Off the Beaten Path (8 page)

She winked at him, “It will go great with the towel I stole from the bathroom.”

“I will be tracking you down to get that back,” he threatened her with his best Clint Eastwood squint.

“That was my plan, I’ll be waiting.” She said eagerly.

As they stepped out on the front porch they saw Sam patiently waiting in front of Kristin’s car door. They walked down the front steps and over to where Sam was waiting. Jack reached around Kristin and lifted her off the ground as he kissed her until Sam barked at him in reproach. He set her down as their lips parted neither one of them wanted to be the first to say goodbye. Kristin dropped to the ground and gave Sam a huge hug and an ear scratch for good measure. After the hug Sam walked around behind Jack and sat down, she knew she was not going with Kristin this time. Jack opened the door for Kristin to climb in he leaned in and gave her one last kiss goodbye, neither one of them said a word.

As she pulled out of the driveway Sam and Jack stood in the same spot and watched the car until all they could see was a cloud of dust. They remained in the same spot until the cloud of dust disappeared. Sam looked up at Jack and made a noise that sounded like a low whine. Jack looked down and patted Sam on her furry head and said, “I know Samantha, I miss her already.”

Kristin brought the car to a stop where the gravel met the blacktop. It was going to be a beautiful day to be driving. She pushed the button that folded the top down and reached into her purse for her sunglasses it was then that she saw it her wedding ring lying in the bottom of her purse. She pulled the ring out of her handbag and looked at it like for a long minute. It seemed tarnished and cheap like it was an old piece of dime store jewelry that she had forgotten she owned. Then almost as if she was throwing away an old piece of gum that had lost its flavor she flung the ring out the window and across the road into the heavy brush next to the road. She put on her sunglasses and pushed down hard on the accelerator the car threw gravel and the tires spun until they found enough asphalt to send the sports car flying down the two lane road, the ring disappeared in a cloud of dust behind her.

She had three thoughts running through her mind, it was going to be a great for driving, she could not wait to get back to work, and she had absolutely no idea when she would see Jack Evans again, but she was sure that she would see him again.

Behind the Pain

The old judge slammed his gavel down on the bench repeatedly as the fever pitch of chatter in the courtroom died down to a dull murmur. The silky smooth defense attorney that had caused the uproar with his first question of his cross-examination spread his hands magnanimously and offered to the packed courtroom,

“I withdraw the question your honor.” The leading question that the defense had asked the young women sitting on the witness stand was,

“Miss Conley, weren't you stalking the man that you accused of raping you?”

After the judge regained control of his courtroom the defense attorney continued, “Miss Conley, how well did you know Daniel Gather?”

The revised question by the defense attorney was a perfect example of one of the tactics that he used to personalize and humanize whatever client he was defending. He never referred to one of his clients as The Defendant or My Client. He always used their name and not just their first name whenever possible, but the friendliest version of their name or a nickname that he would establish early on in the proceedings that his client was just a regular guy. Among his legal peers this type of legal maneuvering had earned him the nickname “Mr. Congeniality.” He did everything within his extraordinary legal skills to make his client friendly to the jury.

The accused rapist was the son of a prominent and very successful preacher of one of the largest mega-churches in the south.

Daniel Gaither's father Jacob Gaither presided over a religious empire that included three packed to the rafters worship services each Sunday, all on live television. A small but rapidly growing Christian college, a dozen books on role of a Christian in today's world. And a steady stream of appearance on most of the major television networks when anything religious was in the current news cycle.

The accused rapist, Daniel Gather, was tall and extremely handsome with coal black hair and deep blue eyes that seemed even a deeper blue against his permanent tan. He was an avid golfer and played tennis three days each week with one of the local tennis professionals. A Houston newscaster had to publicly apologize for referring to him on air as a “Country Club Christian”.

The young Mr. Gaither was married to a beautiful socialite, Wendy Nelson. Whose father was the CEO of a large investment firm. And who was also one of the founding members of the Gaither's foundation. They also had two perfectly adorable children, Alyssa and Dan Junior.

The slick defense attorney finished up his cross-examination of the girl sitting in the witness stand by doing what he did best. By portraying his client as a victim of an obsessed young lady fixated on a successful, handsome man with a beautiful family.

He left the impression as he excused the young lady that she did just want to seduce Daniel Gather, she wanted to take over his life.

It didn't hurt his defense that during the trial he had placed the Daniel Gaither's drop dead gorgeous wife in the gallery directly behind the defense table. Before the trial had begun he had instructed Daniel and his wife to show as much love and affection for each other as they could tactfully demonstrate in public, holding hands during breaks in the proceedings, little love notes of support on expensive linen stationary passed back and forth during the trial, smiles and winks
when they thought no one was looking. But everyone was looking, by the time the closing statements were delivered the entire courtroom, including the jury was watching Daniel and his wife Wendy like they were an episode of “Dancing with the stars”

Before the judge sent the jury off to reach their verdict the slick attorney had reiterated those points in his closing statement with all the charm and assurance of a man positive of his client’s innocence.

After the jury filed back into the courtroom the judge turned toward the jury foreman and asked if they had reached a verdict. The jury foreman said that they had and handed the slip of paper with the verdict on it to the bailiff who in turn handed it ceremoniously to the Judge. The judge slipped on his bifocals and starred at the paper for what seemed like an eternity. As he lifted his gaze from the scrap of paper he addressed the jury, “What say the jury in the people vs. Gathier? The jury foreman who had been waiting patiently drew in a breath and recited their decision tonelessly. “We find the accused, Daniel Gathier, Not Guilty.”

When those eight infamous words drifted over the courtroom and settled on the crowd that was holding its collective breath, the overflowing courtroom erupted. The deafening cheers and painful moans of the crowd merged into a hysterical screech that sounded like the last gasp of a dying animal.

