightly louder, "Nicholas, who was that man?" Realizing that he'd given his word to tell his father if Colin ever contacted him again, he forced the words out. "He's, he's my old dealer. " Burton's face showed a mixture of anger and disgust. "I, I didn't invite him here, Dad", Nick continued urgently. "He, ah, he just showed up. I told him never to-" "What's his name?", Burton demanded. "What?", Nick asked in confusion. "What's his name?" "Colin. Colin Ross. Why?" Burton didn't answer, just gave his son a final long look, and headed for the elevator. Nick stared disconsolately after him for a moment, then drew in a breath, and walked back in the doors of "Fallin & Associates". ………………………………. Burton stood motionless, hands behind his back, in front of the large window in his office. He was obviously deep in thought. Suddenly he seemed to come to some kind of decision. He reached in his briefcase for his personal address book, quickly located the number he wanted, and dialed the phone. "Hello, this is Burton Fallin. I'd like to speak with Jack if he's in.... Thank you." "Jack! Hi, it's Burton Fallin.... Fine, fine. How are you?... That's great, just great. Look Jack there's something I need to talk to you about. I was wondering if we could meet tonight, somewhere, ah, somewhere private.... Okay, yeah, I know where that is. That would be fine... What time's good for you?... Okay, 8:00 it is. Looking forward to it. Bye." Burton sat down at his desk, and stared off into space for a moment before returning his attention to the papers laid out in front of him. …………………………………. Burton walked into the restaurant, and smiled at the hostess. "Hi, I'm here to meet Jack Harmon". "Certainly, sir. Right this way." The hostess led him to a small private room at the back of the restaurant. At the door, the hostess relieved him of his coat and hat. As Burton walked into the room, a man of about his own age stood up, and extended his hand. Jack Harmon was a longtime labor leader in Pittsburgh. For years, he had been the president of the "American Confederation of Steelworkers", but had stepped down to a less taxing position in recent times. He smiled broadly, and said, "Burton. It's great to see you. It's been a long time." Burton returned his smile. "Hi, Jack. Yeah, a real long time. How've you been?" "Oh, can't really complain. You know how it is, you get to be our age, and the plumbing starts to go. Other than that, I'm holding my own." He gestured to the other empty chair, and said, "Sit. Sit." Burton sat down as the waitress appeared at his elbow. "Sir, what can I get you to drink." "Scotch and soda", Burton replied. The hostess left, and Burton said, "So, what's good here, Jack?" "Pretty much everything. Try the scampi. It's excellent." "Okay". The two men made small talk until the waitress returned. She took their order, and as she turned to leave Jack said, "Honey, we're going to need some privacy here. Would you shut the door, and please knock before you come back in. Okay?" "Certainly, Mr. Harmon." Jack leaned back in his chair, and said, "So, Burton. What did you want to see me about?" Burton looked at Jack intently for a moment, then replied. "Well, it's a bit of a delicate matter, Jack. It involves my son, Nicholas. " "Your son? That's right, I remember now. Your son is about my boy Dwayne's age isn't he?" "Yeah, unhuh. I think Dwayne was a year or two older than Nick." "That sounds right. So how is Nick?" "Oh, he's, ah, he's fine. For the most part, he's fine." Burton looked down for a second, and then back up to meet his friend's eyes. "I don't know if you saw it in the papers, or not, Jack, but about a year ago Nick was arrested on a drug charge." "No I didn't see that. I'm sorry to hear it", Jack said. "Well, we, ah, got the charge reduced to a misdemeanor, with community service. He's been doing really well up to now. Staying away from the drugs, working hard." Burton paused, and his voice grew louder despite himself, as he said, "But now the son-of-a-bitch dealer who got him hooked on the stuff has been coming back around. Trying to tempt Nick back to using the drugs. Trying to wreck everything we've, he's, tried so hard to rebuild." "I see.", Jack said, into the silence that followed. "I can't let it happen again, Jack. I can't. Nicholas is... Nicholas is my son. He's all I've got. I'm not going to let that god-damn vulture get his claws into him again. " Burton cleared his throat. "That's why I'm here. I, ah, need your help." Jack nodded, and said "Well, you know you can count on me, Burton. We go back a long way, you and I. Back to the days when we tried to organize the workers at 'Clayton Steel'. Geez, that was what, more than 45 years ago now? Doesn't seem possible does it?" Burton shook his head. "No. No, it doesn't." "We thought we had the world by the tail back then, didn't we? Thought we could take on any comers, and win. We sure learned differently though." Burton shakes his head in agreement, and says, "Yeah". Jack spread his hands, and asked, "So, how can I help you, Burton?" Burton's voice grew hard. "I want you to help me persuade this scumbag dealer to leave Nick alone. I thought you might know a couple of people who excel at that kind of thing." A slow smile spread over Jack's face. "I do. How thoroughly do you want him 'persuaded'?" Burton did not return Jack's smile. His face was grim. "I'm not talking about any permanent damage, you understand. I don't want that. I just want to convince this piece of vermin that there are better fish to fry than my son." Jack nodded. "Okay. What's this dealer's name?" "Colin