Crimes, Torts, and Trials

"It wasn't as bad as we'd prepped for, which is always a good thing," I answered. "We treated about a hundred people at our station, and only two of them had to be transported. So, yeah. It wasn't nearly as bad as last year's was."

"Good to hear. Are you off today?"

"Yeah. As a matter of fact, I am, and that's why I'm calling. I talked to my father last night at dinner. He wants to talk to you."

"He's agreed to meet me?"

"He's not only agreed, he insists. I didn't give him the specific details you've given me, but when I told him you think a police officer tried to kill you, it got his attention. I haven't told him anything else."

"When?" she asked.

"He called to tell me he's cleared his schedule."

"Like today ?"

"Yeah."

"Let me call you back. I have one or two meetings with clients on my calendar. I need to see if I can reschedule them."

"Sure thing," I answered.

"Donny, thanks. Really. I appreciate your help."

A few hours passed before she called me back.

She asked me where to go, and I offered to drive her there myself. I wouldn't be in my father's office while they talked, of course, but I wanted her to know I'd be outside the door as a sort of distant support. I really liked the woman. She was quite attractive, for sure, but there was just something about her personality and carriage which interested me.

"You sure this is okay with you?" she asked as soon as she climbed into my car.

"Of course it is. Don't worry about a thing. My dad's the life of any neighborhood party, but he's all business on the job. He's fair and observant. Think about it like you're only having a conversation. Like you are talking to me or any other friend."

She sighed deeply. "I'm nervous."

I took her left hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Fifteen minutes later, I escorted her to the CoD's office in the Public Safety Headquarters building on Michigan Avenue. I settled into a chair after another mutual hand-squeeze when my father invited River into his office.

An hour and a half had elapsed when a woman knocked on the door separating River and me. My dad beckoned her to enter.

RIVER
2:03pm

"Ms. Marquette, this is June Donaver, a principal investigator from Internal Affairs," Chief McHugh said.

"Hello," I nervously responded and shook the woman's offered hand.

"I'm going to leave the two of you alone because I don't want to bias the conversation. I need you to relate to her every single thing you've told me. I'll be out there if either of you need me."

He left the room.

Another hour transpired as I repeated the conversation almost word for word, with almost identical questions from her, and identical answers from myself.

"Ms. Marquette," she said, "thank you. I promise the stagnation of this investigation will end if I can get answers to some very pointed and probably uncomfortable questions. May I continue?"

I nervously nodded.

"Let me start by asking how you and Officer Swanson met, and the full extent of your relationship."

Another hour elapsed. I was exhausted and in tears by the end of it. When I left the office, Donny was still waiting.

"You look like you've been through the wringer," he said when we were finally out of view from anyone.

"God. I didn't think it'd be so rough. That wasn't just a conversation . It felt more like an interrogation. And not once, but twice !"

"I'm so sorry, River," he said. "I couldn't have known. Are you okay?"

"I will be. I just wasn't⁠—I don't know. I feel like I've⁠—"

"⁠—done the right thing?" he interrupted. "Don't ever tell yourself otherwise."

"Thanks, Donny. I really appreciate everything you've done for me."

He took my hand and folded his fingers through mine as he drove me back to my office where I'd left my car. I brought his hand to my face and subtly smelled the scent of his skin. He gently brushed the back of his fingers over my cheek.

Strings. Strings ? I no longer gave an ounce of crap about strings .

ALEX REID
Monday, October 28, 2019

River and I met at the courthouse an hour before the appointed time so I could coach her. She'd been in courts before, so it was basically a rehash and review of various things other attorneys had likely advised on courtroom etiquette and whatnot. Keep your phone on mute. Don't keep it on the table. Keep it put away. Never interrupt the judge. Don't answer opposing counsel's question without a two or three second delay. It's to give me the opportunity to evaluate it and object if needed. Never, ever speak directly to the complainant, and only to her attorney when you're on the stand.

"All rise!" the uniformed bailiff ordered the gallery. "The 447th Judicial District Court of Cook County is now in session, The Honorable Grace McWhirter presiding."

