Authors: Paul Adan
Captain Kickins approached Robert, and quickly discussed tactics. The plan was to advance along the side of the roadway, on foot, until they were within a hundred feet of Jason’s car. At that point, Cpt. Kickins and the team would stop and reassess how to proceed. Robert and Fred agreed to remain in their vehicle. They would use it as a roadblock in the event that kidnappers tried to flee from the quarry.
As they sat in the car, the detectives monitored the radio traffic between Cpt.
Kickins and the SWAT team operatives. At first, it appeared to Robert that everything was going according to plan and the SWAT team was making good progress. Although he couldn’t see any of the operatives, the last transmission indicated that they were getting very close to their objective. Robert and Fred nervously awaited the next transmission.
Suddenly, the radio crackled to life and there was a disturbing call from Cpt.
Kickins; he reported seeing two bodies lying on the ground, not too far from the car. One of the bodies, he said, was a well-built man with short hair, and the other appeared to be a slender woman with long hair. A sinking feeling came over Robert, and he feared the worst.
If only we’d arrived sooner,
he thought.
How am I ever going to explain this to Megan’s mother?
Morosely, he stared out the window in silence.
Soon, however, there was another radio transmission. This time the news from Cpt.
Kickins was astonishing. “Ben and Megan are alive!” he yelled excitedly into the radio. “They were hiding in the bushes! I repeat: Ben and Megan are alive! The two bodies near the car were the kidnappers. Ben is seriously injured and bloodied, but it looks like he will be ok. The girl, Megan, appears to be only slightly injured.” He ended the transmission by telling the detectives to “come quickly.”
The detectives were jubilant. For nearly a minute – that is, until they remembered Cpt.
Kickins last instruction – they whooped and hollered and gave each other “high-fives.”
When they finally settled down, Fred started the car and they raced down the gravel road at breakneck speed.
Shortly thereafter, Ben and Megan were on the way to the hospital.
Stuart Co. Jail, Booking
1 October, 8:02PM
STILL WEARING the spit-sock over his head, Jason waltzed into the jail like he owned the place. He remained uncooperative and confrontational, but the police officer wasn’t taking any of his guff. Without fanfare he curtly ordered Jason to shut his damn mouth, and to sit down on the cement bench while he completed some paperwork. Jason was furious at being told what to do, but nevertheless complied with the officer’s orders. By now, the inside of his spit sock dripped with snot and saliva.
Next to where Jason sat, there was an eighteen year old boy. He had been arrested for trespassing and vandalism earlier that evening, but he wasn’t much of a criminal. In fact, other than his recent mistakes, he was no criminal at all. As evidence of this, his young face still wore the look of innocence, and his behavior was polite and compliant. He was nothing like Jason, the hardened criminal who sat next to him, but was instead a lot like numerous other young men who had gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd. Coincidentally, he sat in the exact spot where Edward had sat when he was booked into the jail a month and a half earlier. As he sat there, he could not help but stare at Jason.
And Jason was perturbed by the attention. “What the hell are you star’n at, punk?” he demanded. “You’d better mind your own business. Here in a day or two, I’m gonna own this jail. And if you don’t show a little respect, you’re gonna be sorry. Do you got that, punk?”
The boy could only nod his head. But in his mind he mocked this man with the bag on his head.
Criminal
, he thought.
He’s nothing more than a drain on society. He deserves to be in jail. Better yet, they should stick him in a zoo.
He was still lost in thought when a CO appeared and motioned for him to proceed into Booking. Though he was frightened and worried, only his quivering hands betrayed him.
County/City Building, Stuart Co.
Holding Room Number 3
2 October, 10:18 AM
JERRY AND Josh were ecstatic, and gleefully followed a CO into the holding room. Once seated, they began discussing a myriad of topics; none of which involved jail food, jail fights, or
jail smack-talk. Earlier that morning, they had each received a phone call from their respective attorney. And that’s when they had been told the amazing news: All charges against them had been dropped and they were going to be released; in all likelihood, they would be free men by 12 noon. Upon learning this news, they had at first been speechless and a little confused. But now, an hour or so later, their mouths and their plans were running a mile a minute.
The two
friends hadn’t been in the holding room very long when the door opened. When they looked up to see who was coming in through the door, they were both stunned by what they saw; it was Edward, and he looked nothing like the friend he had once been. For a moment, they stared at him in silence and disbelief.
Edward was the first to speak. “Hi, guys. It’s – it’s me. How’s it going? Did you get the news?” His voice was muted and devoid of emotion. He looked downward as he spoke; only occasionally raising his head to make eye contact with his friends.
There was an awkward pause, after which time Josh got up from his chair and approached his friend. Tenderly, without a word, he gave Edward a long hug as tears streamed down his cheeks. When he finally spoke, he barely whispered. “I’m sorry, Edward. I am so, so sorry. I wish this had never happened to you. I wish we hadn’t taken you to Lucky’s. I’m so sorry...”
