Date: Sun, 2 Apr 2017 02:40:17 +0000 (UTC)
From: jim ford <sojourn1950@yahoo.com>
Subject: Change of Heart chapter fifteen

This story is fiction.

The characters are adults in adult situations.

Warnings: The only person you can ever hope to truly know is
yourself. Trust no one; use condoms.

If you are not of legal age or in a jurisdiction in which this document is
illegal, go way.

This is my story. Please respect the copyright. If you enjoy it, let me
know.


Please donate to Nifty. Surely these tales are worth, at least, the price
of a car wash.

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Author's Note: I have posted this chapter as soon as I could. I have
received some help with beta reading and editIng. If you notice, thanks to
Jay T. I feel there is much more to this story, if you agree email me.

Jim

Sojourn1950@yahoo.com



Chapter fifteen



All too soon it was time to leave for town. Raymond had called to let them
know Joe, the attorneys and himself would meet them in the conference room
at the motel where Ilya's and Raymond's men were staying.

Upon arrival, Paul was upset to see a Sheriff's patrol car parked alongside
Raymond's Tesla. They still had more than half an hour before they had to
meet. Why the hell was he here now. Paul was in no hurry to confront the
Sheriff, especially since both he and Jeff had left their sidearms at home.



Sam and Dave were already outside perusing the parking lot before Paul had
unfastened his seatbelt. He wasn't even sure if Dave was still armed. He
looked as ready for trouble as Sam did.

Jeff knew exactly how his partner felt. Even though he had complete trust
in his Uncles, he was still on edge about the questioning and the
confrontation. He tried to reassure his partner, but it was hard when he
was convinced the Sheriff was totally unscrupulous.The relief for all of
them was palpable when they learned the patrol car had been driven by
Deputy Lovan.

Paul was surprised at the number of people in suits and business casual
that had gathered in the conference room. Most refrained from approaching.
A few, mostly the ones in expensive suits, came over to shake Jeff's hand
and welcome him home. Jeff enthusiastically, in turn, introduced Paul as
his life partner.

Deputy Lovan left just after Jeff and his group arrived. He managed a wave,
followed by two thumbs up, from across the room as he walked out.

Raymond nodded to Ilya and suddenly the conference room was cleared except
for Jeff, Paul, Joe, Raymond, Ilya, Sam, Dave, Tink sans uzi, and the
attorneys.  He introduced them to Jubal Harshaw and Jillian Dorcas. Jeff
knew both by reputation and was pleased they would be representing Paul and
Dave. Now he had a legitimate reason to be encouraged.

It had been previously decided that if, in the unlikely event, they were
questioned at the same time, Jeff and Harshaw would go with Paul while
Raymond and Jillian Dorcas went with Dave. The two groups gathered
separately at opposite ends of the conference room.



After they were seated Jubal Harshaw took over, "I need to hear your
account of yesterday's events. Just like now, I'll be sitting on your left
side. Watch me carefully. I have pretty good reflexes for a semiretired
senior citizen. If I grab your arm or if you

think I am about to grab you, simply, as you young folk often opin, `shut
the fuck up'.

"Let me help you clarify a point or statement that might have been
misconstrued by others. By others I mean those appointed and anointed to
enforce a medieval system slanted to protect the status quo or ruling
class. Lucky for you, you happen to be a classmate in good standing, as
witnessed by my presence. I don't come cheap.

"Now by misconstrued, I mean taken as an admission of guilt regarding
something as simple as breach of the peace, up to and including
premeditated murder. If left to their professional integrity, your innocent
utterance will be twisted into an already hoped for and half expected
confession of guilt. Their juvenile attempts to ingratiate themselves to a
nonexistent Neolithic deity means that, to them, everyone is guilty of
something. You may be innocent in this particular situation, but in the
course of your life you have sinned enough to deserve any punishment
rendered. It's how they sleep at night."



Jubal Harshaw spent the next half hour listening to Paul's version of
events. He only interrupted a few times and carefully explained his
reasoning each time. The majority of interruptions came because Paul was
saying too much. By the time he was through, Paul felt like his story was
stripped of any conversational value and "just the facts" remained.



Paul was grateful when Raymond's group joined them at Jeff's end of the
conference room. He directed everyone to have a seat. "Jeff, Paul, Sam and
Dave, last night Deputy Harris gave us a lot more information after y'all
left. We couldn't really verify most of it until this morning. Now, it's
important that we not show our hand too soon. We won't go into details here
and now, but there will be some surprises at this questioning. I want to
assure the four of you, we have everything under control.

