This story is fiction.
The characters are adults in adult situations.
Warnings: The only person you can ever hope to truly know is yourself. Trust no one; use condoms.
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Author's Note: I have posted this chapter as soon as I could. I have received some help with beta reading and editIng. If you notice, thanks to Jay T. I feel there is much more to this story, if you agree email me.
Jim
Sojourn1950@yahoo.com
Chapter fifteen
All too soon it was time to leave for town. Raymond had called to let them know Joe, the attorneys and himself would meet them in the conference room at the motel where Ilya's and Raymond's men were staying.
Upon arrival, Paul was upset to see a Sheriff's patrol car parked alongside Raymond's Tesla. They still had more than half an hour before they had to meet. Why the hell was he here now. Paul was in no hurry to confront the Sheriff, especially since both he and Jeff had left their sidearms at home.
Sam and Dave were already outside perusing the parking lot before Paul had unfastened his seatbelt. He wasn't even sure if Dave was still armed. He looked as ready for trouble as Sam did.
Jeff knew exactly how his partner felt. Even though he had complete trust in his Uncles, he was still on edge about the questioning and the confrontation. He tried to reassure his partner, but it was hard when he was convinced the Sheriff was totally unscrupulous.The relief for all of them was palpable when they learned the patrol car had been driven by Deputy Lovan.
Paul was surprised at the number of people in suits and business casual that had gathered in the conference room. Most refrained from approaching. A few, mostly the ones in expensive suits, came over to shake Jeff's hand and welcome him home. Jeff enthusiastically, in turn, introduced Paul as his life partner.
Deputy Lovan left just after Jeff and his group arrived. He managed a wave, followed by two thumbs up, from across the room as he walked out.
Raymond nodded to Ilya and suddenly the conference room was cleared except for Jeff, Paul, Joe, Raymond, Ilya, Sam, Dave, Tink sans uzi, and the attorneys. He introduced them to Jubal Harshaw and Jillian Dorcas. Jeff knew both by reputation and was pleased they would be representing Paul and Dave. Now he had a legitimate reason to be encouraged.
It had been previously decided that if, in the unlikely event, they were questioned at the same time, Jeff and Harshaw would go with Paul while Raymond and Jillian Dorcas went with Dave. The two groups gathered separately at opposite ends of the conference room.
After they were seated Jubal Harshaw took over, "I need to hear your account of yesterday's events. Just like now, I'll be sitting on your left side. Watch me carefully. I have pretty good reflexes for a semiretired senior citizen. If I grab your arm or if you
think I am about to grab you, simply, as you young folk often opin, `shut the fuck up'.
"Let me help you clarify a point or statement that might have been misconstrued by others. By others I mean those appointed and anointed to enforce a medieval system slanted to protect the status quo or ruling class. Lucky for you, you happen to be a classmate in good standing, as witnessed by my presence. I don't come cheap.
"Now by misconstrued, I mean taken as an admission of guilt regarding something as simple as breach of the peace, up to and including premeditated murder. If left to their professional integrity, your innocent utterance will be twisted into an already hoped for and half expected confession of guilt. Their juvenile attempts to ingratiate themselves to a nonexistent Neolithic deity means that, to them, everyone is guilty of something. You may be innocent in this particular situation, but in the course of your life you have sinned enough to deserve any punishment rendered. It's how they sleep at night."
Jubal Harshaw spent the next half hour listening to Paul's version of events. He only interrupted a few times and carefully explained his reasoning each time. The majority of interruptions came because Paul was saying too much. By the time he was through, Paul felt like his story was stripped of any conversational value and "just the facts" remained.
Paul was grateful when Raymond's group joined them at Jeff's end of the conference room. He directed everyone to have a seat. "Jeff, Paul, Sam and Dave, last night Deputy Harris gave us a lot more information after y'all left. We couldn't really verify most of it until this morning. Now, it's important that we not show our hand too soon. We won't go into details here and now, but there will be some surprises at this questioning. I want to assure the four of you, we have everything under control.
"But a lot of this depends on your reactions. I am concerned that your expressions and body language may give something away if you know too much. You all have to trust me and my judgement. Paul, these guys know me and know I have their backs." At this Jeff, Sam and Dave nodded and smiled reassuringly. " I know it's a lot to ask of you; to have faith that we can pull this off.
