What a Fool Believes

by Carmen Green

  “I’m not under arrest. Why are you reading me my rights?” Gary said, wiggling and bouncing in his chair.

  “As I said, anything you say could be used against you in a court of law.”

  “To hell with that. I didn’t create this situation, but I’m damn sure going to finish it. Ah! Ah! Ahhh!” Gary yelped as bugs devoured him. As Byron struggled to see what more was happening, he realized Gary didn’t have any bottoms on, and his privates had been smeared with honey and whipped cream. It was like a mosquito convention was in town.

  Byron gave the women ten points for originality. The rescue squad from Ladder Company 15 arrived, along with the paramedics and a police squad car.

  This was going to be funny for a long time.

  “I need to scratch. I need to scratch,” Gary blubbered. “Please scratch me.”

  Byron just shook his head. This was hilarious.

  “The rescue squad is on its way down. It’ll be just a minute more.”

  “Please scratch my nipples. I beg of you,” Gary whined.

  “Dude, you’d be better off asking God to kill you. Now, you should be quiet before they get into your mouth.”

  Gary’s mouth clamped closed just as a commotion ensued behind Byron.

  Byron hoped and prayed it wasn’t what he thought, but when he turned around, all he could do was shake his head.

  An officer had Tia by the arm and was escorting her through the damp earth toward him.

  Byron stepped back as the paramedics had a good laugh. One even took a picture before they began to attend to Gary.

  “Officer Rivers, do you know this woman?” the uniformed cop asked.

  “No, he doesn’t,” Tia answered.

  “Yes, she’s my—”

  “I’m a reporter, and I’m covering a story,” Tia answered.

  “She’s my girlfriend,” said Byron.

  “You do or don’t know him?” the officer asked Tia.

  “I do know Byron.”

  “In that case, you both need to come down to the station, make a statement, and be questioned by the captain before this is a done deal. Do you know the victim?” the officer asked Tia.

  Byron looked at Tia, sending her a silent warning, but she seemed hell-bent on doing things her way.

  “Indirectly,” Tia answered.

  Gary was being driven by on a stretcher and saw Tia. “She’s one of those angry women who did this to me. I want her arrested.”

  Tia put her hands behind her back. She knew the drill.

  “I have the right to remain silent ...” she began.

  Byron snagged her arm. “She was at my house, in my bed. And that’s where she’s going. I’ll make all the statements that need to be made. Tia, let’s go.”

  Byron escorted Tia to her car, then gave her the key to his house. “The way I left you is the way I hope you’ll be when I get home.”

  She looked up and smiled at him. “Definitely, with one addition.”

  Byron leaned his forearms on the roof. “What’s that?”

  “I’m going to pick up some honey.”

  He rapped on the roof of the car with his knuckles. That was a hell of a good idea. “Affirmative. See you in a couple hours.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Judge Dunn looked at Tia and smiled. “I knew we’d meet again. I see that your ex continues to be a thorn in your side. I understand that he rented out the house before my ruling. Why wasn’t this brought to me sooner?”

  Judge Dunn looked at the various officials in his chambers, and no one replied. Byron and another deputy stood in the back of the room, while the clerk taking dictation sat off to the side.

  Tia and Rusty sat facing the judge’s desk.

  “This is ridiculous,” Judge Dunn exclaimed after reading pages of documents Tia had submitted, proving ownership of the condo. “Where have you been living?”

  “With ... people. Friends,” Tia answered. “I had to sell some personal property to raise the money to get an attorney, who got me an appointment for today.”

  “Why didn’t you call my office?”

  “I did. I was told it would take months to get on your calendar. I didn’t know what else to do. I went to the condo with Officer Rivers, but when we were presented with the lease, I was told I’d have to wait for a new ruling from you.”

  Judge Dunn stared down Rusty Cavitt. “How much are appointments going for with you, Rusty?”

  “That ain’t why we’re here, Judge Dunn.”

  “How much did you charge Ms. Amberson?”

