Taylor Made Owens (21 page)

Lisa was dismayed by the news of Robert’s arrest. She’d thought he had overcome his untoward behavior with the help of her daughter. Bill greeted the news with his once-a-crook-always-a-crook attitude.

Kristen was convinced she’d both overestimated her ability to turn the troubled lad around and underestimated his proclivity toward evil. Given what she knew about his history of theft and the evidence she saw, she had no doubt he’d stolen the necklace. What she couldn’t figure out was the illegal drugs. Robert had always been fiercely against them. Maybe he’d fooled her in that respect, too, she thought, but it was hard to believe. It was the drugs that sowed in her seeds of doubt about the whole incident as she pondered it over the summer while the trial was pending.

Kim posted bail, and he returned home to finish the last two weeks of high school, and to help prepare his defense. When through school, the eighteen-year-old was no longer eligible for foster care. He moved out of the Kriegers’ house and in with Kim until the trial was over. He left the Kriegers’ with everything he owned, all packed into his trunk: a few articles of clothing, a baseball glove, and the disarrayed remnants of his dead family. Kristen’s picture he had placed inside; he hadn’t given up hope for her yet.

He stayed in the guest room, the almost full-term pregnant woman not welcoming any bunkmates. Kim offered to pay for a defense attorney so he didn’t have to rely on a public defender, and he accepted, but vowed to pay her back from his trust fund as soon as he turned nineteen. Unfortunately, neither Kim nor he knew anything about lawyers. They asked around, and one was recommended. He turned out to be mediocre, pushing the innocent man hard to accept a plea bargain offered by the prosecutor. He would plead guilty, and the prosecutor would recommend a lenient sentence of three months because it was his first conviction. As he was innocent, Robert refused. The case went to court, and he was represented by a man who seemed convinced of his guilt.

In July, Kim gave birth to a healthy eight-pound, nine-ounce boy, Brian Robert Arnold, with the father in attendance. It was a happy event—Kim was overjoyed once her twenty-one-hour labor was behind her—but it led to depressing thoughts in the young man facing jail. What would his son think of an ex-con for his father? He felt guilty about a lack of love for the boy, not realizing that a father’s love doesn’t automatically start the minute he sees his child; it grows naturally as the two interact over time. Even so, Robert was reluctant to develop an attachment to the infant, given that he might be forced apart from him shortly, and that his loved ones tended to die.

In August, Robert made a difficult call to the scout for the Minnesota Twins to tell them he was interested in signing a contract right away, but that he was in “minor trouble with the law.” The scout told him to work out his troubles first. After the call, he sat there in a daze; he felt as if his entire future was crumbling.

“Life is a fetid cesspool of unbearable and unceasing misery,” he apprised Kim with a matter-of-fact tone. Ten months ago she would have agreed, but now nursing their flawless son, she could no longer concur.

There was one more hope for his future, however. He was, of course, still playing baseball, and doing so superlatively. He got his team to the Ontario Baseball Association championship playoffs, and was hoping a scout for another team would sign him, but, coursing through the putrid swamp of life, his last hope foundered as it ran aground on the great reef of ineptitude, and plunged him into the mire.

In the last inning of the first game, playing center field—for the team was saving his arm for the tougher competition to come—he got ejected when he argued a bad call with the umpires. The ball was hit so far over his head it looked like the game winner as the tying and winning runs sprinted toward home, but he somehow chased it down and made a marvelous catch diving toward the center field fence. It should have been the last out of the game, but the umpire, not having seen the catch, ruled the play safe, thereby costing Robert’s team the victory. Robert argued stridently, pointing out that the ball was in his glove. The field umpire said the ball may have bounced before he caught it, and the plate umpire stood by his colleague.

Robert declared, “You didn’t need to see it, you stupid bastard. Just think about it. How could anyone trap a ball that’s going away from him?” They found his line of reasoning unflattering, determined that their authority extended to overthrowing the laws of physics, and threw him out of the tournament. That ended his team’s prospects, his Little League baseball career, and his hopes of getting seen by a scout.

