by Lee Taylor
Chapter 5
Zane blew out an audible sigh as he pulled back the chair at the head of the table and sank onto it. Not able to hide his slight smile, he quickly became more serious. Nodding at the iron-eyed judge who’d assumed his seat at the opposite end of the table, Zane said, “I should warn you, Judge Mathias, this is likely to be a rancorous discussion. As for the rest of you, please understand that while this is a preliminary hearing, it is also legal proceeding. At the end of the hearing, Judge Mathias will determine if there is evidence to proceed to a trial or if the matter ends here.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Wilder. You know damn well that Sheriff Trouble and his smart-assed daughter are guilty of police brutality. At the very least, I insist that they both lose their badges and be jailed.”
Ignoring Rita’s hand on his arm, Senator Powell glared at Zane. Before he could continue his rant, Zane spoke quietly in a voice reeking with intention. “Senator Powell, this will be the only time I say this. If I have to reprimand you again, I will require the bailiff to escort you from the room.”
When the infuriated man started to speak, Rita interrupted. “My apologies, District Attorney Wilder. My client is understandably upset by what happened to his son while Justin was in the custody of the Cochise County sheriff’s department. But please know that my client and I both understand that this is a serious proceeding and we will act accordingly.”
Zane pinned her with a hard glare and said softly, “I hope so, Attorney Davidson. It would be regrettable if we have to remove the senator from the proceeding.” Ignoring Powell’s angry snarl, Zane continued. “As you indicated, Attorney Davidson, on behalf of your client, Justin Powell, you are charging Sheriff Titus Trouble and Deputy Tanya Trouble of police brutality. Which, I’m sure you know, is a very serious charge.” Turning his attention to the solemn judge at the end of the table, he intoned, “On behalf of the people whom I represent, Judge Mathias, I’ve concluded that there isn’t evidence to support this case. However, in deference to the US senator and his son’s attorney, Ms. Davidson, I chose to present the case to you, sir, for a formal hearing.”
Ignoring the growling man beside her, the magistrate nodded and addressed Rita. “Why are you bringing this case, Attorney Davidson?”
Before she could answer, the senator shouted, “Because these two-bit criminals who call themselves cops beat up my son—”
The judge smacked the table with his gavel. “You are out of order, Senator Powell. If I have to tell you again, I will ask the bailiff to escort you from this proceeding.”
Placing a restraining hand on the senator’s arm, Rita said calmly, “Thank you, Your Honor. Again, I ask the court’s understanding. My client’s father is upset—in my view, understandably so. Our case is simple, sir. I have presented the physician’s report to the court documenting that Justin Powell had a wide range of bruises, scrapes, and cuts on his body confirming that he was beaten. I personally saw Justin the night before he was hurt, prior to his being booked in the county jail. While he admitted to driving under the influence, a charge that we agreed to, he did not look as though he had been in a vicious fight. When Justin made bail the following morning and we were allowed to take him home, I questioned him at length. He indicated that his cellmates took advantage of his inebriated state and attacked him. Apparently, they were convinced that he had street drugs in his possession, which Justin swore he did not. While obviously neither the sheriff nor his deputy were in the cell, I can only conclude that because Sheriff Trouble is charged with protecting the inmates in his jail, he and his associates must take responsibility for what happened to Justin while in their custody. Which is why, sir, we are bringing the charges that we are.”
Judge Mathias was curt. “If you have nothing to add, Attorney Davidson, I’d like to hear from the sheriff or his deputy.”
Titus nodded. “Deputy Trouble will speak for the sheriff’s office. She and Lieutenant Sorenson were the officers who arrested Justin Powell.”
