The Trial of the Wilkinson Family Chapter 3

Reese leaned forward in his chair, looking directly at Mr. Thompson. "What steps do we take next, and what would the total cost be? Just because I'm a billionaire doesn't mean I want to squander money. I come from a nearly poor family, and I want to be responsible with my finances."

Mr. Thompson nodded, adjusting his glasses as he pulled out a notepad. "Well, the initial retainer fee for handling this case will be around $5,000, and from there, we'll need to assess the costs associated with filing the necessary legal documents and any court fees. Depending on how contentious your parents are, it could escalate from there."

Reese considered this for a moment before nodding. "That sounds reasonable. I agree."

After finalizing the arrangements with Mr. Thompson, Reese and Liz made their way to an accountant's office, hoping to sort out the financial aspects of his newfound wealth. As they entered, the accountant looked up, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of Reese in a suit with a child by his side.

"What can I do for you?" the accountant asked, scepticism evident in his tone.

"I'm here to discuss my finances and get some advice on managing my inheritance," Reese replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

The accountant's expression shifted, and he suddenly seemed suspicious. "Are you sure you're the right person for this? I mean, you're just a kid, and I've heard stories about you—"

Before he could finish, the accountant picked up the phone and called the police, claiming that he suspected Reese was involved in something illegal.

Moments later, the cops arrived, their presence filling the room with an air of intimidation. Reese felt a knot tighten in his stomach, but he stood his ground. "What's going on?" one of the officers barked, looking between Reese and Liz.

"We just want to talk to you," another officer added, crossing his arms. "You know, about your… reputation."

Reese took a deep breath and pulled out the legal documents proving his guardianship of Liz. "I'm her guardian now. I have the legal right to be here, and I'm not doing anything wrong."

The officers exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by the paperwork. "We'll need to verify that," one of them said, but Reese could see their confidence wavering.

"Are you done with your nonsense?" Reese shot back, his irritation bubbling to the surface. "Or do I have to get Liz here to call you a poopy head to leave?"

Liz giggled at his words, the tension in the room easing slightly as she hugged Reese's leg, seeking comfort. "Don't worry, Reese. I know you're not a bad guy," she said, her voice soft but steady.

The officers exchanged glances again, their demeanour shifting as they processed the situation. "Alright, let's just take a moment to calm down," one of them said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "We're just doing our job."

Reese gave them a bored expression, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement. "Yeah, well, your job shouldn't involve harassing a kid and his niece. So, if you're done, I'd like to get back to discussing my finances."

The officers, realizing they were outmatched, nodded and stepped back, allowing Reese and Liz to continue their conversation with the accountant.

"Know what? Screw this," Reese said, shaking his head in frustration. "We can find an accountant who isn't a poopy head. Right, Liz?"

Liz looked up at him, her eyes brightening at the term. "Bye, poopy money man!" she called out, waving cheerfully at the accountant who had just tried to undermine them.

As they turned to leave, the police officers exchanged glances, still hovering in the doorway. Reese pulled out the legal documents, showing them overwhelming proof of his guardianship. "Look, if you bother me again, I will sue you into the Stone Age. So are we done here or not?"

The officers, realizing they had no grounds to pursue anything, nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, we're done," one of them said, stepping back to allow Reese and Liz to exit.

Once outside, they decided to try another accountant. As they entered the new office, Reese felt a familiar sense of dread creeping in. The accountant looked up, and for a moment, he appeared sceptical, sizing them up as if he were about to pull the same stunt as the last one.

"Can I help you?" the accountant asked, his tone cautious.

Reese, feeling exasperated, pulled out his two wills and the police card, holding them up for the accountant to see. "Look, poopy head, me and Liz can buy your entire building! Do we look like thieves? No? So don't try that hoodlum crap with me."

The accountant's eyes widened as he processed the documents and the intensity of Reese's words. He glanced at Liz, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes, clearly confused by the adult conversation.

