Chapter 3
Back at the office, Ava decided to turn to hermost-trusted research tool, the ace in the hole for any investigativejournalist: Google.com.
Asshe typed jack shaw’s name into the search field, she sipped her third DietCoke of the day and kicked her shoes off under her desk.
“JackShaw – technology specialist.”
“JackShaw – Sculptor.”
“JackShaw Ministries International.”
Avarealized that she should have known better than to type such a common name intothe world’s largest search engine. She tried again with “judge jack shaw,”“jack shaw family court” and “jack shaw springfield.”Finally, some results came through that seemed like they might be on the righttrack.
“JudgeJack Shaw takes home state bar award ...”
“JackShaw endorses Myers for Governor ...”
“Formercollege tennis star finds success on another court ...”
NowAva knew why the name had sounded familiar when Rachel mentioned it overcoffee. Jack Shaw wasn’t just a judge, he’s been a great tennis player. Ava hadheard about him from her older sisters who were at the state university aroundthe same time. Lily, her oldest sister, referred to him as “dashing” and evennursed a crush for some of her sophomore year. If Ava remembered correctly,Jack Shaw even played on the pro circuit for awhile, maybe even made it to theopening rounds of the U.S. Open.
“FamilyCourt Judge Jack Shaw knows that love can mean nothing ...”
Avagroaned over the umpteenth cheesy tennis metaphor. These were the kinds ofheadlines she herself would have written and then hung her head in shame.
Fromwhat she gathered, this Jack Shaw was the same local hero and golden boy she’dremembered. Scholar Athlete at State. A couple of respectable, but not stellaryears trying to play pro. Law review. Family practice. Married to a formerhomecoming queen. Appointed to a judge’s seat three years prior. The perfectsqueaky clean, everybody-loves-him politician type.
“Areyou going to kill me now or save the fate for later so you can torture me somemore?”
Avalooked up to see Libby standing in the door.
“Killyou?”
“Formaking you have coffee and listen to story ideas from some whacko?”
“Itwasn’t that bad.”
“Notthat bad?” Libby said. “Have you traded rage for making me feel guilty?”
“No,really,” Ava said. “It wasn’t that bad. I actually kind of enjoyed it.”
“You?”Libby said. “You enjoyed talking to a stranger? About the magazine?’
“Yes,I did,” Ava said. “She had some interesting things to say.”
“Hmph.Well, I guess I don’t owe you that bottle of wine after all.”
“Iwouldn’t go that far,” Ava said. “Any chance I can redeem that IOU tonight?”
“Nocan do.” Ava heard a lower pitched voice coming from the hall. “My wife is minetonight. You’ll have to pick another time for complaining about me and solvingthe world’s problems.’
“HiJake,” Ava said. “I didn’t know you were back there.”
“Idecided to surprise Libby with dinner and a movie tonight,” Jake said. “Ithought she might enjoy a little pampering.” Ava never thought musician-loving,late-night-partying Libby would ever fall for a balding accountant with twochildren from a previous marriage, but Jake and Libby had seemed to be thepicture of happiness throughout their two-year union.
“Aren’tyou a little early for that?” Ava said. “Most people wait until the end of thework day for surprises. You two going to play hookey?”
“Hardly,it’s 5:30 Ava,” Libby said. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“Ididn’t realize,” she said. Ava looked at the clock on her computer’s monitor.She couldn’t believe she’d spent the past four hours looking up info on JackShaw.
“I’dask you to join us Ava,” Jake said. “But I have devious intentions for our dateonce the movie is done.”
“Sayno more,” Ava said. “You two love birds ought to get out of here. I’d hate tohave to hear any more graphic details.”
“I’llget you that bottle of wine,” Libby said. “I promise. Maybe Wednesday?”
“MaybeWednesday,” Ava said. “Now go have fun.”
Libbywinked at Ava as Jake put his arm on the small of her back and guided her awayfrom Ava’s office.
“Yeah,”Jake called. “Maybe Wednesday.”
Turningback to her screen, Ava book marked a few key pages that she wanted to re-visitin the morning. Then she checked her bank balance to make sure there was enoughcash for a quick run to the Publix on the way home. Milothe wonder dog needed more dog chow, and his owner could use some red wine evenif there was no one to share it with.
Lastbut not least, Ava sent Harriet an e-mail to remind her of a Friday meeting. Avacouldn’t care less about the meeting, but she wanted Harriet to have an e-mailfrom her with a time stamp so close to 6:00 p.m. Harriet thought of that asdedication.
Thenshe shut down the computer and headed home.
“Hi Honey, I’m home.” Avapushed the door shut behind her, dropped her purse and grocery bags on theentry table and bent down for all of the kisses Milohad to give.
“HelloMister Milo. Did you miss Mommy?” Milo, theultimate mutt, sat happily at Ava’s feet and wagged his tail. “Mommy broughtyou something special from the grocery store.” Ava picked her grocery bags backup and proceeded down the hallway of her apartment to the kitchen in the back.
Avauncorked a bottle of cabernet, popped a Lean Cuisine in the microwave and put anew rawhide bone in front of Milo, after making him sit for it.
“That’smy boy,” she said, rubbing the top of Milo’shead before her ran off to the living room, new bone in tow.
“You’reall the man I need Milo Carson,” Ava said, in her usual custom of talking outloud to the dog. “Libby may have a husband, but I doubt he’s nearly as obedientas you.”
Avaput the rest of her groceries away – cheese cubes, pretzels, Snackwell’scookies and a 12-pack of Diet Coke – and grabbed her microwaved lasagna andglass of wine to join Milo on the couch.
Afteran hour or so of VH1 programming, Ava grabbed her laptop. She couldn’t imaginethat the Internet only had good things to say about Jack Shaw. The Internetdidn’t only have good things to say about anyone.
For 19 search pages, she read about Judge Shaw’sathletic past, his numerous honors and generous charity affiliations. “Thegolden boy shines again, Milo,” Ava said justbefore she took another sip of her wine.
It wasn’t until the 20thGoogle search page that Ava stumbled upon a story sharing any differentinformation about Judge Shaw. The article itself was no more than a fewsentences, and it was buried in a slew of Metro briefs from two years ago.
Due to a family illness,Judge Jack Shaw of the 3rd district family court plans to take a sixweek leave of absence from his seat. A replacement to handle his caseload inthe mean time will be named within the week, court officials say.
Ava thought about what kind offamily illness would cause a man to take time away from a time-consuming andhigh profile career. Cancer? Was he sick? His wife?
Ava kept reading and discovered thatthe paper’s online format allowed for comments on most all of the stories, nomatter how mundane. And, there it was. The fourth comment on the story, aftertwo spam messages and a seemingly unrelated plug for one of the state’s collegefootball teams, was about Judge Jack Shaw.
DMP2642 wrote: I hope JackShaw’s vacation is permanent. That man needs to be removed from the bench. Inever see my children. They’re always with their father. I worry that he hitsthem -- like he used to hit me.
“Aha,” Ava said out loud to no onebut Milo the Wonder Dog again. Maybe there wassomething to this story after all. As Ava read DMP2642’s last comments, shealready knew that following this lead was about more than her off-coursecareer.
No one will listen to me. Ineed help – for me and my children. Can’t anyone out there do something?