Painless (The Story of Samantha Smith #3)

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Painless (The Story of Samantha Smith #3) Page 16

by Devon Hartford


  Brianna set her laptop on the corner of the judge’s bench so that the judge could view the video. Schlosser and his team had to crane over to see the screen when Brianna played the video.

  At first, Judge Moody was bored, but as the video unrolled, she became entranced and literally leaned forward on the edge of her seat. When the video finished, she said, “Can I see that again?”

  “Certainly, your honor,” Russell said. “Brianna, please play it again.”

  Brianna nodded and reset the video.

  After the second viewing, Schlosser growled, “This is preposterous, your honor. There’s no way you can allow this into evidence. I need time to verify that the woman in this video is the one standing over there.”

  “It looks like the same young woman to me,” Judge Moody said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

  “That may very well be,” Schlosser huffed, “but if it turns out she is the woman in the video, I still need time to depose her properly. I have no idea what her testimony might be.”

  “Neither do I,” Russell said.

  Schlosser scoffed at him, then turned to Judge Moody and said, “Your honor, freshman tactics like these aren’t fit for this courtroom,” he said it like Russell was a known liar, “I suggest we leave them in trashy novels and circus tents where they belong.”

  “I’ll decide what flies in my own courtroom, Mr. Schlosser,” the judge said in a parental tone. “Mr. Merriweather, have you had an opportunity to interview this surprise witness of yours?” Judge Moody asked.

  “No, I have not, your honor,” Russell said. “I wasn’t aware of her existence until she stepped into this courtroom today.”

  The judge raised a skeptical eyebrow at Russell.

  He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.

  Schlosser rolled his eyes at both of them.

  “I’ll allow it,” Judge Moody said.

  “But—” Schlosser interjected.

  The judge cut him off. “Mr. Schlosser, you’ve been doing this long enough. Improvise. In light of this video, you’re lucky I don’t dismiss this case on the spot. Would you like me to do that?”

  Schlosser smiled endearingly, “Your honor, I—”

  “Yes or no, counselor,” the judge said.

  Schlosser huffed a hard sigh. “As you wish, your honor.”

  “Excellent. Mr. Merriweather, please see that Mr. Schlosser gets the link to this video. We’ll take a one hour recess, during which time both your teams can review the video in depth and formulate your arguments.” She banged her gavel. “Court is in recess for one hour.”

  ===

  Samantha’s testimony and the amazing video footage turned the trial on its head.

  Russell played the video on the big projection screen while Samantha was on the witness stand. He paused the video intermittently to ask her questions to help clarify details of what was happening.

  I watched with a minimal grin on my face while the moments before I’d gotten off my bike for the first time unwound on the screen. I did my best not to look smug in front of the jury. It was damn hard.

  The video had close ups on Grossman’s face as he shouted at Samantha and tried to pry her car window down. He looked like a raging lunatic. The jury watched in stark, wide-eyed amazement as Grossman frothed at the mouth in the video and turned beet red while he called Samantha a bitch, a slut, a whore, and a pinhead. One of the female jurors giggled in disbelief when Grossman kicked the door of Samantha’s VW.

  The knock out punch, both literally and figuratively, came when Grossman lunged at me in the video. I had been standing calmly in front of him. Everyone in the courtroom could clearly see that Grossman had tried to tackle me before I’d side stepped out of his way and punched him.

  I glanced over and saw Deputy District Attorney George Schlosser running a hand through his hair. He looked defeated, like he’d just been punched.

  When Russell finished asking Samantha questions and sat down, Schlosser was finishing a quiet discussion with his assistants. After a moment, they all nodded at each other.

  Schlosser stood up and said, “Your honor, due to the unforeseen developments regarding the evidence in this case, the state has decided to drop all charges against the defendant.”

  “Are you sure, Mr. Schlosser? I don’t want to come back and do this again,” the judge said.

  “Yes, your honor,” Schlosser said.

  “Let the record show that in the matter of the State of California vs. Christos Manos, case number SD-2013-K-071183A,” the judge intoned, “the State has dropped all charges. She banged her gavel. “Case dismissed. Mr. Manos, you are free to go.”