  “Seventy-five hundred dollars. I was led to believe there were extenuating circumstances.”

  The judge whistled. “That would make you the most expensive attorney in the world, right? Georgia sure is blessed that you decided to open your office here in our fair state, with your correspondence law degree, huh, Rusty?”

  Tia glared at her attorney. “You never told me that.”

  “You never asked, Ms. Amberson,” Rusty drawled back.

  “How much is an hour of your time, Mr. Cavitt?” Tia asked.

  Rusty shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “One hundred seventy-five dollars.”

  Tia glanced at her watch, then at the judge. “We’ve got four minutes. Then I’m in for three hundred fifty dollars. Can we make this snappy?”

  “You betcha,” said Judge Dunn.

  “When can she get her house back, Judge?” Rusty asked.

  “Today.”

  Tia wanted to spring from her seat, but she held on to her skirt as the judge gave Rusty a down-the-nose glare.

  “The tenant is ordered to vacate immediately. Her property is to be put in a truck, and she can drive it to the destination of her choice within fifty miles of Atlanta. Notify the sheriff of this emergency eviction. Officer Delta, you are hereby assigned to make sure Ms. Amberson gets into her home. Officer Rivers, you are dismissed from this case.”

  The judge stacked the papers, shaking his head, then continued.

  “Let me say that this is a troubling travesty of justice. You all have failed Ms. Amberson, from members of my staff, who I will personally deal with, to you, Officer Rivers.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, I tried to reach you, and you were out of town,” said Byron.

  “Then you should have camped out on my doorstep until you got me and until the directive I’d given you weeks ago had been fulfilled. She has been homeless, arrested, shamed, and from the looks of things, nearly fired. Then she has to sell property to hire a price-gouging attorney. Ridiculous! I have failed you, too, Ms. Amberson, and on behalf of this entire justice system, I extend my heartfelt apology. Is there anything else I can do for you, Ms. Amberson?”

  “No, sir.” The lump in Tia’s throat made it impossible for her to speak.

  “Ms. Amberson, I want verbal confirmation to this number, my cell phone, when you have been installed in your home. Officer Rivers, I want verbal confirmation from you that the locks at Ms. Amberson’s premises have been changed, at the police department’s expense, and that you have driven out of this young woman’s life.” The judge handed a card to Byron. “Officer Delta, you are to notify me if the slightest order isn’t followed. Clear?” he asked the severe-looking officer.

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Rusty, dig out your checkbook,” Judge Dunn continued. “You are refunding this young lady all but one hundred seventy-five dollars of her money, or I will not support your fund-raiser for aging cowboys.”

  “That’s extortion!” Rusty complained.

  “Theft by manipulation is what I call it,” Judge Dunn answered. “Ms. Amberson, do you have anything else for Mr. Cavitt?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then it would behoove you to fire him now.”

  Tia looked her attorney in the eye. “You’re fired.”

  “Anything for anyone else in this room?” the judge asked. Tia didn’t look at Byron. He could have done more, and he hadn’t. He’d wanted to play rescuer, and she’
d fallen right into his trap by needing so badly to be rescued. She’d learned to stand on her own two feet. And for the first time since her breakup with Dante, she’d be standing alone.

  “No,” Tia said. “Nothing.”

  “Officer Delta, please escort Ms. Amberson home.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Tia walked into work, feeling lighter than she’d felt in months. She’d been in her condo for two days, and in that length of time, she grown to love the place.

  It needed painting and other cosmetic fixes, but she was finally there. In her own home.

  She pushed the empty brown box under her arm, trying not to think about the twenty-five resumes she’d sent out this morning.

  Mixed emotions about quitting her job warred inside of her, but after all the thought and reminiscing, the conclusion remained the same. This was the right thing to do.

  Tia’s coworkers had begun to trickle in, but she ignored them as she stood outside her cubicle looking in.

  Five years of her life had been spent in this little box. She’d seen new people come and go, bright and talented people move up and onward. Now it was her turn.

  “I see you’ve decided to grace us with your presence. How bold of you,” Chance said from behind Tia.

