Separation Anxiety
Chapter 9
At Rikers, the guard behind the desk stared expressionless at Mike, sliding a clip board across the desk. Already familiar with the routine, Mike signed in and then handed him his wallet, sunglasses, BlackBerry and keys in exchange for a visitor's pass. Putting on the badge, Mike was then brought into one of the enclosed visitor's rooms.
Wearing the ubiquitous orange jumpsuit, Tim Brantley was already seated, wearing an expression of defeat despite his air of wealth. Slumped down in his chair, he peered over at Mike, who had taken a seat across the table from him. A scowl crossed the young man's face upon recognition.
"Hey, you're that damn lawyer that's prosecuting me!" Tim accusingly pointed at him just as the barred doors clanged shut.
"Mr. Brantley, I suggest you treat me with more respect," warned Mike, his hands folded in front of him, "after all, I might be the only thing standing between you and freedom."
Tim appeared puzzled, "What the hell do you mean? Your office is the reason why I'm stuck in here!"
"It's true that the circumstantial evidence points to you," Mike stated calmly, "but I'm beginning to have doubts as to your guilt."
That got his attention. The dour expression on Tim's face changed immediately to one of surprise, "Really?"
"...but unfortunately, not enough to dismiss the case," Mike quickly added, "therefore I need to hear your side of the story."
"My side of the story?" Tim repeated, looking as though he were in a fog.
"Regarding the night you allegedly ran over someone or something," Mike explained, "the true story, which means you need to cut out the lies."
Tim threw his hands up in an act of surrender.
"Hell, I don't remember much about that night," he admitted.
"What exactly do you remember of that night?" Mike asked.
He shrugged, "Actually nothing. I don't even remember driving home that night...honest! it's like I blacked out!"
Mike furrowed his brow, "So driving home that night was a complete blank?"
Tim nodded miserably.
"Man, I know it sounds like a lie but I swear I don't remember driving at all," Tim continually shook his head in defeat, "When the police questioned me, I didn't want to get into any more trouble so I told them I remembered driving straight home and going to bed but I didn't remember any of it!"
"Okay," Mike nodded, taking him at his word, "Then what time did you eventually wake up from this world of blankness Mr. Brantley?"
Tim scrunched his face, as if he were struggling to remember, "I don't know...four? No...closer to five a.m. I could barely read the clock because my head felt so heavy."
"So you didn't feel sick from all that drinking at the party?" Mike asked.
"Sick?" Tim shook his head, "Not really...I just felt so out of," he then looked directly at Mike, "And you know what the strangest part was, when I woke up?"
"I can't imagine what it could be," Mike wanted to know.
"When I got up, my shoes were off and neatly placed next to the bed; Like, I don't remember doing that at all! Wouldn't you think on that night, with the condition I was in, that I would have just flopped on the bed with everything that I had on?"
That was rather odd that his shoes were meticulously placed next to the bed, Mike thought.
"So as far as you know, no one else was at the house that morning when you got in from the party?" Mike asked.
Tim shrugged, "Well, no one was suppose to be there; the servants had the night off and Uncle and Auntie had already left for Mexico. But, then again, who knows? I was out cold."
"And you have no remembrance of anything that happened, from after the party until you woke up?" Mike questioned.
"Nothing...it's like it's been erased from my brain!" he looked dejectedly at Mike, "Does it sound like I'm going crazy?"
"No, Mr. Brantley " Mike slowly theorized, "From what you've described, it's beginning to sound more as if you've been drugged."
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Mike felt stifled being in that small prison room. He couldn't wait to be out in the sunshine again. As he walked away from Rikers, he determined that he would never commit a crime, although he had already committed the crime of loneliness.
As he made his way to his car, his steps slowed when he spotted an attractive, familiar-looking woman approaching him.
No, please not her.
But it was.
Heather Brantley was walking towards the prison and when she caught a glimpse of Mike, a big smile spread across her face. If Mike didn't know any better it was as if her walk now had an extra sway in her hips as she approached him. Obviously confident in her own attractiveness, she seemed to preen when she was at last standing in front of him. She angled her breast upward as she looked Mike up and down.
"Mr. Cutter, so nice to see you," she posed, as if she expected Mike to be admiring her also. Instead, Mike couldn't help wondering why some strikingly lovely women were so self-absorbed while others chose to be hard working dedicated public servants.
"Just following up on some facts regarding Tim Brantley," Mike explained succinctly.
