Prosecutorial Weakness Ch. 1

Tucking his full ice bucket under his arm like a chilly football, Carlos attempted to clumsily work his way past his stunned teacher.

"Good...good night...Mrs.Montclaire, " Carlos's voice trailed off as he made his way down the hall to the high school girl he had shacked up with for the night, leaving Becky all alone with her swirling and confused thoughts.

"What just happened?" the drunk, middle aged woman mouthed over and over as she watched Carlos disappear around the corner.

* * * * *

That same question echoed through Carlos's head for the rest of the night at the motel as well. Even as he had his way several more times with the drunk and stoned teenage slut he had brought to the motel for the night, Carlos mentally fixated on the disheveled look Becky Montclaire had when he had bumped into her, the way her long stringy hair was messed up and matted, the way her braless breasts bounced around inside her jacket each time she tried to breath and most of all, the unmistakable scent of feminine arousal that he caught a whiff of when he scooted past her with the full ice bucket.

Needing a smoke at a few minutes after 7 the next morning, Carlos dragged his sexually gratified body out from under the covers and walked over to the room's window for a three Newport breakfast.

As Carlos lit into his second smoke, something caught his eye wandering through the early morning light of the Super 8's parking lot. Watching as a drowsy and hastily dressed male figure emerged from the motel's office, Carlos halfheartedly followed the man's brief journey until his eyes widened at the gentleman's eventual destination.

"Holy...Shit," Carlos whispered in his thickly accented English, blindly tapping his Newport ashes onto the carpet below as he recognized Becky Montcalire's side profile standing next to the guy's car.

"That sure ain't her Husband," Carlos calmly assessed, vividly remembering the family portrait that his teacher kept on her desk at school.

Carlos intently watched as Becky and the strange men each stole a glance to both sides to make sure no one was staring at them before kissing each other goodbye.

"This changes things," Carlos thought to himself as he smoked his third cigarette, watching as Becky and her lover departed in separate vehicles. A strange sense of confusion and untapped euphoria swept through Carlos's veins as he turned and sized up the snoring girl sleeping under the covers. Mashing what was left of his Newport out, Carlos returned to bed to wake up his Bitch for the night, hoping to fuck her twice more before their late morning checkout.

* * * * *

Yawning as she shook her head slowly side to side, Andrea continued to absorb the outlandish details of the case that she would have to try in less than a week. Jabbing the knuckles of both fists into her eye sockets, Andrea tried jolting herself awake long enough so she could pour over the evidence one last time before bed.

Exploring further, Andrea discovered that three weeks after Carlos and Becky's awkward Friday night meeting at the motel, Carlos had found himself in trouble with the law. Having decided to spend the evening with one of the girls he had been fooling around with from school, both young lovers were busted when the girl's parents returned home early from their night out.

Outraged when they stumbled upon their daughter engaged in such behavior on the sofa in the basement, the girl's parents were disgusted even further when they saw their angel involved with someone of Carlos's heritage. Immediately on the phone to the police, less than an hour later, Carlos was in custody for suspicion of theft.

If it wasn't for the fact Carlos was already on probation for helping with a car theft a year and a half earlier, the cops would have probably blown off the incident and let the young man go. When the girl's Mother told the police that some of her silverware was missing however, the cops responding to the call decided to take Carlos downtown.

Desperately not wanting to disturb his mother at work with his quandary, Carlos thought of another option out of the blue.

"Can I call one of my teachers?" Carlos asked the police, suddenly remembering how Becky Montclaire had told the students in her class several times that if there was ever a time they needed her, she would be there for them.

Initially hesitant to come into town to bail Carlos out, Becky's guilt and sympathy quickly won out and less than 20 minutes after the call she was headed to the nearest ATM machine to get the money to free Carlos for the night.

"He knows about your affair...he's gonna hold it over you," a hauntingly paranoid voice inside Becky's head warned even though the memory of what happened that night at the Super 8 didn't even flash back in Carlos's mind until he was in Becky's passenger seat, headed home.

The silence between the Becky and Carlos, as they drove on, was the fertile impetus needed for the two to slowly start opening up, this time in the privacy of a car instead of the confines of a school classroom. Truth and honesty are very difficult things to conceal during times of catharsis and before they knew it, Becky and Carlos had driven around Colorado Springs three times, pouring out their souls.

With the digital clock on Becky's CD player reading 12:58 and her gas needle nearly on E, Becky pulled her car into the parking space in front of the townhouse she had rented when she separated from her husband. Sitting there behind the wheel for nearly 5 minutes beside Carlos, Becky experienced a vague and debilitating sense of detachment as she pondered the inevitable.

Within 30 minutes, the tawdry, indecent and illegal affair between teacher and student had been consummated twice. From there on, nearly a year and a half worth of drugs, sex, money, and cars and been swapped and shared between the two until it was very difficult to determine who the real victim, if there was one, really was.

* * * * *

The irony of ironies in the whole ordeal, as Andrea read on, was how Becky and Carlos's relationship finally came to light.

A little over a year after Becky and Carlos had initiated their affair, Becky's co-worker, friend, and wife of the man she had also been fooling around with, Alysia Kraft had been out late running errands and decided on the spur of the moment to return several computer manuals Becky had lent her a few weeks earlier. Not even thinking about calling ahead to see if Becky was home, Alysia pulled into Becky's apartment complex and parked in the visitors lot. Grabbing the materials she wanted to return, Alysia routinely got out of her car and started the 50 yard walk to Becky's front door.