Ross". "Do you know where he lives?" "No." "No matter. Shouldn't be a problem. But, let me ask you, Burton, why don't you just have the cops deal with this guy? It seems like it ought to be easy enough to get a dealer like this off the streets." "I can't go to the police... There are reasons I can't go into, Jack. I'm sorry." "I understand. And don't worry. I'll take care of it. I know if our positions were reversed, you'd do whatever you could to help Dwayne." "You bet." The two old friends spend the rest of the evening enjoying their meal, discussing old times, and how much the world had changed around them. ……………………………………. Day 2 - night Colin came down the exterior stairs from his apartment building, and headed for his car. Suddenly two large figures approached him from out of the darkness. "Colin Ross?", one said. "Yeah." "We need you to come with us, Mr. Ross.", the first man said, taking Colin's arm. "What's this about?", Colin said, his voice rising. "Just come with us, please, Mr. Ross.", the first man replied, as they began to walk toward a nearby car. Colin went along with the men, but kept peppering them with questions. To his surprise, instead of stopping at the car, they walked past it, and into the adjoining alley. As they entered the alley, the second man grabbed Colin by the other arm. "Hey, hey, what is this?!", Colin said, beginning to get frightened, and struggling a little in their grasp. "We're here to deliver a message, Mr. Ross." "A message? What message?! A message from who?!" "Burton Fallin. He wants you to stay away from his son. We're here to convince you of the wisdom of that decision." Colin was really frightened now. "Okay, okay, no problem. I'll stay away from Nick. It's not a problem. Really." "I'm afraid your word is not good enough, Mr. Ross. We have orders to inflict a little 'positive reinforcement'." As he finished this statement, Man number two delivered a sharp blow to Colin's abdomen. The air rushed out of Colin's lungs with a "whoosh", as he doubled over in pain. Man number one changed his hold on Colin so that he now held him with both arms pinned behind his back. He kept him upright as Man number two began to pummel Colin with blows. After a few minutes of this, they released Colin, and watched him drop limply to the ground. Man number two stood and brushed one hand against the other a few times, as is he were wiping dirt off his hands. Then the two men left the alley, leaving behind a bleeding, unconscious Colin. …………………………………. Day 3 - afternoon Nick was alone working in his office when the phone rang. "Mr. Fallin, there's a Colin Ross on the phone for you. He says it's important." Nick grimaced, but said, "Put him through." In a couple seconds he heard Colin's voice coming across the line. "Nick it's Colin". His voice sounded weak, but this barely registered with Nick. He barreled in immediately with, "I told you not to come near me again. That includes phone calls." "Nick, listen to me, man." Colin coughed a couple times, then continued. "Look, I just called to say that you can tell your old man I got his message. Okay?" He coughed again. "What? What are you talking about?", Nick said, but Colin had hung up. Nick starred quizzically at the receiver in his hand for a moment. Then slowly returned it to its cradle. He sat still for another few seconds trying to make sense of Colin's words, then got up abruptly and headed down the hall to Burton's office. Sheila was not at her desk so Nick knocked once on his father's door, and then entered the office. Burton looked up when Nick entered, said, "Hey", and then returned his attention to the documents in front of him. Nick walked up to his father's desk, but did not take his customary chair. Instead, he stood looking down at his father, hands in pants pockets, waiting impatiently for his father's attention to switch back to him. After a second, Burton realized that Nick was still standing, and put down his pen. "What is it son?" Nick directed a level gaze at his father, and said, "I just got a phone call from Colin Ross. He told me I should tell you that he 'got your message'." "Uhmm", Burton said. "What did he mean by that?" "It means he's not going to be bothering you anymore, Nicholas, that's all." "Why? What did you do?" "It's not important, son. The important thing is that this viper is going to be leaving you alone from now on. Nick continued to look Burton in the eye, and said levelly, "I want to know why. Did you threaten him with something?" Burton didn't reply. "Did you pay him off, is that it?" Burton made a disgusted sound, "You think I'd give money to a blood-sucking leech like that?" "Well, what then." "Nicholas, we're not going to have this discussion. So, just drop it, okay?" Nick's voice rose in agitation. "No. I, I have a right to know what you did. It's my life. I can deal with my own problems". Burton sighed, and replied, "I don't think you've been doing such a good job of that lately, son. Do you?" Nicholas shot his father a venomous look, and stalked out of the office, barely resisting the temptation to slam the door behind him. Burton shook his head, sighed heavily, and returned to his paperwork. Nick returned to his office, and shut the door. He paced back and forth, too angry to sit still. As he paced, thoughts raced through his mind: "Dad... Dad doesn't think I can take care of myself. He doesn't trust me... He thinks I'll go back to using if Colin isn't out of the picture... He thinks he can fight my battles for me, but he can't. I know he can't." After a few minutes, he stopped pacing, checked