"Uh, I—" the accountant stammered, realizing he had misjudged the situation. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply—"

Reese cut him off, his voice firm but not unkind. "Apologize. Liz deserves to be treated with respect, and so do I."

The accountant cleared his throat, his demeanour shifting as he recognized the gravity of the situation. "I apologize," he said sincerely, looking directly at Liz. "I didn't mean to offend you or your guardian. Let's start over."

Reese nodded, feeling a small sense of victory. "Thank you. We're here to discuss my finances and how to manage my inheritance for Liz's future."

As they settled into the office, Reese felt a sense of relief wash over him. Maybe this time, things would go differently. He was determined to create a stable environment for Liz, and he wouldn't let anyone stand in their way.

As they began to discuss financial strategies, Reese's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID. It was a friend of Malcolm's, and his stomach dropped as he answered.

"Hey, what's going on?" Reese asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Reese, you need to listen to me," the voice on the other end said urgently. "The whole family has been arrested. The police are looking for you. They think you're behind it, and they've even put a warrant out for you. Malcolm said you were responsible!"

Reese felt his blood boil at the mention of his brother. "Well, that's very interesting you say that, considering I moved out and have my own place now. Also, that public assembly where my inheritance and my circumstances were made so public? Those idiot cops should have realized I don't live there anymore! And my damn brother is a lying coward!"

He ended the call, frustration boiling within him. He turned to Liz, who was watching him with wide eyes. "We have to go," he said firmly, picking her up and holding her close. "I can't let them pin this on me. Let's tell the accountant we need to leave."

"Is everything okay?" the accountant asked, concern etched on his face.

"No, it's not," Reese replied, his tone clipped. "I need to get Liz somewhere safe. I can't deal with this right now."

As they hurried out of the office, Reese felt a wave of determination wash over him. He wouldn't let the police or anyone else dictate his life. He was Liz's guardian now, and he would protect her at all costs.

Reese walked into the police station with Liz by his side, both dressed sharply in their matching outfits. Liz wore a black blazer that mirrored Reese's suit, giving her a sense of confidence despite the tense situation. As they entered the bustling precinct, Reese felt a mix of determination and anxiety.

He marched up to the police captain and the smug prosecutor, who were deep in conversation about the family and their supposed criminal activities. They were discussing the case, outlining their plan of attack, and it was clear that Reese was their target number one.

"Hi!" Reese called out, his voice cutting through their conversation. "Apparently, I'm some master criminal who orchestrated a party while I was at a meeting with an accountant with my niece. Care to explain this, you morons?"

The captain and the prosecutor turned to face him, their expressions shifting from confidence to surprise as they took in the sight of Reese in a suit alongside Liz. The prosecutor raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. "You're Reese? The 'little hoodlum' we've been hearing about?"

"Yeah, that's me," Reese replied, crossing his arms defiantly. "And I'm here to clear my name. You think I'm involved in this mess? I've been busy trying to take care of my niece, who just lost her parents."

Liz stood beside him, her small frame radiating determination. "I'm not a problem!" she added, her voice strong for someone so young.

The captain exchanged a glance with the prosecutor, a hint of uncertainty creeping into their demeanour. "We didn't expect to see you here," the captain said, trying to regain some authority. "We have serious concerns about your involvement—"

"Serious concerns?" Reese interrupted, his frustration bubbling over. "You're seriously mistaken. I just came from a meeting with my accountant, and I have all the documentation to prove it. If you want to investigate anything, start with my family, not me."

The prosecutor smirked, trying to regain control of the situation. "You think a suit makes you innocent? We have reports suggesting otherwise."

Reese held up the documents, feeling the weight of the moment. "This suit represents a new chapter for me. I'm not the kid you think I am. I'm a guardian now, and I'm here to protect my niece. So, are we going to have a civilized conversation, or do I need to get a lawyer involved?"

The tension in the room thickened, and Reese could see the wheels turning in their minds as they processed his words.