The courtroom was packed with people, as was typical of every Monday. The court had summonsed probably a dozen cases for the same time slot of nine o'clock. Much like a doctor, the judge expected the litigants to wait on her so she wouldn't have to wait on them. It was well-ordered chaos, and everyone who physically could rose to their feet. Of course, a few elderlies couldn't, as well as one very young woman, one Candace Waters. I recognized her from the photograph River had pointed out to me.

The well-experienced jurist stepped to her chair on the elevated bench, rapped her gavel on its block, and said, "You may be seated. Let's get going. Bailiff, please call the first case."

We sat quietly, watching the proceedings of other cases move rapidly. Judge McWhirter ran a tight ship and kept things moving briskly.

After about ninety minutes had passed, the bailiff looked at the clipboard he was holding. "Parties to case 19-09300116, please rise."

"That's us," I whispered to River.

She and I stood. Another man did as well, standing next to a woman who couldn't. She was in a wheelchair.

"Please come forward," he said, opening the low gate at the bar.

I motioned River toward the left-hand table, and the other gentlemen pushed the other woman's wheelchair to the other table. The bailiff repositioned one of the chairs to make room for her. The three who could remained standing, and the bailiff continued to read.

"Case 19-09300116, Candace S. Waters vee River E. Marquette, with a complaint of willful negligence leading to grievous bodily harm. Complainant seeks redress and compensation of five hundred thousand dollars," he concluded, then stepped back to his desk.

The judge looked over at me and my client for a few moments, then over to the pair at the other table.

"Counselor Waters, would you happen to be related to the woman you're standing next to, or is this one of those happy coincidences?"

"No, Your Honor, it's no coincidence. She is my sister."

"Peter, you're not making the start of the day easy," Judge McWhirter stated with frustration evident in her voice.

That she knew his first name was not at all surprising. We'd both stood before her in court a number of times. She'd learned a lot of names from experience.

That she addressed him by it was an additional hint to her frustration. It wasn't particularly rare for a jurist to address a familiar attorney by first name, but it wasn't common, either. At no time, however, would an attorney ever address the judge in the same manner while he or she was on the bench.

PETER WATERS

"You are aware I don't necessarily like the idea of attorneys representing their own family members, are you not?" the judge asked me.

Yay! Off to the races! I sarcastically thought to myself. Not a good start.

"Yes, ma'am, I am well aware, but I assure you I am able to represent her objectively."

"Ma'am," the judge spoke to my sist⁠—my client. "Please state and spell your full name for the court."

She did.

"You as well, please," the judge spoke to the other woman who similarly complied.

"Counselor, give me the highlights," she directed me.

I spent several minutes describing the chain of events which led to the surgical removal of my sister's lower limb. I kept an eye on the clock because I knew to allow myself no more than five minutes to lay things out.

"Anything else?" Judge McWhirter asked me.

"Just one more thing, Your Honor. I have filed a motion of summary judgment in this matter."

"Mr. Reid?" she said, addressing the other attorney.

I clenched, preparing to have my ass handed to me.

"I am aware. I wouldn't be standing before Your Honor if I weren't prepared to argue it. Suffice it to say there are, most certainly, facts in dispute. I request as quick a hearing on the matter as the court will oblige."

She chuckled at him. "Aren't you on your A game, Mr. Reid," she said. "Quick quick, or normal quick?"

"As soon as you might permit, Your Honor. My client is more than anxious to put this all behind her."

"Very well. Mitzie, short date, please," the judge spoke to her clerk who quickly began clicking her computer's mouse.

"Friday, one o'clock?" she said about thirty seconds later.

"Permit me, Your Honor?" he said, withdrawing his phone from his opened briefcase and holding it up.

She nodded.

He tapped its screen.

"That's agreeable," he said.

"So ordered," Judge McWhirter said before rapping her gavel.

My ass had been sufficiently handed to me, as I expected. Plus, I couldn't object to the quick date because doing so would make it appear as if I weren't at all prepared to argue a motion already filed. The two at the opposing table had little to gather, and I struggled to replace my own papers into my briefcase. I then assisted my sister out of the courtroom.

RIVER

"How do you think it went?" Alex asked me.

"Like a whirlwind. What did all of that mean?"

"Remember how I told you everything these days is filed electronically?"