"But a lot of this depends on your reactions. I am concerned that your
expressions and body language may give something away if you know too
much. You all have to trust me and my judgement. Paul, these guys know me
and know I have their backs." At this Jeff, Sam and Dave nodded and smiled
reassuringly. " I know it's a lot to ask of you; to have faith that we can
pull this off.

"There is every reason to believe that we could get away without even
showing up for the questioning until after the Sheriff is arrested. After
what we learned last night, the bastard deserves to be put away for a long
time. He's not a fool. If he suspects we're onto him, he could play this
straight and walk away with a slap on the wrist. I ran into Julie from the
diner this morning in the lobby. She told me to go with my gut and that you
would agree to follow my lead. She has never failed to give me sound
advice. So, how about it, Paul. Can you trust me?"

Paul could feel the pressure, it seemed everyone was looking at him with
hopeful expectation. Except Tink, who was studiously watching something on
his laptop.

Paul swallowed, stared into Jeff's eyes, then began, "I have been through a
lot this week. I met you, Jeff, the love of my life. My house was burned
down. I was kidnapped and almost murdered. I,, uh,, I killed a man who
tried to kill me and my daughter. And I became a member of a very loving
and apparently very rich and powerful family. "So," meeting Raymond's
questioning gaze, "do I trust you? What do you want me to do, Uncle
Raymond?"

Raymond moved around the table and pulled Paul into his arms, "I know I
said this before, but welcome to the family, Nephew."

Jubal Harshaw interjected, "It is always good to witness positive familial
dynamics, but we need to get to Oz if our little troupe of thespians is
going to expose the man behind the curtain."

Paul wasn't sure why he felt more secure, but he did. He had a family! For
the first time in a long time it wasn't just him and Maria standing alone
against "come what may." He had family at his back. Not just any family, he
had the Adams Family, fingersnap, fingersnap. (Jeff had told him about
Danny's annoying habit. Paul had laughed his ass off.)

Now, it looked like a small army had assembled in the Sheriff's Office
parking lot. Ilya took charge of his men. Immediately assigning two to wait
in the lobby with him and Tink. The rest were to maintain ready posture at
a coffee shop across the street, rotating so the vehicles were manned with
a driver at all times. Paul watched as Dave surrendered two pistols and two
nasty looking boot knives to Sam, for safe keeping.



Joe offered, "Good luck, son. I'll be waiting right here for you." Once
Jubal identified their group, the `invited guests' passed through a metal
detector and were ushered down a hallway. They passed Deputy Lovan in the
hallway, leading two sharply dressed men with white cowboy hats into a
conference room. He barely nodded in passing. That dashed Paul's hope that
he would have at least one friendly face at his inquisition.

He relaxed a little when he realized the questioning would indeed take
place in two separate rooms. Due to the holidays, the already short staffed
D. A.'s office had a scheduling conflict. The Sheriff, he guiltily hoped,
would chose to conduct Dave's session since he had pissed him off so much.

He was surprised when they were let into a spacious room with a table and
eight chairs. There was even a coffee maker in the corner with a full,
fresh pot. Too bad.  Between the house and the motel, his kidneys were
already floating. Harshaw had them take seats nearest the door. That put
them with their backs against the door. It also had the Sheriff's men
facing the obvious two way mirror. Harshaw made it clear that once they
entered the Sheriff's building, all conversation would cease. If anyone had
a question they were to write it down and hand it to him. Biological needs
could be addressed by raising a hand. Jubal Harshaw was not an easy man to
like. Respect as a professional? Yes, like? No!


As they took their seats, he broke his own rule about talking, "They
typically will lull you into a false sense of security before they ask any
really difficult questions. If you get nervous and need to calm down, just
stop talking and take a few deep breaths. For the sake of some unnamed god,
don't babble on. Simply tell your story, like you did at the motel, and
answer their questions simply.

"We are not here to make friends. If you want friends; buy Girl Scout
cookies, join a cult based upon Martian philosophy, do anything but fall
for their sophomoric attempts to friendly a confession out of you.

"I infer, from our conversation, your appearance and your profession that
you are an honest and intelligent young man. I am seldom wrong in my
estimations, unless purposely misled. Don't force me to devalue my own
masterful ability to superficially judge people by behaving like a
dunderhead during this skirmish."

Paul knew that this speech was more for the benefit of those watching
behind the two way mirror. Still, he spent his time in Jubal Harshaw's
company vacillating between utter awe and absolute disdain.

