by Mia Moore
“But… I’m in jail!”
He smiled coldly. “Not for long. I’m going to kill this right now. We’ll decide if we’re going to sue the pants off this Podunk town after.”
She looked down at the table and sighed. She should have called Chris before she left. He’d been the only one who’d been actually kind to her in New York, helping her get a job, even if it was at his cousin’s. But she was so humiliated.
***
Escorted by the female officer and Michael she walked into the small courtroom. An elderly bald man sat elevated behind the judge’s bench at the end of the room. He glanced up once, his eyes flitting at her and Michael before turning back to where he wrote something before him.
Brie’s palms were sweaty, holding them clasped before her tummy as she walked to the desk on one side of the room. On the other side, sat a middle aged woman, also busy with paperwork. There weren’t many people other than police officers there. The rows of chairs behind the prosecutor and defense side were almost empty. The door at the back of the room opened and Rob appeared, his eyes narrow above the swollen pulp of his mouth. He strode up the aisle and sat behind the woman prosecutor.
Given Rob’s condition, would anyone believe her? Michael patted her hand and nodded. His face was confident, bordering on arrogance.
The judge looked up and nodded to the portly black man standing off to the side. He was dressed like a cop too.
“The court will now hear docket Four thirty-one. The Plaintiff Mr. Rob Morely alleging a felony assault from his wife, Mrs. Brie Morely.”
“Your Honor, the Prosecution requests that bail to denied pending the review of the Grand Jury. Mrs. Morely has friends in New York and poses a flight risk. I have here a medical report to offer into evidence, of the serious injuries to Mr. Morely.”
The judge watched Rob as the Bailiff approached to take the report from the Prosecutor and hand it to him. Brie glanced over at Rob. He was wearing his best puppy dog face.
Michael stood to his feet. “Your Honor, I move to have all charges dismissed. My client was acting in self defense of a sexual assault from her estranged husband.”
The judge glanced up from under bushy eyebrows. “Who are you?”
“I’m Michael Tremblant, your honor. I’m representing Mrs. Morely.”
The Judge managed a growing harrumph and looked over at the Prosecutor. Immediately, she was on her feet once more presenting the State’s case. “Your Honor, you have the Police Report and the Medical report regarding Mrs. Morley’s assault on her husband. I would like to call Rob Morely to the stand but I’m afraid he’s unable to speak due to the stitches in his mouth from the loss of his teeth.”
Michael turned to her with a derisive snort. “If anyone deserves to be charged it’s her husband. Mrs. Morely was only defending herself. Is this the way the law works in Munsford? A victim of sexual assault is charged and spends the night in jail?” He faced the judge. “I will be filing a civil suit on behalf of Mrs. Morely. We’ll sue the town for millions for her hardship. When this gets out to the press, Victim’s Rights groups will have a field day.”
The judge looked from Brie to Rob. For the first time he spoke. “Mrs. Morely, I’d like to hear your side of this.” He turned to the Bailiff. “Roger, swear her in.”
Brie stood and the Bailiff lumbered over, a Bible in his hand. He shoved it in front of her chest. “Place your hand on the Bible and raise your right hand.” Her breath froze in her chest, lip trembling but did as she was told.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“I do.”
The Bailiff stepped back and the Judge’s eyes pierced her with their intensity. “Mrs. Morely, were you sexually assaulted by your husband?”
“Yes. He tried to hold me in the car. There was no one around. I hit him and managed to get out. When I tried to get my suitcase from the back seat, he came up behind me and attacked me once more.”
He glanced over at the side of the room. “Bailiff. Please swear Rob Morely in.”
Brie could hardly believe her eyes as Rob brazenly stepped up beside the prosecutor and swore on the Bible.
The judge glared at her husband. “I understand that you’re unable to speak. My questions will require a nod yes or shake of the head, indicating no. Do you understand?”
Michael squeezed her hand as she watched Rob nod in consent.
