Chapter 2

Later that evening Warden Saunders (Mary Beth), Brenda Gilford, and Doctor Elizabeth Johnson stepped from the elevator onto the sixth floor of the Maricopa Medical Center in Phoenix. The two guards standing outside the door of room 622, stood up straighter at the sight of the three women heading their way.

The senior of the two asked, “Good evening, Warden, what brings you here, tonight?”

“We were in Phoenix and decided to come check on the prisoner.”

Seeing his puzzled look, she added, “Brenda here is my Niece. She was the one whose life Mister Grayson saved.”

With a little smirk on his face he replied as he opened the door for them, “Then I understand.” After the ladies entered the room, he closed the door.

As soon as it was shut the other guard snickered, “From what I heard, he was raping her when our guards got there.”

The senior guard said, “Or maybe she was rewarding him. She sure doesn’t act like she thinks he was a rapist.”

“Hummmmmm, that’s true. Either that, or she likes it rough.”

“Do you want to pull her out of there and test your theory here in the hall, in front of the Warden?” Then, looking at the frightened look on the other guard’s face he continued, “Or - maybe you don’t.”

Inside the room the women looked at the unconscious prisoner. His face was so swollen that it looked more round than oval. The colors of the exposed parts of his body looked like a madras shirt that had been allowed to bleed (fade) too long with splotches of red, deep blue, purple and yellow blending into a complex pattern that was more appropriate for a child’s coloring book than for a man’s face. Three of his fingers were in splints, and his shoulder had been taped to allow the corrected dislocation to heal.

Brenda leaned over and spoke to him quietly. There was no verbal response from John, but Elizabeth Johnson noted a fluctuation on the screen monitoring his brain waves, and his heart beat increased slightly. She reached into her purse and pulled out a travel toothbrush holder. Opening it she removed a hypodermic syringe filled with a fluid. She removed the cap over the needle, and held the needle point up while she carefully brought a small drop out of the needle. Satisfied there were no bubbles in the syringe she slowly injected it into John’s IV, explaining, “This is a combination of several mild stimulants and Ativan to suppress anxiety without suppressing sexual sensitivity.”

While they waited for the shot to take effect Doctor Johnson monitored the display showing John’s brain activity, heart rate, and blood pressure. Finally satisfied the shot had had time to take affect she slowly eased the sheet down John’s body until his genitals were only covered by the hospital gown.

She pointed to Brenda, who leaned over, licked John’s ear softly and whispered, “John, my hero, it’s Brenda. When you get well, I’m going to give you your reward and fuck your eyes out of their sockets.” John’s heart rate jumped, and so did his blood pressure. His brainwave activity also increased significantly, and the rapid eye movement under the lids showed he was now in REM sleep. Suddenly there was a loud argument going outside the door. Doctor Johnson went to the door and saw a nurse arguing with the guards that she needed to get to her patient.

Looking at the nurse’s name tag Elizabeth said, “Nurse Price, I’m Doctor Elizabeth Johnson, and I’ve been sent here on behalf of the prison to evaluate Mister Grayson’s condition. I was observing Mister Grayson and talking to the guard whose life he saved. He reacted positively when he heard her voice and then went into REM Sleep.”

The nurse still seemed rather perturbed at the situation, but she grudgingly went back to the nurses’ station. Doctor Johnson thanked the guards for their diligence, and went back into the room. John Grayson was still in REM sleep, but resting peacefully. His monitors were still showing increased activity, but it had gone down considerably.

Doctor Johnson came over to the side of the bed, and in an outstanding imitation of a little girl, said in a soft Lolita voice, “Mister Johnson, thanks for babysitting me this afternoon. See my new panties. Momma told me not to show off my ‘coochie.’ Would you like to see my ‘coochie’?” There was no change in John Grayson.

Brenda leaned over and whispered, “Lover, are you dreaming of me?”

Bing! John’s penis went fully erect, and his monitor activity jumped again. He opened his eyes a fraction, though he still couldn’t focus through the slits. His face forced a small smile and he said, “Yep.”

“Well, Mary Beth, I’ll run some additional tests when he’s more awake, but I think you’ve got your answer. This man is not a pedophile.”

Mary Beth added, “And if the lead to his computer came from his wife, and she was lying about the child pornography, then why wouldn’t the rest of it be a lie, also?”

Three weeks later the original group, with the exception of Brenda, met at Zed Andrews’ Ranch. It was late afternoon, and they were sitting on the wrap-a-round porch discussing what they’d discovered about this strange case. Zed was the quintessential, semi-retired rancher. Tall in the saddle at six-four he was lean and lanky from long hours of physical labor. His thinning sandy hair topped a face tanned and toughened by the sun and the wind. His piercing blue-gray eyes had the look of an eagle, and it was easy to believe they had stared down many a man who’d tried to oppose him.

