Miscarriage Of Justice (17 page)

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Authors: Bruce A Borders

Tags: #payback, #justice system, #clean read, #nothing but the truth, #Suspense, #not guilty, #jail, #ex-con, #innocent man, #novel, #Crime, #wrongly accused, #district attorney, #revenge, #criminal intent, #prison, #crime fiction best sellers, #prison life, #jury, #Family, #Truck Driving, #Murder, #court system, #body of evidence, #courtroom drama fiction

BOOK: Miscarriage Of Justice
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“What’s so funny?” demanded Mariana.

“This is hard!” Jessi complained. “I’ve never undressed a woman before.”

In an appalling tone and Mariana said, “Well, don’t get any ideas or you’ll be headed back home real quick.”

Finally, the dress pulled free, and Jessi held it up to her shoulders. “How does it look?”

“Not bad,” Mariana said. Then with a sly look she added, “But I think you’ll need to actually put it on if you expect to attract a man with it.”

“Why?” asked Jessi facetiously. “They’d just want to take it right back off.”

“Yeah, that seems to be what they all want,” Mariana agreed. “Except my new man Ethan. He wants to send me packages in the mail, make annoying phone calls and break into my house.”

“Oh,” Jessi suddenly exclaimed. “That reminds me!” Dashing out the door, she returned just as quickly, waving a pack of 9-volt batteries.

“I told you not to buy any,” Mariana scolded.

“Uh-huh,” Jessi nodded. “Have you put one in yet?”

Mariana couldn’t hide her guilt. “Well, no,” she admitted.

“Yeah, I knew that.”

Mariana playfully snatched the pack from her friend’s hand and tore it open as she walked to the control box. Opening the lid, she installed the battery and snapped the cover shut. “Happy now?”

Continuing her mothering role, Jessi spouted back, “At least I’ll know if your new man comes calling in the middle of the night I’ll hear him.” She grinned. “So don’t try anything.”

“Okay. You win.” Mariana relented. “Can we move on now? What do you want to do?”

Jessi was sitting cross-legged on the floor, sorting through the decks of cards that had been mixed together. She looked up, eyes dancing mischievously. “We could order a pizza, and play cards all night,” she suggested. “Like the old days.”

“Don’t you ever eat real food?” Mariana complained.

“Sure, why?” Did you cook something?” Jessi asked hopefully.

“No,” Mariana said. Then, looking as if she had just thought of a brilliant idea she quipped, “Why don’t we order a pizza?”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Jessi remarked dryly.

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

 

Loneliness. That was his problem. Ethan had finally figured out what was missing. The natural expectation of a long-term inmate, who’s been released, is that he’ll be able to associate and interact with people again. Normal people. Real people. Friends and family.

But not for Ethan.

He had none of either, at least none who cared. No one to talk with. No one to share the ups and downs of life. No one with whom he could just hang out. Though lately, his activities were probably not something he’d want to share with anyone, he decided. Still, it would be nice to have at least one friend. Someone he could count on to be understanding; someone he could confide in, or just keep him company. Someone with whom he could look forward to the future.

Oddly, the only people with whom he felt connected, or could even remotely call his friends, were the inmates at Gray Rock. But they were friends by default, having been thrust together and forced to endure the intolerable life of prison. The natural result was a bond bringing them together against a common enemy. The one possible exception was Shag, his cellmate, the guy should be out by now, but as past friendships go, they weren’t likely to reunite. Circumstances had changed.

For the moment however, Ethan’s current situation seemed to be what life had dictated. In retrospect, he knew it was the path he had chosen. Yet, it really wasn’t his choice any longer. After contemplating it, diligently devising, assiduously planning, scheming, and waiting patiently for these many years, it now had taken on a life of its own and seemed to be controlling him, rather than allowing him to be in charge. Though even in light of that recognition, the expected satisfaction was still strangely lacking.

The thought had crossed his mind to just forget it all and get on with his life. Maybe go see the pretty saleslady at the clothing store. What was her name again? Lacy. The name fit, considering where she worked and her delicate features. He said the name aloud and closed his eyes as if the sound would somehow conjure up a more vivid image. For a brief moment, his mind trailed off into a fantasy world of what-if. He smiled, and then frowned. Enticing as it seemed, it was a fleeting notion. Something inside was driving him to pursue his mission to the end. A bigger principle was at work, the principle of justice—a principle that demanded the guilty pay. If he were to abandon his cause, Mariana would never be held accountable for or own up to what she had done. She would get away with it—scott free! That simply was unacceptable, something his conscience would not allow. So, the show must go on.