“Is this true Mr. Morely that you restrained your wife and attempted to assault her?”
There was just the slightest bit of hesitation before he shook his head no.
“Your Honor, my client has bruises on her wrist, a torn blouse and bruises on her upper arm that refute what the Plaintiff is alleging.” Michael shook his head. “The victim here is Mrs. Morely.” He turned and looked over to where the two cops who arrested Brie were sitting. “She was victimized twice, your honor.”
“I’m confused, counselor,” said the judge. “This is a simple he said/she said situation and I’m considering dismissal.”
Mike shook his head and turned to the judge. “No sir, it’s more than that. I’d like to call one of the arresting officers if it please the court.”
The prosecutor leapt to her feet. “Your honor! This is a preliminary hearing, not a trial!”
“I’d like to enter other facts into the record, your honor.”
“Objection, your honor!” called the prosecutor.
The judge leaned over his desk at Michael. “This looks interesting. I’m curious. Call your witness, Mr. Tremblant.”
Michael turned and pointed at the older cop. “You,” was all he said.
The older cop’s face paled as he walked up to the witness stand and took the oath.
“What is your name, Officer?” asked Michael.
“Police Officer Daniel Pennington.”
“I see. Your friends call you Danny?”
“I suppose.”
“Do you know Mr. Morely personally?”
The cop dropped his head and shook it slowly from side to side. “No… not very well, anyway.”
“Would you consider Mr. Morely a friend, Officer?”
“Uhhh… no.”
“I see.” Michael stepped back. “How were you notified of this incident? I assume it was a radio run given you by your department’s dispatch? Is that correct?”
“Uhhh… no.” The cop ran his hand through his hair.
“Answer the question, please. How were you notified?”
“By phone.”
“Your cell phone?”
“Yes.”
“I see. Who phoned you?”
“Mister Morely.”
“Oh. Mr. Morely has your personal phone number?”
“Yes.”
“But you just said you’re not friends!” Michael turned to the judge. “Something’s starting to smell here.”
“Continue, counselor. I’m fascinated.”
“Then you’re going to love the next part, your honor.” He took out his memo pad. “So, Officer Pennington, your friend Rob Morely phoned you and told you about what happened to him and where Mrs. Morely was staying, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so now we’ve established you two guys are pals. Great.” Holding his note pad in front of him, he said, “Is it a crime for a man to fondle a woman’s breast, Officer?”
“I was frisking her in accordance to procedures!”
“Is pinching a woman’s nipple part of your training too?” Michael snapped his notepad closed and turned to the judge. “He’s a proven liar, your honor. My client wishes to leave Munsford. As well as being an attorney, I am the chief of staff for the Mayor of New York City.” He took out his cell phone. “If my client spends more than five more minutes in custody, by all that is holy I am going to begin to make phone calls. A lot of phone calls. If my client spends another night in custody, tomorrow morning I am going to bring righteous wrath down on this town and file lawsuits with nothing
but the bankrupting of this town as my goal. And I will have TV trucks lining the street of this courthouse.”
“Settle down, Mr. Tremblant,” the judge said. He looked over to the woman at the District Attorney’s table. “Ms. Carson?”
“The People are…” she stared at Officer Pennington. “The People are disgusted right now and are withdrawing all charges, your honor.”
“Thank you Ms. Carson.” He tapped his gavel. “Case dismissed.” He leaned over to Pennington. “Go get all of Mrs. Morely’s belongings and bring them right here, Officer. Right now!”
Pennington scuttled out of the courtroom.
The judge stood. “Mrs. Morely, on behalf of the town of Munsford, I humbly apologize for this miscarriage and ask your forgiveness.”
It was the first time in her life in this town that anyone, anyone at all said they were sorry. Her eyes filled with tears and she gasped, “Thank you, your honor.”
Chapter 10
It was almost nine o’clock that night when Brie entered Chris’s townhouse. He was at the door waiting for her. His grey eyes were narrow for a moment but then he sighed, stepped forward and took her into his beefy arms.