Reese stepped forward, getting right in the prosecutor's face, his anger boiling over. "Apparently, you have your head so far up your ass that you failed to notice I don't live at the address where the party took place, you idiot! And before you say anything about my stuff being at that house, let me clarify that is my family house, where I used to live. I was last there a few days ago trying to get my things before my mother assaulted me and denied me entry!"

He leaned in closer, his voice low and intense. "Now, how can I orchestrate a party and be the mastermind behind all this if I'm not even on speaking terms with my family? Did you figure that out? Also, I have a child I'm caring for, and I don't have time for this crap!"

The prosecutor stood frozen, momentarily taken aback by Reese's confrontation. The captain shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Reese took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. He was done being underestimated and dismissed. He was determined to protect Liz and clear his name, no matter what it took.

"Here's what's going to happen," Reese said, his voice steady and commanding. "You will take my statement, and you will listen as I provide evidence and proof of why your story is full of crap. You might lose your job over this. I can't believe how a prosecutor could be so incompetent at their job."

He leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto the prosecutor's. "You do realize I was outed as a homeowner and a guardian for this little lady here in front of a thousand people at a school assembly just a few days ago? So, idiot, you know what that means? I have a potential thousand witnesses who can tell you I live somewhere else."

Reese took a breath, feeling the weight of the moment. "I'm also shocked you didn't question why I wasn't arrested at the same time as my idiot family. If I'm such a mastermind behind all this, wouldn't it make sense to arrest me too?"

The prosecutor opened his mouth to respond, but Reese cut him off. "I'm not here to play games. I'm here to protect my niece and clear my name. So, are you going to listen, or do I need to escalate this further?"

The tension in the room was palpable as the officers' exchanged glances, the gravity of Reese's words sinking in. He stood firm, ready to fight for what was right.

Reese pulled out the two wills, laying them on the desk in front of the prosecutor. "Here are the documents that prove my guardianship of Liz," he said, his tone firm. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the deed to Sasha's house. "And this is the deed to Sasha's house. I can put you in touch with the headmaster of my school, who was at the assembly. Also, Captain, two of your officers were there at the assembly; they can account for where I was that day. They heard my outing as a homeowner and a guardian for Liz here."

The prosecutor glanced at Liz, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes. "You're a poopy head," she declared, her small voice cutting through the tension in the room.

Reese smirked, his heart warming at her innocent remark. "I love you, Liz. We'll get pizza after this, don't you worry." He turned back to the prosecutor, a hint of amusement in his voice. "And maybe, Liz, you see how I'm dealing with two authority figures who can't see the truth when it's staring them in the face?"

The prosecutor's expression shifted, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he processed the evidence laid before him. "This is… unexpected," he admitted, glancing between Reese and the documents.

Reese leaned forward, his voice low and intense. "You need to understand that I'm not the criminal you think I am. I'm here to protect Liz, and I'm not going to let you or anyone else stand in my way.

Reese took a deep breath and began recounting his side of the story, detailing everything that had transpired and how he had come to be Liz's guardian. As he laid out the facts, the prosecutor began checking the documents Reese had provided. With each piece of evidence, Reese could see the realization dawning on the prosecutor's face, and it was clear he was struggling to reconcile this new information with his preconceived notions of Reese.

"Wait a minute," the prosecutor stammered, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You're telling me you're a billionaire? And you own a manor? This is absurd!" He threw his hands up in frustration, clearly losing his composure.

Reese couldn't help but smirk at the prosecutor's reaction. "Captain, please take my statement," he said, turning his attention to the captain, who seemed equally taken aback by the unfolding situation.

The captain nodded, motioning for Reese to continue. As Reese spoke, the captain listened intently, his expression shifting from scepticism to concern as he absorbed the information about the inheritance and the legal documents.

"Even after all this, you don't believe me?" Reese asked, a hint of challenge in his voice. "I can put you in contact with the lawyer who drafted the will and was there the day it was read."