That was his psychobabble explanation to describe the uneasy way he felt, and the reason for the doldrums he was experiencing. In the end, he did not intend to give up his quest for justice, not just yet.

He suffered no disillusion that his chosen tactics were daring escapades. Not even close. It was mere child’s play and he knew it. Although he took no pride in his actions, he did find a certain pleasure in Mariana’s pain. And he would continue to disseminate his private venture of justice to the one person he despised more than anyone in the world, Miss Clark. She had taken everything he owned, robbed him of all he held dear when she’d sent him off to prison. No matter how lackadaisical his mood became, inside he was still seething with anger. He still whole-heartedly intended to get even!

The knowledge that he could easily wind up back in prison for what he was doing, did not dissuade his resolve. He did take some degree of solace in the theory that if Mariana hadn’t taken legal action by now; it was safe to assume she probably wasn’t going to do so.

On Friday, the day after he’d set up the casino, Ethan again made the trip to Cedar Springs. Driving by Mariana’s house, he’d seen Jessi’s blue pickup parked in the drive, and wondered who was visiting. After eating supper in town, he’d swung back by on his way home and the four-wheel-drive had still been there.

He smirked as he drove past. “Got her spooked now. She’s got someone staying there.”

Through the kitchen window, he’d seen the two women seated at the table. Though he had no idea who Jessi was, a friend or a cousin he supposed, he concluded his antics were getting to Mariana. Apparently, the D.A. wasn’t nearly as serene and confident as the image she tried to project.

Not knowing how long her visitor planned to stay, Ethan held off making any calls until Sunday evening. And he still half expected an unfamiliar voice to answer. When the machine picked up, he hung up the phone. Undeterred, he moved on. There were plenty of other ways to get to the woman.

The next day, slipping on his jacket to protect against the slight chill in the crisp morning air that was sure to be lingering in the nearby mountains, he set out for the country. Driving for about an hour, he spotted a large outcropping of rocks. Ethan pulled to the side of the road and shut off the engine. With the recent warm days and cool nights, he should be able to find at least two or three rattlesnakes coming out to enjoy the relaxing rays of the sun.

It took longer than he’d expected, but by mid-afternoon he finally managed to snare a couple of the slithery creatures and even avoid being bitten. Depositing the reptiles into a large plastic bin, he quickly put the crate in the trunk and closed the lid.

Turning the car toward Cedar Springs, he arrived downtown a few minutes past three o’clock. Picking up his phone from the seat, he dialed the District Attorney’s office. If this were a typical Monday, Mariana should be secreted away in court, which meant her car would be in the county parking lot—unattended. Granted, there may be a few people in the area, but that only added to the thrill and suspense. Deputies, lawyers, and judges, supposedly the most astute and observant people in town, could potentially be watching. Even so, Ethan was betting he could do whatever he wanted and they wouldn’t notice him. They’d all be too busy with “official business” to bother with him.

When Mariana’s secretary answered, his earlier speculation was confirmed. The D.A. wouldn’t be in until late that afternoon, he was told. Five minutes later, Ethan pulled up next to her red Corvette. Glancing around he saw that true to his prediction, law enforcement officers and other passersby paid no heed as he produced a homemade slimjim and walked purposefully to the bright red sports car.

With the ease of a practiced car thief, Ethan had the driver’s door of the Corvette unlocked in seconds. Opening it just enough to pop the trunk release, he pushed it shut, and then stowed the burglar tool behind the seat of his own car. Unlocking the trunk of his own car, he picked up the box with the pair of snakes and carried it to Mariana’s vehicle. Raising the trunk lid, he set the box inside and slowly opened the lid.

The snakes were angry and riled, having been disturbed from their leisurely environment and held in the bin. They hissed at him and rattled their tails threateningly. Turning the box on its side, he warily tried to coax the creepy beasts out of their cage. True to their vile nature, the rattlers were most uncooperative and stayed put.

Not being much of a snake charmer, an impatient but cautious Ethan, grasped the bottom of the box and dumped the slithering reptiles out. Then, careful to keep the bin between the snakes and his body, he quickly pulled out the box and slammed the trunk lid down.

