Justin absentmindedly picked up a French fry and swirled it in the catsup on his plate, as he and Brian sat in a booth at the Liberty Diner; Greg had joined them shortly after they arrived to discuss today's events at the trial.
"So were you as surprised as we were by Prescott's amnesia claim?" Justin asked him, still stunned over the afternoon's tumultuous events.
"Absolutely," Greg verified. "I never saw that one coming - That was the LAST stunt I expected Prescott to pull," he answered, shaking his head. "I'm still in disbelief, although maybe I should have expected it. That's just the type of outrageous circus and pony act I've seen Sinclair try to pull off in the past."
"But, come ON," Brian growled. "I mean, does the fucker really think the jury's going to believe that he suddenly lost his memory of what happened? How convenient," he sneered.
"Greg?" Justin looked over at the suddenly silent attorney, who appeared to be deep in thought. "You DO agree with Brian, right?"
Greg sighed softly. "You know, as outlandish as it may sound to us, I've been doing this long enough to know that you can never guess what is going through a jury's mind. And I know it's not what you want to hear, but his unbelievable story just might be absurd enough to be believed."
"What?!" both Brian and Justin cried simultaneously. "You've GOT to be kidding me," Brian added, as Justin nodded in agreement.
"Look at it this way," Greg explained quickly, raising his hands in capitulation. "Let me play devil's advocate here. I'm in NO way saying I believe him," he assured both men. "But what better explanation could there be for a powerful, self-assured man who runs an intricate, multi-million dollar company on a daily basis and hobnobs with the jet set than for him to temporarily go off the deep end? He's counting on everyone believing that that has to be the ONLY explanation," he cautioned them. Before the two could raise their voices in protest, however, Greg continued. "Hear me out. I'm saying that is ONE plausible scenario that could be used by Sinclair to explain what happened. But of course it's not the only one, or the actual reason. You know what really happened – the man became obsessed with someone he couldn't have and was willing to take whatever measures he needed to get what, or in this case, WHO he wanted. It's going to be my job to make sure the jury believes us and not Prescott."
"Well, that's the fucking $64,000 question, isn't it?" Brian said. "Who is the jury going to believe?"
Nodding in assent, Greg added, "That's why the cross-examination is going to be crucial tomorrow. We have to try and trip the son of a bitch up, so the jury knows just how calculating the man is." Standing up, he informed them, "Which is my cue to leave. I need to review all of his testimony in depth so I'm ready tomorrow." Shaking both of their hands, he suggested to them, "Go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a big day."
Just before he left, Justin had one more question. "Do you think the trial will go to the jury tomorrow, Greg?"
The attorney bit his lip briefly in thought. "Hard to tell – depends upon how long the closing arguments go on. I'm sure both Sinclair and I will have plenty to say," he answered cryptically. "If I were a betting man, though, since Prescott is being cross-examined first thing tomorrow, I think by the end of the day it WILL be handed to the jury for their deliberation. I'll see you two first thing tomorrow." Nodding to both men, he headed toward the exit, leaving the two partners alone as they sat side by side.
Justin let out a frustrated sigh, as Brian glanced over at his troubled expression. He reached his arm and placed it around the blond's slender shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. Receiving a slight smile in return, he whispered softly, "Let's so home." Justin nodded as he allowed Brian to tug his hand gently to pull him against the toned body. He took advantage of their position to give his partner a tender but passionate kiss.
"Mmmm," Justin mumbled against the other man's lips. "Best therapy a man could ever have," he murmured, as his hands wrapped themselves around the brunet's waist.
Chuckling softly in return, Brian nuzzled his partner's neck, licking a path from his nape up to behind the blond's ear, eliciting a shiver of delight from the artist. "What do you say we resume your treatment at home, Sunshine?" he whispered to the other man suggestively. "I think today's stressful events call for a deep, penetrating massage, followed by a long, hot shower after a down and dirty session with your chief therapist." Justin moaned as Brian started to reach for his cock, both momentarily forgetting where they were, which was not uncommon for them.