T
he Friday before Labor Day, the trial commenced. Of course, the major bone of contention was the empty video tape that supposedly proved indubitably his guilt. His defense attorney focused on it for the early part of the trial in a perfunctory way. He never got to the bottom of it, leaving the jury with the impression that it was probably an honest mistake because Robert’s fingerprints were on the jewels and cocaine packet, and there were witnesses to the original videotape: one, an honest, if obtuse, cop who had the wool pulled over his eyes; the other an ex-girlfriend. The cop testified as to what he saw on the tape and what he found in the defendant’s pocket. That ended the first day in court. The trial would resume in five days.

Seeing the handwriting on the wall, Robert again called the acquaintance about the bank job, and again he came over with the computer. Robert had told him last time that he couldn’t do it. This time he told him he thought he figured out how it could be done. He intended to steal as much as he could.
If the fuckers are going to put me in jail for something I didn’t do, by God I’m going to earn the time. When I get out, I’ll be a rich man
, he convinced himself. For four days, he worked hard to figure out a way of transferring funds into his accounts that he set up so it couldn’t be traced back to him. He worked out the scheme and tested it on a small scale with a hundred dollars. The pilot worked. He waited a day to see if there was any notice taken of the security breach.

In the midst of all this, Kristen began university the day after Labor Day. With all the upheaval in her life, she decided to stay at home to begin university, taking medical sciences at Western.

The trial recommenced Wednesday with Dominic taking the stand. The handsome man made eyes at the female jurists and weaved an impressive string of compelling lies together that had several female jurists nodding their heads. He left directly after testifying, off to meet his new gal, but not before kissing Kristen in front of the defeated man. Judy, much amused at Robert’s predicament, left shortly thereafter. Physical evidence and motives were next considered. That ended day two.

With no sign that his withdrawal from the bank had been detected, Robert set up the real run. Just the push of a button and he’d be a millionaire. As his finger approached the mouse to push the button, he hesitated.

Just the push of a button and I’ll be a major criminal
.

He decided to sleep on it.

Lying in bed, he remembered a key event from his childhood. He was six and had stolen a chocolate bar from a corner store. His mother, who caught him eating it, had been so saddened and disappointed in her son that she wouldn’t even talk to him, except to say, “Just wait till your father gets home!”

His father, irate that his son would stoop to such levels, spanked him. It was the one time he could recall his father hitting him. He made young Bobby return to the store with a written apology and payment from his piggy bank. He was grounded for a month. Never again would he do anything bad, he decided then. He couldn’t face that look in their eyes again.

He looked at the ceiling as he contemplated what he intended to do in the morning, and a tear fell from his eye.
How ashamed my parents would be of me
, he thought. He couldn’t go through with it the next morning, placing his hope on a change of fortune at the trial. Maybe Kristen would save the day.

Kristen had spent many a sleepless night leading up to the trial. A witness for the prosecution, she wasn’t permitted to see Robert during the summer and had no desire to through June and July. As the summer wore on, though, her wrath and anguish ebbed, and her love for him roused from its coma. Through loving eyes, his innocence seemed obvious.

He’s too smart to steal in that circumstance, and he would never have anything to do with drugs
.

Her sole cause for misgivings was the videotape; she saw what she saw on it. When it turned out the one held by the police was blank, however, she became convinced she’d been fooled. It was just too suspicious. She thought again about the cop just happening to be there. That now seemed like an unlikely coincidence to her. The suggestion that he was responsible for the graffiti was dubious, since it showed some evidence of artistic talent, of which Robert possessed none.

By the time she was to testify, she believed he’d been framed. But what was she to do? Lie on the stand? That would go against everything the Taylors believed in. Truth and justice were inseparable concepts to the Taylor family, though enough of Robert’s cynicism had rubbed off on Kristen that she had her doubts. She raised her concerns with her father, but it was black and white to him: simply tell the truth. Lying on the stand was out of the question. That would be both immoral and illegal.

