Chapter 5: Good News, Bad News

It was late in the afternoon of the next day when Torres called. Rather than give him the news over the phone, she asked Adam (Errol) to come into her office the next morning.

They showed up a little before nine, and once again, he and Willie were escorted into the board room. Mrs. Torres was already seated at the table writing on a yellow pad.

"Good morning, Willie, Errol. You need to be using your real name from now on."

He glanced at Willie as they took their seats and agreed. "Yeah, we have been. What have you heard?"

She got right down to business. "First of all, I was able to speak to the investigating detective on the case. He confirmed your version of the events and said the boy, Benjamin Jackson, gave them a surprisingly detailed account. He also confirmed that the case was still open, but only because you haven't been located to make a statement. And you were right; they didn't have a clue who they were looking for.

"Next, I reached the DA's office and spoke to the Assistant DA who was assigned to the case. I told him that I was representing the person in question and asked if they were planning to pursue any kind of prosecution. He said they probably were not, but that the final decision would depend on what you said in a deposition. He asked if you and I would be willing to fly up to Ohio to have you deposed in his office. I said we would not, but that he would be more than welcome to come here to do it. He said he would, and that he'd await a call from me confirming the time and date.

"So now it's up to you, Errol. Are you willing to be deposed, with the probable outcome that this whole thing will be put to rest?"

"Is that what you recommend?"

"It is."

He considered the choices. "And there's no way he can come here, change his mind and haul me back to Ohio to stand trial?"

"No, that can't happen. If he wanted you back in Ohio, he'd have to have you arrested by local authorities and held for extradition. He doesn't know who you are, so he wouldn't have any way of having you detained. Besides, I don't believe our courts would hold still for that kind of deception."

"Okay, I'm in. When do you want to do the deposition?"

"If you're agreeable, I'll set it for next Friday at eleven AM in this office."

"Works for me. I really appreciate your taking care of this, Mrs. Torres. I've lost a lot of sleep over the last year worrying about it." He leaned forward and added, "Um can you tell me how much all this is gonna cost me?"

She smiled. "Relax, Errol. I'm doing this case pro bono, although I will keep the ten-dollar retainer fee. Let's just say it's my way of thanking you for what you did for Benjamin Jackson."

"Wow! Thanks a lot, Mrs. Torres! But I'm pretty sure anybody would have done the same."

"You mean following the kid into the bushes to make sure he was okay? I'm pretty sure you're wrong, but then, maybe I'm just an old cynic." She stood up to end the meeting. "We'll meet Friday morning at nine to prepare you for the deposition. See you then, Errol."

Out in the parking lot walking toward the Highlander, Willie poked him in the ribs with her elbow. "See? Didn't I tell you? You just have to know the right people."

"Yes, you were right. Thanks for insisting on calling her. Jeez, I can't believe she's doing this for nothing."

"Well you deserve it! You're an honest-to-god hero, Adam - er, Errol."

He stopped and held her arm. "Look, no more of this hero talk, okay? I saw a guy doing something really ugly and I lost my temper. I'm not happy I killed him. It just happened. Now I'd just like to get on with my life."

She didn't argue. "Sure, whatever you say. Errol." She kissed him on the cheek and mused, "I think I like your real name better than Adam. I mean, Adam is okay, but it's not you. On the other hand, with a name like Errol Lars Hansen, you should be a six-foot-four blond Adonis."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not growing another four inches and I'm not bleaching my hair."

She gave his butt a little squeeze and laughed, "Ooo, you're more than enough for this girl. What say we pick up a bottle of champagne on the way home and drink a toast to your freedom. Then I plan to rip your clothes off and do naughty things to your body."

She unlocked the Highlander with the remote. As Errol slid into the passenger seat, he said, "I'm all for some champagne and a game of hide-the-weenie, but I'm not counting it as a celebration until the deposition's over and the man officially says the case is closed."

"Right! Then we'll celebrate all over again with another bottle of champagne and another wrestling match ... not that I really need any excuse to get you hard and inside me. So, when this guy officially says you're off the hook, I guess that means your need to drift around the country like a lost soul goes away too."

