Jess stayed and headed into the courtroom. She sent me a text at 10:18 a.m., saying, “You’ve left by the time I got out. I talked to the prosecutor.”
I called her and said, “How dare you tell me I left by the time you got out even though you didn’t care enough to show up on time for something so important!”
She started trying to explain that her being late was my fault. I cut her off and said, “I don’t even want to talk to you,” and then I hung up on her. It was another example of the hundreds of her own failures she tried to blame on me and others.
Also in her text, she wrote, “I love you very much.” She called in the afternoon, but I ignored her calls. She then texted me, “I have important message to tell u…call me.” I called, but she only wanted to tell me about more squabbles and text messages between her and Laura and that she felt it was important for the DV case to show that Laura had lied and caused this.
I was in a very bad mood the entire day due to the pretrial outcome and Jess’s behavior. To add to it, for the last few days, Jess had been talking about putting ads out to sell the store inventory, but like all the times before, she did nothing. Late in the morning, I sent her an e-mail: “I need to see an ad for the inventory in this house tomorrow. No more excuses.”
I was very upset with all that had happened that day. Later in the afternoon, Jess said she was sorry for not showing up for the pretrial. She was calling me “sweetheart,” but I didn’t want to hear it.
I called Michael Vincent’s law firm and made an appointment to see them at 5:00 p.m., Thursday, September 11. I also called a few other firms. After I got home from work, Jess wanted to go with me and said we needed to do this together. I said no and told her the prosecutor might see this as me trying to manipulate her testimony. She still argued to go, but I would not listen. I told Jess that some firms said an extended trial could cost up to $15,000.
When I got home after work, Jess started up again about Jane; she said Jane had caused all the issues in Kansas, and Jess felt all my legal problems were the fault of “everyone else lying.” With the pretrial’s bad outcome, I couldn’t stand to look at her anymore or hear more of the same old victim crap she was spewing. Later on, at about 10:00 p.m., she brought up this old crap again. That was it. I told her the best thing that could happen for me was for her to just leave, go home to her family, never come back, and never have any contact with me. I really meant that. I shouldn’t have said it, because I didn’t want her to turn on me, but I couldn’t take her hateful, batshit-crazy behavior any longer.
To make it worse, Jess was still going back and forth with Laura about the same drama. Laura was again accusing Jess of telling the neighbors that Travis had hurt her and was very concerned that Jess was telling this lie to the prosecutor. The psycho never stops.
The next day, Tuesday, Jess replied to my e-mail about the inventory ad from the previous day; she ignored the ad and referred to when I was mad with her for being so late and missing the hearing. She wrote, “Again you got angry at me without finding out the truth, you allowed your anger to take over your good heart, which is devilish acts, possessed your heart.” She still thought that all these problems were not her fault and was putting the blame on me for getting mad.
After I got back home from work on Tuesday, I met with Steve and Katrina, Jess’s close friends, at the Corner Brewery in Ypsilanti. Steve had called me earlier in the day wanting to talk with me. I sure wished I could have one of their good craft beers, with Jack Hammer Old Ale being my favorite, but I couldn’t due to the bond conditions banning me from drinking alcohol.
They told me that a couple of months earlier, before the DV charge, they believed much of what Jess said about me to them. Steve said that, from the way Jess described me, I sounded like a horrible, controlling monster. They had told her she should leave me and file for divorce and said she could stay with them. But after a while, they both wondered why Jess would not file for divorce.
Steve said he could not understand why, if I was such a horrible person, Jess was still staying with me. He also said Jess would refer to me as “her better half,” and this was very contradictory. They started seeing large cracks and inconsistencies in her stories and began questioning her motives and wondering what the real truth was. Then the DV charge came. They could not understand why I had been arrested, because Jess told them she only wanted the police to talk to me because I wouldn’t talk to her that day. To them, it made no sense, and that was why they had reached out to me.
They were very concerned about my health, the way I was handling all the stress, and told me this should have never happened to me. They even said Jess was extremely upset about the whole situation. Jess claimed everything on the police report was a lie. They said Jess told them I had never hit her or been violent to her and that she never felt threatened by my behavior. This also made no sense to them, based on prior statements Jess had made, but they told me that, prior to my arrest, Jess said I had never threatened, hit, or pushed her.
They said Jess had been telling them that “everyone” was lying and she had done no wrong. They both assured me that they now knew this was not the case and that Jess couldn’t live in the truth. They said they felt that Jess was feeling the burden of guilt from her own lies and that it was causing her to act in this out-of-control behavior, with her in damage-control mode.
I told them she was doing anything to salvage her pride. Now that she realized how serious this DV charge was and what it would do to my and her life, I thought she would do anything, including telling more lies, to put the blame on others in order to try to get these charges dropped. She still wouldn’t tell the truth out of fear that she would get charged with making a false police report.
They felt that Jess purposefully kept me isolated from them so that any truth about my character and who I really was could be hidden and so that she could continue her victim routine to get hugs and pity from them.