By now, Jerry had also gotten up from his chair and had stretched his arms around both men in a group hug. The three friends remained this way for quite some time. Like Josh, Jerry was overcome with emotion and barely able to speak. Eventually, however, he offered his own apology to Edward. “Edward, I’m sorry. I kne
w you’d have a hard time here – in this stink’n pit. I’m really sorry...” His voice trailed off, and shortly thereafter, they all sat down.
For the next twenty minutes, the three amigos talked about jail-life and what each of them had experienced while incarcerated. Much of the conversation focused on Edward; mostly on account of the fact that he appeared to have suffered
the most. During the conversation, every now and again, Edward attempted to interrupt with an apology of his own. But his attempts were drowned out by the boisterous personalities of his friends. Eventually, a break in the conversation provided Edward with a perfect opportunity to reveal what was on his mind and in his heart.
“He
y, guys,” he stammered, “there’s something – uhhh – it’s been really eating at me – uhhh – for the entire time we’ve been locked up. I – I – just wanted to – no, forget it. It’s horrible and I don’t think you’ll ever forgive me. I – I can’t.” Edward looked at the floor and shook his head back and forth.
Josh looked over at Jerry, then back at Edward. “No, no, don’t worry about it, Edward. We’re you’re best friends. Come on, tell us.”
Jerry also chimed in with encouragement. “Edward, man, we’ve all done things we regret. Besides, whatever it was you did – it’s probably no big deal.” He reached over and put his arm around Edward’s shoulders.
Once again, Edward tried to speak. “I – I – just wanted you – you to know that I’m partly
responsi –responsible for the three of us get – get – getting arrested. It all has – has to do with the...” He suddenly stopped speaking when a CO entered the room.
“Alright guys,” the CO said, “it’s time to go. Up, up – times
a’wasting!”
Edward was devastated by the interruption. For weeks he had wanted to unload his burden and ask forgiveness. But he was too late. With saucer-like eyes he looked over at Josh and Jerry, but they ignored him; they were smiling broadly, and eagerly anticipating the taste of freedom.
Together, the friends got up from their chairs and followed the CO through the hallway towards the courtroom. Edward trailed behind the group, dragging his feet on the floor as if there were anchors attached to his legs. The CO vociferously “encouraged” him on several occasions to keep up. When they finally arrived in the courtroom, the friends sat down next to their attorneys. And then they waited.
County/City Building, Stuart Co.
2 October, 10:20 AM
GRUDGINGLY
, ROBERT and Fred arrived at Arthur Klipp’s office for a pre-arranged meeting. Arthur had wanted to discuss with them the latest news regarding the Lucky Boys case, and tie up any loose ends if necessary. Both detectives were dead-tired and had overslept the “wake-up” times on their alarm clocks. When they arrived at Arthur’s door, their nerves were on edge, and they were only slightly more alert than zombies.
In response to Robert’s knock, Arthur called for the men to come in. He wasn’t surprised to see the detectives looking so haggard, but he felt a tad bit guilty for pushing them so hard. After the usual greetings, he motioned for them to sit down in the puffy chairs. Without hesitation, both men collapsed into the chairs. Arthur looked at them for a moment, grinned, and then called for his secretary to bring some coffee.
As he waited for the coffee to be delivered, Arthur briefed the men on the status of the Lucky Boys case. “Well,” he said, “you may have heard already that the there is a court hearing taking place – very soon, so I’ll make this quick – which pertains to the Lucky Boys.” He paused briefly to look at his watch. “As we had previously discussed, all charges against the boys – as they relate to the incident at Lucky’s – are being dropped.”
“Alright – yep, we heard that,” Robert replied. “The whe
els of justice finally turned. And thank God, I can now take a vacation. Fred, here, could also use one, I think. Is that all you wanted to tell us, Arthur? Or is there something else?” Just then the coffee arrived, and both detectives poured themselves a steaming cup. Gingerly, they sipped on the elixir and clasped the mugs like they were holding pieces of gold.
Arthur smiled again, and continued to speak. “Yes, you both deserve a long vacation. Unfortunately, here’s what I need from you guys first – and this, by the way, is the purpose of our meeting. I need you to write up your usual reports as quickly as possible, and then begin piecing together the case against Jason Lewis. I know we’ve got a lot of DNA evidence to process, so I would hope it will be expedited as soon as possible. I, also, want to warn you two to be very careful to preserve all your notes etc. that pertain to the Lucky Boys case. We’ll most likely face a civil suit for incarcerating the Lucky Boys, so hang on to everything you’ve got. Also, watch what you say to the media. Are you guys hearing me?”