  For a second, I couldn’t believe my ears.

  The huge smile that spread across Russell’s face proved that I hadn’t been hallucinating. “Congratulations, son,” he said while shaking my hand and squeezing my shoulder vigorously, “let’s agree never to do this again. Feel me?”

  “Agreed,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.

  He pointed at me with a jabbing finger. “I mean it, son. No more bullshit. You’ve got better things to do than waste my time in a courtroom.”

  “You know me too well,” I smiled. “I promise, no more courtroom bullshit.”

  With any luck, I’d be able to live up to my promise.

  ===

  SAMANTHA

  I practically jumped over the witness stand trying to get to Christos when the judge dismissed the case.

  Christos came out from behind the defense table and I leapt into his arms.

  “We did it!” I squealed.

  He spun me around once and set me down. “No, you did it, agápi mou. You won this case single handed.” He glanced at his lawyer and said, “I mean, Russell helped, but you, Samantha, stole the show. Samantha, meet my attorney, Russell Merriweather. He’s an old friend of the family.”

  I shook Russell’s hand, “Nice to meet you.”

  “Christos is right, Ms. Smith,” Russell smiled. “You should send him a bill.”

  I grinned. “Nah, I’ll figure out a way to make him pay for it with services rendered.”

  Christos chuckled. “Gladly.”

  Brianna Johnson walked around the defense table and frowned at Christos. “Christos, how could you forget to mention to Russell and I that your girlfriend was at the crime scene?”

  Christos shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

  “You could’ve saved yourself a whole lot of time and trouble had you told us sooner,” Brianna admonished.

  Christos cracked out a dimpled grin. “I was trying to save Samantha a whole lot of time and trouble.” He rubbed his hand against my shoulder. “She has better things to do.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Russell was right, Christos. You are crazy!” I looked at Brianna for agreement.

  She gave me a sisterly smile and shook her head, “Men! I swear, if it wasn’t for us women, they wouldn’t be able to tie their own shoes!”

  “I know, right?” I smiled.

  “Hey,” Christos quipped, “I’m standing right here.”

  “Good. Then maybe what we’re saying might sink in.” Brianna winked at me. “Despite his thick head, Christos is a good young man. But don’t you let him weasel out of doing a few chores to make up for all the trouble he’s put you through.”

  “I won’t,” I smiled.

  Spiridon walked up a moment later with someone who could only be Christos’ dad. They both exchanged big hugs with Christos.

  “The Manos men,” Russell said proudly, smiling at all three of them, “all up in this here thing.”

  “Samantha,” Christos said, “I want you to meet my dad, Nikolos Manos.”

  I shook Nikolos’ hand. He looked like a slightly older version of Christos. He was as dashing as his son and had the same priceless blue eyes. Seeing the three of them together, it was obvious that Christos was going to be painfully gorgeous at every stage of life. I know people said that George Clooney got better looking as he got olde
r, but Nikolos and Spiridon put poor George to shame.

  “I’ve heard all about you,” Nikolos smiled. “My father tells me that you’re a good young woman, and a talented artist too. Maybe you could teach my son a thing or two about painting. He needs all the help he can get,” he winked.

  Spiridon smiled at me. “Yes. Samoula has moved into the house to be Christos’ private painting tutor. Isn’t that right, koritsáki mou?” He patted me affectionately on the shoulder.

  I was so overwhelmed by all of it, the relief that Christos’ trial was over and the sense of having a family that I absolutely adored, that I couldn’t speak. I smiled and nodded my reply as tears blurred my vision. I did my best to hold them in as the group of us walked out of the courtroom together.

  Now that it was over, I secretly hoped that would be the last time I ever set foot in a courtroom. Between Taylor Lamberth, Damian Wolfram, and Christos, I’d had enough trials to last a lifetime.

  ===

  CHRISTOS

  I inhaled a deep breath of mellow afternoon air as we stood in front of the Hall of Justice in the San Diego sun.

  I was free.