Tanya sat up in her chair and responded crisply. “Thank you, Sheriff. We were notified by the state patrol that there was an erratic driver travelling at high speeds on Highway 25. In the ten minutes that we chased him, we clocked Mr. Powell driving ninety to one hundred and ten miles an hour. In that time space alone, the defendant ran three cars off the road, one in which the passengers—a father, mother and two-month-old baby—all required emergency room attention. Mr. Powell stopped only when he ploughed into a telephone pole. At the crash site, we administered a blood alcohol test and confirmed that the defendant had a blood alcohol level three times the legal limit. He was clearly on other drugs, and the lab reports confirmed that he had high doses of Special K—ketamine—and methamphetamine in his system. We arrested him and took him into custody. We booked him in the holding cell for overnight until we could formally charge him in the morning.”
“When did you discover that Mr. Powell had been injured, Deputy Trouble?”
“At two a.m., I received a call from the night officer indicating that there had been an altercation in the holding cell and that several of the prisoners had sustained injuries. Doctor Hanson, our ME, met me at the precinct. In addition to other inmates, Dr. Hanson examined Mr. Powell. Dr. Hanson concluded that while his injuries were likely painful, they were superficial injuries and Powell did not need to be hospitalized. Accordingly, we put him back in a holding cell, but this time in solitary.”
“Do you know how Mr. Powell received his injuries, Deputy?”
“I wasn’t there, sir. But Regis Ortega was.”
Zane glanced at the formidable-looking man sitting with his chair tipped back against the wall and motioned for him to come forward. Glancing at the judge, he said, “Your Honor, this man was present when Mr. Powell was injured. I asked him to tell the court what he saw.”
The ferocious-looking man replete with gang tats and multiple scars on his face and arms sauntered toward the table. The metal studs and chains decorating his leather vest and boots added to his badass vibe. The huge man pulled out a chair and sank onto it. He glanced at Zane, who nodded and said, “If you would, please, tell the court what you observed.”
Senator Powell shouted, “What the fuck! You’re going to take the word of a wetback gang lord, who likely beat up my son, instead of believing my boy? How dare you . . . It’s even more of a crime that you allowed this degenerate to be in the same cell as my son, much less let him testify against him.”
Restraining the irate man the best she could, Rita couldn’t hide her surprise. “I have to agree with Senator Powell. It seems a high bar to ask us to take the word of a fellow detainee rather than Justin’s.”
Zane held up his hand. “I suggest that you listen to Mr. Ortega tell the court what he saw and then decide if you agree.”
Rita raised her hands in disbelief and shook her head. “Given that this is your witness, District Attorney Wilder, I have no choice but to listen to him. I trust I will have the opportunity to question him when he is through.”
“But of course, Attorney Davidson. Even though this is a hearing, not a trial, you will have the opportunity to question the witness if you so choose.”
“You can be sure that I will do exactly that.” Even as she staked her claim, Rita couldn’t keep from looking at Titus. She didn’t believe that he would actually support having a gangbanger lead their case. Surely he knew that she would tear the shifty-eyed guy apart in cross-examination. To her surprise, she realized that Titus was studying her. His hooded gaze was hard, tinged with what she could see was anger. Swallowing her suddenly non-existent spit, she shook off her unease and tried to quiet the warning signals scuttling up her spine. When the banger began to speak, she knew her unease was warranted. It only took her a minute or two to know that she’d been set up. Not only by her friends, the DA, and the deputy sheriff, but by the sheriff himself.
Speaking in a quiet voice that conflicted with his disreputable appearance, the young man said, �
�Thanks, District Attorney Wilder. Yes, I was in the holding cell when Justin Powell attacked one of the other inmates, insisting that he give him some of his stash. Powell was convinced the guy was holding out on him, that he had to have smack on him. Because of his inebriated state, he was much stronger and more vicious than the other inmate. It took me and two other inmates to pull Powell off the other guy. As it was, the other perp was hurt so badly that Doc Hanson hauled him to the hospital in an ambulance, where I understand he is still recovering from the beating Powell put on him.”
Ignoring Senator Powell’s outraged interruptions, Rita focused on Justin. He was flushed a vivid shade of red and refused to meet her questioning scrutiny, confirming that the “witness” was speaking the truth. Forcing herself to meet Titus’s reproving gaze, she could only shake her head. Why their perfidy—Zane’s, Tanya’s, and especially the sheriff’s—hurt her as much as it did she would have to sort out later. For the moment, she could only ask the young man, who was regarding her seriously, “Who . . . who are you?”