“Yes, we hear you,” Robert replied. He was angry and bitter, his dark mood evident in the tone of his voice. “Is there anything else, Arthur?”
“No. That’s it,” Arthur replied. “I’m sorry guys, I really am. When this is all said and done, do take a vacation. You guys did a fantastic job with the Lucky Boys case, but it looks like there’s gonna be some unwanted repercussions. Hang in there.” He paused before asking: “Are we ok? Are you guys gonna hate me from here on out? Should I still send you a fruitcake for Christmas?”
Robert looked at Fred, raised his eyebrows, and smirked in an exaggerated manner. “Yes, send us your
stink’n fruitcakes,” Robert finally said. “I could always use another doorstop.” The tension was broken, and the detectives resigned themselves to accepting the cards they were dealt.
For several minutes the three men talked about food, and bantered about holiday gifts. All the while, Arthur kept track of the time and periodically looked at his watch. Presently he
called a close to the meeting – and soon after, the detectives wearily trudged out through the door. When they were gone, Arthur gathered up a few pertinent papers and tossed them into his briefcase. Hurriedly, with briefcase in hand, he walked to Courtroom Number 2.
County/City Building, Stuart Co.
Superior Courtroom Number 2
2 October, 10:45 AM
JUDGE FREDERICK arrived, and the bailiff rambled on in the same manner he had rambled during the arraignment hearing two months prior. Stoically, the friends listened as he described the reason for the hearing. His voice was monotonous and gravelly, without inflection or any indication of emotion. They barely listened as he spoke.
“Today, we’re here to address the case of the State of Colorado versus the following three defendants: Edward Bryant, Jerry McDonald, and Josh Tyler.
Blah, blah, blah. Case number is 1995 dash 5325. Blah, blah, blah. This hearing was requested by Prosecuting Attorney Arthur Klipp, in order to amend the charges filed against the three defendants.” The bailiff briefly looked in Arthur’s direction. “Will Mr. Klipp please stand and indentify himself?” Arthur stood and gave his name. Next, the bailiff asked the assigned counsel to stand and identify themselves? They, in turn, stood up and gave their names. The bailiff continued to speak. “The state of Colorado, blah, blah, blah...”
The hearing progressed at a reasonable pace, but it seemed like an interminable length of time to the friends. They became increasingly anxious and impatient as the seconds ticked by in slow motion. They yearned for Judge Frederick to put an end to their “misery” – but when she
eventually spoke, she continued to discuss preliminary matters; the significance of which was hidden to the friends behind a cloud of legal mumbo-jumbo. Finally, she arrived at the part of the hearing where she formally dismissed the charges against the Lucky Boys.
The friends were jubilant, their outbursts explosive and uncontained. For a minute or longer, they whooped and hollered and disrupted the placid courtroom – much to the delight of all who were present. Eventually, however, Judge Frederick restored order to the courtroom with several loud bangs of her gavel. All the while, even as she furiously
pounded on the sounding block, her demeanor remained pleasant and cheerful.
And then, in the midst of the fading celebrations, Judge Frederick made a pronouncement which thoroughly suff
ocated any last vestiges of joy. “Officers,” she said, “will you please escort Mr. Jerry McDonald and Mr. Josh Tyler out of the courtroom. Mr. Bryant will remain behind. Thank you.” The friends exchanged confused looks, and a dark look of despair crept over Edward’s previously jovial face.
AFTER JERRY and Josh had left the room, Judge Frederick continued: “Mr. Bryant, you are hereby charged with custodial assault for striking an officer of the law. The offense you committed is third degree assault. As such, you will remain in custody for the time being, but you will be credited for time already served. You can expect to serve at least another month, after which time you will remain on probation for 6 months...” She paused momentarily as she prepared to say something else. The room was quiet.
Suddenly, to everyone’s astonishment, Edward cried out as if he’d been struck by a bullet. “Nooooooo!” he wailed. “Noooooo – nooooo – nooooo – no – no – no – I can’t – no – I – I can’t – noooooo.” Over and over again, he pounded his fists against the desk where he was seated. Violently, he writhed about in his chair as if he were a chained animal. There were numerous gasps of dismay in the courtroom, and soon afterwards there was bedlam. Edward continued to wail like a coyote.
Sensing that she had lost control of the courtroom, Judge Frederick frantically reached for the gavel and began pounding in jack-hammer fashion. At first her efforts failed to yield any dividends at all, and the raucous atmosphere persisted. But then, as if by magic, the room became deathly silent as all eyes turned towards Edward. To everyone’s surprise and bewilderment, he was scratching his left cheek over and over and over again with each successive rap of the gavel. A chill ran up Judge Frederick’s spine, and slowly she stopped
pounding. As gently as possible, she laid the gavel down on her desk. And then, like everyone else, she gaped in amazement.