"Yeah," I said.

"I read his motion already. It was pro forma . Heck. First-year law schoolbooks have better examples. I knew he'd try, but there's just nothing in it. I'm actually surprised at him for not trying harder. I suspect he was hoping I'd ask for a longer interval, and I think it stunned him I agreed to a hearing only a few days away."

"To be honest, it amazed me, as well. I thought courts moved a lot slower."

"Something had to have fallen through on the docket. Maybe a case settled or something, but don't worry about it. Quashing the motion will be easy. I could do it in my sleep."

"If you say so."

"Anywho , remember the bet I made with you a few weeks ago?"

"Remind me," I requested because I couldn't recall it.

"That if he did file the motion, I'd treat you to dinner," he said with a grin on his face.

"Oh. Yes, I remember."

"Give me a call at my office when you want to cash in the chit. But right now, I need to meet another client upstairs for an arbitration," he said, walking backwards.

"Good luck," I said.

He turned, looked at his watch, and began hustling towards a stairwell.

"That guy's an odd duck," I said to myself with a chuckle as I headed for the exit.

I pulled up my calendar app on my cell. Donny had created a shared calendar where he kept his shift schedule, so I knew when he was or wasn't working.

DONAGH
11:22am

I smiled when I'd read the text from River: Hey! You wouldn't happen to be free for lunch, would you? My hearing just ended and I'm in a good mood.

I am. I'd love to meet you. Good news?

Yeah. Some. We can talk about it at a table. What do you have a taste for? I'm up for anything other than Thai.

Shucks. That's what I was going to suggest.
🤣 JK
Do you like Indian food?

A spicy chicken curry with naan sounds awesome! 😋

Tandoor Oven @ noon? It's near the corner of Pershing and Giles.

Perfect. See you soon!

My smile widened. I had barely enough time to take another shower, just in case. I'd even started making sure I took my work clothes off in the laundry room so the odors wouldn't transfer to the clean ones in the closet.

Thirty minutes later, I was standing in the waiting area, peering through the windows until I saw River's long, lithely muscular legs maneuver her up the sidewalk. I opened the door for her and smiled.

"Hi."

"Hey, yourself." She smiled back. "Enjoying your day off?"

"I am now," I said.

She laughed. "Jeez, Donny. You have a life outside of the firehouse, don't you?"

"I do, but it gets better on days like this. Come on. They've already got a table ready for us."

She followed me, and I pulled her chair out for her.

"Thank you, kind sir," she said, with humorous mock pomp, taking the seat.

I was having a difficult time not staring. I mean … jeez . She had to have been the most beautifully and impeccably dressed woman within a mile radius. I'd never before seen her dressed as she was that day. Every other time we'd met up, she was in basic, casual clothing. Something like jeans and a sweatshirt, or jogging pants or sweats, whatever. She looked fantastic in all that, too, but what sat before me was a stunningly beautiful, professionally attired woman in a dark gray knee-length skirt, a matching blazer, and a snug knitted black turtleneck. Man, if it all didn't highlight her shape perfectly.

I was simply entranced.

"Donny?" she said, waving her hand in front of my eyes.

"Oh." I laughed nervously. "I apologize for staring. You are quite a nice sight, River."

She smiled. "I haven't worn this outfit in maybe a year. In fact, I think I was in court then, too. Just a little uppity for the everyday, you know?"

"I don't know whether your suit flatters you, or you it."

"That's very sweet of you," she said, reaching across the table for my hand.

Her fingers felt a tad cool to the touch, so I covered them with my other. She gently squeezed.

Oh, hell. I was so smitten. I was glad to be wearing long sleeves, or she'd have seen the goosebumps flash up my arm at the sensation of her hand in mine.

In short order, our waiter tended to our table, and we selected our lunches. River passed the intervening time filling me in on the hearing.

She chuckled. "You know, I think I've spent more time describing the whole thing than it actually took to happen."

"That fast, huh?"

"Yeah. Alex Reid, my attorney, was really fast on his feet. According to him, the other guy seemed a touch off his game. He said his filings were sort of weak, and he was genuinely taken aback because the Waters guy is supposed to be a good attorney, too. They've argued cases against each other, so I guess he would know."