They had been forbidden to bring any recording devices with them. Paul
noticed Jubal playing with a handsome fountain pen. Jubal noted his
interest and shrugged, "Your man Tink should reconsider his profession he
would make me a great private investigator. He'd have to lose that phony
accent, but he would do well."  Even as he said this he fingered a
nondescript lapel pin.


The hair on the back of Paul's neck bristled as the door opened behind
him. He remained calm in spite of a very strong desire to stand and prepare
to fight. Once the silent group of men walked around the table, his worst
fears were realized. Standing behind the seat directly in front of him was
the "bad Sheriff". To his right was the big, handsome, courteous and
professional State Trooper. On his left was a young man, in a badly fitted
suit, that looked like he was still attending law school. This, they would
learn was the Assistant District Attorney (ADA). On the ADA's left was none
other than his honor the Mayor.



The Sheriff, still standing, introduced his side of the table. He
forestalled any objections by stating the Mayor was acting in his official
capacity as a duly appointed Auxiliary Deputy Sheriff.



Jubal stood and faced the Sheriff and introduced himself and then Jeff as
his co-counsel.



Paul silently cursed himself for looking for it. Sure enough it snaked
noticeably down the man's left leg. Paul jumped when Jeff nudged him in the
ribs, caught his eye and smiled broadly, letting Paul know he had been
caught checking out the "Daddy" Sheriff. What was worse, when he looked up
he could see the Sheriff had caught him also. Only the man didn't smile, it
was more like a silent snarl. In spite of the guilty blush, Paul was happy
to realize that truly nothing about this man sparked anything but curiosity
and loathing.

The Deputy D. A. had been well briefed or had thoroughly read Paul's
statement. He might be young, but he came across as a professional.

Copies of Paul's statement of events were provided and Paul scanned his
copy and agreed that it accurately reflected the events of the previous
morning. The ADA asked him to again go over the events leading up to the
shooting.

He started with the fire. Then told how they had disagreed with the Fire
Marshal's assessment, in light of the strange gas can, discovery of "red"
diesel as the accelerant matching the contents of said can. He went on to
explain that the gas can had been dusted for prints and contents sampled
while, he believed, it was still in Deputy Lovan's custody. At this point
the Sheriff clearly mumbled, "That bastard!"

The ADA asked, "Sheriff Johnson, you had something you wanted to ask?"

"What? No. Just thinking about the likelihood of a broken chain of
custody."

Jubal offered, "I should think not being able to make a charge of arson
prosecutable against a dead man would be in itself a moot
point... Sheriff."

The Sheriff offered Jubal his signature silent snarl. Paul's interpretation
of that look was `eat shit and die motherfucker'. He, for once, wanted to
cheer his lawyer's snooty, superior attitude.

At the ADA's urging Paul went on to point out the Fire Marshall's
insistence that the cause of the fire was faulty wiring. Ignoring the gas
can and the strange vehicle seen leaving as the fire was discovered.

Paul told about the note found on his windshield and about his daughter
repeating her conversation with Morgan. How they had found fingerprints at
his house matching those on the can and those apparently indicating he was
wanted for burglary in Idaho. They learned the local police put out an APB
on Morgan and his truck.

When he got to the part where Morgan made his presence known, he got shaky
and asked for some water.  The Sheriff nodded at the two way
mirror. Shortly a Deputy appeared and went around the table to hand the
water bottle to the Sheriff and whispered something in his ear. Paul could
tell whatever it was wasn't good for him because it made the Sheriff smile
broadly. He courteously passed the bottle to Paul. Suddenly Paul regretted
his thirst.

Paul continued his recollection yesterday's events. When he told how he
accused Morgan of being high on drugs, the Sheriff interjected, "Was that
the first time you ever saw Joshua Morgan high on drugs?"



Paul was dumbfounded by the question. Jubal grabbed his arm and addressed
the ADA, "My client has already stated that he had only the slightest
casual contact with Joshua Morgan prior to the kidnapping. The drug use was
speculation on my client's part confirmed as fact by Joshua Morgan
himself. My client had no prior knowledge of Morgan's history with drug
abuse."



With a sneer of disdain, "Counselor, apparently you don't know your client
very well. Last night I received an anonymous tip to search his vehicle. I
ordered a more thorough search of said vehicle. A vehicle which has been in
our impound lot since shortly after the shooting. The Deputy that brought
in the water told me they have discovered eight ounces of a substance
testing positive for cocaine with an estimated street of over $10,000.



