Lawyer & Liar

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by T Wells Brown




  Women of Wine Country

  Lawyer & Liar

  T Wells Brown

  TITLE WOMEN OF WINE COUNTRY – Lawyer and Liar

  Copyright © 2019 by T Wells Brown.

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner what so ever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  For information contact :

  Women of Wine Country

  PO Box 132

  Woodbridge Ca 95258

  http://www.womenofwinecountry.com

  Publisher : Women of Wine Country

  Book and Cover design by : Women of Wine Country

  Author Photo : Casey Evans Photography

  Editors : Mary T Ward

  Proof Reader : Deanna Sybrant

  Book Formating : Women of Wine Country

  First Edition : October 2019

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  To my Women of Wine Country Tribe,

  I cherish you.

  Without you and your support none of this would matter.

  I cannot wait to see what we do this next year, and all of the years after. Thank you for taking this journey with me and holding me up, while trusting me to make it worthwhile.

  I am eternally grateful for you all;

  My Tribe. My sisters.

  The Women of Wine Country Series continues!

  Check out the First and Second Books;

  Murder & Mayhem

  Lawyer & Liar

  Watch for these titles releasing soon;

  Beauty & Betrayal

  Grief & Greed

  Family & Fear

  Boards & Bombs

  Martini’s & Malice

  Rescue & Redemption

  Death & Deceit

  Want to stay current on all of the Women of Wine shenanigans?

  Sign up for our email list at:

  www.womenofwinecountry.com

  Join us on Facebook: Women of Wine Country group

  Follow us on Facebook: Women of Wine Country page for apparel and events in the Lodi Wine Appellation .

  Follow the author on Facebook for updates on new releases and the new series T Wells Brown is working on.

  Instagram: @womenofwinecountry and @twellsbrown

  Pinterest: Women of Wine Country

  Twitter: @twellsbrown

  Women of Wine Country Podcast

  Radio Show Women of Wine Country @ TVOSJ.org 107.9 FM Tracy CA

  www.womenofwinecountry.com

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, a giant thank you to my husband Donald who always supports and encourages me.

  My sons, Divas and my beloved family who always believed in me, even when I don’t believe in myself. I am nothing without you all.

  A huge thank you to my local community; Steve at The Woodbridge Crossing, who so generously allowed the book series launch party on their patio…and provided WINE SLUSHIES to the tribe.

  To my girls; Renee, Tanya, Dottie, and Karin for your constant and continued support and contribution.

  My musically talented friends; The Sweet Taunts who are so amazing and a big part of our tribe.

  Casey Evans Photography and his lovely bride Tara; I don’t know what I would do without you two. Love you both to the moon and back.

  Pablo and Kristen who have become part of our tribe and make amazing short documentaries. Thank you for telling our story so beautifully. You honor us.

  Rita Hill Photography who makes me look like a star, which I am so far from. Cathi, who keeps me on track with my brand.

  To my editor Mary, my many beta readers and my proof reader Deanna, I love you all and thank you for helping to bring the book to life.

  Welcome

  Thank you for joining us on our newest adventure.

  Women of Wine Country is a multi-dimensional organization devoted to the Lodi AVA; the Zinfandel capitol of the world, it’s sub wine appellation’s, businesses, communities and their charities.

  We are dedicated to promoting women entrepreneurs and professionals, who live and operate businesses and/or charities in our wine region.

  With 87 wineries in our appellation the opportunity to discover wonderful new wines and enjoy the winery’s events are endless.

  Sydney Mathews

  Interim President

  Avorio Manor

  Women of Wine Country

  www.womenofwinecountry.com

  For more information on the fabulous wineries in our wine region,

  Visit; www.lodiwine.com.

  I finally became so weary from the struggle, I threw in the towel.

  God threw it back and said,

  “Wipe your face girl. You’re almost there.”

  - Author unknown

  Chapter 1

  Man Down

  I was tired. Wearily tired. You know, the kind of tired that allows you to drive somewhere and once you’ve arrived, have no recollection of how you got there? That kind of tired.

  I was traveling home southbound on I-5 from the Sacramento airport after a long business trip in Europe. I hated to fly the red-eye, but it was so worth it if I got to sleep in my own bed and snuggle with my kitties.

  In an effort to keep myself alert, I had the AC blowing in my face and was bouncing my head, and singing at the top of my lungs to Gwen Steffani’s ‘Used to Love You’. The music was loud. My off-key singing was louder.

  Up ahead in the distance, I noticed blue and red lights strobing from the shoulder of the road. It was too far away to make out if it was police escorted roadwork, or if some poor soul had been pulled over and was receiving a traffic ticket at this ungodly hour.

  I stopped singing and turned the music down as I quickly approached the flashing lights. I could now see there was no road work and noted another car sitting on the shoulder directly in front of the cruiser.