"There is every reason to believe that we could get away without even showing up for the questioning until after the Sheriff is arrested. After what we learned last night, the bastard deserves to be put away for a long time. He's not a fool. If he suspects we're onto him, he could play this straight and walk away with a slap on the wrist. I ran into Julie from the diner this morning in the lobby. She told me to go with my gut and that you would agree to follow my lead. She has never failed to give me sound advice. So, how about it, Paul. Can you trust me?"
Paul could feel the pressure, it seemed everyone was looking at him with hopeful expectation. Except Tink, who was studiously watching something on his laptop.
Paul swallowed, stared into Jeff's eyes, then began, "I have been through a lot this week. I met you, Jeff, the love of my life. My house was burned down. I was kidnapped and almost murdered. I,, uh,, I killed a man who tried to kill me and my daughter. And I became a member of a very loving and apparently very rich and powerful family. "So," meeting Raymond's questioning gaze, "do I trust you? What do you want me to do, Uncle Raymond?"
Raymond moved around the table and pulled Paul into his arms, "I know I said this before, but welcome to the family, Nephew."
Jubal Harshaw interjected, "It is always good to witness positive familial dynamics, but we need to get to Oz if our little troupe of thespians is going to expose the man behind the curtain."
Paul wasn't sure why he felt more secure, but he did. He had a family! For the first time in a long time it wasn't just him and Maria standing alone against "come what may." He had family at his back. Not just any family, he had the Adams Family, fingersnap, fingersnap. (Jeff had told him about Danny's annoying habit. Paul had laughed his ass off.)
Now, it looked like a small army had assembled in the Sheriff's Office parking lot. Ilya took charge of his men. Immediately assigning two to wait in the lobby with him and Tink. The rest were to maintain ready posture at a coffee shop across the street, rotating so the vehicles were manned with a driver at all times. Paul watched as Dave surrendered two pistols and two nasty looking boot knives to Sam, for safe keeping.
Joe offered, "Good luck, son. I'll be waiting right here for you." Once Jubal identified their group, the `invited guests' passed through a metal detector and were ushered down a hallway. They passed Deputy Lovan in the hallway, leading two sharply dressed men with white cowboy hats into a conference room. He barely nodded in passing. That dashed Paul's hope that he would have at least one friendly face at his inquisition.
He relaxed a little when he realized the questioning would indeed take place in two separate rooms. Due to the holidays, the already short staffed D. A.'s office had a scheduling conflict. The Sheriff, he guiltily hoped, would chose to conduct Dave's session since he had pissed him off so much.
He was surprised when they were let into a spacious room with a table and eight chairs. There was even a coffee maker in the corner with a full, fresh pot. Too bad. Between the house and the motel, his kidneys were already floating. Harshaw had them take seats nearest the door. That put them with their backs against the door. It also had the Sheriff's men facing the obvious two way mirror. Harshaw made it clear that once they entered the Sheriff's building, all conversation would cease. If anyone had a question they were to write it down and hand it to him. Biological needs could be addressed by raising a hand. Jubal Harshaw was not an easy man to like. Respect as a professional? Yes, like? No!
As they took their seats, he broke his own rule about talking, "They typically will lull you into a false sense of security before they ask any really difficult questions. If you get nervous and need to calm down, just stop talking and take a few deep breaths. For the sake of some unnamed god, don't babble on. Simply tell your story, like you did at the motel, and answer their questions simply.
"We are not here to make friends. If you want friends; buy Girl Scout cookies, join a cult based upon Martian philosophy, do anything but fall for their sophomoric attempts to friendly a confession out of you.
"I infer, from our conversation, your appearance and your profession that you are an honest and intelligent young man. I am seldom wrong in my estimations, unless purposely misled. Don't force me to devalue my own masterful ability to superficially judge people by behaving like a dunderhead during this skirmish."
Paul knew that this speech was more for the benefit of those watching behind the two way mirror. Still, he spent his time in Jubal Harshaw's company vacillating between utter awe and absolute disdain.
They had been forbidden to bring any recording devices with them. Paul noticed Jubal playing with a handsome fountain pen. Jubal noted his interest and shrugged, "Your man Tink should reconsider his profession he would make me a great private investigator. He'd have to lose that phony accent, but he would do well." Even as he said this he fingered a nondescript lapel pin.
