My Justice My Revenge

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My Justice My Revenge Page 14

by Terry J. Mickow


  The last words we spoke to each other were I love you. We then fell asleep in each other arms. It was the best sleep I had had in months.

  * * *

  When I awoke, Stephanie was already up brewing some hot Teavana tea. She had both of our brewing containers filled and the tealeaves were moving up and down as they brewed. We were told about this tea and the benefits of loose tea rather than tea bags as we sat at a bed and breakfast in Key West Florida. You can always meet great people if you have the opportunity to talk with them. That’s why we choose a bed and breakfast house whenever we can. We enjoy meeting new people.

  The morning was just a continuation of the evening. It was terrific, except I had to go to work. Stephanie wanted me to call in sick, which was a huge temptation but I regretfully said I would have to go to work, but reminded her I would be back home in just a few hours. I finished my tea, gave Stephanie a kiss good-bye and left to get into my car. Stephanie came up to the driver’s window. I lowered it as I heard her say, “This has been too long. We have to move on with our lives. We can’t let this consume us.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. This thing is sucking us down. From now on, let’s be positive. It will be over soon.” I actually believed what I was saying. Maybe, just maybe…

  * * *

  The drive into work was fantastic, as far as rides going to work can be. It was a great day at work also. Not many inmates to get to court. We had the afternoon to talk in-between working and had some laughs. It was going so good someone suggested we go out after work and the plans were made. I called Stephanie who promptly stated, “Oh, I see, you got what you wanted last night so I’m not needed tonight?”

  “What makes you think you are off the hook for tonight? I’m still coming home.” I was laughing as I heard her snicker. I could visualize her eyes looking up at me, just the way they did last night.

  “Just be careful. Don’t drink too much and drive.” She had become serious. She didn’t approve of drinking and driving and I tried to respect her feelings on that matter.

  “Hey,” I asked her, “Have I told you lately that I love you? Guess I should have been

  a song writer.” I hung up the phone and we were all deciding on where we should go.

  The decision was made to go Mexican. There was this great place, The Hacienda only a few miles away. As it turns out a few of us had already been there separately so most knew where it was located. We all arrived in our cars and trucks. It was a very authentic looking Mexican restaurant. The food was also authentic and superb. The building resembled the Alamo in Texas. When we walked through the large wooden doors we could hear the mariachi music coming from within.

  You walked into a small Mexican courtyard where a senorita greeted you, then promptly led you to your dining area.

  The tables and chairs were oversized and had the appearance of logs. On the walls hung many rugs with south of the border pictures stitched in them. A video of Mexican resorts and places of interest ran on a huge screen. There were several paintings on the walls from beautiful waterfalls to peasants on the streets of a small town. It is the kind of place that takes you to another place in another time.

  We sat at our table and our drinks were ordered. The order consisted of a round of margaritas. There were several stories being told and a lot of laugher about the funny things that happened at work this past week.

  We decided not to order dinner but instead just get some appetizers. After awhile Bobby Jaimieson brought up about Tony and the raw deal we were getting in the courts. I told him I just as soon not talk about it now. He felt strongly about it and continued.

  “They know you have got Motter. What’s his attorney trying to do?”

  “Keep him out of jail for as long as he can,” said Allan Topseed.

  Jillian Monroe added, “What the attorney is really looking for is Mr. Green.”

  “Who?” asked Topseed.

  “Mr. Green, you know money. They know Motter has money. How else did he make that huge bond?” answered Monroe. “We can only hope it gets over with soon. Is there any word on that Timmy?”

  “Not really, I mean, they give it new court dates every month but nothing happens. I think I’m going to start going to all the court calls. Not that it will probably help or hurry things up, just something I feel I should do.” I didn’t want to talk about it but in a strange way I felt better when I did.

  “Well, I’m sure we can work something out if that’s what you want to do,” said Monroe. She was always trying to help me through this. She, and all the supervisors, had been very supportive. For this I was eternally grateful.

  “I’ll look up the next date then I’ll let you know so you can find out if I could appear in court,” I said to Monroe.

  Jaimieson then added, “I still don’t know how you handle it. I tell you, I would have killed him by now, put him in the wood chipper. You have much better control than I.”

  I changed the conversation to how good the food was and ordered up more drinks. We continued with a good time for a few hours. Then I finally said, “Well it’s been great but, time for me to go home.”

  “Oh, Stephanie going to complain you’re out too long?” asked Topseed.

  “On the contrary, we have a little business left undone from last night.”

  Monroe said, “I thought you two were getting along fine last night.”

  “That’s what I want to finish. We are getting on fine.”

  Everyone started to laugh and there were a few wolf calls.

  When I arrived home I looked for Stephanie. I didn’t find her anywhere on the first floor so I headed up the stairs. The bedroom door was closed but there was a slight sound of Barry White coming from the other side. A big smile grew across my face. I opened the door to see Stephanie lying on the bed, bed sheet covering her up to her stomach. There were at least ten candles glowing around the room. The smell of lilacs filled my senses. “Shut the door before the kids come here.” Being well train and obedient the door quickly closed. “Now come here, I could use a back rub.” Ah, the night I wanted.

