As always, I do not own the Mercer boys, (except for Craig) and I profit in no way. (Except in the form of reviews)
Chapter 39: Thoughts
Jack paced back and forth in the small waiting area outside the hearing room. He remembered the area from when he was a kid. It was where Family Court and more casual cases were usually held; the rooms weren't official court rooms but they still had the look and feel of authority, at least to a juvenile offender, or foster kid sitting next to a case worker about to hear a decision about where he was going to be living. When he was very young one of his first case workers told him the atmosphere was supposed to be more relaxed than a court room so that people wouldn't feel intimidated.
Well it didn't work, Jack had felt more intimidated in one of those damn hearing rooms than he'd ever felt in a regular court room. At least in a court room it was open to the public and no one could corner you without witnesses. Here, the doors were closed and everything was supposed to be confidential and hush-hush. Hell, a person could disappear from one of those damn hearing rooms, never be heard of again and no one would know what happened to them. Jack suddenly wished this whole thing could be taken care of in an open courtroom with lots and lots of people around to watch. The way things had been going for the Mercers lately, he needed all the witnesses he could get.
The younger Mercer gave his head a slight shake as he paced across the hard wood. He was thinking too much. His eyes fell on Jerry, who was sitting on the wooden bench up against the wall next to the hall leading out to the lobby, he was as far away from the door Jack was pacing in front of as he could get and still be sitting with his head resting back and his eyes closed. Jerry had insisted they get there early, said it would look good. So they had gotten there twenty minutes before ten and the hearing was supposed to be at ten. It was now twenty after and they were still waiting. Robert had called Jerry's cell phone and told him that he was on his way, he'd been in contact with the District Attorney, and he assured Jerry that there was nothing to worry about, but Jack couldn't get rid of the bees buzzing around in his chest. He wanted a cigarette, but he couldn't go out to get one, he'd already signed in with the bailiff and there was no way anyone would let him out of the building until after the hearing, and then only if the judge decided the charges against him were bullshit.
The judge could very well decide there was a reason to haul his ass back to jail and follow through with the charges Harris had raised against him. Especially since Harris was now dead and that was going to have to be explained. Yeah, everyone was saying that Harris' true agenda had been exposed and that Winston's statement would back them up on that. Green had said there was no way the charges could stick. It had been proven that Jack obviously had no choice but to shoot Adam Macks, and no matter how Harris had tried to twist the truth around to his own liking, there just wasn't any way for the man to manipulate facts enough to make Jack look like a cold blooded killer. That didn't mean Harris didn't have some kind of evidence that he was sure would back up his case. He must have had something or he wouldn't have started the whole process, would he?
Again Jack thought of the Mercer luck and envisioned a miracle video tape of Jack shooting Macks being presented to the judge as evidence. Of course his imagination kicked in as his brain invented the images that might be on a video of that nature. It was bound to show Macks cowering in front of him, begging for his life, and Bobby standing behind him, "Get him Jackie Poo! Show that fucker who the real man is, little sister!" Jack shook his head in an attempt to get rid of Bobby's voice and the image completely so that he could get back to reasonable thinking.
Maybe Harris had simply been trying to distract the Mercers, give them something else to deal with so that he could make whatever move he thought he needed to make. Maybe it had all been an empty threat, just like everyone kept saying, and Jack really didn't have anything to worry about, he wasn't sure. Thinking about it all only brought about more confusion, and doubt about his chances. He needed to stop thinking, but he couldn't turn off his brain, and if he stopped analyzing the whole mess the stupid images and Bobby's voice would just take over again.
When Angel called earlier, he'd said that Green and Johnson had been at the hospital taking statements from him and everyone who had been shot or grazed by bullets, at least the men who were still breathing. That meant Bobby, Johnny and Winston. Angel was currently trying to get the doctor to heavily sedate Bobby to keep his ass there, but the doctor seemed to think a head injury and a sedative didn't go well together; obviously he didn't know Bobby Mercer or he may have rethought that hypothesis. Bobby needed to stay in the hospital and get the medical attention, but just like with his ribs, he wouldn't listen to anyone. He wanted to get out of the hospital and come with Angel to the courthouse. It wasn't as if he could control what was going to happen, yet in his mind he had to be there or it just wouldn't work out in their favor, or in this case, in Jack's favor.
Angel had planned on leaving the hospital as soon as he could either get Bobby sedated, or manage to sneak away and leave him to the nurses to try to control. He hadn't checked in since, so maybe he had managed something and was on his way now. Jack hoped so, because he really needed something to distract him, and it didn't look hopeful that Jerry was going to help in that area. He looked over to the bench again, where Jerry seemed to be resting.
