by Ford, Mia
They were trying to frame Paul for attempted murder.
That was exactly what this would look like to anyone who did not see the whole fight. Even if they had security cameras in the bar, it was so dark that it would be hard to see where the knife actually came from, if the camera picked it up at all.
Chip and Randy continued yelling and struggling, screaming obscenities, and threatening to kill Paul, who was leaning against the bar trying to recover from the pummeling he’d just received.
“Oh, my God! Honey, are you ok?” I asked Paul.
He nodded and slumped down on a stool. After a minute I could get a better read on him and I could see he was going to be ok after all. It was a good thing that the fight had been broken up when it had; there was no way he could have taken much more without serious injury.
“We need to get you to the hospital to get you checked out,” I said. I thought he would be fine, but just in case.
“No, I’m ok,” Paul said. “It doesn’t feel like anything is broken. I just want to go home.”
“That’s out of the question,” Davey said. “The cops take fighting in public very serious around here, especially since a weapon was involved. You will probably have to see the judge Monday.”
“What? What weapon? What are you talking about?” Paul asked. He still didn’t know.
Davey pointed to the knife on the ground.
Paul’s eyes went wide with fear.
“When did they pull that?” Paul asked.
“From what I heard, they said it was yours,” Davey replied.
“What? No way,” Paul said. “That’s not my knife. I don’t even own a switchblade.”
“You’ll have to tell all that to the cops,” Davey said.
“It’s just a bar fight. These things happen. I never even saw a knife. I sure as hell didn’t brandish one,” Paul said. “I’m not waiting around for this.”
“If you leave, then the cops will issue a warrant for your arrest and you will do jail time. I’m not joking. I’ve seen it happen too many times around here. Normally, I wouldn’t even report this to the police, but if they find out I don’t then my bar will be shut down. Like I said, we’ve got some very strict cops around here. You do not want to run from this.”
Paul grabbed my hand and held it tightly in his. He looked deeply into my eyes and for one of the few times since I’d known him he looked a bit scared. He tried to smile weakly at me as if reassuring me that everything was going to be ok, but I knew that he was scared.
“It’s going to be ok,” I said. “You didn’t do this; you are the victim here.”
“Yeah, except I threw the first punch,” Paul said. “And I threw the first punch at the tournament too. This doesn’t look good for me.”
“If we have to we can get a good lawyer,” I said. “My uncle Joe has some friends who are lawyers. He knows some people.”
“This is even worse because of some things in my past,” Paul said. “Things I’ve never told you.”
My mouth went dry and I tried to keep my breathing slow and steady. But I felt like the entire world was burning down around me.
And the flames were burning me inside out.
Chapter Twenty
Paul
I tried to close my eyes and get some sleep, but no matter what I did I couldn’t get my body to rest. My mind was racing, my chest felt heavy, and there was a constant sensation that I was falling combined with a feeling that I needed to run and to move… somewhere…
I felt like I was trying to crawl out of my own skin.
The cops had showed up about five minutes after the bar fight and myself, Chip, and his friend Randy were all arrested and booked with disturbing the peace, assault, and for me assault with a deadly weapon was added. If I didn’t prove my innocence on this I was looking at several years in a maximum security prison.
Debbie’s uncle Joe was good friends with one of the best criminal defense attorneys around and he’d already contacted him on my behalf. But it was the weekend so I had to spend the time in jail until I could see the judge on Monday morning and the prosecutor would try to convince them that this case needed to go to trial.
I was innocent.
But I had to prove it.
And with my record that was going to be tough.
Sitting there in the dark thinking about all of this was enough to drive someone mad. But I had to keep myself together if I ever expected to make it through this.
I had told Debbie everything about my past, things I’d wished to keep private. I thought she would be angry at me for keeping something so horrible from her, but she was understanding. She was more than understanding. She was there for me. Debbie just told me that everything was going to be ok, and while I was very uncertain as to what my future held, it made me feel better.
Thinking back on the crimes of my youth I felt a longing connection to it, to who I used to be. For whatever reason ever since I was young trouble had a way of finding me. I kept finding myself in the wrong place at the wrong time. That was one reason I thought a fresh start somewhere new could help with that. I hoped that I could leave the past behind and just start over.
But the past had a way of finding you. It stuck to you, and it would never go away. The only way to deal with it was to face it.
When I was eighteen my cousin Dylan and I stole a car. Well, he decided to steal the car and I just came along for the ride. We were both drinking, celebrating the fact we’d made it through high school and had our whole lives in front of us to chase our dreams. All kids that age feel the same way. We thought we were ready for whatever life threw at us.
We were both drunk off our asses. It was only the third time I’d ever been drunk, but of course I hadn’t told him that. My cousin was always a guy I had looked up to since we were kids. He had that crazy confidence about him where he didn’t take anything too seriously and he often laughed at the rules. That sort of thing is pretty fun when you are a kid and I wanted to be around that. I used to try to be like him. Hell, come to think of it I was more like him naturally than I thought.