  * * *

  For the next trial date I had asked if I could take some time off and go to court. Everyone had been so good to me and extended every helping hand that they could. Corporal Monroe turns a television monitor on so it would show the courtroom I was going to. I put my jacket on over my uniform shirt and went to the courtroom. I changed jackets so there could be no statements that I was trying to influence the courtroom with the fact I worked there.

  As I exited the escalator and was walking towards the courtroom, I observed Jeffrey Motter standing with his mother, father and his brother. His attorney was standing about twenty feet away speaking with another attorney. Motter and I had eye to eye contact for the first time since this all began. I had wondered how I would handle myself when this day would arrive.

  At first I looked down not wanting to lock eyes, but then I thought, I did nothing wrong. I then brought my eyes back up and onto his. I shot as much hate as I could through my eyes. He watched me as I walked by.

  I entered the courtroom and took a seat in the front row behind the States Attorneys, Brent Clark and Gary Wagner. I sat there so I could hear the proceedings. All the years of loud music and the practicing of shooting a gun, my hearing was on the short side of, “What.” This happened to be the first word in many of my sentences lately.

  Motter’s attorney, Theodore Wilson II, looked at me then darted his eyes away. He was seated at a long table with Jeffrey Motter to his side. Also at the table was co-counsel Arnold Kukec. He would assist Wilson throughout the trial. Patricia Motter, Jeffrey’s mother, who was seated directly behind Jeffrey, stared at me though the whole court proceeding. Jeffrey never looked back, keeping his head looking straightforward with no expression on his face.

  When the case was called Wilson and Clark approached the bench. Attorney Wilson was the first to speak. “Your Honor, first of all I would like to put on the record there are inter
ested parties sitting in the courtroom today. I would like to remind the court of my client’s right to exclude witnesses if necessary.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but before the court this morning is a status check?” Judge Henry Peterson responded.

  “That is correct, Your Honor,” stated States Attorney Brent Clark, “and whoever wants to sit in this courtroom can.”

  I couldn’t believe the first time I came to sit in on what was going on in this case, Motter’s attorney tries to get me thrown out. What an ass. What can’t I see? What is it he is so afraid of? Is it he is just trying to cause me to feel awkward and make it that I will want to leave? If that was his goal he had failed because I was becoming more and more confident of what I was going to do from now on and in myself. From now on I would be at every hearing, every single one.

  “Okay Your Honor, we would like a four week status date. We still don’t have any dates when these alleged acts took place. For my client to obtain his alibi we need some type of time the alleged acts occurred,” Wilson proclaimed.

  I missed the next few words Wilson said. I could not believe I just heard the word alibi. Motter was going to say he didn’t do it. He was somewhere else. What was going on?

  Clark struck back with, “Your Honor, we had the victim try to recall dates. He and his parents tried very hard to get some kind of dates. I would like to remind you these acts took place many years ago. By law we can use a three-year window for the dates. We have gone beyond the scope of what is required by law.”

  “Seems to me if the complainant is so sure any of these acts occurred he should have some recollection of at least what year it was, or maybe a time of the year. Something.” Wilson’s voice was raised ever so slightly, getting a point across but not wanting to go too far.

  “Mr. Clark, I would like for you to go back to the complainant and ascertain if he can come up with a smaller window of occurrence,” said the Judge. I was hanging my head.

  How can they put Tony through this again?

  I looked at Mrs. Motter who was still intently looking at me. I then looked back at Jeffrey. So much for my trying to help Tony, so much for my being sorry for their family. I found I hated this man.

  “Thank you Your Honor. Sir, I would also like to request my client be able to leave the state to check on his properties in Florida. Hurricane season is drawing near and the properties need to be prepared for this possibility of storms.”

  “I object,” Clark said.

  “Over ruled. He will be able to check on his property and belongings. How long would he need?”

  “With travel time and seeing all of them… maybe three weeks.”

  “Granted”

  I again was astonished. He was getting to go on a three-week vacation. He is out doing everything he did before. Where was the justice? Just then I had a flash go through my brain, “Maybe I should have taken care of this myself.” I knew I wouldn’t, but I would not ever use the word couldn’t.

  The Judge ended with, “Case continued for status till November 23rd.”

  As I stood up to leave, States Attorney Clark motioned for me to wait for him. With Theodore Wilson II standing at his table with Motter and Motter’s family still seated I walked out the door. I waited for Clark to exit.

  When he did walk out he was shaking his head. “I don’t know what they expect to get. You heard him though; you’ll have to try again with Tony to get better dates.”

  “I don’t understand either. If the law says he has a three year window, why isn’t that good enough?”

  “The only thing I can think of right now is he’s trying to meet every objection they have. This could work for us if he’s found guilty and tries to appeal.”

  “If he’s found guilty? There is no room in my life for an if to even be considered.”

  As I walked out of the courthouse that day I questioned myself how I could tell Tony and Stephanie we would have to go over everything again. I was to the point I could not defend or give logical reasons for this to continue. We would have to keep doing what we were told, in the end we will get our justice, or I would get my revenge.