"That has to give you some confidence, doesn't it?"

"For sure. We're back in court on Friday and I'm curious to see what's going to happen next. He said he and his paralegal are already laying out the whole argument."

We continued to discuss it, then this and that as we dined on our meals. We tried bites of each other's dishes. Her chicken murgh kari packed just the right amount of heat and was probably very satisfying against the nip in the autumn air.

After we split the check, I followed her to the exit, watching her hips sashay as she walked. No limp in sight.

"You look like you've completely recovered," I said from behind her, realizing I'd probably betrayed my eyes' behavior.

If I had, she didn't let on. Instead, she made a grasping motion with the fingers of her left hand, signaling she wanted me to take it and walk alongside her. I did.

"Everything sounds like it's heading in the right direction for you."

"Whoa!" she barked, holding up her other palm. "Don't jinx it!"

I ran my pinched thumb and forefinger over my lips. "Won't happen again," I murmured through one corner of my mouth.

She laughed at my actions.

"Hey. I know you're working tomorrow which also means you're on duty Friday."

"That's right."

"Is there any chance you can swap with someone in the A or B shift so you can be in court with me? It's not a big deal if you can't."

"Would it help?"

"Yes. Knowing you're in the room will bolster my confidence."

I smiled. "Then I shall do my absolute best to see if I can make it happen."

I walked with her the rest of the way to the office building which contained a comfortable two-room suite from where she ran her small business.

"Catch up with you later?" I asked.

"Count on it," she said with a wink as she entered the building.

RIVER
9:26pm

The uptick in my energy after court allowed me to work late. I was glad I had the forethought long before to keep a few spare changes of clothes in one of the file drawers, because as soon as I got there earlier in the afternoon after lunch with Donny, I shed and hung my suit and exchanged my underwear for a comfy pair of briefs instead of the booty-biting thong, and a jog bra instead of the underwire one which had been digging into my armpits for seven hours. Running pants and a sweatshirt completed my casual assemblage for the hours I worked, only pausing for an occasional peach Fresca or a tinkle. I hadn't eaten dinner, but it didn't stop me from unlocking another file drawer and pulling out a bottle of Knob Creek 12 Year Bourbon I'd kept there since a particularly appreciative client had given it to me.

I had just placed the bottle in the bag with my clothes when a reflection distracted me. I saw it on the glass covering a framed print hanging on the wall. The source was the window behind my desk. Someone was shining light through it.

Knowing better than to lift a slat of the blinds, I grabbed and lensed my Canon 7D DSLR, darted out of my suite, hustled down the corridor to the opposite exit at the side of the building, and edged myself around the corner of the building's exterior. I zoomed in on the car which was shining a light attached to its A pillar.

"Oh, hell no," I whispered to myself.

I snapped several photographs, then switched the camera to video capture mode. The image displayed on the backlit LCD was slightly grainy in the low light. I quickly ensured focus and deactivated the display because I didn't want the illuminated panel to betray my concealment. With my free hand, I dialed 911 on my cell.

"911, what is your emergency?" the operator asked.

"Um … there's a prowler or someone trying to shine a light through my office's window. Can you send someone? My office is at Palisade Park, 917 Pershing, Suite 114."

"I'm seeing a unit already at that address," the operator said a few seconds later.

"Why? Why is he lighting things up?"

"It's perfectly normal, ma'am. Patrolmen do things like that all the time. Their lights scatter nefarious people, you know?"

"Oh. I understand. Thanks," I said, "Just so I can be sure, would you please ask them to come knock on the main doors? It just doesn't feel right."

"Sure. I'll send a message to the unit's console."

"Thank you."

Not ten seconds later, the patrol car accelerated with skids out of the parking lot.

"Ma'am, stand by. The unit has departed. It wasn't dispatched, so I'm not sure why. I'll send another."

"No, don't worry about it. I guess the police officer didn't see anything of interest. It's okay. Thank you for listening."

The call disconnected, I went back inside the building and immediately called someone else. The voice which answered sounded fatigued.

"River, are you okay?" his first words, once again, conveying concern for me.

"Something just happened which I can't ignore."