He felt for Jerry, the man was stressed and tired. He had his own home and family and everything he'd been doing for his brothers seemed to conflict with what he should have been doing for the wife and daughters who were depending on him. That just made for more stress; something that was made quite obvious late the night before, or maybe early this morning would be a better reference. Jerry was feeling pulled in too many directions and it was catching up to him.
As if he could see Jack looking in his direction through his closed eye lids Jerry mumbled words just loud enough for Jack to hear, "Jackie, do me a favor, would ya?"
"What." Jack spoke without realizing it; Jerry was going to try to have some kind of deep, meaningful talk and he wasn't sure he was up to it. He preferred clearing his head of his problems for the time being, if he could manage to stop thinking about them and get his brain spinning around something else. He looked away from his brother as he spun on his heels and paced back across the wooden floor. He wondered how old the floor was, and why they hadn't used tile. Tile would have taken less maintenance than the high polished wood; and couldn't they come up with another color besides beige for the walls? Really, if they wanted people to feel at ease, you would think they could come up with something a little more cheerful.
"Be still for five minutes." Jerry's tone was even and steady.
Jack's feet stopped and he shifted his body around to face his brother. "I can't." He shook his head, even though he knew Jerry couldn't see him with his eyes closed. "If I stop moving, I'll start thinking too much." Actually he was already thinking too much, but he didn't need to state that fact, he was afraid it would only stress Jerry out more.
Jerry let his left eye crack open enough to look up at Jack. "It's gonna be okay Jack. Harris never had a case against you. Robert said he'd been in contact with the District Attorney and he didn't seem worried at all; he'd tell us if the man was gonna pursue this. He said it was under control and there was nothing to worry about. You know, I take that to mean the D.A. ain't interested in wasting time and money on a case that is impossible for them to win. That means they don't believe you are guilty of murder."
"I killed the man Jerr'." Jack swallowed hard. He hated guns and the idea that he had ended another life, no matter how horrible a person Macks was, was a fact he would have to face every day. Bobby was alive though, and that's what he tried to focus on when he thought about his actions just a few days earlier. "I never lied about it. They have that fact and that's all they need, when it comes right down to it. They can twist it around to make it seem like murder if they decide to." He forced himself to voice the worry that was grinding at the back of his skull.
"You don't know if you killed him. You shot him, but no one really knows if you killed him. He was run over by a car, remember? And you only fired the gun because he was about to shoot Bobby. The cops and the D.A. have the evidence of what he'd done to Craig; they know he was a crazy son of a bitch who faked his death and that he was up to no good. Jordan has told them all kinds of shit, you know he has." Jerry sighed as he pulled himself away from the wall, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Both eyes were now open wide. "Winston's back from the dead too, remember? Whatever Winston tells them, it will back up everything we have told the cops; that man would be an idiot if he lied now. Green and Johnson both knew what was going on the whole time, we were working with them, their word is gonna mean more than anything a dirty, fucked up, aging federal agent could come up with. You just keep on tellin' the truth Jack, because that's gonna be what saves you. Yes, you shot him, and if you did kill him, it was not murder, that man forced you to pull that trigger. If you hadn't, there's no telling how many of us might have died that day, Bobby for sure, Craig, and maybe Angel."
Jack thought about Jerry's words. "Wait, why not you?" He shook his head.
"'Cause I'm too good looking and I've got an amazing wife and two beautiful daughters; and God likes me." Jerry let a small grin form. He still looked tired, but not nearly as bad as he had earlier that morning. The stress seemed to lift a little when he spoke about his family.
Jack nodded his head, "And why not me?" He questioned when he realized Jerry hadn't included him in his list.
"You were the one with the gun Jack." Jerry allowed his grin to spread.
Jack walked over and sat next to Jerry. Talking was distracting, and he needed all the distraction he could get at the moment. "It's been one hell of a night Jerry." He muttered.
"That it has. It almost feels like one long dream. Most of it doesn't feel like real. Does it?" Jerry turned to look at Jack.
"It feels like it happened, but it's so, I don't know, I feel like I'm detached from it." Jack kept his voice quiet. "I'm worried about Bobby, and about Craig."
"Yeah, well you don't need to. Craig's with Camille. He was sleeping like a baby when I left. And with any luck, Bobby's tied down to a hospital bed, giving all those beautiful nurses hell for not letting him leave." Jerry reached out and gave Jack a pat on the arm. "Right now, you're the one we're worried about."
Jack let Jerry's words sink in for a long moment. "I thought you just said there was no reason to worry, that it was all under control." he challenged.
"I lied to you Jack. Ain't you figured out yet that's what big brothers do?" The grin faded from Jerry's face. "Seriously, just because we know the truth, and we've got plenty of cops and witnesses to back us up, that don't mean that you ain't in deep shit, man. Yeah, we're worried. Why do you think Angel was having such a hard time keeping Bobby at the hospital? But Ma taught us to have faith too. So have a little faith. Just be thankful I'm the one here with you now, and not Bobby, 'cause he'd be giving you all kinds of hell."