  * * *

  It had been two weeks since the last court date and here we sat yet again trying to remember dates of incidents that we were trying to forget had happened all those years ago. Tony who really wanted Jeffrey Motter to be put away was the one to push us on. “We have got to think. Do we have any old pictures with dates on them?”

  “We did, but one night your father ripped them all up,” Stephanie said. I remember the night, could have been last night for how well I remember, but it was probably a year ago. I was having a few drinks, feeling very low when I thought of all the vacations we had taken with Jeffrey Motter. How he had always changed things around so the boys could stay with him. More games, more toys, or he would say to Stephanie and me that we could be alone. At the time it seemed he was doing something extra for Stephanie and

  me and the boys. Now we knew he was manipulating his way so he could abuse Tony. I retrieved some photo albums and started looking at the vacation photographs. Tears started running down my face. How could I have let this happen? I picked out the first picture with Motter on it and tore it in two. By the fifth picture I tore it so Jeffrey’s head was ripped off. By the time I finished, the pieces of paper were the size of a baby’s fingernail. I hated that man.

  Now, I wish I had the pictures, yes we had other pictures of our family on those vacations but we had gotten lazy and didn’t put dates on the back.

  “But wait,” Stephanie said, a slight cheerfulness in her voice, “remember when we were in Fort Myers and the tropical storm hit? We should be able to look that up on the Internet for a date.”

  “Great thinking.” I said. “Maybe we will be able to piece this thing together a little better. If dates are what he wants, dates are what he will get.” But I still wondered why. Why the dates, he couldn’t think that alone could get him off. Why?

  Tony also remembered a caricature of him that Jeffrey had paid for at Disney World. He believed that date was on or around his tenth birthday. Another date, we were making some headway.

  But that was it, nothing more. I decided to call it a night. Tony went out with some of his friends while Stephanie and I went to the Internet to look up tropical storms. After a little searching we had it. Tropical storm Linda struck one hundred miles north of Fort Myers on October 7th 1991. That was it, a date within days of an attack. We had two things to give to the States Attorneys tomorrow. Theodore Wilson II asked for it and we were able to produce it.

  The next morning I called States Attorney Clark as soon as I arrived at work, I told him what we had come up with and how we determined the dates. He sounded extremely pleased and appreciative that we had given it another try. He knew we were not pleased with putting our son through this over and over.

  Later that day I dropped the information off. Brent Clark had wanted me to write it down for him so he could use it as evidence later. He told me I didn’t have to appear at the next hearing, nothing was going to happen. I said I knew that but I would be showing up at every hearing or court appearance from now on.

  He didn’t really seem to understand, but said he did. Maybe I was going overboard, but it was something I had to do. I wanted to report back to Tony what really happened. Not what I was told happened. It’s not that I didn’t trust the States Attorneys more like they candy coated some facts. Sometimes to make it, what they considered, easier on the victims. I wanted the facts and the truth.

  * * *

  November 23rd started as any other workday, waking up from another disturbed sleep, looking into the mirror and seeing this older man with bags so big under his eyes that they could no longer pass through as carry-on luggage at any airport. Going over in my head everything that could possibly go wrong again but still hoping beyond hope that this would be the day Motter would plea guilty and it would all be over.

  After I showered and put on my uniform
I went downstairs for some fruit and tea. My stomach was upset so I settled for a light breakfast. Stephanie was seated across from me, “Are you sure you should go to court today? You look very stressed and tired already.”

  “I have to go. I want everyone involved, on both sides, to see I’m there and I’m listening. I can’t let Tony down again. I will be there throughout.” I knew it was taking a toll on me but I was not going to stop.

  A kiss good-bye and a promise of a phone call after court and I was out the door, in my car, and on the move. The drive to work was usually a pleasant time of my day. Listening to music, typically to set my mood, was always fun. Today the radio personalities were very funny. They had made an “out of the blue” phone call to Toby Keith. His voice sounded as if he either just got up or wasn’t quite all there yet. But being very gracious he continued to talk to them. It was in fact; so interesting and funny, it made me forget about the day ahead of me. Next thing I knew I was pulling into the county parking garage and parking my car just as they were saying good-bye. I was still chuckling, as I was about to turn off my car. When Toby Keith’s song, “Beer For My Horses” came on. I turned it off just as Toby and Willie Nelson sang, “Hang ‘em high in the tree”, which is just what I wanted for Motter.

  I started work without any problems. I had already asked if I could get a few hours off, which was granted. These short court calls lasted only thirty to sixty minutes, sometimes less, but I always asked for more just in case.

  The television monitors in the room where I work over see the entire courthouse. There are cameras in the elevators, in the courtrooms, and in the hallways. Corporal

  Jillian Monroe had one of them set on the hallway outside my courtroom and another set on the inside of the courtroom. She wanted to “keep an eye on me” as she put it. She knew how upset I was. How upset anyone would be. The time came for me to go. I had to put on my personal jacket to hide my uniform as I always had done.

 

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