Bang, You're Dead

Bob finally got a chance to speak to Jimmy as they were leading him out of the office. "Jimmy, Lou Heckly; he's my attorney. He's in the computer. Call him and let him know what's happening."

"Okay, Bob. I'll call him right now."

Three hours after Bob had traded his sports jacket for a bright orange jump suit he was sitting across the table from his lawyer in the city's main jail.

"I can't believe this, Lou. I honestly didn't believe they would arrest me."

"To be honest, I didn't either. Are you sure you didn't leave something out of what you told me? Anything at all?"

Bob thought hard but came up empty.

"Okay," his lawyer acknowledged, "you'll be arraigned tomorrow at ten. I'll meet you in the court room. I assuming you want to plead not guilty."

"Of course. What about bail?"

"I'll do what I can but you know yourself, the court is very reluctant to set bail on a capital offense."

"Shit. I wonder if anyone's told Cindy and the kids yet. What am I going to tell them, Lou?"

"Do you want me to talk to your wife?"

"Could you? I'd appreciate it. Maybe you could ease her mind some."

The thin, grey haired lawyer confirmed he'd talk to Bob's wife with a nod of his head. "Do you want to see her? You want me to arrange a visit?"

Bob thought about it. "No, not yet. Just tell her you're working on getting me out of here as quickly as possible. If it looks like I'm going to be in here for a while we'll talk about it again but for right now let's hold off."

"Okay. Does she know about the affair?"

"No. I was going to tell her and I chickened out. I was really hoping to get through this thing without having to tell her but it doesn't look like that's going to happen, does it?"

"No, Bob, it doesn't. I'll talk to the D.A. between now and tomorrow morning and try to convince him he doesn't have enough evidence to charge you, but I wouldn't count on my persuasiveness. If that doesn't work I'll visit your friend, the one you were with and try to convince her to give me a sworn statement that you were together at the time your partner was killed. If that doesn't work our last resort is the pre-lim I told you about."

Bob sighed. He was losing hope that he was going to get out of trouble unscathed. As he sat in his holding cell all he could think of was losing his family. It was more troubling than the thought of spending time in jail. Several times during the night, tears filled his eyes.

The next morning he met his attorney in court for his arraignment. Obviously the D.A. was not convinced to drop the charges. Bob was being charged with conspiracy to commit murder and murder in the first degree. When asked by the judge, Bob's attorney pled his client not guilty. A bond hearing was set for later in the day. Lou spoke up before the judge's gavel had a chance to fall.

"Your Honor, I'd like to schedule a preliminary trial at the court's earliest convenience."

"For what purpose, Mr. Heckly?"

"Your Honor, I was surprised to hear the district attorney's office even brought charges against my client. Their so called evidence is circumstantial and flimsy at best."

The magistrate looked at the assistant district attorney who offered no objection so he glanced at his calendar. "I will hear arguments on the fifteenth, one week from Friday," he said with the crack of his gavel.

The bond hearing didn't turn out in Bob's favor. His attorney argued he had been in law enforcement and was a family man but his profession worked against him. The A.D.A. successfully reasoned that Bob had the resources to disappear if he wanted to. The judge agreed and bail was denied.

Bob's attorney knew getting Morgan Anderson to admit being with his client at the time of the murder was going to be an uphill battle so he didn't call ahead the following day but simply showed up unannounced.

At the sound of the doorbell, Morgan answered it by opening the door just enough to talk but staying behind it for protection. "Yes?"

"Hello, Mrs. Anderson. My name is Lou Heckley. I'm an attorney at law," he said while pulling out a business card and offering it to her.

Morgan took the card and looked at it. She knew right away what it was going to be about but she wasn't going to give in. "How can I help you?"

"May I come in, Mrs. Anderson?"

"Not until you tell me what this is about," she stated.

He knew this wasn't going to be easy. "It concerns Robert Sanders, ma'am. Due to the nature of the subject I'm sure you'd want to discuss this inside."

"I have nothing to discuss, Mr. Heckley. Have a good day."

Before he could say another word she closed the door on him. Heckley shook his head as he walked back to his car. She was only making things worse for herself. He could have explained that to her if she'd have given him a chance. Now he had no choice but to subpoenas her to testify at a public pre-lim.