his watch, and realized he was about to be late for a shelter hearing. He grabbed his briefcase, and raced out the door. ……………………………….. Throughout the afternoon, Nick's thoughts turned again and again to the situation with Colin. "What had Dad done? He knew he wouldn't go to the cops. So what? Had he threatened Colin? If so, with what?" By the time Nick left work that evening he knew he had to find out for himself what kind of "message" his father had sent to Colin. He hadn't seen his father again that day, and was grateful. He really didn't want to get into it with his dad again, and knew he wouldn't have been able to prevent himself if he seen him. ………………………………… It was nearly 7:00 when Nick pulled up in front of Colin's building. His heart rate immediately increased, and he could feel a surge of adrenalin racing through his veins. He knew coming here was foolish. It was also dangerous, in more ways than one. But he couldn't just "let it drop" like his father wanted him to. He had to know what Burton had done, what he was holding over Colin's head. He sat in the car a few minutes, building up his resolve to NOT do any coke tonight, to not let Colin present him with another one of those perilously enticing little packets. As the interior of the car began to cool off, he decided there was no use putting it off any longer, and he stepped out of the car. He looked around him, but no one was in sight. He walked into the building, and took the elevator to Colin's floor. As he stood at the apartment door, he drew a couple deep breaths, and then knocked. After a minute, he heard a groan, and the door swung open. Colin stood there, leaning his weight heavily on the door. His face was so swollen and discolored as to be almost unrecognizable. One eye was swollen shut, and the other nearly so. Involuntarily, Nick winced in pain at the sight, memories of his own recent beating filling his head. "What are you doing here, man? Did you come to gloat over your father's handiwork?" It took a second for Nick to process what Colin had said, as the words coming out of his damaged mouth were hard to understand. "My father.. My father had you beaten up.", Nick said, half statement, half question, his startlement showing clearly on his face. "Yeah. That's right... Man, I never figured your old man for a guy with connections. I thought he'd be the straight-arrow, by-the-book type. Guess I know now I was wrong." Nick stood there for another 20 or 30 seconds staring at Colin. Part of him wanted to ask how bad the beating had been. Had they broken any ribs? Caused him any permanent damage? But, somehow, he couldn't bring himself to ask. He didn't really want to know. So with a murmured, "I'm sorry", he turned and left. Nick returned to the car, started the engine, and sat staring into space for a few moments before pulling away from the curb. His father had had Colin beaten up! Had paid some thugs to beat the tar out of him! Part of him was amazed that his father, who really was a straight-arrow despite this aberration, would do this. Almost without realizing it, Nick found himself headed for his father's house. ………………………………… As he pulled into the circular driveway, he was overwhelmed with memories of the last time he had been here: waking up on his father's couch to the smell of pancakes and coffee... how his head had felt like it was ready to come off... how, at the time, he almost had wished it had.... how his father had invited him, no really "told" him he was coming back to the firm.... He shook his head at the memories. He knew his father had treated him like the prodigal son, when he really didn't deserve it. Not after all the bullshit he had pulled. He made a promise to himself to not lose his temper with his father tonight, and climbed out of the car. He walked up and rang the bell. After about two minutes, Burton opened the door. With a smile of surprise, Burton greeted his son enthusiastically, "Nicholas. Well hi. What are you doing here? Come on, come on in." Nick walked inside. Burton said, "You want some coffee, or something? Or dinner? I've had mine, but there are plenty of leftovers. Rosita made "Enchiladas Ranchero" tonight. That was always one of your favorites." Nick started to refuse automatically, but then stopped himself. He was hungry, and he really did like Rosita's enchiladas. "Okay, thanks." "So you'll have some then?", Burton asked, to make sure he'd understood Nick correctly. "Yeah." "Okay, well come on into the kitchen while I heat them up." Nick followed Burton into the kitchen. Nick was silent as his dad pulled the enchiladas out of the refrigerator, and placed them in the toaster oven. "Coffee?", Burton said. "Yes, please.", Nick replied, falling automatically into old habits while standing in his father's kitchen. This was the house he had grown up in, after all. As strange as it seemed, his father had actually bought the house from him, or rather from his trust, after his mother's death. His mother had gotten the house in the divorce settlement, and as her only heir, it had become his on her death. He only vaguely remembered the whole transaction. He was only twelve after all, still awash in grief over his mother's death, and not concerned with financial matters of any kind. As the trustee of his trust, he knew his father could have paid much less than market value for the house, if he had wanted to. After all, who would have questioned it? But he was sure that wasn't the case. His father would have paid a fair price, even though many people would have said he was, in essence, paying for the same house twice. Nick