About halfway to Becky's, Alysia approached the gate that separated the exterior and interior of the apartment complex and saw there was a light on inside her friend's living room.

"Good...she's home," Alysia said as she picked up her pace.

Just as she was about to let herself through the gate, the distant sound of giggling and water splashing caught Alysia's attention.

"Somebody playing in the swimming pool," Alysia sighed reassuringly.

Feeling her stomach roll slightly, as if she were intruding on someone's moment of intimate privacy, Alysia still mustered the courage to steal a peek to her right at the darkened and fenced in pool area.

Sparked by her natural human voyeuristic curiosity, Alysia tried to focus her eyes through the darkness to catch a glimpse of the romantically frolicking couple, 25 years down the hill.

"Lucky them," Alysia said to herself, tasting a mix of jealousy and admiration on her tongue as the faceless pair embraced below.

Deciding she had gawked long enough, Alysia turned and resumed her gallop towards Becky's house.

"Anyone Home?" Alysia asked in a conversational tone as she knocked three times on the front door.

Waiting several seconds for any sound of stirring to come from inside, Alysia knocked again and then rang the door bell.

"Maybe she's in the shower," Alysia thought out loud as she waited fruitlessly for another 30 seconds.

Checking her wrist watch, Alysia contemplated ringing the doorbell once more but decided that it was getting late and she could just give Becky the manuals the next day at school.

Turning back towards the same way she came, Alysia purposefully tried to keep her head bowed as she eased down the sidewalk, hoping she wouldn't be noticed as she passed by the lovers playing in the pool.

Her curiosity being too great however, Alysia slipped behind a large oak tree and stole a guilty, but extended, glance at the two shadowy figures intertwined in the water.

"Damn," Alysia jealously whispered. "Mitch and I haven't fucked in over a month...and here these folks are doing it right in the middle of the pool...right in the middle of all these houses."

Instinctively biting her tongue and holding her breath so she wouldn't make any noise, the muffled sounds of the voices below slowly started to register inside Alysia's head.

A multitude of "Mmmmss...yeahhhss...ahhhhss...shittss...and fucckksss...," rippled back and forth through the quiet night air until the familiar strains of one of the voices settled like an unsteady malaise into Alysia's senses.

"Becky...you lucky dog," Alysia laughed to herself, brimming with good humor that her friend and co-worker had been fortunate enough to hook up with some guy who was obviously showing her a good time.

Standing behind the tree, blushing like a teenager now, Alysia prepared to leave and give Becky all the privacy she needed when another cold realization hit Alysia in the belly like a point blank cannon shot.

Intermingled between the sounds of water splashing and Becky's moans of pleasure was another voice, a Latin tinged accent that struck a nerve with Alysia.

"...Carlos...Becky...Carlos," Alysia muttered over and over, feeling sicker each time that names dripped like motor oil from her tongue, knowing that her 40 year old friend was not only committing career suicide but partaking in something that could also land her substantial time in jail.

* * * * *

"Thank God someone finally blew the whistle," Andrea Bell said out loud as she came to the end of the case report. "If Alysia hadn't done that who knows how long the affair would have dragged out."

On the other hand, Andrea also knew that Alysia Kraft's credibility could be very difficult too maintain on the stand considering Becky Montcalire was also having an affair with Alysia's Husband, Mitch.

Andrea knew Becky's defense lawyer would have an easy time getting the jury's attention with that tidbit of information and it was her job as the prosecutor to make sure she reminded the 12 men and women that would decide the case that Alysia didn't find out about the affair between Becky and Mitch until AFTER she had turned Becky in for fooling around with the student.

"How in the Hell am I ever going to win this?" Andrea wearily moaned as she folded up the case file and tossed it down with a thud, on the coffee table in front of her.

"The damn kid is 19 now...cold...heartless... certainly no angel...no honest person could look at him and say he's a victim. The jury will want to acquit...they'll see she's as guilty as sin...there's no denying that...they'll probably even take her license so she'll never teach again...but she'll never spend a day in jail and that's what the brass at the office wants to see...I feel like I'm on trial more than anyone," the pessimist in Andrea's head fearfully prognosticated as she dejectedly stared at the scattered papers below.

"If this was the other way around...a male teacher and a female student...I could win this case blindfolded...but this is going to take work... and a lot of luck,," Andrea sighed, looking down at her daily planner to see she had a meeting scheduled with Carlos Vargas in three days, at his apartment, for a testimony prep session to get him ready for the start of the trial.

"That should be a lot of fun," Andrea mumbled sarcastically, knowing the only way to even have a remote chance of winning the case would be to have the victim of the crime look even a little sympathetic.

"I know one thing...I need a hot bath before I even think about going to bed," Andrea's inner rationality demanded as she launched her sweat pant and tee-shirt clad body off the sofa and winded her way to the bathroom to freshen up for the night.

* * * * *

**Author Note...

Due to space constraints on my system, the size of the documents I send is limited...thus part 1 of this story is basically background...trust me though...there's plenty of sex in the following parts.

Also...I would have dearly loved to include the graphic descriptions of the affair between Carlos and Becky but due to the rules of the sites that this story is posted, it simply wasn't permissible. That's where your imagination as a reader comes in I guess...thanks for your patronage and patience and I hope you enjoy the coming parts...take care...Stardog