So Kristen stated through a curtain of tears what she saw, hoping that the truth would somehow lead to justice. She kept glancing at Robert and, if he was looking at her, would whisper, “I’m sorry.” She tried to say he was incapable of this, but was cut off by the prosecutor. In response to the prosecutor’s opening question about what she had seen on the video, she began with a shaky voice, “On the video, Bobby … um … Mr. Owens was looking at the necklaces … I’m sorry.”

“Take a minute to calm yourself, Miss Taylor,” suggested the judge.

“I don’t think he would—”

“Miss Taylor,” interrupted the prosecutor, “Please keep to the facts alone.”

“Um, there were four necklaces before he passed in front of them … I’m sorry … then there were three,” she said as a tear fell to her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she again whispered across the courtroom to the accused. He looked at her with disgust. She felt sick.

“Did you conclude then that Mr. Owens had taken the necklace?” said the prosecutor. Kristen, looking at Robert, hesitated. He returned a solemn stare, begging her not to betray him.

“Miss Taylor, answer the question,” directed the judge.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again to the accused. She looked down and answered, “Yes.” Her eyes darted from the floor to his dejected face then back down.

“And tell the jury what you saw Mr. Owens take from his pocket.”

“Um,” Kristen said, still looking at the floor and shaking all over, “the … the necklace.”

“And what else?” She looked at Robert again. He, too, was looking down.

“Miss Taylor, calm yourself and answer the question,” instructed the judge.

“A bag of white powder, but he would never—”

“Miss Taylor, just answer the question and stay away from speculation please,” warned the prosecutor.

But she just had to get this point in regardless of what the prosecutor and judge thought. “He would never take drugs!”

“Miss Taylor!” reprimanded the prosecutor.

“Miss Taylor,” admonished the judge. “Keep this up and I’ll hold you in contempt.” She kept looking at Robert until he eventually returned a glance. Hoping for forgiveness, Kristen saw only acrimony in his eyes, which started her sobbing.

“Please relax,” the prosecutor told Kristen. “Only one more question, Miss Taylor. You told us that Mr. Owens has a history of thievery.” She glanced at Robert, who reacted with shock. He closed his eyes, issued a plaintive sigh, and slowly lowered his head. In his mind, her betrayal was complete. Knowing what he must be thinking, she, too, lowered her head and put her hands over her face. Her whole body trembled with grief.

Everyone observing the wretched girl pitied her. She had her mother, father, brother, Kim, many observers, and half the jury in tears. Ironically, her deportment proved disastrous for the defendant. How could a woman who obviously loves a man so much lie to frame him? She couldn’t, so he must have done what she said he did. Thus reasoned the twelve people on the jury as they observed Kristen.

“Objection, Your Honor,” interrupted the defense lawyer. “My client has never been convicted of anything.”

“Overruled. I’ll allow the question,” decided the judge.

“Miss Taylor, you told us you found Mr. Owens in possession of a stolen stereo and a stolen bike.”

Her mother was surprised at this news and became convinced of his guilt of the current charges.

“Yes, but he returned—”

“Miss Taylor, just answer the question. Let the record show the witness answered in the affirmative. No further questions of this witness, Your Honor,” concluded the prosecutor.

“Does the defense have any questions?” the judge asked the defender.

“Just one, Your Honor. Miss Taylor, is it possible that your testimony against the defendant is colored by your anger against him for cheating on you?”

“No! I could never do that to him. I only answered the questions truthfully. You know that, don’t you? Bobby?” He looked away, and her crying resumed. The defense lawyer tried to question her honesty again, but Kristen’s emotional insistence that she was incapable of lying to ruin him made it clear the defense strategy had backfired. The prosecutor, sensing this, didn’t object. Robert’s lawyer took his seat, told himself the case was lost, and worried about his reputation.

“That completes the witness list,” announced the judge.

“No!” shouted the defendant. “Your Honor, this blockhead isn’t taking my defense seriously! There’s been no serious cross-examination about what happened to the tape. Was it erased or did Solano’s henchmen give them a blank one, knowing that the tape they showed to these idiots couldn’t withstand scrutiny? Either the officer and the defender are in on it or they’re fools.”