and Burton sipped at their coffee as they waited for the enchiladas to get hot. "That's one thing you can say about my father", Nick thought to himself, and smiled slightly, "He always makes a good cup of coffee." Neither father or son said anything. Nick had decided not to bring up the topic of Colin until after dinner, and he was likewise sure that his father was not going to inquire as to why he had come over until then either. For the most part, it was a comfortable silence that both men seemed loath to break. Finally the timer went off, and Burton transferred the enchiladas to a plate, and led Nick into the dining room. "Here you go, son. Eat up." "Thanks." As he ate, his father began to talk to him about one of their current cases. They stayed on that safe subject of conversation until Nick had finished eating. As Burton picked up Nick's plate, he saw that Nick had literally "wiped the plate clean". A smile broke out on his face, and Nick quickly realized the cause. That too had been an oft-repeated dictate from childhood, "Clean your plate, Nicholas". His head went down, but not before his father saw the half-embarrassed smile that graced his son's lips. Burton returned with the coffee pot, and refilled both their cups. Nick knew that the time had come for him to initiate the "Colin discussion", but it had been such a stress-free interlude with his father, that he almost hated to bring it up. However, he also wanted some answers. So finally he began. "I saw Colin tonight. Whoever those guys were, they really did a number on him. His face looked like somebody ran it with a Mac truck." Burton asked hurriedly, "You saw Colin where?" "At his apartment." Burton said angrily, "My God, Nicholas! You went to his apartment? You know how reckless that was, don't you? Not only is it a violation of your probation, but what if this Colin had had is own goons there? What if he'd decided to take a little revenge out on you? What then?" Nick remained calm, despite his father's outburst. He was going to do his best to keep his promise to himself, and not lose his temper. "Colin doesn't have goons. Well, at least, if he has some, I've never seen them at his apartment." He stopped as he realized this was probably NOT the best thing to have said, to remind his father of how often he had been in that apartment in the past. "Anyway", he continued, "you wouldn't tell me what I wanted to know so I went to the source. Isn't that what you always used to tell me about practicing law? If you want the straight story go to the source?" "Son...", Burton let out an exasperated breath. " All right, so now you know. Now you know I had someone administer a beating to that disgusting vermin. It's a lot less than he deserves, let me tell you!" "Who?, Nick asked. Who did you have beat him up?' Burton didn't answer. "Did you pay someone?... Colin said you must have "connections"... Is that true?", Nick didn't really believe this could be the case, but he asked the question anyway. Burton looked at his son for a long moment, then said resignedly. "Son, you really don't need to know the details. I'm asking you again to drop the subject." "I can't. " Burton didn't say anything for a minute, then grimaced, and said. "All right, but you realize I'm making you 'an accessory after the fact' by telling you this." "Yes." Burton took a second to collect his thoughts, and then began. "You know that when I worked at "Clayton Steel" I was involved in an attempt to unionize the mill." "Yes." "Well, a guy by the name of Jack Harmon and I were the main instigators. Jack was a real fire-brand in those days... I guess we both were really. But Jack,... Jack, he wasn't afraid of anything." Burton smiled at the memory. "You know, Clayton Sr. really played hardball back then. He did everything he could to keep the union out. Hired thugs. Made threats. All of us involved in the leadership were in danger of being roughed up, even severely beaten, if we got careless." He looked up at Nick as they both shared the same thought: "severely beaten like Colin". "We did all we could, but in the end, Clayton won. The union stayed out. You know part of what happened after that. Clayton fired your grandfather. He never worked again." Burton's voice trailed off as the painful memory of his father's descent into alcoholism returned. "Well, anyway, Jack and I parted ways after that. I went back to college. Jack kept up his work with the union. He had some successes, and rose up pretty quickly through the ranks. Eventually, he became president of the "American Confederation of Steelworkers". Burton paused before continuing. "So when I decided I wanted to teach this drug dealer scum a lesson, I knew Jack was the guy to see. " He paused again. "That's basically it, son. I asked an old friend for a favor I knew he could deliver." Nick had been quiet throughout his father's explanation. Now he said, "What you did... It was illegal. You took an oath. As an officer of the court, you took an oath to uphold the law... If this came out you could loose your license." "I know." "Then why'd you do it?" Burton smiled at his son in exasperation, "Nicholas, if you ever have a child of your own maybe you'll understand. You're my son. Maybe I haven't been the best father to you, but you're still my son, my only child. I'd do a lot worse than solicit an assault on some low-life if it meant keeping you from harm. Can you understand that?" Nick exhaled a long breath, and shook his head in the affirmative, as he spoke the word out loud, "Yes". His father smiled at him, and said, "Well there you go." END