As if on cue a commotion rose at the end of the long hall and an all too familiar voice echoed off the walls as if it was bouncing around in a tunnel. "What the fuck kind of shit is that? Who the hell said I couldn't come past this point?" Jack looked at Jeremiah and shook his head slowly, allowing his self to fall into a state of denial until the echo picked up again, "Of course I'm bleeding you asshole I've been shot!"
"I thought Angel was going to try to keep him at the hospital?" Jack moaned.
Jerry laughed quietly, though it was easy to see irritation behind his eyes. "You know Bobby, if they didn't sedate him, there wasn't much Angel could do. I'm surprised they got here this quick though, I just talked to Angel about twenty minutes ago and he was trying to sneak out of the hospital then."
"My brothers are in there, I've got to be in there." Bobby's voice rose in volume.
Jack and Jeremiah both leaned forward and turned their heads to look down the hall that led to the open lobby where the security desk was located. Bobby was walking towards them, accompanied by the same uniformed bailiff who had checked them in when they arrived. He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn all night, mud and guck had dried in a thin layer, though it was evident he had actually washed at the hospital. His head had a bandage taped to it. His face looked pale with no color. A big grin was etched across his mouth, proud of himself, no doubt, for managing to make it past the security checkpoint.
"Is this one with you?" The bailiff looked at Jeremiah when he asked the question, apparently thinking the man looked like he was in charge. Jack figured it was the tie and suit his brother sported. Jeremiah had told him appearance was going to go a long way. Not just Jack's, his supporters needed to look civilized too. Well, his point was reinforced by Bobby's present appearance and the doubtful expression on the bailiff's face.
Jack glanced down at the borrowed tie he had snagged from Angel's room; yep he needed to buy a few of those for himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if they came in black leather but he didn't have long to dwell on the thought before he was pulled back to the situation in front of him.
"Yeah, he's one of us." Jerry grinned as he claimed Bobby. "Sorry for his attitude, he's had a rough morning, being shot and all." He looked at Bobby and gave him a threatening glare.
The bailiff let out a huff before he turned and walked back up the hall without saying another word.
"Making friends again Bobby?" Jack stood to give his older brother a place to sit.
"Stupid son of bitch thought I was some thug off the street trying to make trouble." Bobby muttered as he sat down. The gash in the side of his head had been bandaged with thick gauze and tape, but blood had spotted and dried around it.
"How could anyone take you for a thug?" Jerry asked with a chuckle. He glanced back in the direction of the hallway. "Where is Angel? Parking the car?"
"Hell if I know. He went for coffee at the hospital and I ditched his ass. Son of bitch tried to get the fuckin' doctor to shoot me full of shit to make me sleep. I had to get out of there. I got a taxi, and man, he was all for breaking every traffic law in the books just to get my sorry ass out of the back of his car." Bobby managed a grin at his own hint that he'd been a real ass to the driver. He looked up at Jack. "How are you doin'? You okay?"
"I'm fine." Jack felt his legs twitch and gave into the urge to start his pacing again.
Jerry's phone rang, echoing off the walls with no warning, causing Jack to flinch. The man dug into his pocket and chuckled softly when he seen the number. "Angel." He muttered as he answered it. "Yeah, where in the hell are you?" He grinned and listened for a short time. "The hospital called ya? No, don't go back there to find Bobby, he's a big boy and he can take care of himself; there's no reason to feel guilty. Just park the car and get in here. It could start any minute." He looked at Jack and then Bobby.
Robert came into view at that moment, walking down the hall Bobby had just come down. He was grinning as he approached, until he seen Bobby sitting next to Jeremiah. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in the hospital."
"Angel, just park the car and get your ass in the courthouse." Jerry flipped his phone closed as he stood. "So what do you know?" His attention quickly focused on the attorney standing in front of him.
Jack found himself standing next to Robert but he wasn't sure how he got there. "What exactly did the D.A. say? You don't seem too worried, but you didn't tell us much before, do you know what they are planning on doing?" He didn't know where all of the questions were coming from as they spilled from his mouth. "What do you think the Judge will do today, what exactly did Harris have that he was able to bring it this far? Do you think…?"
"Jack, please calm down." Robert's left hand gripped a brief case, but his right hand came up and gave Jack a gentle pat on the arm. "Your mother was right, you do get excited easily." He let out a small sigh.
Bobby's eye brows rose slightly at the mention of their mother, Jack could see the man's temper starting to flicker. "Yeah, he's always a bundle of fucking nerves when he's facing murder charges." He spoke sarcastically.
