by Ted Clifton
“You know, your goddamn family will chase me to hell and string me up to a tree if you go with me.”
“You should watch you language Tony Garcia. And listen, my family will be pissed, but at the same time they’ll be overjoyed that I have a boyfriend, maybe a husband? They won’t kill you—just mess you up a little.”
Jeez, she was probably right. They both knew the realities of life in 1963—if you had a daughter or sister who had graduated from high school and wasn’t some egghead going to college, she needed to get married at once. It was like an unwritten law—otherwise she could be sponging off of the family for years.
They might bust him up a bit, her moron brothers, but there was no logic in killing him. They could care less about her virtue—they wanted her gone, married.
Potter’s was the local drive-in, car hops and everything. There were maybe fifty parking spaces, and on most nights at least that many cars circling, waiting to pull in. This created a dynamic that often ended in some kind of male chest-beating to try and clear out the weak so you could park—and it often ended in an ugly mess.
While smugly observing the losers going round and round, Tony noticed his buddy, Bill Mason, circling. He gave him a wave and told him to park down the street at the elementary school and join them. Bill did as directed. Once in a while the cops would ticket, and eventually impound, cars parked at the school, but that was usually after some nasty fight or damaged property brought in citizen complaints. Most times the cops didn’t give a shit. From their point of view, having all of these lowlifes in one place made their job easier.
“Hey, Tony, Vickie. What’s going on?”
“We were thinking about heading off to California.”
“You and Vickie are going to California?”
“Yep, what do you think?”
“I think her big ugly brothers are going to kill you.”
“Yeah, we thought of that, but Vickie thinks they’ll just hurt me. In the long run they’re better off with me alive, as Vickie’s future husband.”
“Why do you tell Bill everything? This is none of his business. Maybe I’ll ask my brothers to kill you as a special favor to me.”
“Jeez, Vickie, we’re just horsing around here—calm down.”
“Vickie’s right—you need to develop some manners before you leave mama.”
“Well, isn’t this just great the two of you ganging up on me. You know this is my piece of shit car and my spot at Potter’s. Maybe you both should go get in Bill’s junk car and start circling again.”
At this, Vickie began to pout and Bill began to laugh.
“Look, Tony, I came to find you to talk to you about something. My uncle’s offered me a job in Dallas and he said he could use another worker in his warehouse—thought you might be interested.”
“What would your job be, Bill?”
“He said I’d start out as an assistant buyer. Not sure what that is, but I’m sure it would be a flunky.”
“So you’d be an office flunky and I would be a warehouse labor guy pushing boxes around, is that right?”
“Tony, if you don’t want the job, okay, but don’t push on me because he’s my uncle not yours.”
Bill was right—not his fault Tony had useless relatives. A dead end job in Dallas or a truth-finding, brother-dodging trip to L.A. with no money and no prospects. All of life’s decisions should be so easy: California here we come.
“Thanks for thinking about me Bill, but me and my babe are heading to the land of opportunity—California.”
Sometimes the best plans don’t work out. Tony took Vickie home and then went to Bill’s to spend the night, since he’d already left the note telling his parents he was gone. His father, in an unusual fit of anger at the arrogance of his only son, called the police and reported the car stolen. Like everything Tony used he didn’t own it—it was in his father’s name. The police were reluctant to pursue the matter because they saw it as a family dispute, but by some strange coincidence one of the officers said he knew where the car was: at Bill’s. It was a small town, after all. Tony’s dad arranged to have the car impounded from Bill’s driveway.
Tony went and talked to his dad and mom. He told them he was sorry for making them worry, but he was now eighteen and it was time for him to take responsibility for himself. They agreed. They also gave him $750 so that he could go to Dallas and take the job with Bill’s uncle. Also, his father agreed he could take the car. Being responsible for yourself was a lot easier with mom and dad’s financial support. Now the hard part: he had to go tell Vickie the California adventure was off.
Tony worked in Dallas and reached a certain level of success. He was quickly promoted out of the warehouse and demonstrated an intelligence and drive that impressed his boss. Over the years Tony had matured, and had even started to think about his future. Vickie had moved into his ratty apartment in Dallas for a few months but quickly decided that Tony wasn’t as much fun as he used to be. His friend Bill had decided to go to college and had gone back to Oklahoma to go to school at Central State.
Tony started going to night school at one of the community colleges in Dallas. He had no problem with the classes but everything was moving too slow for him. He had sent letters to several schools in Texas and Oklahoma asking about scholarships and any other financial programs they had that would allow him to attend school. With his Hispanic last name he soon discovered there were, in fact, many programs that he could apply for. Over the next few months he applied at more than a dozen schools for various financial support programs. He eventually selected an offer from the University of Oklahoma for a minority scholarship for pre-law. He hadn’t given much thought to being a lawyer—he usually thought of all lawyers as assholes—but this was the best financial deal, and it’d make his parents very proud since they were big OU football fans.
Tony soon discovered that he thrived in the academic environment at college. He’d hated high school, but the university atmosphere was like finding the perfect place to be—and it was just down the street all of the time. He completed his pre-law bachelor’s degree in the shortest time possible and became one of the university’s acknowledged leaders while in law school.