She hugged him back, tears streaming from her eyes onto his wool cardigan. Chris was the only person who’d ever treated her with care and worried over her. Even her parents hadn’t shown that degree of kindness, let alone love.
Michael brushed by leaving the two of them standing in the foyer. Finally, Chris broke the embrace and holding her two arms in his hands, leaned back and looked at her. This time there was no mistaking his anger.
“Brie. Why didn’t you call me? A phone call, after all that I’ve done for you. I was worried sick!”
“Chris, I couldn’t. I just wanted to get away from everything. Did you talk to Claire?” Her jaw set remembering the scene in the townhouse. Was that only a few days ago? It seemed like a lifetime.
He turned and wandered down the hallway to the kitchen where Michael stood at the counter fixing tea. Brie followed at his heels.
“Yes. I told her I didn’t buy it. There’s no way you’d steal from her. There had to be some mistake. Maybe the cleaners...” He took a seat at the table, leaned back and folded his hands over his tummy.
“There was no mistake. Martha took it from Claire’s jewelry box and put it in my night stand. She hated me from the day she set eyes on me.” Brie took a chair across the table from him. “I tried to tell you but—”
He held up his hand stopping her. “I know. If I’d thought that things would have got so bad at Claire’s I would have insisted you come back here. It’s just that Martha and Claire—”
“Yeah I know. I’ve heard it all before. Who would believe me over the word of the great doctor Whitney? She’s a scheming bitch. If I’d stayed, not even Michael’s skills could have helped me.” She turned and flashed a small smile at Michael who glanced over before continuing to pour tea into three big earthen mugs.
“He’s something else isn’t he?” Chris’s face beamed a look of adoration looking at Michael. “But Brie, probably the worst thing you could have done was run after that. If you’d come here, I would have talked to Claire and Alex. Tried to find some compromise.” He puffed air slowly through billowed cheeks.
“There’s no compromise to be had. I’m done there.” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest.
His jaw jut forward, his eyes piercing into hers. “That’s it? You’re just going to let it go. Not even speak to Claire and straighten it out?” He shook his head from side to side. “For God’s sake Brie. You’re innocent. You’ve got to defend yourself!”
She avoided his eyes, staying silent for a few minutes.
“Brie. If you just turtle about this, you’ll regret it. Even if they don’t believe you, at least you tried to clear your name. For your own self respect you’ve got to try.” He looked over at Michael, silently enlisting his support with his eyes.
“Chris is right. If you want, Chris and I’ll go with you while you talk to them. We’ll back you up, but you need to stand up. Stand up for yourself, Brie.”
Brie’s gut was a tight knot hard in her body. Easy for these two to tell her what to do. They were older, successful. What could a twenty-four year old woman say to people like this or Martha? Her eyes met Chris’s and her jaw clenched tight.
“Is this the last lesson in the Brie project? I won’t be fully complete unless I have it out with Martha and Claire? Sorry, I’m not sure your project feels like putting herself through that.”
Michael set the mugs in front of Brie and Chris and left the room.
Chris slapped the table with his hand. “God damn it Brie! You’re not a project! You’re a good person and my friend. And furthermore, it’s my business if I want to help people out. I don’t consider them projects, they’re people.”
“Martha called them projects.” Her voice mimicked Martha’s haughty tone.
“She’s a self righteous snob. But what does that matter to you? She beat you down. You ran....as usual.” He picked up the tea and took a long sip, looking at her over the rim.
She huffed a short sigh, glaring at him. “That’s not fair Chris. I was out numbered. You said it yourself, if I’d stayed I’d be in jail. Munsford was bad enough.”
He put his arm in front of his face. “Don’t knock my teeth out. You with all your Cro-Magnon skills.” He pulled a face, retreating back in his chair. But he couldn’t hold it very long. His lips twitched, then curled into a grin.