While his attorney was driving back to his office, Bob was facing one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. He sat across the table from his wife in the visiting room of the jail. Her lovely face was streaked with tears.

"Bob, I don't understand this. How can anyone think you had anything to do with Troy's murder? Why did they arrest you?"

He took a deep breath to try and steady his nerves. "Troy and I had an argument a couple days before he was killed. I don't even know how they found out about it but they did."

"And that's it? They arrested you because you had an argument?"

"No, there's some other things. It's all circumstantial but they think they have a case."

"Bob, I..."

"Cindy, there's something I have to tell you," he said, cutting her off in midsentence.

She immediately panicked, thinking he was going to confess to her. She put her hand to her mouth. "Bob, no; you...you couldn't..."

He saw the terror in her eyes and realized what she was thinking. "No, honey; of course not. I had nothing to do with Troy's death. No, that's not what I was going to say."

She let out an immediate sigh of relief.

"No," he went on, "but I do have something to tell you that you're not going to like, honey." He took another deep breath. "Oh, God this is so hard. Honey, I love you with all my heart and I would cut off my right arm before hurting you but..." He stopped to gather more courage.

"What, Bob; what did you do?" She'd never seen him like that. She was scared.

"Honey, you were never ever supposed to know. I don't want to hurt you or take a chance on losing you but you're going find out and I'd rather it be from me." He took another short breath. "Honey, I've been having an affair."

Except for a small audible gasp, Cindy was stunned into silence. Her eyes bore into her husband's, searching for some sign of mendacity but all she saw was pain and regret. She wasn't even aware of the tears that filled her eyes. Unable to fully comprehend what her husband had said she simply rose from her chair and walked away. She thought she heard his voice calling to her from somewhere in the back of her mind but she paid no attention.

***

The next morning Morgan was fully awake long before Ian's alarm went off. She had a terrible night, tossing and turning with a real fear of the future. All night long she tried to come up with a plan; some way of avoiding the truth from getting out. She was still deep in thought when the alarm startled her. She felt Ian roll over on his side so he could reach it and turn it off. She closed her eyes and pretended she was sleeping when he got up to take a shower.

She thought she felt guilty before, now she was racked with it. She was being tortured with the thought of her affair coming out in the open. She never really thought it would come to that. She tried to blame it all on Robert. After all, he was the professional. It was his job to make sure they never got caught.

She heard Ian step out of the shower and go to his dresser for underwear. She could feel his eyes on her as she still faked sleep. She heard his footsteps coming closer and felt him sit down on the bed, next to her. She could barely keep from breaking out in tears as she felt his lips gently kissing her own.

"Wake up, sleepy head," he teased with a smile.

She had no choice. She opened her eyes and forced a big smile of her own. "I love you," were her first words.

Ian leaned down and kissed her again. "I love you too, babe." As he pulled away, the sadness in her eyes caught his attention. "Honey, what's wrong?"

Her mind screamed at her to own up and confess. It was going to come out. It was obvious; like a freight train bearing down on her, she couldn't stop it. She had to throw herself at her husband's feet and pray he forgave her—but she couldn't. She just couldn't bring herself to hurt him like that.

She forced the tears of regret from her eyes. "I just don't ever want to lose you, honey, that's all," she told him with a slight smile.

"Lose me? Ha, ha," he joked. "Don't worry, honey, I have a homing device right here," he said, pointing at his heart. "It keeps me from getting lost." He gave her one more kiss and a hug. "I've got to run, honey. It's getting late. The kids have to get up."

"I know. I'm coming," she replied.

With Ian at work and the kids at school, Morgan sat at the kitchen table desperately trying to think of a way out of her mess. Of course she knew there was no way. Sooner or later Ian would find out. In her own mind she knew it would be better if it came from her but try as she did, she just couldn't muster the courage to tell him.

A little after one in the afternoon her doorbell rang. She glanced out the small window of the door to see who it was. If it was that damn lawyer she wasn't even going to open the door. It wasn't though. It looked like some kind of delivery man. He had on a bright red shirt with a logo embroidered on it. He had a package in his hands. Morgan opened the door. "Yes?"