The hair on the back of Paul's neck bristled as the door opened behind him. He remained calm in spite of a very strong desire to stand and prepare to fight. Once the silent group of men walked around the table, his worst fears were realized. Standing behind the seat directly in front of him was the "bad Sheriff". To his right was the big, handsome, courteous and professional State Trooper. On his left was a young man, in a badly fitted suit, that looked like he was still attending law school. This, they would learn was the Assistant District Attorney (ADA). On the ADA's left was none other than his honor the Mayor.
The Sheriff, still standing, introduced his side of the table. He forestalled any objections by stating the Mayor was acting in his official capacity as a duly appointed Auxiliary Deputy Sheriff.
Jubal stood and faced the Sheriff and introduced himself and then Jeff as his co-counsel.
Paul silently cursed himself for looking for it. Sure enough it snaked noticeably down the man's left leg. Paul jumped when Jeff nudged him in the ribs, caught his eye and smiled broadly, letting Paul know he had been caught checking out the "Daddy" Sheriff. What was worse, when he looked up he could see the Sheriff had caught him also. Only the man didn't smile, it was more like a silent snarl. In spite of the guilty blush, Paul was happy to realize that truly nothing about this man sparked anything but curiosity and loathing.
The Deputy D. A. had been well briefed or had thoroughly read Paul's statement. He might be young, but he came across as a professional.
Copies of Paul's statement of events were provided and Paul scanned his copy and agreed that it accurately reflected the events of the previous morning. The ADA asked him to again go over the events leading up to the shooting.
He started with the fire. Then told how they had disagreed with the Fire Marshal's assessment, in light of the strange gas can, discovery of "red" diesel as the accelerant matching the contents of said can. He went on to explain that the gas can had been dusted for prints and contents sampled while, he believed, it was still in Deputy Lovan's custody. At this point the Sheriff clearly mumbled, "That bastard!"
The ADA asked, "Sheriff Johnson, you had something you wanted to ask?"
"What? No. Just thinking about the likelihood of a broken chain of custody."
Jubal offered, "I should think not being able to make a charge of arson prosecutable against a dead man would be in itself a moot point... Sheriff."
The Sheriff offered Jubal his signature silent snarl. Paul's interpretation of that look was `eat shit and die motherfucker'. He, for once, wanted to cheer his lawyer's snooty, superior attitude.
At the ADA's urging Paul went on to point out the Fire Marshall's insistence that the cause of the fire was faulty wiring. Ignoring the gas can and the strange vehicle seen leaving as the fire was discovered.
Paul told about the note found on his windshield and about his daughter repeating her conversation with Morgan. How they had found fingerprints at his house matching those on the can and those apparently indicating he was wanted for burglary in Idaho. They learned the local police put out an APB on Morgan and his truck.
When he got to the part where Morgan made his presence known, he got shaky and asked for some water. The Sheriff nodded at the two way mirror. Shortly a Deputy appeared and went around the table to hand the water bottle to the Sheriff and whispered something in his ear. Paul could tell whatever it was wasn't good for him because it made the Sheriff smile broadly. He courteously passed the bottle to Paul. Suddenly Paul regretted his thirst.
Paul continued his recollection yesterday's events. When he told how he accused Morgan of being high on drugs, the Sheriff interjected, "Was that the first time you ever saw Joshua Morgan high on drugs?"
Paul was dumbfounded by the question. Jubal grabbed his arm and addressed the ADA, "My client has already stated that he had only the slightest casual contact with Joshua Morgan prior to the kidnapping. The drug use was speculation on my client's part confirmed as fact by Joshua Morgan himself. My client had no prior knowledge of Morgan's history with drug abuse."
With a sneer of disdain, "Counselor, apparently you don't know your client very well. Last night I received an anonymous tip to search his vehicle. I ordered a more thorough search of said vehicle. A vehicle which has been in our impound lot since shortly after the shooting. The Deputy that brought in the water told me they have discovered eight ounces of a substance testing positive for cocaine with an estimated street of over $10,000.
"We will be taking a closer look at Morgan's residence. I'm sure the fire and the shooting both stem from a disagreement on how to split the proceeds from the sale of drugs."
