Decree: Saul Heath Series, #3

By J. R. Caldwell

Damon Price was an achiever in the Erie    business community. In his late thirties and on the cusp of becoming only the second CEO for the family enterprise, he excelled. The younger of the two sons, he learned well the methods to woo investors, put together opulent realty deals that would not just enhance the region but also his wallet. Praised for his patriotic  service by volunteering in Iraq, he was quite successful, well groomed and likable among his corporate peers.

     But there was a very dark side to this upstart entrepreneur, an aggrieved, a cunning, bitter side. As a consequence of the recent, abrupt dissolution of his marriage, Damon fermented an  uncontrollable rage within himself towards his ex wife as well as Judge Vivienne Cox, who had signed the emergency decree. In his crosshairs stood her eighteen year old son, Drew.

     "Anger is one letter short of danger."

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.R.Caldwell
• Release date: Sep 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201603809

Book preview

One

He stood there before the bench with little remorse in his eyes. Judge Cox leaned forward, her hands resting on each cheek, as she sized up the accused before her.

Mr. Simmons, do you have counsel with you?

No.

Did the State offer you a public defender while you were incarcerated this past week?

Yes.

And you did not accept?

No.

She wasn’t getting far with his terse one word responses. Are you representing yourself, therefore?

For what?

For the crime which brings you to this courtroom.

But I did not do anything.

Vivienne Cox sat full back on the leather chair. She that was perplexed at him not grasping the severity of his actions, the criminal offense he perpetrated. She panned his face and blank expression. He did not have the stare-in-space gaze of Alzheimer’s or dementia, the deer-in-the-headlights look; he wasn’t arrogant and defiant; he wasn’t challenging the court like a cold-blooded felon. Rather he appeared content with himself and only distraught that the judge did not understand his motive. I never intended to harm anybody, he implored, I just wanted to enjoy a day of fun with her. What’s wrong with that, Your Honor?

Understand, retorted Judge Cox in her soft tone, but you cannot do that with someone else’s child, whom you do not know. She struggled to reason with the sad, slumped shouldered man. Mr. Simmons can you grasp what I’m trying to say?

While he stood there silent, she elaborated. You took someone else’s little girl without the parent’s permission. You triggered a three state Amber alert. We had authorities monitoring all the routes that exit from the city. But most of all, sir, you caused immense panic for the Kerry family. Chloe’s mom was sick with fright.

So that was her name, he mused with his head tilted up to the ceiling and rocking back and forth. I thought she was saying Zoey all afternoon. No wonder she would give me a funny look every time I said it. But she did love riding the merry-go-round. He smiled into the air. I enjoyed watching her go around and around the water in the kiddie boats. She was positive that she was steering it herself. At last, he gave direct eye contact to Vivienne. It felt so good remembering.

The judge tried a second time, saying the same admonisment in different words. Do you realize the consternation you caused that family, the cost to the authorities responding, the furor on the newscasts when you snatched her from the grocery store that morning? Thank God the teenage, bag boy had the presence of mind to sense something wrong and ran to see you putting her in your car. He described the vehicle to a tee for the police; even caught the first two letters of your license plate.

"I didn’t snatch her, as you say. I just borrowed her for a time, asked her if she wanted to go with me to ride the horsies at Waldameer. The smile of a confused and lost soul again. She took my hand and we went."

While her mom was only a few feet away at the deli counter. When she turned and Chloe was not in sight, do you realize what that hysteria was like, sir?

I do, ma’am. Like the day of the phone call!

Judge Cox was lost, trying to understand what he was saying; this man dressed well and was not a vagabond, looking innocent and non repentant. This gentleman in his late thirties, who last Friday morning, abducted the five year old daughter of Dan and Katie Kerry and caused hours of anxiety before two officers apprehended him with her at the amusement park. The actual time he had her was four and a half hours, but to the mother, it was a lifetime. The judge had seen the reunion on the breaking news and knew she had to be stern when Simmons was brought for arraignment this week. However, he was anything but the abductor type. He did not fit the mold; had no connection with the family. Many Amber alerts are relatives, the other parent in a divorce, fighting with the wife or husband in a custody battle.

No such story here.

Why?

The phone call, Mr. Simmons?

He lowered his head. "The day my Amelia and Cary were snatched from me against my will!"

Amelia and Cary?

My wife and our six-year-old daughter.

Vivienne mellowed. The personal story, although in no way could it be a justification for kidnapping, a small child, offered somewhat of a rational for this bizarre episode. Snatched? Both were using the same verb, back and forth, to decipher his reasoning in the matter.

By a f’ing, immoral drunk driver on route six, who killed them head on over at the other side of North East. His anger reverted back down. Pardon me, ma’am. The language, I mean. Not for trying to have a fun day with a little girl who looked and reminded me of my Cary. He had tears running down his face. Zoey, err, Chloe, he laughed, has brown curls too, you know. Just like my precious daughter.