He read from the label on the package. "Ms. Morgan Anderson?"

"Yes, but I wasn't expecting anything."

The man reached in his back pocket and pulled out an official looking paper folded to the size of an envelope. "You've been served and it has been witnessed," he said, pointing to another man standing on the sidewalk. "You've been summoned to appear as a defense witness in the matter of the state versus Sanders on the fifteenth, ma'am. All the information is there. If you fail to show a warrant will be issued for your arrest. I understand you're very reluctant to testify ma'am but you have no choice."

He heard the pretty woman start to cry as he turned his back to walk away. He had been warned that she might be hard to serve and would probably have to be called as a hostile witness but he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She was most definitely a woman in anguish.

After having no idea how long she had been slumped in the doorway, Morgan finally got to her feet and staggered to the kitchen table. She opened the summons as if it was her death warrant; if fact, that's exactly how she viewed it. It was Wednesday. The fifteenth was Friday. She had only two days to figure out what to do.

***

The days dragged on for Bob. He couldn't even imagine having to spend the rest of his life in an eight by ten foot cell like he had been. All he could think about was how much time he was losing to find Troy's real killer.

"Sanders," yelled the guard while banging on his cell door at the same time with his night stick. "You got a visitor." He and another guard put shackles on his ankles and wrists in preparation for the seventy-five yard walk to the visitation room. They showed him to a table where he sat thinking he was about to see his lawyer. He was surprised to see who came through the door.

"Jimmy, what are you doing here?"

Even though Jimmy had seen his share of prisoners in orange jump suits before, it was hard to see his boss like that. "Hi, Bob. How're you doing?"

"Just peachy," he sarcastically commented. "What's going on? Have you come up with something?"

"Well, I'm not sure it has anything to do with Troy's murder but do you remember the Murphy girl; Andrea is her first name?"

With everything else he had on his mind he had to think for just a second. "Yeah, sure. She's the one who was adopted. Troy was trying to find her real dad. What about her?"

"Someone tried to kidnap her this morning."

"What? Kidnap her—who?"

"They don't know but the vehicle had Indiana plates."

While Bob thought that over, Jimmy continued. "She was lucky. There just happened to be an off duty cop nearby who heard her scream. The guy slugged her to shut her up and was about to throw her in his pick-up when he saw the cop running toward him. He left her in the street and took off."

"Is she alright?"

"She's a little bruised up and pretty rattled but she'll be okay. She called the office looking for Troy. She didn't know. She broke out crying when I told her he'd been killed."

Bob was deep in thought and didn't even hear Jimmy's last statement.

"Bob, you think this could be linked to Troy's murder? I mean, it's quite a coincidence."

"I was so sure it had to be Bracken but you're right, Jimmy, and you know me; I don't believe in coincidences."

"I know you don't. That's why I came right over. What should I do, Bob? You want me to go to Indiana and ask around?"

"No!" he almost yelled. "You stay away from there. I should be out of here in another two days, I hope. Where is she now?"

"Ah, I'm not sure."

"Well call her. I don't want to take any chances of something happening to her, she maybe our only link to Troy's killer. Use our account and put her up at the motel. Tell her not to say anything to anyone about where she's staying, not even her dad. At this point we trust no one, hear me?"

"Yeah, Bob. I'll get her over there. What about you? Is there anything I can do to help get you out of here?"

"I appreciate it, Jimmy, but no. Heckley is working on it. Hopefully I should be out in a couple of days. In the meantime keep Andrea safe."

"I will, Bob. You can count on me."

As his visitor left, Bob realized how lucky he was to have Jimmy working for him. He wished Angie would come back but knew she wouldn't.

***

Every time Morgan tried to confess to Ian she would chicken out. She just couldn't do it. Of course she knew he would find out and it would be better if she was the one to tell him but she never found the words.

After dinner, Thursday night, Ian noticed his wife had been very quiet. When he asked her if something was wrong she smiled up at him and said she was just thinking of what she had in store for him after the kids were asleep. Ian met the news with a big grin and a kiss.