  It still hadn’t quite sunk in. Part of me had been fully prepared to be led out of the courtroom in handcuffs and trucked off to prison after my trial. The foggy claws of that fear still nicked at the back of my neck. Not to worry. They’d fade. I was in the clear. I was with my family and friends, and I was free.

  “Who wants to celebrate?” I smiled. “I was thinking drinks and dinner at the Yard House up the street? I’m buying.”

  “You’ve spent enough money on me already,” Russell smiled. “We can all head over there and I’ll pick up the tab.”

  “Christos Manos?” some random guy walked up and asked abruptly. He had come from the direction of the Hall of Justice and wore an expensive suit and held a briefcase. Was he a court clerk or something?

  I narrowed my eyes. “Who wants to know?”

  “Are you Christos Manos?” the guy asked again.

  Now that I’d had a chance to look at him, he didn’t seem threatening. But he held a thick white business envelope in his hand. “Yeah, I’m him. What do you want?”

  The guy raised his arm and jabbed the envelope at me. “You’ve been served.”

  I shook my head and took the envelope from him. He immediately walked away.

  “Christos, Christos, Christos,” Russell sighed. “What is it this time, young man?”

  I opened the envelope and read the paperwork.

  “What?” Samantha asked, worried.

  I sighed heavily. “Hunter Blakeley is suing me.”

  “What? Why?” Samantha frowned. “Because you tripped him that day at SDU?”

  She was referring to the time I’d walked up on Hunter giving shit to her and Romeo in the Eucalyptus grove on campus. “No. Because I punched him in the face.”

  “When?” Samantha asked.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I want to know,” Russell interrupted. He took the summons from me. “And I want to know who all was involved. No more of these last minute surprises.” He scanned over the paperwork. “This is a civil suit, Christos. He’s suing you for damages. Did you hit him?”

  “Yes,” I sighed. “But it was self defense.”

  “I’m sure it was,” Russell said.

  I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He was probably pissed that I’d walked out of one trial and right into another. I couldn’t blame him.

  “Look,” I said, “A couple weeks ago, Hunter and three of his buddies followed me and Jake after we left Hooters. Hunter took a swing at me, so I back-handed him in the nose. Once.”

  Russell pursed his lips while his brow knotted over his dark eyes. “Sounds familiar. Unfortunately, a civil trial isn’t like a criminal trial, son. If you hit him, you’re probably going to have to pay. The only thing I can do is work to minimize what you’ll owe him.” He flipped through several pages of the document. “Which, in this case, is a whole hell of a lot. This guy’s attorney is asking for a million in medical bills, lost wages, and pain and suffering. We can cut that down quite a bit. But I might not be able to make it all go away. May I ask, did you have a film crew on hand to save your ass in court this time around?”

  “I doubt it,” I said. “It was the middle of the night on an empty street. No one was there except Jake and the three guys with Hunter.”

  “All right,” Russell said. “We’ll figure it out. In the mean time, may I please beg that you not get in any more fights? Is that possible? Or am I asking for water from a stone?”

  Everyone was staring at me expectantly. Samantha, my dad, my grandad, Brianna, and Russell. All had skeptical looks on their faces.

  “Come on, guys,” I pleaded, “the only reason any of this shit started is because I was defending Samantha. The first time at her VW, the second time in the Eucalyptus grove at SDU. Hunter never would’ve cornered me and Jake that night if I hadn’t tripped him that day at SDU. He was still pissed I’d made him look foolish.”

  “While your actions have been honorable,” Russell admonished, “the next time there’s trouble, I encourage you to run the other way. Feel me?” He raised a doubtful eyebrow, but a slight smile betrayed his seriousness.

  “What about Samantha?” I asked. “What if I need to protect her? I’m not going to leave her in trouble.”

  “You’re a strong boy,” Russell smirked. “Pick her up, throw her over your shoulder, and run.”

  I chuckled, “I can handle that.”

  Russell put a big hand on the back of my neck. “All right, you all. I’ve had enough courtroom drama for one day. Let’s get some dinner.”