Judge Cox paused at length. I am so sorry for your loss, Mr. Simmons, but that can in no way validate what you did. You must know that I have the authority to sentence you to seven years behind bars and a two-hundred and fifty dollar fine. She studied him to see if that broke through the mental fog surrounding him. I do not sense malice here, revenge or punishment. However, I cannot waive your case in total. It would set a stark precedent down the years for some clever lawyer to use to argue a malicious spousal act of retribution to the partner. I shall waive the fine and I will decrease your jail time to forty months with the first five days being served at the Crisis Center at the UPMC Western Behavioral Health at Safe Harbor. My decree will require that you spend your time there in grief counseling. I will ask for a mental evaluation to determine if you know the difference between right and wrong at this time. If so, then following that, you will be remanded to the State Correctional Institution down in Mercer. If not, we will consider incarcerated medical options.

Simmons nodded in agreement.

Again, sir, I am sorry for your personal tragedy. But you cannot, therefore, inflict harm on another, be it intentional or not.

Placing his hands behind his back, the uniformed officer cuffed and led him from the courtroom.

An aide, older than Vivienne and with a shock of white hair in a partial bun, stood on the other side of the open door to her chamber. Let me hang that for you, Your Honor.

Thank you, Rose. However, she did not hand over the judicial robe; rather, stood there pondering. You know, in my entire twelve years on the bench as well as my twenty-two as a prosecutor, I have never had a case like this one. She lowered her head. Sad. I just couldn’t imagine how my husband and I would deal with the loss of our son before we passed.

Would you like a glass of water?

Please. And you may go. I’ll be a few more minutes with paperwork. I can’t understand why the President Judge had such a crammed docket for a Friday. We are usually out of here by early afternoon for the weekend. Sitting down at the desk, she murmured to herself, I better call Michael about getting dinner for him and Drew. But as she reached for the cell lying there by her in-box, it lit up with her son’s smiling face and goofy pose, a picture taken from their past Christmas vacation in Cancun.

It sounded off: It’s Drew for you! It’s Drew for you! Her comical and computer savvy eighteen year old had sung his own made-up lyrics and created the special ringtone announcing him on her smartphone. As often as Vivienne had heard it, it never ceased to give a chuckle and a massive smile. Rose, likewise, laughed as she left the room.

Listen, you two, sorry but I’m going to be late. You and your dad will have to get something. Maybe you can even convince him to get fast food with you. Do you have plans for tonight?

Drew bypassed her question. Yo, Mom! I’m psyched. So very psyched!

Why?

Got my acceptance letter from Stanford in the mail. And they’re offering money to run track for the school.

But you also have the letters from places a lot closer to home, Cornell, Penn State. Even Ohio State is closer than California.

But Stanford has the most complete syllabus. I’ve studied and compared. They have the best meteorology courses. I think I want this one. Besides, it’s only a three and a half hour plane ride. Shorter than driving to Cornell or Ohio State.

I suppose but...

But what, Mom?

You won’t be coming home as often from way out there.

You sound like Sabina.

Did you already tell her you were accepted at Stanford and that’s what you want?

I tried you earlier but you were still in court and didn’t answer. Man, I am so happy.

Vivienne tried to have the same enthusiasm. And I am happy for you. Did you tell dad yet?

He’s walking in the front door now. See you when you get home. Sabina and I are going over to walk by the lake but we’ll wait until after you get here. Love you.

She googled the phone number for Safe Harbor. Judge Cox wanted to alert the administration of her sentencing Mr. Simmons to their facility and the dire need for the counseling. He was to be confined the entire time before being transported to Mercer or wherever. She would have someone from the court deliver the paperwork as well as the authorization to bill the City of Erie for his keep.

Before calling, she was interrupted.

He stood in the doorway left ajar by Rose. So, you’re still here, Madam Judge. What’s the problem? Did you act up and have to stay after school?

It was Ted Castillo, the long time guard from the front desk in the lobby. Well loved by all in the building, the deep tanned gentleman with silver hair and long, thin sideburns, had a humor enjoyed daily with the court personnel.

I see you did well in the sun with your vacation last week, or did you fall asleep in a local tanning booth and have a staycation? Vivienne could match his wit.

No. Solid Florida sunshine in Fort Myers. Arlene’s sister and brother-in-law have had a place there for years. They still invite me despite that I’ve been alone now for the past six. There was never a conversation with Ted that his beloved wife was not mentioned in some way. They were together a half century shy of one year when she passed. Are you staying much longer? Everyone’s gone. I am making my final rounds, setting the locks and heading out.

Not much more. I just have to write a note for myself for Monday morning and make a phone call.

How’s that good looking son of yours? He graduates high school next month, doesn’t he?

Yes.

You don’t sound that happy about it.

Vivienne corrected her tone. Sorry. It’s just that our Drew is growing up so fast. And now he wants to go to college on the west coast. Stanford.

Wow. Good for him; not so good for you and Michael. Why way out there?