At first I thought he was joking when he said he was going to steal a car that was parked on the corner. It was a nice, fairly new looking Porsche—his dream car. I practically dared him to really do it, but he didn’t need much prodding from me. He’d already made up his mind.
Dylan tried the door. It was locked. He checked around the bottom of the car to see if there was a magnet anywhere that might house a spare key. He came up empty.
“Well, you tried,” I teased.
But Dylan was not about to be deterred. He quickly grabbed a big rock and smashed the window out. The alarm went off instantly but Dylan hopped behind the wheel.
“Get in!” He shouted.
I was frozen with fear and panic, but I was standing there in the middle of town with a car alarm going off and my cousin behind the wheel ready to drive off. I quickly made a stupid snap decision and hopped in the car with him.
We only got about six blocks before the cops pulled us over.
Luckily we were both given a slap on the wrist since it was a first offense and we were barely eighteen and under the influence.
Lying there in my quiet cell I found myself chuckling about it now, but it was still a stupid blip on my record. Now stealing a car and assault with a deadly weapon were worlds apart in the felony scale, but it was still something the prosecution who depending how eager he was for a conviction could use to try to hang me in court.
“I should have just listened to Debbie,” I said to myself.
She’d urged me to leave the bar. She saw something bad coming, and of course so did I. In fact, I probably would have left if that bastard hadn’t started to talk smack to Debbie. That was it. Once that happened, just like at the tournament, I became a different guy. When it came to her I could not control myself. My protective instincts went wild.
And now I was in jail looking at an attempted murder charge.
“
Not smart, Paul,” I muttered. “Not smart at all.”
I just hoped that my lawyer would be able to get this all thrown out quickly. But I was not delusional enough to expect it and get my hopes up.
It was out of my hands now.
* * *
“Your honor, Paul Henry is a loose cannon. He is violent crime waiting to happen. If we don’t move forward with this then we are putting society at risk. It is only a matter of time before someone ends up seriously injured, or worse, at his hands.”
I almost laughed out loud listening to this pompous, short little, bald man who reminded me a lot of the “George Costanza” character on the television sitcom Seinfeld.
He was really laying it on thick. It was hilarious, really. But I hoped the judge shared my sense of humor on the subject. I had a feeling he might not.
“Defense you may present your statement,” the judge said.
The judge was a man who looked like he’d been doing this way too long. He was in his early sixties, his hair grayer than it should have been, almost white, and he had the energy of someone who hadn’t slept in about five days. If anyone needed coffee, it was this guy.
My lawyer, Robert Dane, an old friend of Joe’s stood up then and began to speak.
“Thank you, your honor,” He said. “My client, Paul Henry, is not a menace to society as opposing counsel would have you believe. Has he made some mistakes? Yes. Did he react brashly? Yes. Did he brandish a deadly weapon? No. No he did not, your honor and we do have proof of this.”
“What proof?” The judge said impatiently. He obviously wanted to get all of this over and done with and did not have the patience that morning for procedural structure.
“We just received the results back from the lab where the weapon was dusted for fingerprints. Only the fingerprints belonging to Chip Mathews and Randy Diels were on the weapon. My client never laid finger one on it.”
“He must have wiped it clean during the confusion,” the prosecutor said. “This is ludicrous!”
Robert looked at him with an eye roll.
“You’re saying he wiped it clean, but only his prints?”
I couldn’t hold back a slight chuckle. The prosecutor was looking stupid.
“Watching the surveillance tape we can clearly see that no one touched the knife once it was on the ground,” Robert continued. “And while we don’t see when the knife was produced, we do know that Chip Mathews and Randy Diels both stated they never saw or touched the knife. So they couldn’t have added their prints to it later. This is as open and shut of a case as I’ve ever seen your honor.”
The bailiff handed the lab report to the judge who took a few moments to look it over.
I looked up at Debbie who was smiling, tapping her toes nervously. Her parents, her uncle Joe, her aunt, Logan, Wanda, Mark, Greg, and Lara were all there to support me as well. It meant the world to me to have this kind of family support, which I considered all of them as part of my family now. The way they had embraced me as one of their own basically from the beginning because they could see how important Debbie and I were to each other was really touching. I felt like I had found a new home and I hoped to be able to stay there for a long time.
“Ok, I’ve reached a decision,” the judge said. “I move for dismissal of charges. There is no case here.”
“Alright, well that is that,” Robert said standing up and holding out his hand for me to shake it.
I was stunned. What had just happened? Was that really it? Everything was over? I sat there for a moment too frozen to speak.
Then I suddenly remembered how to use my legs and rose slowly, yet shakily, to my feet.
“Is… that it?” I asked nervously.
