Bromley

Chapter 1

Mark Bromley handed the papers to Heath Barkley and got out of the courtroom as fast as he could without running. He was embarrassed enough, feeling the eyes of people there to watch the trial all staring at him – whether they were really staring at him or not. It wasn't until he was out the door and half a block away that he stopped and caught his breath, long enough to see he was outside the Empire Saloon. It was open. He went straight inside.

Harry the bartender looked startled to see him, and alarmed to see his demeanor. Bromley went straight to the bar but did not look up when he said, simply, "Whiskey."

A little early in the morning, Harry thought, but he realized there was only one reason Bromley would be here and drinking now. He was supposed to be trying Joshua Cunningham for blowing up Collier Dam. He was supposed to be in court, taking Jarrod Barkley's place since Cunningham had blown Jarrod up too only a few nights before, and blinded him. If Bromley was here, drinking, and not in court – somebody had thrown him out and replaced him.

Jarrod? Harry wondered as he poured the drink, gave it to Bromley and watched Bromley go to a table alone in the back, clearly hiding. Of course, it had to be Jarrod Barkley. Jarrod was the acting district attorney for this county since Jim Scanlon was killed. He was the only one who could throw Bromley off the case, and blinded or not, Jarrod would do it if he felt like he had no choice. Beyond that, Harry didn't know what was going on and wasn't going to ask. He'd find out soon enough.

A lot sooner than he planned. It wasn't ten minutes later that Joshua Cunningham and his two henchmen came in the door. Harry watched Cunningham stop to see Bromley sulking in the back. Cunningham motioned his man Mason to the bar while he and his other man Corell sat down at a table right near the front window. Mason asked for a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. Harry handed it over without a word. Mason took it to Cunningham's table and sat down with him and Corell.

Harry watched the power playing out. Cunningham advertising himself in the front window, Bromley hiding in the back. Cunningham's lawyer nowhere to be seen. Harry began to feel sick inside. Maybe Jarrod hadn't thrown Bromley out of the trial. Maybe court had been completely dismissed for some reason Harry didn't know yet.

Other men came in, and suddenly Harry was doing a brisk business at just after ten o'clock in the morning. He didn't ask questions, but he listened to the talk.

"Somebody ought to tell Bromley how they had to hustle Barkley out of there."

"I thought Barkley was gonna break his neck when he fell like that. How the hell could he think he could try that case in the shape he's in?"

"You know those Barkleys. They feel like they can do anything."

"The judge might start that trial up again tomorrow, but Barkley's gonna crash again and Cunningham is gonna go scot free."

"Keep it down. Cunningham is right over by the window."

"And Bromley's in the back. Why do you think Barkley took the case away from him? Do you think Bromley sold out to Cunningham?"

"I'll bet Barkley thinks so."

One of the men finally looked up at Harry and said, "You shoulda seen it. Barkley was pathetic, an absolute cripple. They had to hustle him out of there because he fell and nearly killed himself."

Harry noticed that Bromley heard that. Without being asked, Harry took a bottle to the table where Bromley sat alone and put it in front of him. Bromley finally looked up at him.

"Try not to drink the whole thing," Harry said quietly. "I think Jarrod Barkley's gonna need you tomorrow."

Bromley took the bottle and poured another drink. He did stay for hours and finished the whole bottle. He was there long after Cunningham, his men, and the others who had come in went on their way and other patrons came in. He stayed long enough to pass out with his head down on the table.

Nobody came to help him out. When he finally woke up it was late in the day, when Harry came to him and gave him a shake. "Mark – Mark, come on," Harry said softly.

The place was not as crowded as it had been when court adjourned, but it was filling up again. Bromley looked up, looking like he didn't know where he was.

Harry sat down with him. "I'm gonna get you some coffee and a sandwich. You need to eat it and go home and get ready. You might be needed in court tomorrow."

"No," Bromley said. "I'm not needed."

"The case is gonna start up again, and from what I hear Jarrod Barkley is still over in the courthouse preparing for it. Now, he had a rough morning and he's hurting, but you and I both know he won't just quit. Tomorrow he may have to, though, and you need to be in shape to take over if he can't go on."

"I can't go into that courtroom, Harry," Bromley said.

"But you can go into your office and be ready in case you do have to go in there, because Joshua Cunningham is gonna walk away if you don't."

Bromley looked away. "He's gonna walk away if I do," he said quietly, resigned, embarrassed.

"I'll bring you that coffee and sandwich," Harry said with a sigh and got up.

Bromley felt sick but did not throw up. It wasn't from the liquor. It was from the embarrassment, from the shame. Harry couldn't know – nobody could know – but somehow everybody did know. The whole town knew he had caved to Cunningham's threats, and that's why Jarrod had him removed from the case and took his place. He remembered overhearing that Jarrod had fallen and had to be taken out of the courtroom, and now Bromley felt embarrassed and ashamed about that too. Bromley knew that Jarrod knew he'd sold out and he somehow found the guts to replace him even though he was fighting blind. Jarrod wouldn't have been blinded in the first place if he hadn't taken the case away from him at the start – because Jarrod had doubts about his capabilities.

Jarrod Barkley, falling and being taken out of the courtroom, in shame and embarrassment even deeper than Bromley felt his own. Until now. Because now Bromley realized all of Jarrod's shame and embarrassment were his fault, not Jarrod's.

Bromley ate the sandwich and drank the coffee, and went home. It was then he threw up and threw up a lot, until there was nothing left to throw up and his throat screamed with pain from throwing up stomach acid. He crashed on his sofa and fell asleep there.

Bromley didn't even have the courage to go into the office the next day, much less go near the courthouse. He stayed home, drinking some more, and becoming even more embarrassed when late in the afternoon, his secretary from the office came by.

"I wanted to see how you were," Jane Campbell said, in stumbling words, embarrassed herself to see him.

Which made Bromley feel even worse than he already felt. "I'm sorry, I – " That was as far as he got. He couldn't even let her in the door.

But Jane Campbell smiled. "You might want to know – Mr. Barkley was terrific in court today."

Bromley couldn't believe what he'd heard.

"His brothers assisted him," Jane said, "and it was like he'd never been blinded or had to leave court yesterday. He had Cunningham nailed to the wall! He even told that henchman of his that even he could see he was lying!"

Bromley wasn't sure at all how that made him feel. Better for Jarrod, but more embarrassed. More ashamed that he'd made Jarrod go through that, and more ashamed that his blinded boss had shown him even more how pathetic he was himself. "Thanks, Jane," Bromley said. "Thanks for letting me know." He started to close the door.

"You'll be in on Monday?" Jane asked before could close it.

Bromley gave a nod, even if it was an uncertain nod, and he closed the door on his secretary.

He stood there for a moment, feeling sick again, from drinking too much all day and for realizing again how disgusting he was. For the first time, he actually thought that he had no business being a lawyer. He didn't have what it took. He gave into a man he was prosecuting because he was scared, and his boss had to relieve him – because he, Bromley, had forced him into taking over the case, and Jarrod did a better job despite his handicap and embarrassment.

Bromley went back to his sofa, sat down, and cried.