"Hey, you two!" They were startled out of their private world by Debbie's shrill greeting. "Enough of the triple X show!" she grumbled good naturedly. "Take it outside - we've got kids trying to fucking EAT here!"
Grinning a little sheepishly, Justin replied, "Sorry, Deb." Pulling his partner's hand, he said, "Let's go, Brian," before Justin waved briefly at Debbie. Just before the two of them opened the diner door to depart, they heard Debbie say, "Good luck tomorrow, Sunshine. Carl and I will be there just as soon as my shift's over tomorrow morning." Before leaving, both men smiled in gratitude at the brassy lady they both loved as part of their family.
The next day as Brian steered them toward the parking lot at the side of the courthouse, Justin was astounded by the number of press reporters and cameramen stationed by the main front doors. The number of people there seemed to have practically doubled in size overnight, no doubt hoping that the trial would go to the jury today and they could report all the sensational details to their hungry viewers later. "I sure am glad Greg arranged for us to enter through the side door," Justin commented, shuddering slightly in distaste at the thought of having to push his way through the throng of people stationed by the main door. "There's no way I could have handled entering through the main doors, with all those people shoving a camera and microphone in my face."
"Well, if they had tried, they would have had a fucking microphone shoved up their ASS ," Brian vowed protectively.
"I'm just so relieved that Judge Mason decided to permit you back into the courtroom today," Justin told his partner. "There's no way I could have gone through this today without you."
Brian briefly glanced over and took the blond's hand. "Me, too, Sunshine. I just hope Greg's able to get the jury to see through Prescott's bullshit."
Justin bit his lip nervously. "Yeah, me, too. You don't know how much I'm counting on that. Brian, they've just GOT to believe Greg. If the jury finds him not guilty by reason of temporary insanity, Greg said the most he would get would be confinement to a mental facility, where they would regularly check his mental status. He told me if they ultimately find his mental "condition" under control with medication, he could walk out a free man after only being in there for a short time! I don't want this man to rule my life, but if he's allowed to walk I could never feel safe, even if you're there to help protect me. If he could do what he did before, he's capable of anything!" Despite his vow to himself that he would not get upset, Justin couldn't help the unshed tears from forming at the thought of having to live in constant fear of what Prescott might do.
"Justin," Brian scolded him gently. "Do NOT go there. He is NOT going to walk, do you hear me?" As he placed the 'Vette in a parking spot and turned off the motor, he reached over to gently grasp the other man's chin in his hand. "Are you listening to me? He's NOT going to win this battle," he pledged to him. "Okay?"
Justin pursed his lips, trying desperately to believe what Brian was telling him. After several seconds, he answered simply, "Okay. You've never lied to me, Brian, so I choose to believe that you're right. It's the ONLY possible outcome there can be, right?" he asked his partner hopefully.
"You bet," Brian assured him, as he reached over to kiss the full lips tenderly. "We'd better get in there," he reminded his partner gently, as he released his hold on the other man and reached to open the driver's door. Justin joined him shortly by the back of the car, as the two instantly reached for the other's hand and walked toward the side entrance.
"This court is now in session!" the bailiff announced, as Justin and Brian took their seats toward the middle of the courtroom. They decided to relocate a little bit closer this time, so they could plainly hear their attorney's cross examination of Prescott.
"I will remind the defendant that he is still under oath," Judge Mason cautioned Prescott, who nodded in understanding as he resumed his place on the witness stand. As usual, Prescott was attired in the latest and most expensive fashion, from his dark blue silk tie to his black Gucci loafers, and as always he was the epitome of an affluent, powerful industry mogul.
"Counselor?" the judge addressed the prosecuting attorney. "Are you prepared for the cross-examination?"
"Yes, Your Honor," Matthews verified, as he rose from his seat. Walking firmly toward the defendant, he began by asking Prescott to review once again his influential standing in the sportswear industry.
"And you graduated summa cum laude from the University of Chicago, correct?" Prescott asked him.