The captain raised an eyebrow, clearly contemplating the implications of Reese's words. "I'll need to verify everything you've said," he replied slowly. "But I can't ignore the evidence you've presented."

Reese leaned forward; his tone serious. "I want that warrant withdrawn. Are there charges against me, Captain? Please answer, and will they be withdrawn after all this evidence?"

The captain sighed, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at the prosecutor. "As of now, there are no charges filed against you, but the warrant was issued based on your family's statements. Once we verify your claims, I'll do everything in my power to have it withdrawn."

Reese nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate that. I just want to focus on taking care of Liz and moving forward."

The captain took a moment to verify the information Reese had provided, and after a thorough review, it was proven true. He turned to the prosecutor, his expression stern. "Save us from any more embarrassment and apologize to him now. You'll be lucky if we don't get sacked for this."

The prosecutor's face flushed with humiliation as he stammered, "I—uh, I apologize, Reese. I didn't mean to make assumptions without the full picture."

Reese nodded, feeling a sense of vindication. "Thank you. Now, I want that warrant withdrawn."

The captain nodded, immediately taking action. "I'll withdraw it right now." He quickly made the necessary calls, and Reese felt a weight lift from his shoulders as the captain confirmed the warrant was officially rescinded.

"Captain," Reese continued, his voice steady, "in light of this overwhelming evidence, I would like to have my brother charged with perjury. And my family too, if they also made similar statements. You do realize they lied and made false statements, right? Because of that, you issued a false warrant for my arrest based on those false statements."

The captain nodded, his brow furrowing as he considered Reese's words. "You're right. We will need to look into this further. If your family made false statements, then we can certainly pursue charges."

Reese felt a mix of satisfaction and resolve. "Thank you, Captain. I just want to ensure that the truth is recognized and that Liz and I can move forward without this hanging over our heads."

Liz hugged Reese tightly, seeking comfort in his presence as he glared at the prosecutor. "As you can see," Reese said, his voice steady and filled with conviction, "I'm no hoodlum but a billionaire and a homeowner. I'm also a proud uncle to a great niece. You will tell everyone how wrong you were, and you will spread the word about how I am no hoodlum and no criminal. I am a proud uncle, a homeowner, and a billionaire."

He leaned in closer, his gaze intense. "So tell everyone far and wide. And if this ever happens again, I will sue your ass for every penny you've got. Do you understand me?"

The prosecutor, flustered and cornered, crossed his arms defensively. "Fine, I'll spread the word," he muttered, clearly not pleased with the turn of events.

Reese pressed on, refusing to back down. "Now do me a Favor: tell me what charges my family is facing."

The prosecutor huffed, his frustration evident. "Well, there's a serious situation at hand. A girl died at the party from alcohol poisoning, and your family is involved. They could face charges related to negligence and contributing to a minor's death."

Reese felt the weight of the prosecutor's words settle heavily in the room. "Are you serious? They're blaming me for this?"

"No, but your family's actions are under scrutiny," the prosecutor replied, his tone defensive. "We're looking into everything."

Reese shook his head, anger bubbling up inside him. "This is ridiculous! My family's lies have already caused enough damage. They need to be held accountable for their actions, not me!"

The prosecutor's expression turned serious as he delivered the shocking news. "Reese, this is serious. A girl at the party accused you of rape."

Reese snapped, his anger boiling over. "Well, as you can see, I was not even in the same suburb when the alleged rape took place! What's next? Did she claim Elvis had dinner with her? Did she also accuse me of causing her boyfriend to call her a slut and dump her for being the village bicycle? What a load of nonsense! I hope you had the sense to shoot down her story in light of my overwhelming evidence that I was not even there."

The prosecutor nodded, seemingly taken aback by Reese's fierce defence. "Actually, she later accused Malcolm. She's sticking to that story, but she admitted she lied about you."

