Santa's Special Delivery
Chapter 13

Copyright© 2010 by Lubrican

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 13 - Bob was a cop, but his hobby was playing Santa every year to find a family that deserved a little help. Then he and his friends helped them. This year, though, things went wrong during the delivery, and Santa suddenly had to go back to being a cop. In the process, Santa got a present too.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Reluctant   Pregnancy   Slow  

I thought about going over to the place Eva worked for lunch, but she had said she'd call. I didn't want to push things, which could push her away. She'd already had one bad experience with a pushy guy. So I went back to the office and did some work until it was time to go see what Judge Pickett had decided to do.

The court room looked the same. Wally's case hadn't generated much interest. The judge's whiskered friend was there, but he appeared to be dozing.

At two sharp a bailiff brought Wally in. He was in shackles, which I approved of. There was no jury to get the wrong idea from the restraints. Wally sat down, looked around at me and sneered. Two or three minutes later The Ghost showed up. Denny was with him. They acted like they didn't know each other as they walked down, entered the bar and took their seats.

Five minutes later Pickett came out of his chambers. He had one piece of paper in his hands. We all rose and he sat down and looked at Wally.

"Does the accused have anything to say before judgment is passed?" he asked.

Wally stood up. "Your Honor, I know this looks bad for a man who has made so many mistakes in his life, but the truth is that I turned my life around in prison, and had only the best of intentions. I made the mistake of drinking, and violating my parole, but I had no ill will towards anyone I met that night." He sat down.

The judge looked down at his paper and then began speaking.

"Mr. Gardner, after hearing the testimony of the witnesses, and reviewing the evidence presented during trial, I find you guilty of attempted murder in the second degree, regarding Detective Robert Carson, a duly appointed officer of the law in the commission of his duties at the time of the offense. I find you guilty of assault against Mrs. Janice Quimby, and the attempt to steal her purse by force. I find you guilty of assault against Ms. Deborah Little, and the attempt to steal her purse by force. I find you guilty of assault against Mrs. Jennifer Hopkins, and the attempt to steal her purse. I find you guilty of aggravated assault against Lawrence Hopkins, during your assault against his wife. I find you not guilty of violation of your parole, by virtue of the fact that there was no evidence of the presence of alcohol in your system at the time of arrest. And finally, Mr. Gardner, I find you guilty of resisting arrest."

He looked up at Gardner, who looked a little green. Then he went on.

"I have obtained certain information you need to be made aware of, as I have used it to determine sentencing, and it pertains to your future. Please listen carefully. You too, Mr. Buckridge.

"I obtained the phone and mail logs from your previous residential complex, which show that you did not mail any letters to Eva Sinderson, nor to the address where you were arrested by Detective Carson. You neither made, nor received any phone calls from Ms. Sinderson. The visitor's log shows you had only one visitor in prison during the last year, a female who was not Ms. Sinderson. What that tells me is that you lied under oath in my courtroom.

"I looked into your training records at the prison. There is no evidence whatsoever to support your claim - under oath - that you participated in self-help programs, nor did you take advantage of any educational or vocational opportunities. What that tells me is that you lied about that under oath as well.

"I talked to the warden about your so-called good behavior. He said your sentence was reduced and parole initiated because of a court-ordered resolution of overcrowding in the facility, and that it had nothing whatsoever to do with your behavior. He said he, himself, informed you of your good fortune, and suggested that you change your ways to avoid coming back to prison. Another lie under oath, Mr. Gardner.

"And so, Mr. Gardner, when I reviewed other things you claim to be true, I find I have no confidence in them. I do, however, have confidence in the testimony of the other witnesses in this case. And based on that, here is your sentence:

"As to the attempted second degree murder of a police officer in the commission of his duties, I sentence you to thirty-five years in the State penitentiary, without provision for parole.

"As to the three counts of assault with the intent to steal property, commonly called mugging, I sentence you to two years each for those offenses, said sentences to run consecutively, rather than concurrently.

"As to the aggravated assault of Mr. Hopkins, I sentence you to five years, without provision for parole, the sentence to run consecutively to all other punishment, rather than concurrently.

"As to the offence of resisting arrest, I sentence you to time served.

"And finally, I find you guilty of perjury in my court. You understood your right to remain silent, and gave that up voluntarily. You have the right to defend yourself, but not to lie, Mr. Gardner. I sentence you to one year in prison for that offense. Time served will not be considered as counting toward that sentence."

He finally looked up at Wally and Casper, both of whom were stunned.

"Mr. Gardner, you are a career criminal, who has no regard for his fellow man. In the space of four hours after you were released from the cage you should have still been in, you terrorized, traumatized and victimized a minimum of nine law abiding citizens. You tried to kill Santa Claus in front of a seven year old little boy! You are a pox on society, Mr. Gardner. It is for that reason I have given you the maximum sentence allowed by law on all charges. Bailiff ... take him away.


Wally, foaming at the mouth and cursing a blue streak, had been dragged from the courtroom by two bailiffs. Casper stood up.

"I'll appeal, Judge. You know that. You wouldn't let me cross examine a witness, a witness who was too young to testify, and who was obviously tainted by his relationship with Detective Carson. The punishment doesn't fit the crime and you know it. I'm sorry, Judge, but I will appeal."

"You file your appeal," said Pickett. "Get a new trial. With the additional evidence that now exists, your client will get convicted of attempted first degree murder as well as a premeditated home invasion with intent to maim or kill the occupants of the residence. He'll get life instead of the paltry forty-seven years I was able to give him. Your client gamed you, counselor. Routine research on your part would have gotten you the same information I asked for during my deliberations. If you'd have had that routine information, you wouldn't look like an idiot now. You let your client game you. He tried to game me too, but I didn't let him. If you file an appeal, you'll win, but you'll also put your client away for life. I hope you do appeal, so that son of a bitch can be put away forever."

"What additional evidence?" asked Casper.

Pickett smiled. "I guess you'll find out during discovery at your client's next trial, counselor.

Casper, knowing he was beating his head against a brick wall, turned on his heel and left. Pickett turned to leave too and saw me.

"I assume you'll tell the young lady the results?"

"Yes sir," I said.

"Good. Tell her that her little boy won't have to worry about him any longer."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

"I asked a few questions about this Santa business, too," he said. "Where can I send a donation?"

I wrote Donna Rickenbacker's phone number on the back of a business card and gave it to him, explaining she was the volunteer treasurer of our unofficial organization. He nodded and headed for his chambers.


I called Eva that evening, and told her the outcome of the trial.

"That's good," she said, when I told her how long he'd be in prison before anyone even contemplated thinking about the possibility of giving some small thought to parole.

"So..." I said. "You want to go do something to celebrate?"

There was too long a pause.

"I'm tired," she said. "And Timothy's already in his PJs."

 
There is more of this chapter...
Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.