"That's correct," Prescott confirmed, adopting a smug air as he answered. "I was the valedictorian of the class, in fact."
La-dee-da, Brian sneered to himself.
Greg continued to ask Prescott questions regarding his education. "And I believe that is also where you first became acquainted with Mr. Belden, is it not?" he inquired.
"Yes, that's correct. We were both fraternity brothers in Sigma Alpha Chi."
"I see. And you have maintained a relationship with Mr. Belden ever since then?" he pressed.
"Yes, that's right," Prescott answered amiably enough.
"So when you asked Mr. Belden if he would invite Mr. Kinney to Chicago to pitch an ad campaign to him, Mr. Belden readily agreed."
"Yes, I suppose so."
"Was Mr. Belden apprised of the exact reason WHY you made the request of him?"
"Actually, no," the man admitted.
"No? Then just what DID you say to your former fraternity brother?" Matthews asked.
"I just told him I needed a favor, and what it entailed. He trusts me – he didn't really ask any questions. Besides, he knew Kinney's reputation and was only too happy to entertain him for me."
"Entertain him?" Matthews asked curiously. "What exactly do you mean by that, Mr. Prescott?"
For the first time that morning, Prescott appeared a little uncomfortable at the direction Matthews' questions were taking. Stammering just a little as his façade broke slightly, he explained, "Well, he had heard of Kinnetik's reputation in the advertising spectrum and his way of thinking outside the box, as he put it, so he was already curious as to what type of cam paign the man would come up with for his company."
"I see. So you're telling me that your friend agreed to listen to Mr. Kinney's advertising pitch just because you asked him to?"
"Yes."
"And he had no idea you were using him to stalk Mr. Kinney's partner?" Matthews prodded, his voice raising.
"Objection, Your Honor!" Sinclair pounced, jumping to his feet.
"Sustained – Mr. Matthews…." the judge began.
"I apologize, Your Honor," Greg replied. "I withdraw the question." I still got my point across, though, you son of a bitch.
"All right, Mr. Prescott. Moving onto another question . You still attest that you knew nothing about Mr. Kingsley's duplicity in assuming the identity of Mr. Kinney's associate, Ted Schmidt, to cancel the security detail at h is and Mr. Taylor's loft residence?" Matthews peered at him intently, trying his best to somehow intimidate the other man.
Prescott, however, was not to be spooked so easily. "That's what I am saying. If Mr. Kingsley DID pretend to be Mr. Kinney's associate, it was NOT under my direction," he stated smo othly. It was worth every bit of money I paid to that fucker to lie for me, Prescott thought smugly.
"Don't you find it hard to believe, Mr. Prescott, that a man who has been under your employment for over 10 years would take it upon himself to commit fraud just to stay in your good graces?" Greg couldn't keep the disdain and disbelief from seeping into his voice.
Defensively, Prescott shot back, "I don't care WHAT you think, MR. Matthews, I can't read Mr. Kingsley's mind and tell you why he did it. I'm just saying I had nothing to do with his decision."
Brian muttered under his breath, "That lying piece of shit," afraid to say anything too loudly for fear Mason would have him ejected again from the courtroom, or worse. It was too important that he be in the courtroom today to support his partner. Prescott's retort to Greg's last question at least meant the arrogant son of a bitch's facade was cracking just a bit at last.
"But you DO admit that you sent all those gifts and notes to Mr. Taylor?"
Again, Prescott's voice took on a defensive tone as he answered the prosecutor, acting as if he were answering a child. "YES, Mr. Matthews. I think that has already been established. The last time I looked, though, there was no law against sending gifts to someone you are attracted to."
"No, " Greg admitted. "But most people don't go to the lengths that you did to be reunited with Mr. Taylor."
"Well, most people can't AFFORD to, either," Prescott shot back, earning a warning glare from his own attorney. The last impression Sinclair wanted his client to give was that of an arrogant, self-satisfied bastard, and Prescott was coming perilously close to doing just that.
"Nevertheless, Mr. Prescott, you went to a lot of trouble just to have a reunion lunch with Mr. Taylor, did you not?"