Warden Mary Beth Saunders was relaxing for the first time this week, and the Wild Turkey and water she was sipping on wasn’t hurting a bit. She was in her mid-fifties, but looked at least ten years younger. At five-seven she wasn’t a petite woman, but the deep blue silk blouse she was wearing brought out the blue in her eyes and complemented her shoulder length chestnut hair. The blouse was styled to suggest that, though her breasts were not huge, they were still substantial, and didn’t sag like many women her age. Her cream-colored poplin riding skirt, or culottes, was short enough to show her legs, which were propped up in a rather unladylike manner on the banister. They were slender and perfectly proportioned without a road-map of blue and red veins. The wide brown leather belt with blue and white decorative stitching emphasized her slender waist.

Doctor Elizabeth Johnson, on the other hand, was dressed in a top and jeans that showed she didn’t exercise as she should, and her graying hair made her look older than she was. She had a pleasant face, even though it was a little flabbier than it could’ve been. Her soft brown eyes showed deep emotions and compassion. She didn’t have what could be considered a poker face, because every expression on her face was very easy to read.

If one had to compare the two Doctor Johnson fit the profile of an aging, but self-satisfied mother, full of care and kindness, while Mary Beth was a mature, classy woman, who loved being a woman in a man’s world. She didn’t try to ‘be a man’ or to compete with men. She saw them as partners, working together toward a common goal.

Deke Templeton was the preppy college boy who grew out of ‘Yuppiedom’ as he matured, but never learned to relax. Even though he had on a casual shirt and slacks they were starched and ironed. With his perfectly styled, black hair, that had just a hint of gray in the temple, and his spa produced tan he might as well have been wearing a three-piece suit. The only thing that seemed to relate him to his friend, Zed, was his piercing blue eyes.

Zed asked Elizabeth, “So you’ve completed all your tests? What are your conclusions?”

“First, the young man has no pedophile tendencies whatsoever, zero, zilch, nadda. Second, I had him tell me the whole story under hypnosis. He didn’t pull the trigger. He wasn’t even in the room when the victim, J. William Brockman, was shot. Grayson confessed trying to protect his wife, Candice, who told him she shot her boss when he tried to rape her. Grayson figured the worst he would get would be justifiable homicide.”

Zed replied, “Shit!! Mary Beth, let’s put that proposal on hold for the moment, you might decide to do me in that way.”

Mary Beth laughed, “Zed, you know I wouldn’t do something like that to you. Now, how much did you say this ranch was worth?”

When the laughter quieted down she continued, “Zed, what did you discover at the lab?”

“The lab’s supervisor is now retired, and if he got any money over this it doesn’t show. I talked to him at his home, and he explained he assigned lab technicians to cases on a rotational basis. The only thing he remembers unusual about the case was that the original tech got food poisoning and the second tech had to take a leave of absence to go to Chicago to care for his mother. Someone had bumped her on the stairs at a mall, and she’d fallen and broken her hip.”

“And the third?”

“Supposedly he took a job in California about six months later. That wouldn’t be that unusual, as he was the tech with the least seniority, but when I called California they said they never heard of him. I’ve checked around, and I can’t find anything on him. It’s almost like the earth opened up, and swallowed him.” After letting that thought sink in Zed added, “At that point I went to the CID as I wanted to review the file containing the evidence and the lab report. The final copy of the report was there, but no notes, working copies of the report, or physical evidence could be found. I went to the evidence control log, and it said that all physical evidence had been sent back to the Phoenix Police Property Room. I happened to be friends with the sergeant who heads the property room, or evidence locker, so I paid my friend a visit. I told him that with the publicity of the prison incident I was considering writing a book about John Grayson. Expressing a desire to understand his original conviction I said I wanted to look at some of the evidence, just to get a feel in my mind for this man. My friend didn’t think there would be a problem, so he pulled up the computer file that showed where the evidence was stored. It showed everything was still being held by the crime lab at the CID.”

Shaking his head with a very perplexed look Deke Thomas said, “This whole thing is getting crazier and crazier. I checked out the attorneys involved, as well as the judge. They’re all prominent men who’ve excellent reputations, and who travel in different circles. Not having any other direction I talked to each. When I did I found myself chasing my tail in a circle with the defense attorney sending me to the judge, who sent me to the prosecutor, who sent me back to the defense attorney.”

Mary Beth asked, “So where did you go from there?”

“I finally invited them all to lunch, saying that with the publicity relating to the defendant the AG’s (Attorney General) office wanted some background to head off speculative reporters. I found it was the first time the three had ever discussed the case outside of the courtroom.”

“And?”

“The prosecutor said he was pressured by the mayor, the DA, and other civic leaders to do whatever it took to get the ‘pervert’ behind bars. This was shortly after the child care / pedophile cases in California and Georgia, and they wanted the door slammed shut on this guy without all the media publicity. That was why the primary effort was on the murder case, which the prosecutor thought was rather weak. Then, when the defense offered to roll over in court for a life sentence rather than the death penalty he saw no choice but to take it.”

“Interesting, what else?”

“The defense attorney said he was given a signed statement from Mister Grayson saying he didn’t want to drag his wife through the courtroom and media speculation. It directed him to make a deal for life, if they wouldn’t fight the evidence.”

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