  Some poor soul was indeed getting a ticket. Too bad for them. I blinked several times trying to focus on what I was seeing, trying to make out what was happening as I approached .

  I shoo k my head in disbelief and panic ensued, as my headlights caught the flash of two large people struggling as they stumbled from the shoulder of the road, where the cruiser was, onto the three-lane highway, where I was.

  They appeared to be locked in what looked to me, to be a fight to the death. The struggling men stumbled into the slow lane.

  No. No. No, that was the lane I was driving in.

  I was so exhausted my mind was having a hard time processing what was happening on the road before me. It was three in the morning and I’d started to wonder if I shouldn’t pull over and rest my eyes…seriously because this couldn’t possibly be real … could it?

  I switched lanes, glanced ahead to the right shoulder of the highway and identified that yes, it was indeed a CHP cruiser and I immediately slowed my speed.

  I looked back in my line of sight on the highway and noted that the struggling duo had now stumbled into the middle lane. That was the same lane I’d just moved to.

  It was easy to make out what was happening, the battling duo was clearly defined. They were both big men. One was the uniformed o
fficer, who was fighting hard with the other large guy.

  As I watched the struggle, I realized I was approaching them too quickly, even after slowing my speed. I slammed on my brakes and veered to the right, back toward the slow lane and the shoulder. But then, they did the same.

  I broke out in a sweat and my ears started ringing loudly.

  Gripping my steering wheel with all my strength, let’s face it, I was now in full-blown panic. I stomped on the brakes as hard as I could. I pulled on my steering wheel, trying my hardest to get as far right as I could and avoid hitting the struggling pair.

  But regardless of how far over I moved, they followed. It was like my headlights were a magnet and they kept shifting their battle directly into my path. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

  Great. I could see the headlines now; officer and assailant run over in the middle of the night by a small tired attorney. This would look terrible on my California State Bar profile. If I didn’t get a grip, I was going to be in trouble. I tried to clear my head and slowed my breathing.

  “ Think Sydney,” I whispered to myself, in an attempt to gain composure. For just a millisecond everything went blurry, but before I could freak out about it, the world snapped right back into crisp focus, clearer than before.

  I was wide awake and ready to take whatever control I could. I reached up and pressed a button on my rear-view mirror as my vehicle came to a stop right behind the struggle that was now between my car, and the back end of the police cruiser; “OnStar” a disembodied voice said.

  “Yes, my name is Sydney Mathews and I’ve pulled up on a fight between a lone law enforcement officer and another man. They’re in the middle of the road. I think the officer needs help. Can you ping my location and call it in? Please let them know I’m on site: female, shoulder-length brown hair, dressed in all white and my car is the white Cadillac SUV. The man who is struggling with the officer appears to be a white male… maybe a shaved head. I think he has tattoos or something on his head but I can’t tell…”

  Suddenly, there was a third person on the scene as my car’s headlights spotlighted the fight. The third person was also a man.

  The bald guy and the officer were in the fight of their lives. I’d never seen anything like it. They were swinging on each other in long powerful arches. The two would come together and struggle, moving the fight around between the road, and the shoulder of the highway. They would then push off each other and start swinging again. Back and forth they went. It looked like the officer was getting the upper hand and would possibly be able to take control of the situation. I glanced back at the new arrival.

  This guy was bald too. I watched his pale shiny head as he ran right up to the fighting twosome. I was focused on his head, so it took me a beat to notice he was holding a gun straight out in front of him aiming it at the officer.

  I gripped the steering wheel so hard my hands hurt, as the new guy fired several shots at the officer. The officer was so focused on the fight, he seemed unaware of the new arrival. The cop was in mid-swing, leaving his torso completely vulnerable. As if time slowed down I watched as the macabre scene unfolded before me. The officer’s body jerked with each bullet fired from the gun, as they entered his body.

  “OH MY GOD!” I screamed, “he just shot the officer! He just shot him. It was another male; light-skinned, bald head, black pants, and blue tee shirt…shit…the officer is staggering… the men are running to their car…truck! It’s a truck!”

  Oh, Lord Almighty!

  As the officer fell to his knees, both the shooter and the man the officer had been fighting with took off running to their vehicle. The truck spat gravel and dirt as it spun its wheels in its frantic effort to escape the scene.

  “… it’s a newer white Chevy four-door truck license plate 5ZJC907, please call nine-one-one now! I have to help the officer; I’m leaving the car.”

  “Ma'am, the police are on their way. We recommend you remain in your vehicle. ”

  “Just tell the responding officers I’m on the scene and I’m helping. And make sure you give them my description and tell them my name is Sydney.”

  I knew this OnStar operator didn’t know me, and I knew it was protocol to instruct me to stay in my vehicle but honestly, there was no way on God’s green earth I was going to sit in my car while an officer of the law, the same law I’d sworn to uphold, was bleeding out from gunshot wounds on the side of the highway. He was not meeting his end this way if I had anything to say about it. If this was his end, he wouldn’t meet it alone. Not while I was around.