"Yes, I did, but again, that's NOT a crime, Mr. Matthews." Prescott's blood pressure was rising as he became more and more agitated with the prosecutor's condescending line of questioning.
"No , it's not, Mr. Prescott. But it IS to drug someone's drink and kidnap him!" he shouted.
"Enough!" Sinclair exploded this time. "Your Honor, my colleague is totally out of control! He is badgering and maligning my client!" he stated vehemently.
"Sustained! Mr. Matthews, this line of questioning is out of line. Please keep your questions to the facts of this trial!" Mason commanded. "Objection is sustained."
Sighing, Matthews answered, somewhat frustrated, "Yes, Your Honor." Turning again to Prescott, he once more went on the offensive. "Mr. Prescott, you still maintain that you have no me mory whatsoever from the time Mr. Taylor drunk a toast with you to the time you were placed in handcuffs on board the police patrol boat approximately two hours later?"
"That is correct." Prescott answered, his face seeming to cloud over with a concerted effort to try and remember what had occurred. The man's continuing claim that he suddenly came do wn with a convenient case of amnesia due to a temporary bout of insanity still made Brian shake his head in total disgust and made Justin's stomach churn. A sour taste of bile rose in the blond's throat as he thought of how Prescott could be so cavalier and unfeeling about what he had done, as he totally turned his world upside down and almost cost him his life in the process. Any feelings of respect or affection he might have had for Prescott had long ago died away as he understood all too clearly just what type of man Prescott was, and the lengths he had gone to in his pursuit of him. It also made him appreciate and love even more the man sitting beside him that had stood by him through the whole ordeal.
"Mr. Prescott," Greg said, unable to hide the utter scorn now from his voice, "Don't you think it's mighty convenient that you developed an inexplicable case of memory lapse just as Mr . Taylor's very life was placed in jeopardy?"
"You can call it what you want, Mr. Matthe ws, but I can't change what happened, OR explain it. I would never do anything that would place Justin in any danger."
Brian had to literally cap his hand over his mouth to prevent the loud snort that would have escaped at Prescott's statement. The NERVE of this man was astounding. You'd better hope I never get you alone again, you asshole, or there won't BE any need for a jury verdict.
Matthews again sighed – he realized this slick, arrogant bastard was not going to change his contention that he was temporarily incapacitated during the most critical events of Justin's torment. He was going to have to hold ou t hope that the jury would see through Prescott's treachery and outline just how preposterous the man's story was during his closing arguments.
"Your Honor," he finally decided. "I have no further questions of this witness."
"The witness may step down," the judge instructed him, as Prescott confidently departed from the chair to retake his place at Sinclair's side, a slight smile on his lips as he looked over at his attorney, who in turn nodded slightly in satisfaction.
Rapping his gavel on the desk, the judge declared a trial break for lunch, as spectators reporting for the press corps rushed from the room to announce the latest bit of juicy testimony from the accused.
Greg motioned for his client and Brian to join him toward the back of the courtroom, secluded enough from the prying eyes and ears of others in attendance. "That didn't go as well as I would have hoped," he admitted to them reluctantly. "The man is smooth, I'll give him that. Sinclair has obviously coached him well."
"Yeah, coached him on how to spout total bullshit!" Brian snarled. "Does he really think a jury is going to believe that fucking nonsense?" he asked the attorney. Justin stood next to his partner, the weariness threatening to overtake him again. How he wished this were all over. It seemed like an eternity since he had first m e t Prescott, instead of a year and a half. He wished to hell he ha d never met the man, and now his and Brian's life, as well as Prescott's, would soon be in the hands of 12 total strangers.
Trying to sound more confident and upbeat, Greg turned to both men and assured them, "Our best shot is going to be during the closing arguments. I can't wait to pummel that bastard's outrageous claims and show the jury just how monumentally impossible it would be to plan what he did and be insane at the time. Before I get through," he vowed, "everyone will know just what a calculating, devious prick the man is."