Reese felt a wave of relief wash over him, mixed with disbelief. "So now Malcolm is the target? This whole situation is a mess. And what about the damage this has done to my reputation?"

The prosecutor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I understand your frustration, but we still have to follow up on all allegations. It's part of our job."

Reese shook his head, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. "This is ridiculous. I'm not going to let my family's mistakes define me."

The prosecutor nodded, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "She will face charges for making a false statement against you. Her allegations against Malcolm are, of course, now under serious doubt."

Reese couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. "Karma is a bitch, isn't it? My brother made a false statement against me, and now he's falsely accused of rape. Funny how irony and justice work. God, I love karma. Screw my brother. Now, what are my family's charges?"

The prosecutor pulled out a notepad, glancing over the list of charges. "Here's what your family is facing:"

1. Contributing to the delinquency of minors.

2. Providing alcohol to underage individuals.

3. Negligence resulting in harm.

4. Obstruction of justice for making false statements.

5. Possible charges related to the death at the party, pending further investigation.

Reese listened intently, feeling a mix of vindication and sadness. "Thank you for letting me know. I just want to move forward and focus on taking care of Liz."

Reese hugged Liz tightly, feeling a sense of relief and closure. He turned to the prosecutor, his voice steady and resolute. "I want to see the bastards. They made false statements and allegations against me, and they can face the music for all I care. Charge them all you want; you won't have any problem with me in that regard. I'd even be willing to testify if need be, to make them regret crossing me. Regardless, I desire to see them, to tell them their plot failed."

The prosecutor nodded, leading Reese and Liz to the holding area where his family was being kept. As they approached, Reese felt a mix of emotions—anger, betrayal, and vindication—swirling within him.

Standing before the bars, he looked at his family, their faces a mixture of shock and resentment. "Well, look how the mighty have fallen," Reese said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "You're probably used to seeing me behind those bars. How does it feel when the shoe's on the other foot?"

He smirked, feeling a sense of justice in the moment. Lois's face flushed with anger and resentment, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze. "Reese, you don't understand—" she began, but Reese cut her off.

"No, I understand perfectly," he replied, his tone cold. "You tried to set me up, and now you're paying the price. I'm done with your lies and manipulation."

Liz clung to his side, watching the exchange with wide eyes. Reese felt her small hand squeeze his, and he knew he was doing the right thing by standing up for both of them.

Reese stood firm, his gaze unwavering as he addressed his family behind bars. "Fallen indeed. You might wonder why I brought Liz here. Well, it's to teach her a lesson. No, she is not in trouble. It's part of her growing up. I want her to see the price of betrayal, the price of lies, and lying to your family. You fuckers have a lot to answer for, a lot indeed. Those bastard cops and prosecutor believed I was in charge of the bloody party."

He turned to Liz, his voice softening slightly. "Liz, cover your ears." She nodded, placing her hands over her ears as he continued. "Malcolm, see where thinking with your penis gets you? That girl is now accusing you of rape, and she falsely accused me. But it gets better—someone's dead. How the hell did that happen?"

Lois's face twisted with anger and resentment, her eyes narrowing as she met Reese's gaze. "Reese, you don't understand the pressure we're under—"

"No, I understand perfectly," Reese interrupted, his voice cold. "You tried to set me up, and now you're paying the price. I'm done with your lies and manipulation."

He felt Liz tug at his sleeve, her eyes wide with concern. "Reese, can we leave now?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible.

Reese nodded, feeling a sense of closure wash over him. "Yeah, Liz. Let's get out of here."

Reese hugged Liz tightly, feeling the warmth of her small frame against him. "Yeah, Liz, let's go. Let's get away from these poopy heads," he said, casting a final glance at his family behind the bars. "Mother, if you think I'm goanna bust you and your merry band of idiots out, you're out of your mind."

He turned on his heel, walking away with Liz in tow. "Go pay for your own defence, and also, I might testify against you in court, Mother," he called back over his shoulder, his voice steady and resolute.