I showed them the list of pills in her cabinet by the bed. They were shocked at the vast number and types of pills and said, “No wonder she has been acting this way.” I asked if they remembered my mom; they said of course, and then they described how wonderful a Christian woman she had been.
I showed them the letter from my mom describing how Jess had caused all the problems and chaos in Kansas. I went on to describe how Jess had been obsessed with rage ever since Kansas and told them what had really happened the day of my arrest. After seeing the letter from my mom that contradicted everything Jess had told them and knowing my mother would never have lied about this, they knew for sure that all the things Jess had told them about me and the family were lies. They were genuinely disturbed to learn the truth of all these events and felt very sorry for me.
I told them that Jess really felt she was right and everyone else was wrong, due to her controlling nature and pride. She refused to see the reality and consequences of her own actions, and this behavior had gotten far worse in the past few years. They said this made sense, but they also said that made it dangerous for me and harder to deal with. I told them Jess had probably said a lot of what was on the police report, but she wouldn’t admit it out of fear she might get arrested for making a false report.
I brought them up to speed on my DV case, Stan’s complete failure, and the October 3 date for jury selection for the trial. They were very upset hearing this, as it was just another hit I had to endure. I told them I had fired Stan’s “incompetent ass” and contacted Michael Vincent’s firm. I said I hoped the new attorney could get this dropped before it went to trial. If it went to trial, I would have to present all this evidence against Jess in court, and it would probably destroy her. I didn’t want that to happen. I didn’t want to cause her harm, but I wouldn’t allow myself to be convicted and go to jail because of her lies.
They both agreed that I had to do whatever it took to clear my name at this point, but they also wanted this case to be dropped so that Jess’s mental health could be salvaged.
They also agreed that a court case exposing all her lies and manipulations would push her over the edge, and she might never recover from it. Steve and Katrina were both genuinely sorry for believing Jess’s lies about me, and I could see the pain Jess’s betrayal caused them.
On Wednesday, I met with the counselor, Ann, for the second time. I told her about the bad outcome of the pretrial and showed her the e-mail I had sent to my attorney, Stan. I could tell she was not happy about the poor representation, and she said it was not right. I talked about what I had said to Jess about wanting her to leave, and then I showed her Jess’s e-mail stating that I should have not gotten angry. Ann even said that Jess had serious accountability problems and that my anger with everything that had happened on Monday was justified.
During our session, Jess sent me texts to call an attorney she had contacted to handle my DV case. I had already told Jess many times that multiple people had recommended I go with Michael Vincent and that I was meeting with him that Thursday. Jess wouldn’t stop telling me what to do. Her texts were for me to call Sam Berstein in Ypsilanti. (He’s not to be confused with the 800-call-Sam slip-and-fall personal injury lawyer who advertises in the metro Detroit area. It’s a different Sam Berstein.)
I sent Jess a text to “please stop,” but she still sent another one. When I got home, she continued badgering me about how I had to call Sam. She kept going back to the $15,000 that a trial could cost, but I told her I would talk to Michael and find out what the real cost could be. I also told her I would see what he said about the possibility of getting this dropped before trial. She still would not stop demanding I call Sam before Michael.
I told her to stop; I had this taken care of, and we had already discussed it multiple times. Jess was really starting to piss me off. Her reply was that she was only trying to help and that we had to do this together. I told her she was not helping and was only causing me more stress, but she still would not relent. She had a class at church, so she left for the evening but came back early due to a power outage and was very angry—she felt I was not listening to her. I did listen to her up to a point, but there was no way in hell I would consider or follow any of a crazy person’s suggestions.
Twelve
Phase Two of My Defense
Dad called me Thursday to talk about events that had happened at Monday’s pretrial hearing. He said Jess had called him after the pretrial to tell him her watch was wrong and that was why she’d been late. He knew she was lying; it was another one of her excuses, and he told me he “saw right through her bullshit.” I told Dad I’d left the house to get to the pretrial on time, but she had started doing all sorts of unrelated stuff at the last minute while she should be leaving. This was the same pattern she had followed for years that made her habitually late. She never changed her ways.
Dad said it was like she had two different personalities and couldn’t be trusted to tell the truth on anything. He also warned me that even though she’d said she would not testify against me in a trial, she could flip and say anything to make herself look good at my expense.
That evening after work on September 11, I saw Michael Vincent for the first time. It was a vastly more professional and competent experience than I’d had with Stan. He already had the police report and other documents about my case prepared and ready for review. I told him Steve and his sister had told me to get in touch with him about my case, and Michael briefly spoke fondly about them. Michael was a good friend of their dad.
Michael said he wanted to read the report before I spoke about the case. After only a few paragraphs, he said, “Bullshit,” loudly. He continued reading and was saying, “This is bullshit,” and “Bullshit,” multiple times. He looked up at me and asked, “You got arrested over cherries?” He could not believe it and said again, “This is bullshit.”
He read more and said multiple times the report was contradicting itself. He said the report stated that the cherries were in the trash in the Ziploc bag, but earlier in the report, it said I’d thrown the cherries at her from across the room and there were food splatters on the wall. He said, “This is bullshit,” again and asked sarcastically, “How could cherries be thrown across the room splattering the wall when the police saw the cherries in the trash still in the Ziploc bag?”