Justin briefly closed his eyes, almost in silent prayer. "I hope you're right, Greg. This trial has been one surprise after another." Smiling wistfully a little, he indicated, "I appreciate everyt hing you've done, but at this point I can't say I have any fucking idea how this is going to turn out," he said, clearly frustrated. "And I have a feeling YOU don't, either," he added, pointedly, as both he and Brian peered at him.
"No, I guess I don't, gentlemen," Matthews answered truthfully. "I usually have a strong feeling one way or the other how a trial is going. I think the manual was thrown out on this one, though."
"Mr. Sinclair," Judge Mason stated, "Are you ready for presentation of closing arguments?"
"Yes, Your Honor," Sinclair confirmed, as he stood to address the jury.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, my client, Lane Prescott, has worked fervently for several years to develop his father's company into a strong, vital, and powerful conglomerate. Furthermore, from a personal perspective, he is obviously an attractive, intelligent, and resourceful man who wields a great deal of influence in his field. My client undoubtedly co uld have his pick of ANY man. He certainly does NOT have to resort to drugging and kidnapping an unwilling participant to obtain companionship. The absurdity of this accusation is re adily apparent, ladies and gentlemen. Why would my client risk everything he has obtained for the affections of one particular man?
My client's expert witness, Dr. Stevens, has previously testified that it is quite possible for a person to develop a temporary break from the real world during situations of great stress; my client is a vital p articipant in an environment that is demanding and always evolving, no doubt provoking periods of constant challenge and risk.
There has been no attempt to deny that Mr. Prescott was involved at the time Mr. Taylor was drugged and taken against his will onboard my client's yacht. However, the only logical explanation for this aberrant behavior has to be that he was temporarily not in control of his actions at the time. That is the only explanation why a man of Mr. Prescott's stature would act in this matter and risk everything he has accomplished. I am certain, ladies and gentlemen, that when you examine all the facts, you will be in agreement with me and return with a decision of not guilty by reason of insanity. Thank you for your time and rapt attention to this matter." Smiling in satisfaction of his performance, Sinclair took his seat, looking over at his colleague in a silent challenge.
Justin silently jiggled his hands on his knees; he was teeming with nervous energy now that the trial was coming to it s conclusion. He was anxious to see what Greg would say in his closing arguments. Please help him to say the right thing, he prayed. We won't get another chance. As h e looked over at his partner, Brian reached to take his hand, his face echoing the same concern as well as hope.
"Mr. Matthews? Are you ready for your closing arguments?" Mason inquired.
"Yes, Your Honor," Greg answered confidently. Standing up, he walked toward the jury, stopping to face them, his hands behind his back as if in deep thought. After a few seconds, he began his plea. "Ladies and Gentlemen, my esteemed colleague would have you believe that a man of the defendant's prestige in the community would have no need to pursue an unwilling partner in his personal life . That any abnormal behavior on his client's part could only be attributed to a temporary break with reality. That there is NO way his client could be responsible for this horrifying behavior, nor would there be any NEED.
Well, ladies and gentlemen, that is a very convenient story , don't you think? What Mr. Sinclair fails to account for is something very simple that he has overlooked: human emotion. Yes, Mr. Prescott is a very powerful, influential man who is certainly very attractive . There's no argument with that at all. But in life it doesn't matter whether you are a homeless beggar or a multi-millionaire if you become obsessed with another person and want that person at all costs. That is precisely what happened here, ladies and gentlemen. OBSESSION, pure and simple.
Let me lay out all the facts for you that my esteemed colleague has seen fit to gloss over: His client paid $50,000 for a painting of Mr. Taylor's with the stipulation that he have dinner with him. My client, eager to obtain such an astronomical amount for a very worthwhile charity, agreed to the unusual condition and followed through on his commitment. And yes, Mr. Taylor has readily admitted that he was impressed and flattered by Mr. Prescott 's attention initially. But the defendant would NOT be deterred in his quest to win my client's affections, even when Mr. Taylor told him unequivocally he was NOT interested after the second date. Instead of bowing out gracefully, however, this man not only tried to restrain my client from leaving his private jet, but continued to pursue him over a year later with unwanted gifts and very personal, intimate notes.