Mr. Congeniality remained seated at the defense table despite the hands that tugged at him trying to drag him to his feet to congratulate him. He forced himself to peer through the sea of suits and expensive dresses that had spilled over into the front of the courtroom. He knew before he looked what he would see. Jennifer Louise Conley was the only other person still sitting in the courtroom. There were also hands and arms attempting to pull her to her feet, but for a different reason, to console her.

What the defense attorney saw next was not what he had envisioned. The girl was not starring down into her lap or crying into
her hands hysterically she was looking straight at him. Everything in his mind stopped, he couldn't hear the praise from his client or his family. He couldn't hear the sobbing from the young girl’s mother as she tried to embrace her. The distance between them seemed to contract into a narrow tunnel of light and imagination. A tunnel that excluded everyone and everything else in existence. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. There was moisture in and around her eyes they were as clear and bright as any eyes he had ever seen. Jennifer was looking at him with........sympathy, like he was the one that had just lost. A single tear escaped and trickled down her cheek and a slow painful smile creased the corners of her mouth. He tried to smile back at her, but as hard as he tried he could not force even a hint of a smile. And it hit him, the tear she shed was not for herself, it was for him.

The moment was broken when a large sweaty hand broke the field of vision between them and he heard a smooth practiced voice say, “God Bless you, Son”. It was none other than Pastor Jacob Gaither himself bestowing praise and God's blessing on him for seeing that justice was done. The attorney looked from the sweaty hand up the fleshy arm and into the face of the distinguished reverend. His first thought as he looked into the flabby face was, “The self-righteous, Bastard really believes that justice was done”.

His next thought was a question, who was worse, him or the good reverend. He could understand the blind loyalty of a parent to a child, but to consciously choose to defend someone who he suspected, no, knew to be guilty as sin. He realized with unforgiving clarity who was worse, he was.

He did not shake the sweaty hand extended in his direction. Instead he tried to move around the rather large frame of the reverend blocking his vision and tried to get another glance at the girl that he had just destroyed.

The truth was that she had not been destroyed. The reality was that from the very beginning of this ordeal Jennifer had stood against everything that she had been told. She stood against her mother's insistence that, “No good could be served by such a public trial”. She had stood against the lawyer that her father had hired when he saw how determined she was. Her lawyer had told her with unwavering certainty that she had almost “No Chance of winning this court battle”. She had stood against the generous out of court settlement that the good reverend had offered to, “Help her secure her future”. She understood instantly that the good reverend was more interested in his son's future than hers.

When the defense attorney could finally see around the reverend he saw the empty chair where Jennifer had been sitting. In the brief moment that the reverend had captured his attention she had escaped from the courtroom. He stood up and looked over the crowd and thought he could see the back of her head. For just a split second he thought that he saw her blond ponytail bobbing in the crowd. He was sure that it was not her, the blond hair in the crowd did not have the pink ribbon in it that she had had in her hair every day of the trial.

He made his way over to the prosecution table and the empty chair where Jennifer had been sitting. As he turned to leave his eyes caught a glimpse of something resting on the seat of the old hard wood chair where she had been sitting. He reached down and picked up a pink ribbon.

Even though she had not wept openly at the verdict he thought that he could feel her tears soaked deep into the ribbon. A smile came across his face when he realized that she had left the ribbon for him. She had forgiven him and as he turned left the courtroom he knew what he was going to do.

The next morning the defense attorney walked straight into the senior partner’s office of the law firm of Hendricks, Dillon, & Marshal, the firm that employed him, without an appointment. The senior
partner came out of his chair with a gracious smile and his hand extended, “Hell of a win yesterday, Jack, Hell of a win”. Jack Evans thought to himself, Ya it was a Hell of a win yesterday, or at least a win that would send him to Hell. But that was not the direction that he wanted to go. After offers of coffee or maybe something a little stronger Mr. Hendricks could see that his Lead defense council had something on his mind, “What can I do for you, Jack?. Jack did not blink, “I'm Done.” he said it with such force and conviction that the stoic Mr. Hendricks burst out laughing, he thought that he was being, what did the kids call it, punked. When Jack stood there without a single outward sign of emotion the laughter died and the smile disappeared from the old lawyers face. The only thing that he could say was, “Holy Shit, you’re serious?”

Jack said in a relaxed confident tone of a man that has weighed every option in his mind and has made a decision so final that no force human or otherwise could sway him. The senior partner grew a hopefully devious smirk across his face and said in his low savvy lawyer voice, “Is it more money?” He saw Jack's face harden and knew in an instant that it was not about money. The senior partner stood up walked around and sat down on the edge of the desk and looked down at Jack.

He asked, “Jack, what is this about?” even though he knew the answer before Jack opened his mouth.

“It’s about what I did to that innocent girl, I am as guilty as that son of a bitch that raped her”

Mr. Hendricks drew a deep thoughtful breath and addressed Jack as if he was speaking to a jury.

“Jack, it’s part of the job. A defense attorney can't afford to choose only the good people to defend; we would all be out of business.” He thought that his last statement would at least get a smile out of Jack, it did not.

He had known Jack Evans long enough to know that when he made his mind up there was no changing it. The two men starred hard at each other and did not move. The senior partner was trying to figure out what to say to make him stay. Jack remained silent and gave him every opportunity to try and think of that reason. When the two men knew it was done they both stood and shook hands. Mr. Hendricks wished him the best and asked him what he planned to do. Jack answered as simply, “I’m heading back home to raise Buffalo.” The senior lawyer burst out laughing and said, “Jack, you’re trading in one form of Bullshit for another.”