He said politely, “Sergeant Regis Ortega, ma’am. Undercover officer for the Cochise County sheriff’s office.” At her obvious surprise, he continued, “Sheriff Trouble stations at least one of his UCs in the holding cell each night to protect the inmates. Just as with Justin, some of the crackheads and speed freaks come in so amped, they couldn’t be more dangerous if they were armed with an extended 9mm Glock and an extra magazine or two. We step in when we need to. Try to make sure no one gets seriously hurt. Unfortunately, with perma-frieds like Justin, it sometimes takes two or three of us to get them under control. It’s a challenging issue, ma’am. People don’t understand how dangerous it is. To the perp and to everyone around them.”
Senator Powell shrieked, “He’s a liar! You know that, Rita. Stop them or I will! No one, especially the fucking sheriff, can get away with this.”
Rita turned to him and pinned him with a hard gaze. “Please, Senator Powell, stop. Like you, I’m shocked that neither the district attorney nor the sheriff’s office informed us that they had an undercover agent in the holding cell. Obviously, if they had, we would not have brought this suit. That they did not is an oversight I will take up with the district attorney.”
Again Powell ranted, “What the hell do you mean, you wouldn’t have brought the suit? Listen here, Rita, in addition to being a goddamned United States senator, I’m your client and you do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”
“Actually, that’s not how it works, Senator Powell, but we will discuss our client-attorney relationship later.”
“Goddammit, there is nothing to discuss! You do what I—”
“That’s enough, Senator . . . ”
Rita was as startled as Powell apparently was when Titus interrupted the frothing senator. Glaring at him, the stern sheriff said, “Your lawyer is correct, Senator. The district attorney didn’t inform Attorney Davidson of our UC’s participation at my request. We hoped we wouldn’t be forced to reveal his presence. Undercover agents risk their lives and are always in serious danger of being exposed. Which is why we strictly guard their identity. District Attorney Wilder and I hoped that we could avoid having to rely on Sergeant Ortega’s testimony. Given your disgusting record of running roughshod over the courts, we decided that was not possible. As a result of the suit you brought against us, we are now forced to revise or eliminate our UC program, which in my view, is dangerous and frankly a damn shame.”
At that moment, Judge Mathias rapped his gavel sharply. “Given Sergeant Ortega’s testimony, I am dismissing this case with prejudice. Which means that the plaintiff is barred from filing a lawsuit on the same issue at a later date. However, I do want to put on the record that I am not pleased that District Attorney Wilder and you, Sheriff Trouble, withheld probative evidence from the plaintiff’s attorney. At a bare minimum, Attorney Davidson should have been informed that you had credible evidence that her client was at fault even if you couldn’t reveal the undercover source. I agree that both you and District Attorney Wilder, sir, were in a challenging position. The plaintiff’s father has significant leverage, but it should not have been an excuse to prevent all the facts from being presented.”
Zane addressed the judge. “I agree, Your Honor, as I know Sheriff Trouble does. That is why we decided that taking this issue on at the hearing level was our best way of informing the plaintiff and his attorney of the facts and hopefully protecting the undercover agent.”
The judge nodded, then glared at the fuming senator. “To that point, let me put on the record that this court will be displeased—to say the least—if we learn that the undercover agent’s identity is revealed by the plaintiff or the plaintiff’s father, further jeopardizing his safety. That will be all. This case is closed.”
Chapter 6
It was only because she was as angry as her client that Rita didn’t respond to Martin’s avalanche of criticism. Rather, she stared straight ahead, furious that she’d agreed to ride with her ranting client. She berated herself that she hadn’t called a cab, as she should have done. She was forced to return to the precinct to sign the authorization papers that would release Justin to the court-ordered rehab center, but she should have refused to return with the senator. She knew that, as always, he would be in full blame-mode, his blame directed at everyone but himself and his pitiful son. As she rode stony-eyed to the station, she admitted that she didn’t know who she was angrier with, Zane, the sheriff, her horrible client, or herself. She only knew it was going to take more than a hot bath or a ten-mile run to get control of her tumultuous emotions.
