There was some mention of the parties on websites for people in the area into alternative lifestyles. Even though they were underground, they were considered “open” parties in that you didn’t have to be a member of a club or anything. You just had to pay a fee and have someone who the party organizer, presumably Ms. Hill, knew vouch for you. Everyone wore masks so it was anonymous and there were rumors that some of the guests were “professionals.” The parties seemed to be loosely associated with a place called Gili’s Cabaret. I made a note of it and figured that we may have to check it out.
It occurred to me, if you were a politician into kink you couldn’t exactly just stroll into a fetish club. If you wanted to get kinky with a bunch of other people it would have to be at a private party. So, if there was any truth to the kink rumors, it would make sense that Cole might be attending these little get-togethers. An idea was forming in my head. It was kind of nutty, but then so was I.
Jess and Cam got back a little while later and I shared what I had learned with them.
“Are those parties even real?” Jess asked dubiously. “I always suspected it was some kind of urban legend.”
“They’re real,” Cam answered. “I have a cousin who’s attended them.” I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Not Braden,” he said quickly and smiled. “Derek. He’s kind of the black sheep of the family.” I recalled Braden’s comment that I should never meet his cousin Derek.
“Do you think he could vouch for you?” I asked.
“Uh, well, I’m sure that whoever runs them knows him, and he probably could,” Cam replied hesitantly. “Even if I got in, though, how would I get Cole to give me a handwriting sample?”
“You wouldn’t. Jess would. He likes to be treated like a naughty boy. So, maybe she could treat him like one.” I outlined my plan for them.
“Oh no! No, no, no, uh uh, nope, forget it,” Jess said.
“Oh come on! What’s the big deal?” All I wanted was that she dress up like a dominatrix and spank a lecherous politician into writing down why he was a naughty boy. Was that really so much to ask?
“That can’t possibly be a serious question.”
“Nobody will know who you are.”
“Oh! Well why didn’t you say so? I have no problem attending an underground sex party and getting kinky with a perverted stranger to get a writing sample… just as long as nobody knows who I am.”
“You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”
“Is this really worth it, Gabrielle?” She gave me an exasperated look but I knew that I was wearing her down.
“If it is him, I’ll tell him that I have evidence against him and if he wants to maintain his political aspirations he had better never bother me or Braden again. If it isn’t him, he’ll never be the wiser, and I won’t have to risk falsely accusing a public figure.”
“How am I going to get in? I don’t have a kinky cousin.”
“I think you’re allowed to bring your spouse,” Cam said.
“I can’t be the one to do it. Cole knows my voice. Are you going to help me or not, Jess?” I gave her my best pleading look — the one I reserved for those rare times when I actually got a client who was sympathetic if not actually innocent.
“Oh! Okay.” She sighed. “Why not? I’ve never been to an underground sex party before.”
“Thank you! I owe you! And thank you too, Cameron. I owe you both.”
“Oh, no need to thank me Gab. Since I ran into you again my life is no longer boring.” He smiled. “What are you going to tell Braden, though?”
“I don’t want to lie to him. Supposedly the parties are held twice a month. He has a legal training for Pennsylvania law enforcement personnel out in Pittsburgh next weekend. He’ll be away from Friday morning to Sunday morning and there’s a fifty/fifty shot that there’ll be a party then. I’ll just be a little ambiguous about what I’m doing and where I’m going. I need you to have a man-to-man with Derek, Cam. We need details. Lots and lots of details.”
“Okay. Sounds like a plan,” Cam said.
“Go team,” Jess said dryly.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
IN THE COURT OF COMMON PLEAS OF PHILADELPHIA COUNTY
PENNSYLVANIA
Commonwealth v. Whitley
“Your Honor, Mr. Whitley is pleading guilty to indecent exposure,” Braden informed Judge Channing. My client stood next to me looking very contrite. I tried not to stand too close to him. He was looking at me in a way that made me distinctly uncomfortable. Inner-Gabrielle sighed. I loved my job sometimes. And I really didn’t mean that.
“You understand the charge, Mr. Whitley, and that you have a right to trial?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“And you wish to waive that right and enter a plea of guilty?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Mr. Whitley answered solemnly. He really was a rather dignified-looking guy. He was even wearing a suit. Looks could be deceiving though.
“Mr. Pierce, please give me the facts of the case.” I tried not to cringe.
“Your Honor, in the early morning hours of May third in the County of Philadelphia, Mr. Todd Whitley drove his automobile through the drive-through lane of a Burger King Restaurant on Broad Street where one LaTanya Wilson was working the late shift. Mr. Whitley placed an order and pulled up to the window. When Ms. Wilson leaned out to collect his money, she saw that he was holding his genitals in his hand and he reportedly asked her, and I quote, ‘Hey baby, do you want to hold my whopper?’ unquote. He then drove off and Ms. Wilson noted his license plate number and contacted the authorities.”
“Mr. Whitley,” Judge Channing said in a reproving voice. “Couldn’t you come up with something more original than that?” Judge Channing looked like he had a bad case of indigestion. “Don’t answer that! Ms. Ginsberg?” he asked, sounding both bored and disgusted.
“Mr. Whitley has no criminal record. He’s a college student studying hospitality management.” Stupid frat boy. I was careful not to mention that he was an upstanding citizen. “He regrets his actions.” Yeah right. Ew.
“Mr. Todd Whitley, you’ve indicated that you understand the charge and you wish to plead guilty. There’s an agreement with the DA’s office?”
“A year probation and sex offender classes, fines and costs,” Braden answered.