Later that night Morgan followed through with her promise. It would most likely be the last time she would make love to her husband and she was going to do everything in her power to let him know how she felt about him...even though she knew he'd no longer feel the same way about her after the following day.

At bedtime she had her seduction all planned out but this time it was Ian who took the reins. She ached with desire as he slowly undressed her. His tender kisses electrified her soul as his lips touched her flesh. The caress of his fingertips sparked the depths of her passion.

Morgan clung to every sensation of rapture, every feeling of pleasure, every sentiment of love. She committed it all to memory for after that night memories would be all she had left.

For Morgan sleep was elusive. She gently got out of bed before Ian's alarm went off and snuck down stairs to make coffee. That was usually Ian's job. He didn't eat breakfast in the morning but he did like a good strong cup of java before leaving the house.

He was still grinning from ear to ear from the night before when she kissed him goodbye and watched his car pull out of the drive. The wonderful life she'd known was now ticking away minute by minute. She got the kids out of bed and made their breakfast while they got dressed. She wanted so much to walk them to the bus stop but they were too old for that anymore so she just watched as they disappeared around the corner.

Time was short. She had to be in court by ten. Her life felt to be drawing to an end with each piece of clothing she packed. She assumed Ian would want her out of the house when he came home. At least she wouldn't have to torture him by taking the time to pack her clothes. When she was done she hid the suitcase in the back of her closet and took a quick shower. Tears rained down and mixed with the cascading spray from the shower head.

By the time she reached the courtroom, Morgan was in a mental fog. Almost incoherently she took a seat and looked around. The lawyer who was at her house was seated at a table at the front of the room. A side door to his left opened and two uniformed men escorted Robert to a seat next to the lawyer.

Bob quickly scanned the courtroom before sitting down and saw Morgan staring at him with hate filled eyes. He couldn't really blame her. Yes, she was a willing participant but he must have assured her a hundred times that they'd never get caught and she believed him.

Morgan saw him whisper something in the lawyer's ear and he turned to look at her. He stood and made his way to her side. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Anderson, I really am, but I can't let my client go to prison for something he didn't do. I honestly don't think you could live with that either," he said before returning to his seat.

Morgan still held on to the tiniest smidgen of hope that Ian would never find out any of it until she saw Paul Enroe walk in. He was a reporter that worked for her husband. It was the final thrust of the dagger into her heart.

The prosecution was first to present its case. When they were done the judge was already starting to side with the defense. His attorney put Bob on the stand first to refute each piece of so called evidence one by one.

As Bob stepped down his attorney called Morgan Anderson to the stand. Her heart was beating so hard she wasn't sure she would make it. She heard the bailiff drone on about telling the truth and recited her reply as if she were in a trance. As Bob's lawyer approached she turned her head and stared daggers into her former lover's heart.

"Mrs. Anderson, I know you didn't want to come to court today. I know you are making a sacrifice in the name of justice and let me assure you, it is greatly appreciated." Now that he laid the groundwork, he was ready to continue. "Mrs. Anderson, do you know Robert Sanders?"

"Yes, but I wish I didn't."

"And how do you know him?"

A tear broke free from one eye and trickled down her cheek. "I...he...we...we had an affair," she revealed as a second tear broke free from her other eye.

"Ma'am, I won't ask you to go into detail but can you tell me where you were on the morning of the second, about nine-thirty."

She glanced over at the shocked face of Mr. Enroe who was busy taking notes. She had nothing more to lose. "I was at the Chicagoan motel with him," she said, pointing at the defendant.

"How long were you in his company?"

"Till about noon."

"Mrs. Anderson, was Mr. Sanders in the room when you walked in?"

"Yeah; it was going to be our last time. He was holding a bottle of Champaign when I walked in."

"I have just one more question, Mrs. Anderson. Did Mr. Sanders ever leave the room between nine-thirty and noon?"

"No," she responded.

"That's all I have your Honor."

The judge looked over at the prosecution. "Mr. Smyth, do you have any questions for this witness?"

"No, your Honor," replied the A.D.A. "Your Honor, in light of this testimony, the state would like to drop the charges at this time but with prejudice."

The judge addressed the now grief stricken Morgan. "Mrs. Anderson, you're excused, and I hope things work out for you."