  Calm for the first time since she’d been put on the action plan, Tia turned to her boss.

  “You’re a tyrant with a God complex. An evil little person who let power go to her head, except you’re powerless over me. All you’ve done is harass, antagonize, and treat me unfairly. And I want you to know, I don’t have to take it anymore. I’m filing a lawsuit against you. I’m tired of being your bitch. Now if you will excuse me, I’m taking the rest of my earned vacation.”

  “All vacation has to be approved by me at least two weeks in advance. If you leave, I will consider it desertion of your job. Thank you,” Chance said, with an elated smile. “You still aren’t bright. You were almost home free, and then I’d have had to pick on someone else. Idiot,” she said under her breath.

  No, she didn’t call me an idiot. Before Tia could think twice, she shoved Chance in the back, sending her flying onto the carpet. People poured out of their cubes at her screams.

  Chance struggled to get up as change poured from her pockets. Looking horrified, she scrambled to pick up the coins. She stopped at shiny black shoes.

  “Chance, what are you doing?” her father asked.

  “Firing Tia. She just assaulted me. Call 911.”

  Nobody moved. Tia held her breath as the Normans made their way down to where she stood.

  “Sweetheart, are you okay?” Mrs. Norman asked.

  “I’m fine,” Tia said, wiping hair from her eyes. She realized then that she was crying. She turned around and continued throwing things into her nearly full box. “I’ve just had it. The pressure is too much. Thank you, Mr. Norman. Mrs. Norman, I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I quit.”

  “Good, you were fired, anyway,” Chance sniped.

  “Wait,” Mrs. Norman said, waving her hands to calm everyone down. “Winton and I have something to say. We’ve heard rumors about people’s belongings going missing. We have received written complaints and anonymous phone calls about the unhappiness of the staff because someone has been stealing from them.

  “Well, Winton and I aren’t ones to turn our backs on situations, so we had some security cameras installed. I’m sorry to say that we know who the culprit is.”

  “Tia,” Alison said loud and clear. “I’ll call her boyfriend. He’ll have to do his duty as a cop and arrest her. I’ll also notify the news crew so they can get a shot of her handcuffed. It looks good if we can ‘out’ one of our own.”

  “Alison, you’re fired,” Mrs. Norman said, looking disgusted. “People are going to think you were sexually abused, the way you keep saying that C word for cumulus on TV. Every time I hear it, I swear, all of my blood vessels want to burst.”

  “It’s me, Mrs. Norman, Alison.” She dragged out her own name. “I didn’t do anything wrong. That’s Tia. She’s the screwup.”

  “Somebody, please get her away from me,” said Mrs. Norman.

  Two of the male interns urged Alison toward the elevator, put her inside, and made sure the door was closed before returning to the action.

  “Mrs. Norman, I didn’t steal the money, but this is exactly what I was talking about,” Tia interjected. “This isn’t a professional work environment anymore. I’ve worked my butt off for this station, and all Chance can remember is the one time I, in the heat of passion, made one big mistake.”

  Tia threw up her hands. “I know how to take responsibility for my actions. What I did was wrong, but this is more wrong.”

  “Like you would know,” Chance muttered, tapping her foot impatiently.

  “Enough.” Mr. Norman stepped forward. “Chance, do you want to tell your coworkers anything?”

  “They’re not my coworkers. They’re my employees.”

  “Last opportunity, darling,” Mrs. Norman urged her daughter.

  Tia wondered what was going on but decided against getting involved in anyone else’s junk. Her business was in the cubicle, and she decided to hurry things along.

  She had another call to make.

  “I have done nothing wrong,” Chance snorted. “I can spot-check desks.”

  “Occasionally, yes, but you stole from them,” Mr. Norman said. “Even this morning.” The elevator opened, but all eyes were on the screens stationed around the room. The digital picture showed Chance going from one office to another, helping herself to whatever she could find. In one week, not only had she stolen money, but she’d eaten three of Vic’s candy bars.