“Fuck you.” But Brie couldn’t help the grin that spread on her lips.
“Look. Stay the night. But in the morning I think you should visit Claire and Alex. I’ll set it up with them.”
Chapter 11
Brie pressed the button in the foyer of Ten Sullivan Street. Her body was a tight coil waiting silently. She’d had all night to prepare for this. Chris and Michael were right. If she didn’t defend herself, she’d always regret it. For a brief moment she wished she’d taken them up on their offer to go with her.
Claire’s face appeared in the small screen. She didn’t look too happy. “Come up.” Then she was gone and the door clicked, letting her know she could get in to the elevator.
Her finger shook as she pressed in the code to go to their penthouse. This was ridiculous. She was the victim, AGAIN, and she was nervous? She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders stepping into the elevator.
When the door opened, Claire stood waiting, her arms crossed tight over her chest. She was dressed in dark pants and a white tunic, the tennis bracelet sparkling on her wrist. “Let’s go into the Great Room to talk.” She turned and strode across the marble floor, her heels making sharp clicking sounds.
Brie’s fingers adjusted the collar of her blouse as once more she took a deep breath. She’d taken care dressing. She may not have the Bader’s money but her clothes were stylish and nice.
Her step faltered for a moment as she stepped through the door after Claire. Oh God. Martha stood leaning against the bar, while Alex stood behind it. He had his laptop on the bar’s surface and glanced up when she entered the room, then back to his screen. She was sorely outnumbered.
Martha stepped away from the bar, striding towards Claire. From the look of surprise on her pinched face, she hadn’t known that Brie would be visiting. “What the hell are YOU doing here? Come back to steal something else?”
Brie stood her ground. Her knees were shaking but she held her hands clasped behind her back, ready for anything Martha could say. “Martha. Oh excuse me for not using your title. Dr. Whitney, you know I didn’t steal that bracelet. You did. You put it in my night stand.”
Martha glanced at Claire and snorted before turning back to Brie. “You little liar. Why would I do such a stupid thing? I’m rather well off myself, you know. She held up her wrist. An identical bracelet to the one Claire was wearing adorned it. “Besides, I already have one. I wouldn’t steal from Claire and you give yourself FAR too much credit to
think I’d put it in your room. You’re nothing to me.”
Claire spoke up for the first time. “Brie. Why would you say that? That’s crazy.” Her forehead was knotted and her eyes were soft, shaking her head watching Brie.
Brie wouldn’t take her eyes off Claire. “I don’t know… but I have a gut feeling.”
“Well, you certainly have room there, dear,” Martha interjected. She strutted to the sofa and glided into it. “Come Claire, sit down, dear.” She patted the cushion next to her. “Let’s watch this performance.”
Claire turned, but before she could take another step, Alex said, “Hold on, honey. Let’s hear Brie out, okay?”
She turned to her husband with a quizzical look. Alex pointed to Brie, then Martha. “One’s telling the truth, and the other’s a liar. Let’s hear what she has to say.”
“Well!” Martha leapt out of her seat.
Alex’s voice got very low. “Martha, you’re in my home, and I would appreciate the respect of you keeping your seat.”
“You never liked me, Alex.” Her voice steel on flint.
“You may sit down, or you may leave Martha. Your decision.” He said it with a smile. A smile that was cold.
“You have some nerve.” She flopped back onto the sofa. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Alex turned to Brie. “You said you have a hunch. What is it?”
Brie’s eyes were fixed on Claire’s. “You were attracted to me from the very beginning…”
A sad expression flitted across Claire’s face and was gone. Without speaking she raised her eyebrows and gave a slight shrug.
“And when we had sex, it was fantastic for both of us, wasn’t it?”
Wordlessly, Claire responded with another little shrug.
“And then…” Brie’s voice hitched. “Then you said that you wanted me to be like a kid sister to you… someone you could guide.” Her voice was soft, but her eyes brimmed when she said, “And I believed you.”