When they pulled into the station, Rita quickly got out and marched to the entrance, ignoring the senator’s demand that she wait for him. At his insistent command that she “wait up,” she whirled on him and said as calmly as she could, “Listen, Senator, the only reason that I am standing here is because without my signature accepting the court’s order, your son would have to stay in jail rather than go to the rehab center. Where I hope to God they will keep him for a long time. So if it isn’t too much to ask, will you have the curtesy to stop yelling at me and let me get your son closer to the help he desperately needs.”
Not waiting for him to answer, Rita stormed into the building and up to the front desk. She ordered the surprised desk sergeant to give them the documents they needed to sign. Ignoring the clerk’s raised brow at her peremptory order, she snatched the papers from him. She quickly signed them and then, not trusting herself to speak, handed them to Senator Powell to sign. As she strode to the door, preparing to hail a cab, the senator called after her. She put up her hands and shook her head, unwilling to engage in what she knew would be a fruitless discussion.
To her surprise, Senator Powell moved as quickly as she did. In seconds, he reached for her and jerked her next to him. “Listen, Rita, I know you’re angry that the fucking sheriff beat us. But I’m telling you we aren’t done. I will have his badge and his ass if it’s the last thing I do. Now, please settle down. Henry will drive us back to my mountain retreat, and we will plan our next steps. A couple of hours in my high-end spa will perk up your spirit. After all, that’s why I pay your outrageous fees. I need my classy little pit bull in fighting form.” When Rita shoved off his demeaning grip and glared at him, he added threateningly, “But I’m losing my patience. You need to get hold of your emotions, Rita. I’m depending on you.”
Rita managed to keep her voice somewhat controlled. “Thank you, Senator, but I won’t be going to your house. I’m calling a cab and returning to my hotel, where I intend to stay until I get a flight home.”
“Goddammit, Rita. Stop acting like an emotional female. So we lost one battle. Do you honestly think that fucking sheriff or unscrupulous DA, or that impotent judge, can stand in my way? You are my lawyer. Together, we are going to take down the whole damn bunch of them.”
Rita whirled on him and forced herself to tamp down her fury. “To be very clear, Martin, I am no longer your attorney. I’m
firing you as a client. Now, if you will please excuse me, I need to get back to my hotel.”
Not surprisingly, the autocrat rose up to his full height. That, given her high heels, put them at eye level. “No, dammit, you’re not. No one fires me from anything. Especially not some haughty bitch.” As if acknowledging her simmering anger, he appealed to her. “Dammit, Rita, I’ll admit it. I need you—at my side and at my retreat. Besides, I forbid you to stay in that roach motel. I told you no one who works for me can be seen in such a disgusting place. It reflects poorly on me.”
A cool voice spoke from behind them. “The lady said that she no longer works for you. Given that, Powell, I recommend that you and your son get into your swanky limousine and get the hell out of here.”
Rita turned in disbelief to see a very tall, very angry-looking man striding toward them.
Senator Powell stepped back in surprise, then seemed to remember who he was. Puffing out his chest, he glared at the glowering man. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Sheriff? You think you can order me to leave? And not take my lawyer with me? So help me God, Trouble, I’m gonna bury you so deep in legal red tape, you’ll be trying to fight your way out of it for years to come—”
The red-faced politician stopped in mid-sentence and stepped back in the face of the clearly angry man advancing on him. Titus moved up next to the quavering man, not allowing him to retreat. His voice was low, rife with danger. “Who do I think I am? I’m the sheriff of Cochise County, the highest-ranking law enforcement officer in the county. And more important, I’m the guy who, for the last time, is telling you to get in your fucking car and get the hell out of here.”