Robert laughed and slapped me playfully on the shoulder.
“That’s it slugger,” Robert said.
A wave of total happiness came over me. It was beyond happiness. I was downright giddy with glee.
I was free. It was all over.
A pair of arms were wrapped around me just then. It was Debbie. She hugged me so tight that lack of oxygen became a thing. I was a bit surprised that she was that strong.
“It’s over!” Debbie cheered in my ear. She spun me around and kissed me hard on the mouth just then, her soft lips pressing warmly against mine.
Everyone was thrilled to hear that the case had been thrown out and we promptly went to the best restaurant close by to celebrate.
It was a fun experience and the food was delicious. At least I think so. I was still too stunned to see straight. It probably took me at least a few hours to fully process that I was not going to be tried for attempted murder.
“So, what happens to Chip and Randy for trying to frame me?” I asked Robert after we’d both finished our dinners and were each relaxing with a nice cold beer.
“Well, they are looking at some possible jail time for framing you. That is actually serious business. Not to mention they were carrying a deadly weapon in town. In this town you aren’t allowed to carry anything more than a pocket knife or small can of pepper spray.”
“Good,” I said. “I hope they throw the book at them.”
“If they get the right judge they will,” Robert said.
“Like the one I just had?” I asked with a laugh.
Robert gave me a serious look and nodded. “Yeah. He is actually the worst.”
I stopped and looked over at Debbie whose eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and relief.
“You mean, if I’d somehow touched that knife in any way like by accident or something then I would probably be going to trial?”
“Oh, yeah,” Robert said. “Judge Naybors is a tiger. He is old and bitter and of the old school. But he is also rather fair as we saw today. He is very black and white; no gray area. So if Chip or Randy get him then they are going away for a while.”
I nodded and sipped my beer. I was feeling a bit conflicted. On the one hand I was glad both of those clowns were being punished for what they did. Picking a fight with me was one thing, but actually framing me for attempted murder or assault with a deadly weapon was something else entirely. They deserved to pay for what they did.
But I still wasn’t happy. I was glad that I would never be in the position to send someone to prison. I had so far never even been called to jury duty. I hoped if I ever did then it was something minor. If I was ever on a murder case I’m not sure I could do it.
“So, what happens next for you?” Robert asked me.
I smiled. “A lot of people have been asking me that lately,” I said looking over at Debbie. “The truth is I just don’t know.”
“Well, I’d like to offer you some free advice,” Robert said. “Always let a cooler head prevail. Doing something when you are angry or emotional almost always ends up badly. Most of my clients are people who let their emotions get the better of them and they ended up doing something stupid or being somewhere where something stupid happened to them.”
I nodded. That was something I definitely had to learn to control.
But Debbie was a trigger for me. I cared about her so much that anytime I felt she was in danger of any kind I lost it.
“Robert’s right, you know?” Debbie said later when we were driving home.
I was exhausted. The whole ordeal had worn me completely out, but I felt like driving. It was a privilege of the free, something I thought I might not get to do again for a long time.
It felt good to be behind the wheel. We were about ten minutes from home when she asked the question. We’d been listening to the radio and just enjoying the music without much conversation since we’d left the restaurant.
“About what?”
“Your temper,” Debbie said. “It is going to get you in real trouble one day.”
“I’ve actually gotten pretty good at controlling it, so much better than when I was younger, but I guess when it comes to you I can’t help it.
“Well, you are gonna have to,” Debbie said. “I can’t lose you.”
“I’m a big girl; I can handle myself,” Debbie said. “I don’t need protected all the time.”
I swallowed hard and felt a small wince of pain in my chest as she said those words. It was true, but I hated hearing it. My nature is to protect and she was telling me that she didn’t need my protection. It almost made me feel a little useless in a way, even though I realized this was stupid. If she was ever in any real danger then I would do anything I could to help her, but when it came to being insulted or someone just saying the wrong thing to her I had to keep my head together. It wasn’t going to do either of us any good if I ended up thrown in jail for something stupid.
“I know,” I said. “I’m going to try, I promise.”
Debbie gave me a look that indicated she didn’t fully believe me, but then smiled and shook her head.
“I love you,” Debbie said.
“I love you, too,” I replied.
And I did. With all my heart.
Chapter Twenty-One
Debbie
“Patrick Swayze will always be the hottest guy in movie history. I have spoken.”
Lara and I looked at each other, paused a beat, and then burst out laughing.
My cousin Cindy looked at us both like we had the plague and turned up her nose dramatically, playing up being totally offended.
“You aren’t wrong, but I’m, not sure you just saying that means that the whole world knows and accepts it,” Lara said. “You might have to go online and write it somewhere, or create a website or a blog about it.”
“Right,” I agreed. “It has to be stated somewhere that a lot of people will see it. Not just the three of us.”
“You guys, have no vision,” Cindy said.