The Partnership aka Bad Deacon
Chapter 9

Copyright© 2017 by MysteryWriter

After almost a week Sarah got her second day in court. A judge vacated her charges and returned her bail to her mother. When he came to me with the results of his consult with the deputy district attorney, Melvin had been all smiles.

“She is free of the murder indictment and the District Attorney is going to decline to prosecute her for distribution of a controlled substance,” Melvin said.

“In exchange for Sarah agreeing not to file false arrest charges against anyone?” I asked in front of Sarah and her mother.

“That’s right. She couldn’t win on the false arrest claim anyway,” Melvin said.

“Melvin no offense, but that’s your opinion. I think she has a pretty good nuisance suit. They charged her and only after you and I proved her innocence did they drop the charges,” I said.

“Well we don’t have to decide right now,” Melvin said. “It’s up to Sarah anyway.”

“True she should get a second opinion,” I suggested.

“Did you ever meet with the Sheriff?” Melvin asked.

“Not yet,” I said. Sarah and her mother overheard that comment. “I wanted to wait until Sarah’s charges were vacated before I told him to fuck off.”

During the week of pure down time, Sarah, her mother, and I cleaned and reopened the store. I wasn’t sure how the publicity and gossip would effect her business. On the first day after the trial her business brisk. I stood guard in the store, just in case Allen’s supplier came for a visit.

The whole day was a huge waste of my time. Sarah had a good day, but for me it was a waste, not that I had anything else to do. Around 3PM the sheriff came calling.

“If the mountain won’t come to Mohammad then I’ll go to the mountain,” he said. “I understood about wanting to avoid the appearance of any impropriety, but that’s behind us.”

“Not entirely. I hear the DA is planning a plea bargain for Honest Abe. I have to sign off on it or I’m going to the press. If I do that I’ll bring Sarah’s treatment into the mix. I might even hint at a run for County Sheriff. I do meet the residency requirement.” I said with a smile.

“You do that and I’ll bury you,” the sheriff said smiling.

“Check with Honest Abe to see how that worked out for him,” I suggested with a bigger smile.

His face was red but he held it together. “What do you want,” he said.

“Well I don’t really want to be Sheriff that’s for damn sure. I haven’t decided what my next move will be. Before I sign off on a sweat heart deal for a man who tried to have me killed, I want to see the quid pro quo offer.

The sheriff left obviously not happy with the his messenger boy status. I expected the DA, one of his underlings, or Honest Abe’s mouthpiece to show up next. Since I needed to stay busy and I didn’t want to cut grass, I ran the store while Sarah cut grass. She was forced to do the labor then come back to the store to work the stock. I made sure she worked her ass off in return for me risking mine for her.

Three days of that and she was ready to strike a deal with me. I drove the truck and trailer to the store. Maxwell found his way to the store so Sarah didn’t have to go looking for him. She had obviously told him they were going to work the next day. Sarah got the store open, then prepared to work the lawn care business.

Before she walked out the door she said, “How about thinking about a more formal arrangement between us.”

“Why you owe me at least the next three years of your life,” I said smiling.

“You don’t have anything in writing,” she said.

“Is that how you really want to play this?” I asked.

Sarah turned and walked out the door with a simple, “Whatever.”

“Exactly,” I shouted after her and laughed.

Sarah might not know how to show her gratitude but Ester did. She came by the store and did a lunch run every day. I bought my own lunch, but she brought lunch to us all. I had salvaged a picnic table in fair shape for the back parking lot of the store. Sarah and Allen, before he got himself murdered, painted and restored the table.

If we weren’t busy we ate together. If the store was busy we staggered the dining order. After a week of all the togetherness Sarah was ready for a new arrangement. She waited until the store closed at 9pm before bringing it up again.

“Look Deacon you are part of the family almost. Why don’t we just all become a family. You could marry mom, or me for that matter,” she suggested seriously.

“You are out of your mind. Besides I have a lot of things going on right now,” I suggested.

“Okay alternative number two, you and I become partners in a business sense,” she stated flatly.

“I’m sure that makes sense to you, but it’s way too soon to be thinking that way,” I stated yet again.

“Look, either we make a deal or I’m finished with your lawn care business,” she said.

“Are you sure you want to give me an ultimatum?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Okay, good luck,” with that I left the ‘2ND chance store’. I wasn’t at all angry. I knew that would come later. I needed the lawn equipment to maintain my own property. I gave all my regular customer a two week window in which to find someone else.

During the two weeks the DA’s office called three times. They were taking heat from Abe’s lawyers to make the plea deal. I put them off just long enough to make them antsy. I set the appointment on my first free day after officially closing the lawn service.

At the time of my appointment the weather fit my mood. It was cloudy with a chance of rain. I didn’t bother to dress in anything better than jeans for the meeting with the DA himself.

“Thank you for finally showing,” the over weight man said.

“It’s the least I could do to see that Abraham is prosecuted to the full extent of the law,” I said.

“That isn’t always the best way to serve justice,” the DA said. “This is just a courtesy; showing you the plea bargain.

“In this case anything less than a full prosecution would be a crime in itself,” I said looking hard at him.

“Matthew, you haven’t thought this through. Regardless of how you feel we are going to make a plea deal with the defendant. I had hoped this could be done with everyone in agreement, but make no mistake it’s going to go through,” he said.

“Then it’s time for me to hold a press conference. I haven’t told my story yet. I’ve been holding off for the right time. This appears to be that time. Yours is an elected position isn’t it?” I asked.

“You can’t blackmail me,” he said.