He also arranged for a friend to divert Mr. Taylor's partner to Chicago f or several days while he continued to work on another type of subterfuge to get Mr. Taylor to fly to Lancaster on a pretense of obtain ing a commission for his work. Mr. Prescott also hire d a private detective to take photos of Mr. Taylor at a gallery showing, and has admitted to a long-standing business relationship with the detective, despite his protestations that he had nothing to do with Mr. Kingsley pretending to me a business associate of Mr. Kinney's when he cancelled the security detail.
Then he arranged to be at the restaurant in Lancaster to have a private lunch with Mr. Taylor, where he just HAPPENED to have his yacht conveniently moored nearby during the time my client was drugged and fell unconscious. But he now claims he remembers nothing of the most critical events that occurred? That he just HAPPENS to have developed temporary insanity and amnesia during the most horrifying time of Mr. Taylor and his partner's lives? And did the GHB just HAPPEN to appear in Mr. Taylor's drink by magic? Really, ladies and gentlemen. What I suggest to you, instead, is a much more insidious scenario: that despite Mr. Prescott's intelligence and business acumen, and his ability to attract a hoard of admirers, he simply fell prey to a very basic human emotion: infatuation . He used his power and influence to relentlessly pursue a man he had become totally captivated and fascinated with, and he was determined that no thing would stand in his way of his obsession . That he would do whatever it took, whatever MONEY and lies it took, to accomplish his goal, even if it cost my client his life. That may not have been his intention, but no matter. The end result would have been the same, if not for the quick intervention of Mr. Taylor's partner."
Pacing back and for th now in front of the jury, Greg forcefully wrapped up his arguments by stating, "So, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I am asking you to sound a loud and clear message to the defendant. A m essage that you do NOT believe this fairy tale he and his attorney have concocted of temporary insanity and will instead do the right thing by delivering a guilty verdict on all charges. Thank you."
Matthews couldn't help glancing over at Prescott as he walked back to his chair to sit down; he wasn't surprised to still see the same smug, conceited look on the man's face, even now. Well, let's see how smug you look after the jury returns with their verdict.
Justin and Brian he ld their breath as the judge instructed the jury on proper deliberation procedures, before his raised his gavel to announce, "This trial is in recess until the verdict is reached." As the jury was escorted to the deliberation room, the spectators milled around the room, each group expressing their opinion as to what the outcome would be.
Looking over at his partner, who had remained absolutely silent during the closing arguments, Brian asked softly, "Justin? What are you thinking, Sunshine?"
Justin raised his hands to pull them away from his face, his elbows propped on his knees. As his eyes turned toward the man he loved, he replied, "I don't really know WHAT I'm feeling. Apprehension, worry, maybe a little hope that this could almost be over? I feel like our lives have been in limbo since Prescott came back . And I don't feel like we can start living again until he's OUT of our lives – for good." Sighing, he added, "I just want all of this to be over with, Brian."
"I know. And it WILL be, Justin," he said determinedly. "I think Greg did a good job in his closing arguments," he pointed out hopefully.
"Yeah, he did. But Sinclair was pretty persuasive, too, you know." Standing up to stretch some of his tired muscles, the blond extended a hand to his partner. "I am SO tired – tired physically and tired mentally of being in this courtroom, day in and day out. Let's get OUT of here, Brian. I can't stand just waiting around, hoping the jury will come back soon. I can't handle that – I have to get out of here," he repeated.
Brian reached to grasp the slender hand. "I'm all yours, Sunshine," he assured the other man, placing his hand around the other's waist. "Let's go home and work out some of our stress together. I'm sure Greg will call the minute they've reached a verdict."
Smiling as he placed his head momentarily on Brian's chest, Brian cradled his own head on top of Justin's for a few se conds, before the two walked hand in hand out the side door of the courtroom.