The Home Court Advantage (22 page)

“The cabins have private hot tubs!” I said, ignoring them.

“On the other hand …” Braden said.

“And a fireplace, and big screen TV, and a bar …”

“Okay, maybe that’s luxurious enough.” Cam came around too.

I reserved the last luxury cabin for Friday and Saturday night. We decided that if everyone agreed we would drive up after work. Jess had been searching for something on her own computer while I was checking out the digs and booking our accommodations.

“Ah ha! I found something we can watch tonight to get in the mood for our romantic weekend getaway.”

She went over to the TV and set up the computer stream. I came back over curiously and resumed my snuggle position. I saw the logo for the History Channel and then the name of the show – The UFO Conspiracy. Great.

Friday

“Mr. Mickley, would you please tell the court what happened outside the Bucket O’ Chicken restaurant that you manage on September third?” Braden asked.

“Yes sir,” Mr. Mickley, who bore a striking resemblance to Orville Redenbacher, answered politely. “I hired the defendant, Mr. Jennings, to hand out flyers on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. One of my employees let me know there was a disturbance and I went out to see what going on. I saw Mr. Jennings arguing with another man and it became physical.”

“What do you mean by that?” Braden asked. I knew that this was another one of “those” cases and I had prepared myself mentally as best I could.

“I saw Mr. Jennings start pecking the other man.” Yes, he did really just say “pecking”.

“Would you explain what you mean by pecking?” Braden asked.

“He was wearing a chicken suit and it had a plastic beak attached to the headpiece. Mr. Jennings began vigorously nodding at the other man in a manner that looked like a chicken pecking.”

“What did the other man do?”

“He turned and started to run and Mr. Jennings pursued him.”

“What happened then?”

“The man attempted to cross the street and Mr. Jennings followed, which caused several cars to slam on their brakes. Then one of the drivers got out and yelled something and Mr. Jennings attempted to peck him too but several bystanders intervened.”

“No further questions,” Braden said and glanced at me. I stood up and walked over to question Orville.

“You didn’t hear the exchange between Mr. Jennings and the man on the sidewalk. Correct?”

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“It is possible that Mr. Jennings was actually nodding, as in agreeing?”

“Well, technically, yes …”

“And the other man did shove Mr. Jennings after the nodding?”

“He did, but it looked like he was trying to keep Mr. Jennings back.”

“But you don’t know that was his intention, correct?”

“Well, no.”

“You also didn’t overhear the conversation between Mr. Jennings and the driver of the car that stopped. Right?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“So, again, he could have been agreeing with something the driver said, correct?”

“I suppose it’s possible, but it looked like …”

“Thank you. No further questions.”

“Redirect?”

“No, Your Honor. The Commonwealth rests but Mr. Robbins, the man from the sidewalk and Mr. Thomas, the driver would both be available to testify at trial.”

“Okay, Ms. Ginsburg, I assume you don’t have any evidence to present.”

“Wait a minute!” my client stood up and announced in a very loud voice.
Oh Jesus Christ no!
We had
discussed
this. I had explained the difference between a preliminary hearing like this one and a trial. I had also explained what a
bad
choice it would be to testify. I tried to talk to him but he wasn’t listening. “I have a right to be heard!” he boomed in an exceedingly dramatic manner.
Shit.

“Ms. Ginsburg,” Judge Channing said with a warning tone. What did he want me to do, wrestle Tweety Bird to the ground? I tried threatening and pleading with my client to no avail. Why did nobody ever listen to me?

“I wish to testify!” he cried as if he were making a declaration of war.

“I’m sure that Ms. Ginsburg informed you that it would not be in your interest to testify, Mr. Jennings,” the judge announced in a scathing tone, “However, if you
insist
then take the stand. Swear him in, Wayne.”

I had a feeling that Braden was going to see me drunk for a second time soon. I got up to do my duty.

“Mr. Jennings, would you please
briefly
explain what happened on the day in question,” I asked resignedly.

“Well, first of all, hello, I’m Lance Jennings and I’m an actor,” he explained to the judge, sounding like he was doing a public service announcement. “I was hired to do promotional work for the Bucket O’ Chicken restaurant. I was
not
informed that I might be verbally abused and attacked in the street!”

“Objection. Nonresponsive,” Braden interrupted.

“Get to the point, Mr. Jennings!” Judge Channing admonished.

“I was simply playing my role out on the sidewalk when a cretin with dreadlocks began calling me a murderer. Like I killed the damned chickens myself! I don’t even
like
chicken!”

“He called you a ‘murderer’. Did he threaten you in any way?” I asked with a glimmer of hope. Maybe I could at least build a record to support a defense for trial.

“Yes! He asked me how I would like it if someone lopped off my leg and served it with gravy! I was in fear for my life!” There went the glimmer. The chicken was a ham.

“Did he make any aggressive moves?” I tried another tactic. Maybe Orville had missed something. His glasses were about six inches thick, after all.

“Objection! Calls for interpretation,” Braden said.

“Overruled. You can answer,” the judge replied.

“He
jabbed
me!” He said it like someone would say “I’m hit!”

“He jabbed you?”

“With his finger!” He looked traumatized.

“Did that place you in fear?”