As they walked away, he could hear the murmurs of anger and resentment from Lois, Hal, Dewey, and Francis, their faces twisted with indignation. Reese smirked, feeling a sense of vindication as he left them to face the consequences of their actions.

Lois's gaze shifted to Liz, her expression softening slightly, but Liz stood her ground, her voice clear and unwavering. "You tried to hurt my Uncle Reese," she said, her eyes wide with determination. "You tried to make up funny stories to get Reese grounded with the poopy head in the other room. You are poopy heads for trying to hurt Uncle Reese. You're giant poopy heads!"

Reese couldn't help but chuckle at Liz's words, her innocence cutting through the tension like a breath of fresh air. He felt a surge of pride in her, knowing that she was learning to stand up for herself and for him.

As they left the station, Reese felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. He was ready to move forward, leaving the chaos of his family's betrayal behind.

Reese hugged Liz tightly as they returned home, the warmth of their bond providing comfort after the tumultuous day. "Liz," Reese said gently, "I want you to write a list of 20 of your most Favorite hobbies and things to do. I'll do them with you so I know how to make your time here as enjoyable as possible."

Liz nodded eagerly, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she grabbed a pen and paper. She sat down at the kitchen table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she began to write. After a few moments, she handed the list to Reese, her face beaming with anticipation.

The list read:

1. Painting

2. Baking cookies

3. Playing soccer

4. Watching cartoons

5. Going to the zoo

6. Reading stories

7. Building forts

8. Playing board games

9. Visiting the aquarium

10. Going on picnics

11. Riding bikes

12. Planting flowers

13. Drawing with chalk

14. Flying kites

15. Playing with dolls

16. Making crafts

17. Exploring nature trails

18. Playing hide and seek

19. Going to the beach

20. Having tea parties

Reese looked over the list, a smile spreading across his face. "These all sound like so much fun, Liz. I can't wait to do them with you."

Liz grinned, her eyes shining with excitement. "Really? You'll do all of them with me?"

"Absolutely," Reese replied, ruffling her hair affectionately. "We're going to have the best time together."

Reese chuckled at Liz's request. "Alright, Liz. I'll make a list too, but I promise I won't be a poopy head about it." He grabbed a piece of paper and began jotting down 20 things he enjoyed, focusing on a mix of interests that reflected his personality.

After a few moments, he handed the list to Liz, who eagerly took it and began to read:

1. Geopolitics

2. Russian history

3. Video games

4. Guns

5. Swords

6. Tattoos

7. YouTube

8. Writing stories

9. Making dresses

10. Watching action movies

11. Roman history

12. Japanese history

13. Cooking

14. Hiking

15. Playing guitar

16. Reading novels

17. Traveling

18. Photography

19. Gardening

20. Learning new languages

Liz looked up from the list, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Okay, Uncle Reese, let's see…" she began, pointing to each item as she spoke. "Geopolitics? That sounds boring. But Russian history? That could be interesting! Video games? Yes! I love playing games!"

Reese nodded, enjoying her reactions. "I thought you might like that one."

"Guns and swords?" Liz continued, her expression shifting to one of confusion. "A little scary for me, Uncle Reese. But tattoos? I think they're cool!"

"Fair enough," Reese replied with a grin. "Maybe you can help me design one someday."

"Making dresses sounds fun!" Liz exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "And watching action movies? Yes! But what's this about cooking? Can we bake instead?"

"Absolutely, we can bake!" Reese laughed.

"Traveling sounds awesome too, but I'm not sure about gardening," Liz said, scrunching her nose. "That's a lot of dirt!"

Reese chuckled, enjoying the banter. "It can be messy, but it's rewarding too. We can always try it together."

Liz smiled, feeling excited about the prospect of sharing these experiences with her uncle. "I love your list, Uncle Reese! But maybe we can skip the geopolitics and gardening for now?"

"Deal," Reese replied, feeling grateful for the connection they were building.