Turning to Paul with a predatory sneer, "Well boy, Isn't it true that you and Joshua Morgan have been distributing narcotics in this area since shortly after his going to work at the Adams ranch? You better speak up quick. Your new partner who took part in the killing is probably singing like a canary hoping to avoid the death penalty."
Paul's initial reaction was to simply stare at the Sheriff in disbelief. It only took him seconds to assimilate the accusations. His jaw steeled in determination. "Do you think anyone will believe your trumped up bullshit. The phony middle of the night `anonymous tip!' You probably were stupid enough to plant those drugs yourself from your own evidence locker.
"You, sick self hating homophobic homosexual! Did you really think butt fucking one of your Deputies had bought you his loyalty? Why do you think he didn't call you last night after he stopped us on that dark lonely back road. Were you going to come out and shoot us with untraceable weapons. You probably still have them in the trunk of your patrol car. Did you intend to make it look like a drug deal gone bad.
"Next time try using some lube before you stick that horse cock up his ass. From the video of you fucking him in your own office, it looks like you rammed it home bareback without a thought for his discomfort. His screams of agony seemed to validate the whole no lube thing. With all that begging and screaming y'all must have filmed that after hours... hmmm... Did the Mayor here, hold the camera?" The Mayor gasped and began to turn green.
"Were you not even told Deputy Harris called out sick today? Or were you too busy planting evidence. I bet you thought my conviction could set you up for higher political office. What was it? State Senator or maybe even Governor one day?
"One word from me and those videos will flood the internet. You'll be as electable as the guy in New York, who kept sending his dick pics to all those women. You might get work in gay pornos, but you are done in law enforcement. You might as well hand over your badge to that pompous, bilious, homophobe," Paul nodded, indicating the Mayor.
At some point the Sheriff realized all his scheming had fallen through. Filled with rage he jerked to his feet, knocking over the chair behind him. Before he could draw his gun, two men burst through the door shouting, "Texas Rangers, dro..." It was at this point that two shots rang out. Paul later swore there was only one, but that was because the first one temporarily deafened him. The Sheriff dropped his drawn, but unfired weapon, then collapsed in a heap beneath the table. Paul found himself wrapped up in Jeff's arms, shielded by his body.
The ADA and the Mayor had like everyone else in the room, except Bill Wilson the State Trooper, remained seated. The Mayor suddenly jumped up and ran for the door, with his hands to his mouth holding back breakfast. No one blocked his way. The ADA calmly offered, "Guess he's never been in a war time situation."
The State Trooper reholstering his just fired handgun, agreed, "I reckon not."
Using the video from behind the two way mirror and the coroner's report, it was determined the Sheriff died as a result of two gunshot wounds to the chest, both of which punctured his heart. One fired from the gun of a Texas Ranger. The second fired, almost simultaneously, by a Texas State Trooper. Either shot would have been instantaneously fatal. Both shooters were commended for their lifesaving endeavors.
Paul felt vindicated when it was discovered, through log books and videos, the planted drugs were taken from the evidence locker and planted that morning by the Sheriff himself. He shivered like someone had walked across his grave when they found a cache of untraceable automatic weapons in the trunk of the dead Sheriff's patrol car.
In an emergency meeting the County Judge and County Commissioners voted to appoint Deputy Daniel Lovan as acting County Sheriff. His first official act was to request the Texas Rangers investigate Sheriff Johnson's professional and personal life and ties to uncover any possible past wrongdoing that might adversely affect the Office of the Sheriff.
The DA's office issued a statement that no criminal charges would be filed in the case of Joshua Morgan's death. Quietly the DA cancelled holiday vacations to conduct their own investigation. He expected every case his office prosecuted under the dead Sheriff's auspices to be called into question.
It seemed like a lifetime, but only hours later they were headed home. There would be more statements to be made, but thankfully not until after Christmas. The Tahoe was once again eerily quiet. From out of nowhere Paul backhanded Jeff's shoulder and shouted, "What the fuck were you thinking! You could have been killed too! At that range the bullet would probably gone through both of us. Who would be left to take care of Maria? You dumbshit!"
Author's Note:
Let me know what you think with a short or long email.
Sojourn1950@yahoo.com