As he approached graduation, employment offers poured in—he had too many job offers to even assess each one. While he was as anxious as anyone to make some money, what really interested him was working within the justice system for the government. With some nervousness, he eventually accepted a position as an Assistant District Attorney for Harris County, in Texas, working in Houston.
Tony’s Story, Part 2
Houston, Texas
Tony thrived in the DA’s office like he never had before. He became a star, promoted at such a fast pace that it was rumored that he had something on the DA—but it was all based on performance. He’d had found his place in the universe.
It was while working in the DA’s office that Tony met his future wife. Kate Martin had been arrested for drug possession. While the offence was routine in Houston, this arrest was unusual. At the time of her arrest she’d been in possession of almost $250,000 in cash. Often the police department would notify the DA’s office when an arrest was made that they thought needed their attention because the case was unusual or involved someone other than the lowlifes who were typically brought in.
“Tony, this is Sergeant Nelson. We’ve got a woman down here who was arrested for drug possession. It was only a small amount, and more than likely she’ll only be charged with a misdemeanor. The odd thing is that she’s an upper class person and she had a bunch of cash on her, like a quarter of a million dollars. We have her in a holding cell and she hasn’t called an attorney. She’s just sitting in the cell, not saying anything. I think we need someone other than our normal grab-ass gang to talk to her and find out what’s going on. Can you come down and see her?”
“Ms. Martin, my name’s Tony Garcia. I’m with the DA’s office. You’ve provided the police with your name, but no other informati
on. Are you from Houston?”
There was no answer. Kate Martin was maybe the most beautiful woman Tony had ever seen, at least up close. She might easily have been a movie star, everything about her was as near to perfect as he’d seen. Her hair, her make-up, and her clothes were suited to a supermodel—but here she was, sitting calmly in the county holding cell, apparently not even very upset about it.
“Ms. Martin, you were in possession of a lot of money at the time of your arrest. I believe $250,000. While that in itself isn’t illegal, it raises suspicions about why you’d have that much money and be walking around in an area of town that by most standards would be considered unsafe—even without the money. Can you tell me why you were in that neighborhood?”
“I’d like to have an attorney before I answer any questions.”
Well fuck, why hadn’t she said that hours ago? Tony didn’t understand what was going on—something he didn’t like.
“Of course you can have an attorney present—it’s your right. Why didn’t you ask for one before?”
“I was waiting for you.”
Tony looked at her. She looked at Tony. He was feeling uncomfortable.
“I’ll have the sergeant provide you with a phone to call an attorney.”
Tony left the interrogation room and asked the sergeant to allow Ms. Martin to make a phone call. There was no question that he was terribly attracted to Kate Martin—it was actually making him a little shaky. He found a bench in the lobby and sat for a while. He couldn’t figure out what she meant about waiting for him. Maybe she just meant waiting on someone other than the cops. That was probably it, but somewhere in the remaining teenage part of his brain he fantasized that she’d been waiting on Tony Garcia. He was almost embarrassed.
Tony went back to his office and was working on another matter when Sergeant Nelson called. Her attorney had arrived and she was ready to talk.
“Mr. Garcia, my name is Max Ellison—I’m with Ellison, Mathews and Ford. I represent Ms. Martin, and I’m requesting that you release her at once or charge her with a crime.”
“Mr. Ellison, good to meet you. I’ve had dealings with your firm before. Good to see the named partners still visit clients in jail.”
“Mr. Garcia, Kate Martin is visiting Houston on a personal matter. She’s a well-known resident of Boston and has no criminal record of any kind. The amount of drugs alleged to have been found in her possession is minor and she says that she didn’t illegally purchase those drugs. Regarding the money in her possession, that relates to a personal matter and doesn’t involve any criminal activity and is therefore no concern of the police. Once again, I request that she be released.”
Tony looked at Ellison and then at Kate. She smiled. She could have been mocking him, but it seemed to be a friendly smile—more like: hey, better luck next time. However she intended the smile, Tony liked it just fine.
“She’s released.”
Several days passed, and Tony was very busy with all kinds of bad people causing all kinds of mayhem. He was in his element and quite happy, although he couldn’t quite get Kate Martin off of his mind. He knew he couldn’t contact her, but he had a feeling that they’d connected in some way. Oh hell, probably every man who saw her felt that way. He needed to forget about her—but he couldn’t.
“Mr. Garcia, there’s a Kate Martin on line one for you. She says you’ll know what it’s about. Do you want to take the call?”
“Yes—yes I do, thank you.”
Tony’s heart began to race. He was actually blushing. Jeez, how embarrassing is this—he needed to calm down.
“Hello, Ms. Martin. What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Garcia, I’d like to meet with you today, is that possible?”
“Sure come on in, be happy to meet with you.”
“Do you think we could meet for a drink or something rather than at your office?”