  “This had been going on for about four months, and it’s time it stopped,” Mr. Norman said in a resigned tone.

  Angry glares were directed at Chance, who looked uncomfortable now that she was busted.

  “I wasn’t stealing. I borrowed a quarter. Who’s going to miss twenty-five cents? You’re that stingy?” Chance said to the angry faces that stared at her. “You’re all cheap. Fine. I’m sorry. Now get back to work. Everybody except Tia. She’s leaving.”

  “Don’t speak to her like that again.”

  Rhonda/Ronnie walked from the direction of the stairwell, and Tia couldn’t help but wonder what was next. Her mouth fell open.

  Gone were his tight leather pants and pink shirt. He’d exchanged them for a black Hugo Boss suit and tie. He came and stood beside Tia. “Chance, you’re fired.”

  “Please,” Chance snorted in disbelief. “You can’t fire me. I’m the boss.”

  “Not anymore. We had a meeting, and two-thirds agree. We love you, and we know you’re gambling again.”

  “Ronnie,” Tia said. “Don’t.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie, but my sister was about to destroy this company. We have to confront this. Chance, if you want help, we’ll help you fight this gambling addiction. That’s why you’ve been stealing money. That’s why you tried to fire Tia. You wanted to replace her with your bookie’s niece. Then you wouldn’t have had to pay any more money. But Tia didn’t leave like a good girl.”

  “Ronnie, what are you doing?” Chance asked, her voice pleading, as her gaze darted around the room. “Tia is a terrible weatherwoman. She doesn’t have the look that people want to see.”

  “If you think all they want to see is someone that’s dumb and blond, you don’t give the public much credit, but that’s okay. I’ve got better things to do with my life than waste it here,” Tia retorted. The smattering of applause left her feeling not so lonely. She started for the elevator, saying good-bye to the few people who were brave enough to apologize. With each step, she felt better.

  Ronnie caught up to her and stepped inside the elevator just before the doors closed. “We’ll give you a promotion and a five-thousand-dollar increase.”

  “No, thanks, sweetie. I love your suit. Congratulations, by the way. You look amazing.”

  “Tia, we need you.
You’re what we want. And with Chance gone for good, we can turn this station into something Atlanta viewers will be proud of for years to come. I can go higher. Five-thousand signing bonus, and another five-thousand raise.”

  Tia regarded Rhonda/Ronnie, not acknowledging how sweet the deal was. “I need to make this change and see what I’m made of.”

  “I’m not here to make it easy for you to leave. Twenty thousand, and three weeks vacation.”

  The eleveator door opened on the first floor, and Tia stepped out.

  She saw the squad car through the glass of the revolving doors, and her heart raced. She hadn’t seen or heard from Byron since she’d left Judge Dunn’s chambers on Monday.

  Seeing his car made her salivate. She looked over her shoulder at Rhonda/Ronnie. “Wall office with a door, twenty-five-thousand raise. Seventy-five hundred signing bonus, separate and apart from the salary. Four weeks vacation a year.”

  “Deal,” Ronnie said.

  “And I want a lead slot.”

  Rhonda/Ronnie looked positively shocked. “I can’t promise that. We’re going to reshuffle, but—”

  “Talk to Ben, and get back to me. What he has to say might surprise you.”

  Tia hurried out the door and felt crushing disappointment. The squad car didn’t belong to Byron.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Byron walked back into the squad room as a detective and felt nothing but pride. He’d paid his dues, and his hard work had paid off. He was finally, officially, a detective.

  Heading to his old desk, he noticed Heather, the squad secretary, flapping papers to get his attention. “Detective, you have a guest.”

  “Heather, you can call me Byron.”

  “No, I can’t,” she said in a low voice as she turned him around and walked him away from her desk. “I’m training a new assistant, and she looks like she wants to make a couple of you a meal, if you know what I mean. From now on, you’re Detective, and I’m Heather, and she’s Ms. Ross, okay?”

  Byron nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Where’s my guest?”

  “She’s in conference room one.”