He just shrugged. He didn't really want to get into that issue. It wouldn't have been politic or wise to point out that his drifting preceded his legal woes. His itchy foot problem wasn't likely to be erased by his exoneration.

Errol found the deposition a little intimidating, but it went as well as he could have hoped. Willie dropped him off in front of the law office and headed for the mall to do some shopping. In spite of having been raised in an atmosphere of conspicuous wealth, having nearly unlimited resources of her own was a new experience, and her checkbook was burning a hole in her pocket.

Errol and Mrs. Torres spent an hour and a half going over exactly what he would say to the DA's questions, as well as what he wouldn't say. If he had any concern about a particular point, he was to look to her for clarification. It was a legal procedure, after all, and anything he said under oath could have legal consequences. He didn't want to blurt out anything stupid.

The Assistant DA was pleasant enough, shaking Errol's hand when they were introduced. His name was James Evangelisti. Somehow, probably because of the potential threat implied, Errol was carrying a mental image of someone large and imposing. Mr. Evangelisti was just the opposite; short, no more than five-six, and slight of build. But his small stature didn't hinder his commanding presence once the oath was administered by the court reporter and the deposition was underway.

He asked Errol to give him a narration of the events that took place in the park. Errol had been instructed by Mrs. Torres to be clear, concise, and truthful, but not to volunteer any information that wasn't specifically asked for. Above all, to take some time to THINK before answering any questions.

The story took less than ten minutes; Evangelisti's follow-up questions took forty-five. He required that Errol explain in the finest detail every step, from seeing the boy looking like he was being coaxed into the bushes, to his decision to leave the scene and head out across the country. He repeatedly checked Errol's account against a transcript of Benjamin Jackson's.

When the man finally ran out of questions, he tossed his legal pad into his briefcase, stuck his pen in his shirt pocket and turned to the court reporter. "The rest of this will be off the record, ma'am. You have the address to send the transcript?"

"Yes sir. It'll be in the mail this afternoon." The reporter packed up her gear and left the room.

As he stood to leave, he said, "You were certainly well coached, Mr. Hansen. You didn't make a single error. Since the boy's assailant died during the commission of a very serious crime, we don't feel justice would be served by dragging this out any further. I can tell you now that my office won't be pursuing any legal action against you, although we could. You're to be commended for coming to the young boy's aid, but you did commit a crime by leaving the scene. It cost a lot of man-hours to try to put together exactly what happened, and that cost a lot of tax-payer dollars. However, given the vagaries of the law, I can certainly understand your reluctance to face an uncertain future. The state of Ohio will be happy to put this case to rest. No doubt, you will too."

Turning to Errol's lawyer, he added, "It's been a pleasure working with you, Mrs. Torres. This young man is in your debt. Good day to you both."

He left the room. Errol Hansen and Margareta Torres smiled at each other, then he stood to shake her hand and asked, "Could I take you to lunch?"

"Thank you, but no. I have another appointment in a few minutes. I will accept an invitation to dinner at Willie's house sometime soon, though. I have it on good authority that you're quite an accomplished chef."

"If you have a favorite dish, just let me know. I'll have Willie call you and set the date. Thank you so much for bailing me out of this mess. You've taken a huge weight off my shoulders."

"You're more than welcome, Errol. It's what I do. See you soon."

Willie was waiting for him in the reception area. As their eyes met, he gave her a thumbs-up. She jumped out of her chair with a little squeal of delight and threw her arms around his neck, smothering him with kisses.

As they left the office arm in arm, she said, "I know a very nice restaurant across town that cooks up the best steaks you've ever tasted. We'll start our celebration there, then just see where it goes." She giggled, "As if there was any question about where it will go." She snuck her hand down and rubbed his package.

He brushed it away, whispering loudly, "Can it, Willie! Jeez, we're in public!"

When they left the restaurant after an outstanding meal, Willie was about half looped from drinking nearly a full bottle of wine. He'd had only half a glass, so he was the designated driver. She chatted away a mile a minute all the way home. Alcohol did that to her.

Errol thought she'd probably fall into bed for a nap, but he was wrong about that. They were no sooner in the front door than she was on him like bark on a tree. She dragged him over to the couch, pushed him down and straddled his hips. He just grinned as he lay there passively, waiting to see what she had in mind.