Okay, now new fantasies started to kick in. There also seemed to be an alarm bell going off in Tony’s head. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—ever, not just in jail—wanted to meet with him over drinks. He knew he should immediately tell her that it wasn’t appropriate, but that he’d be pleased to meet with her in his office—with a chaperone.
“Drinks, sure that would be perfect. When and where?” Oh good—he was now on the path to disbarment.
Kate mentioned a downtown bar and restaurant not far from Tony’s office and suggested five thirty. Tony agreed and hung up. Now what? Should he call his boss and fill him in? But why? It was only for drinks and she hadn’t been charged with anything. He could certainly have a meeting with a woman he met in the course of his work without permission from his boss. He knew he was rationalizing—but he still wasn’t going to tell anyone.
The afternoon dragged on like the last hour of high school, except longer. Tony was about ready to leave for the day when he got a call from the DA. He knew he must have been caught, and he was on the verge of being arrested by the fantasy police.
“Tony, just wanted to remind you about our appointment in the morning to discuss the Brewster case. I’ve asked Mr. Brewster’s attorney to sit in on our meeting. I think we can reach a harmonious conclusion on this matter if we will give just a bit. Wanted to give you that heads-up before you walked in here tomorrow. See ya then.”
Tony let his breath out. What was happening to him?
He arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early. He asked the hostess if anyone was waiting—she said no. He went to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. Maybe alcohol would help him calm down. He’d taken a few sips and was actually feeling a little better when Kate slid in beside him.
“I’m not a big drinker, but I do love bars.”
If anyone had asked he would have said that he could not have imagined Kate looking any better than she had when he’d first met her—but he’d have been wrong. She was even more stunning, almost jaw-droppingly gorgeous. She ordered a white wine from the very attentive bartender.
“Mr. Garcia, I’m sure you are wondering why I wanted to see you.”
“Please, call me Tony. Yes, I was curious—it’s a bit unusual to have someone you’ve met in county lockup give you a call.”
“They shouldn’t have arrested me. I think they saw me and the way I was dressed, and in that neighborhood they decided I must be doing something wrong. Kind of reverse discrimination against high class white women being in a black neighborhood.” This was said with a mischievous grin.
“Well, as I’m sure you can imagine it’s not appropriate for me to discuss anything to do with your arrest.”
“Of course, Tony. The reason I asked to see you is that I need help. I just mentioned the arrest to explain that there’s no crime they can charge me with, because I didn’t commit any crime. The officers who arrested me really scared me, but when you walked in I knew you were someone I could talk to. If I misread something just tell me—but I thought there was a connection.”
What the fuck. Of course there was a connection. He’s in love with her. This makes no sense, he doesn’t know her—only that she’s beautiful—but he’s madly and stupidly in love.
“Look, Ms. Martin—”
“Please Tony, call me Kate.”
“Okay, Kate. I’m an assistant DA, that means I have all sorts of ethical issues just talking to you—but if we’re talking about me helping you with something that could be handled by the DA’s office, there are also legal issues. You need to contact your attorney and let him handle whatever legal matters may arise from your arrest. He’s one of the best defense attorneys in town.”
“Yes, I know. He’ll handle the arrest that has brought us together. I wanted to talk to you because I think I’m going to be charged with murdering my fiancé, Jeffery Peterson.”
Tony felt like he was on a slippery slope straight to hell. He wanted desperately to be with this woman for the rest of his life. Now she’s telling him she might be a suspect in the death of her fiancé. He should get up, not say an
other word, and leave. If he did anything else, he’d regret it. He looked at Kate and she smiled a gentle, questioning smile. He just sat there and said nothing. What were the odds that this was just some kind of strange dream?
“Sorry about dropping that on you. By the way I had nothing to do with his death. He died, I think, of a drug overdose, and I have no idea if it was an accident or murder. I arrived in Houston three days ago, and when I went to his penthouse he was already dead.”
“Kate, why are you telling me this?”
“I’m a very serious person, so this type of behavior is out of character. I thought we shared a moment, and I was interested in seeing you again. If the next time you heard my name was in connection with someone’s death and I was a logical suspect—well, you might run away and never talk to me again. I didn’t want that to happen.”
Well, at least there was one possible explanation for her behavior other than wanting him to get her off of a murder charge.
“You seem very calm about the death of your fiancé.”
“Yes, I know. He and I have not really been engaged. I’ve cried over Jeffery in private, we were just friends. It was one of those things our families thought made sense, so we went along with it, but it had always just been a front to avoid arguments. As a matter of fact, he was gay—his family didn’t know.”
“If he wasn’t really your fiancé, why were you in Houston to see him?”
“He asked me to bring him the $250,000. He told me to go to a bank in Boston and they would give me the money. He wanted me to fly to Houston and bring the money to him. I asked him what the hell was going on, he only said he was in some trouble and needed the cash and that he’d explain when I got here. Not too bright on my part, but while he wasn’t my type of man, he was a great friend and I cared about him a lot.”
“He had that kind of money readily available?”
“Oh my goodness, yes. His family is probably worth billions, but Jeffery himself must have been worth over fifty million.”
“Wasn’t there a problem carrying that much money on a flight?”