"We will be taking a closer look at Morgan's residence. I'm sure the fire
and the shooting both stem from a disagreement on how to split the proceeds
from the sale of drugs."



Turning to Paul with a predatory sneer, "Well boy, Isn't it true that you
and Joshua Morgan have been distributing narcotics in this area since
shortly after his going to work at the Adams ranch? You better speak up
quick. Your new partner who took part in the killing is probably singing
like a canary hoping to avoid the death penalty."



Paul's initial reaction was to simply stare at the Sheriff in disbelief. It
only took him seconds to assimilate the accusations. His jaw steeled in
determination. "Do you think anyone will believe your trumped up
bullshit. The phony middle of the night `anonymous tip!' You probably were
stupid enough to plant those drugs yourself from your own evidence locker.



"You, sick self hating homophobic homosexual! Did you really think butt
fucking one of your Deputies had bought you his loyalty? Why do you think
he didn't call you last night after he stopped us on that dark lonely back
road. Were you going to come out and shoot us with untraceable weapons. You
probably still have them in the trunk of your patrol car. Did you intend to
make it look like a drug deal gone bad.



"Next time try using some lube before you stick that horse cock up his
ass. From the video of you fucking him in your own office, it looks like
you rammed it home bareback without a thought for his discomfort. His
screams of agony seemed to validate the whole no lube thing. With all that
begging and screaming y'all must have filmed that after
hours... hmmm... Did the Mayor here, hold the camera?" The Mayor gasped and
began to turn green.



"Were you not even told Deputy Harris called out sick today? Or were you
too busy planting evidence. I bet you thought my conviction could set you
up for higher political office. What was it? State Senator or maybe even
Governor one day?



"One word from me and those videos will flood the internet. You'll be as
electable as the guy in New York, who kept sending his dick pics to all
those women. You might get work in gay pornos, but you are done in law
enforcement. You might as well hand over your badge to that pompous,
bilious, homophobe," Paul nodded, indicating the Mayor.



At some point the Sheriff realized all his scheming had fallen
through. Filled with rage he jerked to his feet, knocking over the chair
behind him. Before he could draw his gun, two men burst through the door
shouting, "Texas Rangers, dro..." It was at this point that two shots rang
out. Paul later swore there was only one, but that was because the first
one temporarily deafened him. The Sheriff dropped his drawn, but unfired
weapon, then collapsed in a heap beneath the table. Paul found himself
wrapped up in Jeff's arms, shielded by his body.



The ADA and the Mayor had like everyone else in the room, except Bill
Wilson the State Trooper, remained seated. The Mayor suddenly jumped up and
ran for the door, with his hands to his mouth holding back breakfast. No
one blocked his way. The ADA calmly offered, "Guess he's never been in a
war time situation."



The State Trooper reholstering his just fired handgun, agreed, "I reckon
not."



Using the video from behind the two way mirror and the coroner's report, it
was determined the Sheriff died as a result of two gunshot wounds to the
chest, both of which punctured his heart. One fired from the gun of a Texas
Ranger. The second fired, almost simultaneously, by a Texas State
Trooper. Either shot would have been instantaneously fatal. Both shooters
were commended for their lifesaving endeavors.



Paul felt vindicated when it was discovered, through log books and videos,
the planted drugs were taken from the evidence locker and planted that
morning by the Sheriff himself. He shivered like someone had walked across
his grave when they found a cache of untraceable automatic weapons in the
trunk of the dead Sheriff's patrol car.



In an emergency meeting the County Judge and County Commissioners voted to
appoint Deputy Daniel Lovan as acting County Sheriff. His first official
act was to request the Texas Rangers investigate Sheriff Johnson's
professional and personal life and ties to uncover any possible past
wrongdoing that might adversely affect the Office of the Sheriff.



The DA's office issued a statement that no criminal charges would be filed
in the case of Joshua Morgan's death. Quietly the DA cancelled holiday
vacations to conduct their own investigation. He expected every case his
office prosecuted under the dead Sheriff's auspices to be called into
question.



It seemed like a lifetime, but only hours later they were headed home.
There would be more statements to be made, but thankfully not until after
Christmas. The Tahoe was once again eerily quiet. From out of nowhere Paul
backhanded Jeff's shoulder and shouted, "What the fuck were you thinking!
You could have been killed too! At that range the bullet would probably
gone through both of us. Who would be left to take care of Maria?  You
dumbshit!"


Author's Note:

Let me know what you think with a short or long email.

Sojourn1950@yahoo.com