  Seriously.

  I shifted my car into park, exited my vehicle and rushed to the officer as he collapsed to the ground. First, he dropped to his knees, and then fell forward and planted face first into the gravel. I reached his side and quickly realized he was way bigger than I had originally thought, as in really, really big.

  I was unable to figure out by looking where his gunshot wounds were. He wasn’t moving by the time I reached him. I knew he was still alive because he was groaning in pain. I laid my hand on his shoulders, and in the most soothing voice I could manage, said, “Hey there, big guy, my name is Sydney. I’m here to help. I have to turn you over so I can see where you were hit.”

  He groaned. I didn’t know if he was responding to me or if he was just groaning from the pain.

  There was blood everywhere, and it was very hard for me to get him turned over.

  Oh, Lord Almighty!

  “Please Lord, let me turn this boy over!” I grunted. This guy wasn’t just big, but heavy as all get out, too. Really freaking heavy! His equipment and vest didn’t help either; it was making it hard to get a good hold on him .

  Eventually, I ended up laying most of my body along his and rolling and tugging at him, as best I could until I got him rolled over. I had gravel, blood and road dirt all over me.

  “You’re going to have to buy me a new outfit man,” I tried for humor. Since it was just me, it fell flat.

  Once I finally got him to his back and was able to squirm out from underneath him, I saw that there was too much blood.

  More blood than I had ever seen in real life.

  “ Please. Please, let these be flesh wounds,” I prayed over and over, with all the faith I had in me, and some extra faith I was borrowing. From where I didn’t know, but this big guy was going to need it.

  Way too much blood spilled out onto the ground around us. There was so much, I didn’t know how he wasn’t already gone. I was covered in it; he was covered in it, and the ground was covered in it. The dark red liquid was everywhere.

  Hyped up on adrenaline, I said another prayer, and began the inspection process. Thank goodness for my headlights; I quickly located a wound on his upper arm that was bleeding, but not enough to justify the amount of blood he’d lost.

  I found another wound higher up on his shoulder where it met his arm, still not the real bleeder. Looking around I could see more blood had seeped from his body covering our area and he still wasn’t moving, even with poking his bullet wounds and all the activity I was putting his body through.

  And now, I realized he wasn’t groaning anymore either. I needed to step up my pace. He was running out of time.

  I broke out in a sweat, my heart rate picked up and I chanted prayers I didn’t even know I knew, or how I’d learned them, as my search became more frantic.

  I had no idea where all of this blood was coming from but was sure he was going to run out of it sooner than later. I’d gone over both arms, his neck, and head. Believing his vest had protected his torso, I moved my hands down to his hips and legs, and that’s where I discovered the deadly wound.

  I located it in his upper thigh near his crotch and it was spurting his blood out onto the ground at each beat of his heart. Literally purging his life from his body.

  “Bingo!” I yelled to no one, and let out a little hysterical laugh in celebration of finding the wound, but it was short-lived. I still needed to stop the
flow of blood before it was too late.

  I tried to rip his pants but wasn’t strong enough. I tried to find something close by to try and wrap around his upper thigh, but nothing was available, and anyway, the wound was too high up.

  Now, I was freaking out. I needed to do something significant. And I needed to do it soon. He wasn’t going to last until help arrived if I couldn’t find a way to slow down the bleeding.

  I went straight to the wound itself, knowing I had only a short amount of time left before all of his blood seeped from his body.

  Muttering to myself the entire time, I undid his fly, “Lord, please help me save this man,” and stuck my hands down his pants, “I’m so sorry to invade your privacy like this, but under the circumstances, it’s called for to try and stop the bleeding.”

  “Whoa,” I said under my breath; let’s just say this guy was not missing out in the family jewels department, whoever was fortunate enough to be his love interest should count herself lucky. Now, I just needed to make sure he lived to see her again.

  “You’re not making anyone lucky enough to have you a widow tonight,” I whispered, “Not if I can help it.”

  I quickly and as efficiently as I could, moved his genitals out of my way. I had to hold them back so I could feel around to find the wound. Not to say I spent any real-time moving his manhood around, but let’s just say time could be spent, under different circumstances. This man was gifted with much more than a handful.

  “Lord, I did not mean that last thought.” I did, but I didn’t want it to reflect badly on me with the Man upstairs.

  Shaking my head at myself, I would blame the lack of sleep later. I found the wound with my fingers and tried covering the giant hole with the palm of my hand, but the blood flow didn’t slow down at all. Not even a little bit.

  I looked around for something to pack into the wound, but other than packing it with gravel and road dirt, I was at a loss.

  The only way I could think to stop the bleeding was to literally stick my fingers in the wound and try to slow the blood flow, which I did, and it did.

 

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