“Objection! Leading in effect if not in form. She’s telling him what to say, Your Honor,” Braden correctly pointed out.

“Sustained,” Judge Channing ruled. “Don’t answer that, Mr. Jennings.”

“How did it make you feel?” I tried again.

“I was in fear of course! God only knows where that finger had been! He looked like he hadn’t bathed in about a decade. I’ll probably get a disease!”

Curiosity got the better of me then and I glanced at Braden, who, as I suspected, was biting his own finger trying desperately not to laugh. He looked away so that he wouldn’t lose it.

“So what happened then?”

“I defended myself by the only means available to me! I
pecked
him!” Braden suddenly had a coughing fit behind me.

“So the pecking was a defensive move?”

“Yes!”

“Why did you chase after him?”

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head and looking like he was searching for an answer in the very depths of his very soul. “I can only assume that it was temporary insanity brought on by emotional anguish.” Oh, wasn’t
that
special? Now the chicken was a lawyer too.

“And what happened with the driver of the car?”

“He tried to kill me! That vehicle was a deadly weapon in his hands and then he got out of it and yelled at me very rudely! I knew that someone that uncivilized had to be violent. I did what I
had
to do.”

“No further questions.” I sat down and thanked the good Lord for creating vodka.

“Mr. Pierce?” Judge Channing asked in a falsely cheerful voice. Braden stood up and approached Mr. Jennings cautiously. I didn’t blame him. Mr. Jennings did seem like kind of a volatile guy even peckerless like today.

“Just to be clear here, Mr. Jennings, you were not actually nodding in agreement with either the man on the sidewalk or the driver of the car at any time. Correct?”

“Agreement?! With those Philistines?! No!”

“You freely admit that you did, in fact, peck the man on the sidewalk and attempt to peck the driver of the car?”

“And I would do it again,” he said in a dramatically hushed tone. I half expected him to stand up and do a sweeping bow.

“No further questions,” Braden said.

“Defense rests.”

“Argument?” Judge Channing was being so calm that I got a little worried. I cleared my throat, stood, and with as much dignity as I could muster did my best to make a professional-sounding legal argument. Or at least one that was less asinine than my client’s testimony.

“Your Honor, my client, Mr. Jennings, has testified that he was in fear for his safety,and not thinking clearly due to the … emotional anguish … he was suffering. I would argue that he lacked the necessary intent to commit simple assault.”

“Mr. Pierce?” the judge asked with a smile. I was getting really worried now.

“Your Honor, I’m pretty sure that he just confessed to assault under oath.”

“That would be
my
interpretation as well, Mr. Pierce,” Judge Channing said. “Mr. Jennings, from now on I would seriously consider listening to your attorney. I’m going to advise the Commonwealth to add the charges of reckless endangerment and aggravated assault. I’m holding all of the other charges for trial. Schedule it, Wayne! Court adjourned!” He banged his gavel so hard I thought he might break it and then he got up and stalked off the bench.

“This is a miscarriage of justice!” Mr. Jennings cried as the deputy led him away. Wow, what an exit. I turned slowly to face Braden who was sitting at the prosecution table. I saw Adam and Jess approaching from opposite sides of the courtroom.

“Go ahead,” I said to Braden.

“Oh, baby, I just don’t even know what to say.” He was trying
really
hard not to laugh.

“I’m sure
you
can think of something,” I said to Adam.

“Too easy,” he said, also obviously trying to contain his mirth. Hey, at least I had cheered him up!

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

“Just what I said. Too easy, and too easy is getting boring.”

“Gabrielle, honey, that was just bizarre,” Jess said sympathetically.

“I
told
that pecker not to testify,” I said through gritted teeth and Braden snorted with laughter and covered his face with his hands, trying not to completely lose it.

Adam started humming the Foghorn Leghorn song, filling in the “doo-dah, doo-dah,” and Braden almost choked.

We had all left work a bit early that day and met in the parking garage of Braden’s building. I had insisted that we rent a minivan. If there was one thing I remembered from the hellish experience of Girl Scout camp (other than the fact that mosquitoes the size of small poodles existed on Earth), it was that out in the woods it was best to do everything in groups. I might add we needed a large vehicle anyway since we had brought enough alcohol to guarantee that we would all being seeing UFOs by the end of the weekend. Adam thought that the image of Braden driving a Dodge Grand Caravan was extremely amusing, though.

“Dude, six months ago if I had suggested you would be driving this fine piece of machinery you would have told me to go fuck myself,” Adam said, laughing. I might add that Braden normally drove a BMW M6 convertible.

“Go fuck yourself,” Braden answered.

“I feel like we should be dropping somebody’s kids off at soccer practice,” Jess said.

“Or transporting a soccer league,” Lily added. Adam had seemed to take Lily’s presence in stride. In fact, I almost thought that he might have secretly been happy she was going. I was pretty sure that Adam really was getting bored with things that were too easy.

The trip would only take about forty-five minutes so we would be there in plenty of time for the opening get-together of the UFO gathering that I had also booked us into. I brought along plenty of information to supplement that fine documentary Jess had made us watch the other night. I wanted us to sound like well-informed conspiracy theorists, as I felt it was important to blend. God knows, we didn’t want to seem odd.