Shadow Games

by Doug Welch

  Chapter 21

  Jailbreak

  Although the mattress on the narrow bed was hard and lumpy, at least I’d had a night's sleep in which to recover.

  I hadn't been given an opportunity to shower, and I smelled like it. Breakfast was okay but plain. I couldn't eat much of it anyway.

  Pacing back and forth in the cell, my stomach felt like a churning mass of acid and I finally puked my breakfast in the toilet.

  My headache came back and my thoughts brought no comfort, they circled back to Elizabeth and Caesar, and what they were experiencing.

  I finally suppressed them, turned off my mind and waited in misery for my lawyer.

  The world sucked and I felt helpless, like the universe had conspired to defeat me and crush the people I loved.

  I squandered the morning drowned in misery.

  None of the deputies would talk to me as they made their rounds, so I didn't have a clue as to what was happening. I wondered if Alex was getting the same treatment.

  Hours dragged by. I had no way of knowing how many since they’d taken my watch. I thought I would go mad from the anxiety.

  Finally, during what I judged to be the late afternoon, a deputy came to my cell and handcuffed me.

  He led me to a conference room and opened the door, inside the room stood Alex and Kirk Brown. The deputy removed the handcuffs and closed the door leaving us all three together.

  We sat at a table in the middle of the room.

  “You look like shit, Paris,” Brown said.

  “Yeah. I've heard a lot of that lately.”

  Brown studied me. “What happened to you two? The prosecutor had a shopping list of more felonies and misdemeanors than I’ve ever seen at one time. Organized crime couldn't get in this much trouble, at least not in the time you've had.”

  “What are they accusing us of, exactly?” I said.

  He began to tick off the items. “Criminal abduction to commit immoral acts, illegal drug use, you failed the drug test, money laundering, they found nearly half a million dollars in bank accounts in the house, all with amounts under ten thousand, and a list of traffic violations that's a page long. About the only thing they didn't accuse you of was cruelty to animals.”

  I looked at Alex. She just shook her head, and started laughing. “Oh God. I love it. This is just too priceless.”

  Kirk looked puzzled. “What's so funny? They’re serious. You two could be put in prison for a long time.”

  “What's Alex being accused of?” I said.

  “Alexandra's accused of conspiracy to commit immoral acts, and the traffic violations.”

  I leaned forward and stared him down. “I spent some time in the Army on Court Marshal boards, Kirk. I know a little about the law. Consenting acts between adults, particularity those about to be married, are not considered immoral acts. We're rich Kirk. We can have as many bank accounts in any denomination we want so long as it's our own money. Traffic violations that occur when a person is fleeing from mortal peril are not illegal, and the Rowans fled with us voluntarily to escape the same mortal peril. We sheltered them in our house as guests.” I waved my hand in dismissal. “They can testify to all of this.”

  Brown’s look grew uncertain. “There's a problem there. I can't find them. The police say that they are in protective custody, but they won't tell me where they are.”

  “What? Don't I have the right to face my accusers?” I asked.

  Brown spread his hands. “The charges weren’t brought by the Rowans. You’re being accused by the State. The Rowans are listed as material witnesses.”

  My headache began to return. “All right. Just get us out on bail.”

  He shook his head. “I'm sorry, I can't. The prosecutor convinced the judge that you two were a threat to the Rowans. He said that you were psychotic, that you believed that invisible people were out to get you and you were a danger to society. The judge ruled that you were to be held without bail.”

  Alex moaned. “Oh shit, we're sunk.”

  “Don't worry. There's an upside,” Kirk said. “They have to give you a psychiatric evaluation. If you pass it, I can argue for bail. If you flunk it, I can argue diminished capacity.” He waited with a smile on his face.

  “You will plead us not guilty,” I said. “Because we're not...Guilty.”

  His smile faded. “If you're sure...”

  “I'm sure. Just find some legal angle to arrange bail. We'll take it from there. How long will it take for this mental evaluation?”

  “About a week, give or take a few days.”

  “Speed it up, no matter the cost, we'll pay it. Just arrange bail.”

  He rose, ready to leave and I stopped him. “One other thing. They've got me in what amounts to solitary confinement. Put a halt to it, and find me something to occupy my time, even if it's court documents. I'm going stir crazy. Do the same for Alex, and get us some clean clothes.”

  I hugged her. “Hang in there, Sis. We'll get out of this somehow.”

  “You know? I almost believe you,” she said.

  After the first day, I was treated a little more humanely. I was able to shower, and Kirk brought a change of clothing. I should have asked him for something besides court documents. At least there was a newspaper included.

  Unfortunately, it did not lift my spirits, because we were all splashed across the front page. It was the most excitement that Jamestown had in years. When I get out of this, I’m going to sue Russell County into bankruptcy.

  About noontime, Bob Patterson brought lunch. “Thanks Bob. Can you tell me what's happening out there?”

  He looked around the corridor. “Sorry 'bout yesterday, Paris. The Chief wouldn't let us talk to you. Alexandra says you're innocent. I'm inclined to believe her.”

  “Well, she's right. It seems we have some very powerful enemies. Do you know where the Rowans are?”

  Bob shook his head. “Alexandra asked me that. We're not allowed to say. But the truth is that no one knows where they are. The Chief won't say. Your lawyer has been making his life miserable with court documents. He just clams up.”

  I pleaded with him. “Bob, if you find out, please guard them. Don't let anyone near them. The same people who have put us here want them too. Their lives are in danger.”

  He looked frightened. “It could mean my job, Paris. The Chief is acting real strange. I've never seen him like this before.”

  I felt my shoulders slump. “Do what you can, Bob, I'll be eternally grateful.”

  He left, leaving me to brood in my cell.

  The next day the morning paper had lurid details of the love-nest at the Fox farm. I vowed to extend my suit to the State of Kentucky.

  That evening I was led from my cell to the conference room. Again, they removed the handcuffs. Alex and Kirk Brown were waiting.

  I waited for Brown to speak, but I had a feeling that I knew what he was about to say.

  “I had a strange phone call today. It was from someone who assured me if you cooperated, I could arrange bail. I don't know if I believe him, but this was delivered by messenger. He said to give it to you. He'll be waiting for a reply. I'm supposed to call a number, and simply say, yes or no.”

  He removed something from his briefcase and laid it on the table. It was both of our medallions.

  Although I was anticipating some attempt to negotiate, this was last on my list.

  Crushed, all the fight I’d summoned left me. I thought I’d felt despair before, but this went to new depths. I looked at Alex.

  She wore an anguished look that tore me up inside.

  I stared at the floor. “We'll do anything they want. Tell them yes. Put the lockets back in your case. We'll get them tomorrow.”

  The next day arrived and we were escorted to the front of the County lock-up. Kirk Brown waited.

  We signed some paperwork, recovered our possessions and donned our medallions.

  By noon, we were out of jail, riding in Kirk's car, and headed out of
Jamestown.

  “Where are we going?” Alex asked.

  “You can't go back to the farm. The house is a police crime scene. It's taped off. They said to drop you off along the road at a specific spot, and they’d arrange accommodations.”

  We drove for a while toward the Tennessee border.

  Soon, we pulled off the main road to a side road. Kirk stopped the car.

  We got out and waited. After a while, a large black Mercedes came down the road. It pulled in front of Kirk's car. Three large men emerged, carrying handcuffs.

  “Brown, you son-of-a-bitch. You sold us out.” I yelled.

  The men began to walk toward us.

  Brown wouldn’t look at me. “I'm sorry, Paris. They threatened my family.”