  We all walked east on Broadway and went inside the Yard House. Since it was early and the dinner rush hadn’t set in, we got a table for six right away.

  While we waited for our waiter to take our drink order, I checked my phone. Tons of texts and voicemails from Samantha. I felt like a jerk. She must’ve been freaking out trying to reach me. I’d make up for it later.

  But the last text to come in was from Brandon Charboneau.

  How are the paintings coming along? I want to book the gallery for your show, but I can’t set a date until you give me one. Let me know.

  Fucking great. I had never told Brandon about the trial. He’d been cracking the whip enough as it was without knowing. I hadn’t wanted him going nuts thinking I had to get everything done before I ended up in prison. It would’ve created way too much tension between us.

  Now that my trial was finally over, the last thing I wanted to do was jump back in the studio to continue painting a bunch of models I had no interest in painting.

  Before, I had been painting them mostly to keep my mind off the Grossman trial. Work was always a good distraction. On the bright side, now that I had this ridiculous Hunter Blakeley civil suit hanging over my head, the work might be just what I needed to keep me motivated. I’d spent a huge amount of my money on Russell. His services weren’t cheap. If I ended up paying out to Hunter, even if I only owed him a fraction of the amount he was asking, I’d be broke.

  I needed to earn some cash quick. Cranking out the canvases for Brandon was a good a way as any to pull in more Benjamins.

  And now that Samantha had moved in, she could watch me hanging out with hot naked chicks seven days a week. She wouldn’t miss a moment of the excitement. I’m sure she’d have the time of her life.

  Fuck. Like everything else, I’d worry about it later. When the waitress arrived, I ordered a double shot of Basil Hayden bourbon.

  Let the drinking begin.

  ===

  SAMANTHA

  “How much did you drink?” I asked Christos as everyone walked out of the Yard House onto Broadway.

  “Lost count,” Christos slurred.

  “You weigh a million pounds,” I grunted. His arm was over my shoulder and he leaned against me. It felt like a building had fallen onto me.

 
“Let me help you, Samantha,” Nikolos said, concerned. He grabbed Christos’ other arm and stood him up easily, taking all of his weight.

  “Where’s my Camaro?” Christos asked.

  “You’re not driving, paidí mou,” Nikolos said, “not like this.”

  Christos wasn’t sloppy drunk, but he was in the neighborhood. This was the first time I’d seen him like this. I couldn’t blame him. He’d had a stressful day.

  “I can drive Christos’ Camaro,” Spiridon said to Nikolos. “You can take my car home.”

  Nikolos nodded. “Which way to your car, Samantha?”

  “This way,” I pointed.

  “Brianna and I are parked this way,” Russell said to everyone. “I should get her back to her car at the office so she can go home.”

  We all said our goodbyes. Spiridon and Nikolos walked Christos and me west on Broadway, toward the parking garage where my VW was. Russell and Brianna went the other way.

  “Tell me about some of your paintings, Samantha,” Nikolos said as the four of us walked along the sidewalk.

  “She’s awesome,” Christos slurred, his eyes a little glassy.

  “She’s quite good,” Spiridon agreed. “She’s a fast learner. Christos has taught her a lot since they met in September. I’ve never seen such rapid improvement.”

  I blushed. “Gosh, Spiridon, thank you.”

  “I’d love to see some of your work,” Nikolos said. “Has Christos been teaching you about the figure?”

  “Yeah. He’s taught me all about gesture drawing and studying anatomy, and how to draw from the model. I never knew you could do that. I always thought you had to make everything up out of your head.”

  Nikolos nodded and smiled, still holding Christos around the waist to help him walk. Christos was drunker than I’d thought.

  “She’s soooo good,” Christos said.

  Yeah, he was toasted.

  Nikolos didn’t seem to mind. I knew from Christos that Nikolos was a heavy drinker, but he hadn’t drunk anything at dinner. He was completely sober.

  “A lot of people think drawing is magic,” Nikolos said. “They think you’re either born knowing how or you’re not. That’s not true. You can learn, especially if you have a good teacher.”

 

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