Trying not to appear guilty, he glanced around the parking lot again. Still, not a soul paid him any mind. Casually replacing the box in his car, he closed the trunk and slid back into the driver’s seat.

“That should rattle her nerves a bit,” he chuckled as he sped away.

Rather than put the snakes in the front, where she could’ve spotted them before opening the door and possibly avoid the whole chaotic scene, he’d chosen the trunk. It may take a bit longer for her to discover them, but when she did, they would be more than a little angry!

His heart was still beating a mile a minute. He didn’t really like snakes himself. He laughed again. But they did serve a purpose and came in handy for certain occasions.

Waiting until seven that night, figuring she’d had plenty of time to get home, Ethan again dialed Mariana’s number. The D.A. answered on the second ring.

At last, he spoke directly to the woman who’d sent him to Granite Hills sixteen years before. “So, was condemning an innocent man to prison, all for the sake of your precious career really worth it?” he sneered in the best sinister voice he could muster.

A few tense seconds of silence followed before Mariana found her voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really?” Ethan shot back. “So why do you put up with all of this?”

He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head as she hesitated. Finally, the nervous D.A. responded in a tight-lipped tone. “Why do you keep calling me?”

Why do you keep answering? Ethan wondered. But before he had a chance to say anything, the line went dead. She’d hung up on him! Obviously, she hadn’t yet discovered the snakes, or she’d have mentioned it.

Ethan pulled a crinkled piece of paper from his pocket. He’d conned Mariana’s secretary, or receptionist, he wasn’t sure what she was called, into giving him the cell phone number of the D.A. weeks ago. The most amusing part of it was, Miss Gooten had not a clue she’d even given it out. Punching in the number, he merrily hummed a tune, waiting for the woman to answer. She wouldn’t be expecting it to be him this time, that was for sure.

“Hello,” came the same voice in a much more confident and friendly manner.

“You shouldn’t hang up on people, it’s rude.” Ethan sternly admonished.

“How did you get this number?” a clearly upset Mariana demanded

Ethan chuckled, taunting her. “You’d be surprised by what all I have, and the things I know. For instance, I know that you were well aware I was innocent when you sent me off to prison.”

“You can’t prove that,” Mariana challenged.

Ethan sighed, she was probably right. He did have proof, but it wouldn’t be enough to convince those who mattered. Mariana was the only person in the world who would be interested in the thirty pictures he had tucked away. Pausing briefly, he wondered if she were trying to determine if he actually did have the photos as he’d alluded in the first letter he had sent. “I don’t have to prove it,” he said. “I learned sixteen years ago not to depend on the Court for any kind of justice. But I do have a nice set of pictures should anyone care. Pictures of a girl. A dead girl. She’s all dressed up.”

Mariana swallowed hard. Okay, so maybe he did have copies, but what difference did it make if he wasn’t going to show them to the Court?

“I also have some other pictures; snapshots,” he continued. “Half a dozen photographs of a certain young D.A., alone in a room, looking at something in front of a big grandfather clock, and there is one of her stuffing an envelope inside her jacket. A blue denim jacket, with embroidered white stars,” he finished. That ought to be enough to let her know he wasn’t bluffing.

Mariana’s heart sank. She hadn’t known for sure if any pictures were in his possession, but what he’d described was the scene at the Wyman house, the Sunday she’d gone to investigate. The mention of the blue jacket erased all doubt, he definitely wasn’t bluffing. He had at least seen some pictures; and apparently more photos than she had, it stood to reason they were likely still in his possession.

Biting her lip, Mariana asked tersely, “So what do you want from me? An apology? Money? How much will it take for you to stop harassing me?”

“I don’t want your money,” Ethan said flatly. “In fact, I don’t want anything from you.”

“Then why don’t you leave me alone?” snapped the exasperated D.A. “Stop calling. Stop sending me things in the mail and stop breaking into my house. Just leave me alone!”

“No, I can’t do that,” Ethan answered in a calm, almost tranquil tone. “You deserve to be harassed. I’m going to continue this for the rest of your life.”

There was no answer from her and then once more, the line went dead. She’d hung up on him—again. With an amused chuckle, he slipped the phone into his pocket. He’d call again tomorrow. For now, it was on to more of the little things that added a sparkle to his otherwise dull existence.

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