He said none of this made sense, and he was genuinely ticked off that this had been done to me. He also said that throughout his career, he had seen multiple times that police had shown extreme bias based on what one person said about an alleged assault. The police then looked for reasons and evidence to support their bias and wrote reports from this viewpoint while making completely wrong assumptions. This is how innocent people get thrown in jail and many times wrongfully convicted.
I gave him a brief rundown of how Jess had descended into a complete victim mentality and how she would not work and did pretty much nothing with her life except for watching TV, surfing the Internet, and shopping. I showed him the list of pills Jess was taking at the time, the letter from Mom detailing how she had caused the problems in Kansas, the letter from the gym when they’d kicked her out, and a few other things documenting her behavior.
Michael just shook his head, said he was very sorry this happened to me, and told me he would take the case. He assured me he would most likely be able to get these charges thrown out, but there still was the possibility it may go to trial. He planned to schedule an evidentiary hearing to review all my documentation with the judge and prosecutor. With all I had on Jess and the conflicting police report, Michael would ask the judge to dismiss the case, hoping the judge would agree. I asked about the cost, and he said there would be a $4,000 retainer. With $1,500 wasted with Stan, now there was an additional $4,000 out of my pocket.
I could see now why people hated cops, hated judges, hated prosecutors, and hated the court system. From my experience of being completely innocent, it was a well-deserved reputation. To top it all off, these people in the judicial process congratulated themselves, saying the system worked when someone was found innocent even though the victim of this legal abuse had his or her life destroyed. These innocents shouldn’t have been arrested in the first place.
I’m not anticop, and I know there is a need for law enforcement. I just don’t trust them after what I’ve been through. I’m sure that when Jess and Laura were telling their stories to the police, the two cops were convinced I was a horrible human being and were not looking to see both sides. They were looking for anything to support this contrived drama and justify an arrest. It didn’t help that Laura’s husband was one of their own. The cops’ attitude to me right from the beginning was hostile, and it was very clear that they were not interested in examining facts or evidence that would contradict the women’s statements.
Over the next few days, I exchanged calls and e-mails with Michael’s office manager, Amanda. She had me sign paperwork releasing Stan as my attorney. Another issue they were taking care of was my CPL suspension. The county gun board scheduled an interview about my suspension. Michael wrote them, stating, “We are requesting an adjournment regarding your request to interview Mr. Cole until this matter has been resolved. Mr. Cole is asserting his Fifth Amendment right to remain silent at this present time.”
It was an incredible difference: Michael’s firm was proactive and aggressive. Michael was like an aggressive pit bull fighting all-in for his clients, but Stan was a complacent nice guy. I learned a harsh lesson about having a nice guy represent me. Never again. If I ever get falsely charged again, I’ll search out the meanest, pit bull-type defense attorney I can find, who will do anything for me. Nice guys lose and get their clients convicted.
The next Friday, September 19, I poked around Jess’s laptop, looking for any other evidence I may have to use, and found some of Jess’s Facebook messages with her friend Churai from Thailand. Jess sent these messages on August 9, and they showed her contempt for my family.
Jess wrote, “mom cole is now brain dead and this damn family is going to disconne
ct the life support tomorrow afternoon.” She also wrote, “I want to protest, I wish that they give her a few more day to be certain.”
The next day, September 20, was Mom’s memorial service at her church. I’d spent the past two weeks making all the arrangements. Jess had no part of this, and I had not asked for any of her input. Dad was still an emotional mess from dealing with Mom’s death, so I had to be strong for him and take care of everything. Jane and I worded Mom’s bio, which was printed on the memorial service pamphlets. I also talked with Jane and suggested that, instead of arranging poster boards of pictures, I would scan a bunch of photos of Mom with family and friends and display the pictures on my HDTV. She thought this was a great idea. I found old photos of Mom as a child and of when Mom and Dad were married. All the pictures were put in a 1080p video file that looped to the beginning when it reached the end.
I left Friday evening to spend the night at Dad’s house. Jess did not come. She told me she felt very uncomfortable going. Good, I thought. I didn’t want her there and was sure nobody else did either, knowing the damage she had done to our family.
Saturday morning I set up my HDTV and laptop in the narthex at church, and started the playback. Everyone loved watching the pictures on a large HDTV, and many said that doing it this way was far more interesting than looking at small pictures on poster board.
After all the greetings were done, everyone went to the sanctuary for the service, which started at 11:00 a.m. The immediate family, including Mom’s brothers and sisters, gathered, and we stayed back while everyone else entered the sanctuary. The family was to enter at the beginning of the service with Dad carrying a wooden chest that held Mom’s ashes. Just before we were to start walking in, when he was going to pick up the chest, Dad started shaking. I looked at Dad and asked him if he wanted me to carry them. He nodded. Tears streamed down his face, and his voice was choking up. I took the chest, and everyone turned to us as we came in. I set the chest on a small table at the front of the aisle. The pastor said a few words, and then the service started.
Tales of the Crazy Page 17