Robert walked over to the bench and let his brief case rest where Jeremiah had been sitting. "The District Attorney has no intention of pursuing this. This hearing is merely a necessary formality. Mr. Porter should be here any minute. We have a good Judge too; he's not one that's easily swayed by outside influence."
"Meaning with any luck no one has managed to buy him off, right?" Bobby started to stand but only made it half way to his feet before he swayed slightly and fell back to the bench.
"I know this man. Once he knows the facts and we fill him in on what we've found out about Harris, well, it's impossible this farce could be permitted to proceed." Robert's cheerful voice seemed to cancel out the heaviness that had been residing in Jack's chest since he had been arrested the day before. He hadn't even realized he was feeling as bogged down as he was until that moment, when it lifted. Robert was telling them there was nothing to worry about, and he was cheerful and happy, borderline giddy if Jack had to try to think of a way to describe it.
"How can you be sure this is gonna go down smooth?" Jerry's strained voice interrupted Jack's relief.
"Nothing is ever this easy unless someone is getting money passed to them." Bobby spoke up. Jack felt the worry trying to creep back into his bones. Damn his brothers anyway. Couldn't they let him feel good about his chances?
"Bobby, believe it or not, sometimes the law works and the truth is all you need. Well, so long as you have the evidence to back you up that is, and we have that evidence." Robert's smile was weak, but it was there.
The four men were quiet for a long while. Jack started pacing again, but the silence was too heavy for him think.
"Mr. Bradford, can I ask you a question?" Bobby's gruffness broke the silence after what felt like hours.
"Of course," Robert nodded his head.
"Why the hell have you stuck with us through all the shit that's gone down?" Bobby snapped the words quickly. He sounded irritated, and it threw Jack off balance for a short second. Why the hell would Bobby decide to ask Robert a question like that now? He ended his pacing next to the bench, praying Bobby didn't start some stupid shit. That was the last thing he needed right then.
Robert opened his mouth to speak, but Angel chose that moment to call out from the end of the hall. He was with Green and Johnson.
Angel looked at Bobby and shook his head slowly, "Damn, you asshole!" He called out, but he grinned wide. He stopped at the other end of the bench and looked over at Jack. "You doin' okay Jackie Poo?"
Green and Johnson both looked as tired and worn down as the Mercers. Green was holding several thick folders in his hands and was about to say something when Mr. Porter appeared at the end of the hall behind them. "Well gentlemen," he spoke cheerfully as he got closer, "this shouldn't take too long."
The wooden door Jack had been pacing in front of for the past forty five minutes opened with no warning, causing him to start slightly. The rest of his life was on the line. Once he stepped through that door, there was no going back to Bobby's back up plan of running. A uniformed bailiff looked at the small group. "Jack Mercer?"
Jack nodded his head and tried to speak, but the sound that escaped was a squeaky croak. He wished Evelyn there right now to take that first step with him. He felt like a small child wanting his mother, but he couldn't help it. He looked at Robert. He had to trust this man with his future. Robert was the only one among them who understood the intricacies of the courts and how the law would or could work for them. He had stuck with the Mercers through a lot of shit lately.
It was at that moment that Jack understood Bobby's question. The man didn't really know the Mercers, but he had stood by them through everything that had happened; and now he was there, offering a kind of support that none of them were used to. Jack was also sure he could answer Bobby's question himself. He understood why Robert was there. It was because he had truly loved Evelyn Mercer. They'd had a real relationship and therefore, he'd probably had to listen to stories about her sons and all the bullshit they had thrown at her over the years. They had been a real couple and with that realization Jack felt a calmness fill his chest that he hadn't felt since he'd picked up the phone to hear Jerry's voice telling him his mother was dead. It felt nice having someone on his side that had been close to his mother in a way different than his brothers. It almost felt as if he had a parent with him. He looked at Robert and nodded his head slowly. Through Robert, Evelyn was still there with him, supporting him. Jack forced his brain to shake off his thoughts, grabbed hold of the front of Robert's coat and gave him a slight push forward, "Move."
Robert flashed Jack a weak smile, obviously surprised by the force behind the younger man's word, and walked through the door ahead of him. Jack sucked in a deep breath and tried to work up the nerve to follow Robert. In just a few minutes, he was going to find out if he was going to spend the rest of his life behind bars or walk out a free man.
"Fuck, Angel, don't hold my hand. You want some of that action go talk to your little sister over there." Bobby's voice was quiet but Jack refused to turn and look at what was taking place behind him. He could imagine Angel trying to help Bobby to his feet, the idiot was struggling against vertigo and unconsciousness; and he obviously wasn't accepting assistance from any one. "I don't need anyone fucking walking me in.….wait, just don't get too far ahead of me. And don't grab me; just let me lean a little."
Jack closed his eyes for a long moment and then stepped into the hearing room to face what was coming. Damn, he wanted a cigarette.