Edward calmed down a moment later, and raised his trembling hand into the air where he could look at it. There was a collective gasp in the courtroom. Shockingly, his fingers were covered in blood.
Stuart County
2 October, 12:07PM
A STORM was brewing when Josh and Jerry walked out of the jail. Dark billowy clouds laden with moisture hung in the air like dirty balls of cotton – just waiting to be squeezed – while closer to the ground, gusts of wind stirred up dried leaves and trash into miniature tornadoes. Briefly, the friends stopped in their tracks and marveled at nature’s wrath. It wasn’t long before heavy raindrops began to splatter all around, like innumerable artillery shells exploding in cone-shaped bursts. At first the men didn’t move, and instead reveled in the cool drops pelting their faces. But when the rain intensified moments later, they quickly sought refuge in a nearby bus stop.
As they sat on the bench watching the downpour, the friends wondered what had happened to Edward. The last time they had seen him was when they had left him in the courtroom. They weren’t sure why he was told to remain behind, and they had fully expected to see him when they left the jail. But for whatever reason, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Both men were perplexed, and a little worried.
“What do you suppose happened to Edward?” Jerry asked.
“I don’t know,” Josh replied. “It is a little odd that he isn’t out here.”
“Yeah, no kidding.
I wonder if, perhaps, this has anything to do with what he was trying to tell us in the holding room.”
“That’s possible,” Josh surmised. “I
kinda feel bad that he wasn’t able to tell us what was on his mind. When the CO came into the room, my main concern was going to court – and then gett’n the heck out’a dodge.”
“I felt the same way,” said Jerry.
“What do you think about the way he looked?” Josh continued. “To me, he looked like crap. I wonder if this place caused him to finally snap.”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing, Josh. In fact, I’ve been worried about him the entire time we’ve been locked up in this
hell-hole. He obviously didn’t do well...in here...” Lost in thought, Jerry’s voice trailed off and he stared blankly at the raindrops pounding the sidewalk and nearby street.
BEFORE LONG, the rain-shower passed and the clouds parted. A golden beam of sunshine pierced through the darkness and shone down on the jail, illuminating the building and parking lot like a spotlight. The reflected light on the wet surfaces was blinding, and the friends squinted
on account of the glare. Unable to see clearly when looking in the direction of the jail, they turned around in their seats and gazed at things more distant. The air smelled of rain, but occasionally the friends caught the whiff of hamburgers from an unseen burger joint.
“Do you smell that?” Jerry inquired between sniffs. He straightened up and looked around to see if he could identify the source of the smell.
“Yeah. It smells good – real good,” Josh responded. “I can’t wait to have a burger. In fact, that’s what I’m gonna do as soon as I get home – go out for a burger. Do you want to go with me?”
“Sure. Ok.”
At about this time, Megan arrived in her car and parked beside the bus stop. When she got out of the vehicle and approached her friends, they greeted her with cheerful smiles and long hugs. Soon after, they all piled into her car and headed to the hospital. Along the way, Megan reassured the men more than once that even though Ben was battered and sore, he was nonetheless doing fine. “According to the doctor,” she said, “he would most likely be released later this afternoon.”
Stuart Co. Jail, Medical Clinic
2 October, 12:16 PM
IMMEDIATELY AFTER leaving the courtroom, Edward was escorted under heavy guard to the clinic. Judge Frederick had insisted that he be seen right away, and the officers were happy to comply with her orders. When the group arrived, however, they discovered that the nursing staff was still at lunch and the clinic was deserted. There was a brief period of indecision during which time the officers debated amongst themselves whether or not to return Edward to his cell, or keep him in the clinic. They decided to keep him in the clinic.
Edward was placed in a holding cell, released from his shackles, and told to be quiet. Still fidgeting and twitching a little, and occasionally scratching his cheek, he sat on a cold cement bench as he awaited the return of a nurse who could dress his wound. Because he had missed his lunch – normally served to inmates at around 10 AM – an officer arranged for the delivery of a sack lunch. Ten minutes later, the lunch arrived.
Edward nibbled on a cold bologna and cheese sandwich for several minutes, until his obfuscated mind realized that he was, in fact, not hungry. With a look of disdain on his face, he returned the partially eaten sandwich to the lunch bag. He then closed his eyes, leaned backwards against the wall, and tried to rest.
Soon, the clinic came alive with activity. The nurses and Physicians Assistants (PAs) were the first to arrive, and they were followed a few minutes later by a “herd” of inmates. Half of the happy herd was placed in one holding cell, and the remainder was placed in an adjacent cell – the same cell, as it were, where Edward was already seated. Edward was perturbed by the company, and turned his body away from the others. His eyes were directed at the floor, his head barely
moving. All around him, inmates were laughing and chatting, and having a good time. Edward ignored the others, as best he could, but soon he perceived a voice that was directed at him.