"Well, in case you're wondering, I'm here to make one of my many generous visits to see my incarcerated nephew," she seemed to almost expect applause, "I suppose Tim told you the same thing he told me...that he didn't remember a thing?"
"Yes, so I'm looking into other avenues," Mike stated evenly.
"Oh? And what would that be?" she asked in a way that somehow sounded flirtatious although it was just a question, "Perhaps you'd like to discuss it with me...over an intimate lunch?"
Wow, Mike thought, she must be an apparition because he could see right through her.
"Unfortunately, I'm not at liberty to discuss the case," Mike said trying to sound diplomatic, "so as you can see, a lunch would not serve a purpose, which is really for the best. There's a lot I need to do if I'm to either decide the guilt or innocence of your nephew. I'm sure you'd understand, Mrs. Brantley, being that your nephew is utmost on your mind."
Heather's eyes widened when she realized that not only was she coming off self centered, she had just been indirectly rejected. A red blush covered her cheeks which was in sharp contrast to the lightness of her blonde hair and pale skin.
"Of course, Mr. Cutter," she stated coolly, "I just hope that working a case is not the only thing that you do well."
Mike did not even bother to respond as he walked past her.
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While Mike had been gone, Connie had the idea to perhaps interview the hostess of the party that Tim Brantley had attended the night he had allegedly hit the victim with his car. She had driven over to the hostess's mansion and when she got what she came for, she headed back to the office. Connie had just arrived back to her desk and was quickly scribbling some additional notes when Jack entered her office.
"I see Mike has you working this Brantley case, too" Jack stated, "I thought when I handed this case over to him, it was going to be an open and shut case. I hope the fact that the Brantleys having more money than God is not the reason why we can't seem to get a conviction!"
"Not at all, Jack. As you know, sometimes things aren't what they seem," Connie cautioned him, "turns out that Tim Brantley may not have run over the victim, Larry Carson, after all."
"More surprises? Great, I'll break out the champagne," Jack did not look happy, "So what's the latest delay?"
"I just finished talking with Jean Sullivan, the lady who had thrown the party that Tim Brantley had attended at the night of this car accident."
"Don't tell me, " Jack said, "Another guy had stolen Brantley's keys and driven off in the car?"
"No, " Connie responded, "Not quite."
Jack looked confused, "but you said you didn't think Brantley ran over a body. Yet we definitely have a victim. Are you saying that Larry Carson just fatally lacerated off his face on the pavement of his own free will?"
"Nothing as gruesome as that," Connie claimed, "the hostess of the party believed it wasn't another male who ran over Carson."
Jack stared at her in disbelief, "I hope you're going to say it was a woman, because if it was a bear that night, I want to prosecute the case!"
"Yes, a woman," Connie stated with a half-smile, "Ms. Sullivan claimed that she saw a very drunk Tim Brantley leave with a woman. And it was the woman who had the keys in her hand."
"What woman?" Jack inquired.
Connie had her suspicions regarding Katherine Scott, but she needed more evidence before she could disclose it to the DA.
She shrugged, "Some young woman no one knew. Dark chestnut hair. Rather a mousy description. Ms. Sullivan had noticed at the party that the woman was giving a sympathetic ear to Brantley all night. So there's a chance that someone else hit pedestrian Larry Carson that evening."
Jack nodded, "While I'd like to say job well done, it pains me to see another case dragged out, draining my manpower and money."
"Since when are you all about the money, Jack?" Connie said.
"Since this has become a re-election year!" he admitted, "I hate all this political stuff, but without it I wouldn't even be at this job!"
"Don't worry," Connie assured him with a smile, "Once the elections are over and you are the DA again, you can go back fighting for justice and the American way!"
"Hmmph!" Jack guffawed, before he looked into Mike's office, "Speaking of justice, where is Mike? Don't tell me he took an early night off... on taxpayers expense, no less!"
Connie explained that Mike had gone to talk with the accused, Tim Brantley, at Rikers.
"So you two decided to work separately now?" Jack inquired, "I think the last time you two worked separately was when a blue moon was out."
"We've decided on the divide- and -conquer method of investigating," Connie ad-libbed.
"That particular phrase originated from Julius Caesar, you know," Jack said, "And look what happened to him."
Connie got his point about Caesar being murdered but still commented, "Are you referring to him becoming one of the most successful generals in history?"
Jack looked askance at her, wondering what was really up between his two prosecutors, but deciding it really wasn't his business, "No, but go with that story if it will help you get a conviction for this case!"
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Please review.
(A/N: Thank you for all the input! I think I know where I'm going with this story! :D)
(*special wave to Lolly)