“I didn’t say, if I didn’t get money I would go to the press. I simply said it’s time I talked to the press and gave them my opinion of how this whole thing was handled. Now I can add you threatening me,” I said removing the cell phone from my pocket. “It’s been running the whole time.”

The woman who had been waiting outside the DA’s office also represented honest Abe. A couple of minutes after I left the building she came running after me. She caught me in the plaza in front of the building. “Mr. Andrews can I buy you a cup of coffee?” she asked.

“Sure, but I propose we both leave our recording devices outside,” I said.

“Done,” she agreed.

We walked back to the coffee shop in the basement of the court house. I was seated at the table when she arrived with two coffee cups on a cardboard carrier. I nodded to acknowledge the coffee. She fussed with the coffee for a moment, then looked out the tiny window near the ceiling before she began.

“So Deacon, I can call you Deacon can’t I?” she asked.

I smiled and nodded not speaking was my best strategy I decided.

“So you and I both know the score. The DA is not going to cut a deal with you threatening to make it public. So tell me what you want,” she demanded.

“Abe has to go inside. No suspended sentences for paying to have me killed. He knew his wife did the kid. He obviously thought that only the commoners deserved to be held accountable for their misdeeds. I don’t agree and I don’t think the ordinary people do either. I can’t demand thirty years, but I can demand he go to jail for a year, then five more years on parole,” I said. “The maximum is ten years for conspiracy to commit murder, so it’s a the deal of the century.”

“It does sound fair. What about a civil damage trial? Is that in my future,” she asked.

“Why do you care? You get paid by the hour,” I asked.

“And you are determined to see him with a criminal record?” she asked.

“I’m determined that he gets the full state penitentiary experience,” I said. “No county work farm experience.”

“He won’t go for it,” she said.

“Cool I’m a hell of a witness,” I said.

“I think I can damage you,” she said.

“Honey, my reputation was ruined a few years ago, there is nothing left. I intend to have the state ethics review board look into the trial, if there is one. I will not allow the DA to take it to trial then dog it. And of course the press will be all over it. I do wish you luck though.”

“You too,” she said. “Give me a couple of days before your press conference, please.”

“Thursday noon channel WJTV news,” I promised. I tried a second time to leave the courthouse. I was stopped that time by a woman in a power suit. She was almost attractive but she missed it just a little.

“You are Matt Andrews aren’t you?” she asked.

“That’s right,” I said.

“Are you in a big hurry?” she asked.

“Nothing to do as a matter of fact. I’m shutting down my lawn service, so I have all the time in the world. Well for the next few days at least,” I explained.

“Then this meeting might be just in time,” the woman near my age replied.

“Oh do you need some work done?” I asked.

“Actually I do,” she said. “I’m on my way to court, but I have my offices here in the courthouse. If you will stop by between four and five, I’ll make time for you.”

“Okay, where is your office?” I asked.

“My chambers are on the 3rd floor. Just look for my name on the door. It’s Judge Corcoran she informed me.

“I’ll be there at four and wait for you to find time for me. I should warn you I may be involved in a court case soon,” I said.

“I know. Don’t worry it isn’t about any pending case,” she said with a smile. “I look forward to seeing you at four or shortly thereafter.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

It struck me that a judge wanted to see me and I should be nervous as a whore in church. Instead I was calm. I had several balls in the air, and I felt more alive than I had since ran away from Philly. I guess the quiet life wasn’t for me after all.

I spent the time between my chance encounter with the judge and the appointment with her, driving to Melvin’s small office. “Melvin,” I said as I walked into his office. “You need to take me to lunch.”

“Really?” the heavy set black man asked. “What if I already had plans?”

“Do you have lunch plans,” I asked.

“No, but I might,” he informed me with a smile. “So where am I taking you.”

“The downtown cafe would be nice,” I replied.

“What are you are you cooking up now,” he asked.

“Let’s just wait until we can be seen by the lunch crowd,” I suggested.

“So you want me for window dressing. I guess I can’t be hurt by people knowing we are friends,” Melvin said.

In spite of what he thought, we didn’t discuss any business. I did make a big deal out of handing him a dollar. The buck was he could represent me, if I entered into negotiations with Honest Abe about damages. He might want to buy me off, so Melvin would be in place, just in case.

After Melvin and I finished lunch, I gave some thought to doing investigative work again. If not that, at least some kind of security work. That and cutting grass was about all I knew how to do. I never could see me cutting grass forever. Yes I did see the humor in the fact that every thing I had done since my fall from grace had revolved around grass.

I spent the time before the meeting sitting on a wooden bench in the court house square. At ten minutes to four by my cell phone clock, I left for the office of Judge Corcoran. The walk across the plaza and up the two flights of stairs, plus the court house steps, was an easy one. There was a buzzer on the judge’s office door, so I pushed it.

No one came, so I sat on a wooden bench across from her door. I waited for ten minutes wondering how I would get clients, if I became a PI. It wasn’t something I had ever considered. I would have had built in clients in Camden NJ, and a large customer base in the adjacent town of Philadelphia. After I left that area, I never thought I would be interested in taking up that kind of work again. My how things change, I thought. The Judge came down the hallway carrying an armful of files. I stood then walked to take her load.

“Is a mere civilian allowed to carry a judge’s files?” I asked.

“Only if there is a significant possibility she will drop them on the floor for everyone to see. I think a judicial review board would find we gave the decision due diligence,” she said.

By the time she finished she had the door open. She stood back and allowed me to enter first. Then she walked past me taking the files from me at the same time. She sat behind the desk as she carefully placed the files on top.

“I guess you are wondering why I invited you here?” she asked.

“I’m hoping it was to ask me for a favor. Having a judge owe you one, is never a bad thing,” I suggested.

 
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