She sighed. He claims they have the best meteorology courses. Pausing, she explained further. He’s always said from when he was a little kid that he wanted to be a weather man. He would like some day to work at NOAA and track hurricanes, tornadoes; the heavy duty climate events.

Everyone has their passion. Luckily for him, he has two brilliant parents who are willing to give him the freedom to spread his wings.

I suppose but he’s our only, you know.

Ted nodded. He was quite aware of their family situation; that Drew was born later in their marriage. After struggling with infertility for a dozen years, she conceived out of the blue at age forty-one. The two of them were ecstatic; never questioned why it occurred when it did without any medical intervention. Vivienne refused and would, in a gentle reminder, correct people who referred to Drew as a surprise instead of, a precious gift to her and her husband.

If I set all of them, can you make sure you pull each one shut and assure they are locked? Most especially the door to the back parking lot.

I just have to make a phone call and then I’ll pack up and leave.

That reminds me. I had a call for you at the front desk about forty-five minutes ago. I gave the gentleman your desk phone here. Did you get it?

No one has called since I sat down.

Don’t stay too much longer. And please, again, pull the doors hard to have the locks catch. We don’t want all of the ghosts of past judges escaping the building over the weekend.

On point, he left her laughing with his exit. Vivienne dialed Safe Harbor.

It was past the sunset for early May, even though it didn’t go down until eight-thirty. There had been other times when she had stayed longer than anyone else and never had a concern for her safety.

Her used Tahoe was the last vehicle in the lot behind the court where the judges, their aides and employees from the coffee shop on the ground floor parked. It wasn’t well lit; the car was a distance from the nearest light pole. No one had assigned spots, however, like most daily activities that we do out of routine, she had parked in her favorite corner. There was shade from a couple elm trees lining the city street running past. On a summer day, it kept the car from being too stifling hot when she left the courthouse.

Vivienne stopped in her tracks. Although Michael would not be happy with her for bringing work home on the weekend, she carried two fat folders of briefs to study in preparation for the family cases in the coming weeks. On top of the papers cradled in her left arm was Danielle Steel’s latest novel, In His Father’s Footsteps; she often read fiction at lunchtime in her office, a welcomed distraction from the judicial work of the day. Rummaging with her free hand, the judge searched for the keys in her purse, strapped over her right shoulder.

Something struck her as odd.

It looked like someone was in her vehicle, sitting in the driver’s seat.

As she approached with caution, it became quite evident that a stranger was resting in her car. Pressing the button on the remote, she realized that it was already unlocked. Whoever he was, had broken into her SUV. Vivienne pressed again and relocked it; looked around for signs of anyone else in the lot.

Not a soul around.

The individual in her car was not moving. As she edged closer, she saw that it was an older man slumped over and quite still. Retrieving her cell from the same purse, the judge called the Erie Police Department.

Keeping her distance from the lone vehicle, waiting for help, she hypothesized.

Was the person hugging her steering wheel maybe drunk?

Or...

Dead!

Two

The EMT from the waiting ambulance, who had been leaning inside with his thumb and forefinger on the carotid artery in the old man’s neck, displayed a bitter look as he backed out. He’s expired, he said to Saul. The Erie County medical examiner proceeded to duck in for his own confirmation. I wouldn’t do that if I were you, the stench is unbearable. He reeks from body odor and booze. An empty whiskey bottle laid at the victim’s feet near the gas pedal. Therefore, Vivienne’s initial speculative question had its answer. The car intruder was both drunk and dead.

Heath did not heed his advice, lowered his face within the driver-side open door and backed up in a flash, waving his hand back and forth in front of his nose. Whew! Right, you are, my man. We will all move aside and allow you to extricate him and take him to the morgue. Tell Murray, I’ll have Andy stop there tomorrow for any preliminary information as to his death and identity.

No sooner did he mention his assistant’s name when Fleisher turned the bend around the side of the building and came to a stop in a nearby space. The lot had several vehicles now, a half hour since Vivienne called the station. Michael, Drew and Sabina stood off with the judge, observing; there was Sergeant Manning’s squad car as well as another one and Saul’s beat up Chevy Cruze. The ambulance still had its lights flashing, the motor running; the police had doused the red balls. A few passerbys had gathered near the trees lining the lot to gawk.

Sorry, Andy whispered as he moved to Heath’s side, I was helping Cheryl with Shane’s bath. I didn’t see the call on my phone until I got back downstairs. What do we have?

A stiff found in Judge Cox’s Tahoe. She discovered him when she was leaving the court. It could be natural causes. Don’t know yet. The real mystery is why he broke into her car in the first place, only to die.

With a raised hand, Andy acknowledged the professional woman, standing nearby with her family. He knew her not only because of her distinguished reputation on the bench, but likewise as the prominent lecturer, who often joined Saul on the stage at Gannon for seminars during his college days. Vivienne Cox was highly respected in the community. However, what Andy