Hidden Lives

Hannidy was introduced by the prosecutor as a decorated police officer who had won officer of the month on several occasions, most notably, the previous month. He testified that he had witnessed the entire incident and came up in time to subdue Hampton before he could use the gun he had wrested from O'Reilly on his fellow officer.

Blakely was fairly easy on O'Reilly. She asked him if he had interviewed any witnesses to the incident and if there were any police reports mentioning witnesses. He admitted that he hadn't interviewed anyone but that there was a police report from a man named Jason Burg that corroborated his story.

"Officer O'Reilly, would it surprise you to learn that there are eyewitness accounts that directly contradict your account?" Blakely asked.

"Yes, that would surprise me," he said.

"Would it surprise you to learn that there are eyewitness accounts that state that you tasered Mr. Hampton before ever speaking to him, uttered racial epithets, that he was totally incapacitated by the taser and that state that you beat him with your nightstick for several minutes before Officer Hannidy arrived and joined the attack?"

"That never happened," he began to bluster. "I don't know what you're trying to pull here, lady, but it won't work. The sworn testimony of two police officers is more than enough to establish the facts; I don't care what your witnesses say."

"Why is that?" Blakely asked. "Are you telling the court that the testimony of police officers is more reliable than the testimony of ordinary people?"

"Yes it is. People lie all the time."

"Do police officers lie?" Blakely asked.

"No, they don't," he snarled.

"Your honor, the defense will produce expert witnesses that will tell the court that police officers often lie, often deliberately perjure themselves. When we get this testimony we will want to recall officer O'Reilly and officer Hannidy to the stand."

"So noted," the judge intoned.

"Listen cunt," O'Reilly growled. "I don't... "

"Your Honor!" Blakely interrupted.

The judge hammered his gavel. "Mr. O'Reilly, you will address this court and Counsel with respect. You just earned a Contempt of Court citation. How much beyond five days you're going to spend in jail is going to depend on how you conduct yourself for the rest of this trial!"

"She was—" O'Reilly began.

"She was doing her job!" the judge thundered. "You will address her as Counselor or Miss Davidson. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, your honor," he mumbled.

Blakely wasn't so kind to officer Hannidy. "Officer Hannidy, I understand that you were officer of the month, last month," she began.

"That's right, it's the fifth time I've received the award in seven years," he seemed proud of that."

"Does being officer of the month grant you any special powers?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"Does being officer of the month grant you any special abilities, such as X-ray vision, the ability to fly or anything like that?"

"Objection," the prosecutor rose to his feet. "Counsel is badgering the witness."

"Counselor," the judge looked down at Blakely, "is there some point to this line of questioning?"

"There is, your honor," Blakely said. "The defense is prepared to offer testimony that Officer Hannidy could not possibly have witnessed what he testified to because he was two hundred yards away with two buildings between himself and the incident. Unless he has the power to see through buildings, he has perjured himself on the stand."

"Officer Hannidy, do you understand the penalty for perjury?" the judge asked.

"She doesn't have any witnesses," Hannidy protested. "We made sure... we checked to see if there were any."

"I assure you, I have witnesses that will place Officer Hannidy where I stated he was," Blakely said.

"Officer Hannidy, do you wish to change your testimony?" the judge asked.

"No," he said angrily. "I saw the defendant attacking Officer O'Reilly and attempting to wrestle his gun away from him. Burg saw it, too. We have his statement."

When Burg was called to the stand he was sworn in. He was a young black man wearing a gray hoodie and low hanging baggy jeans. He gave his testimony and it corroborated the statements of the two officers. Blakely stood up to cross-examine him.

"Mr. Burg, you stated that you were at the corner of Walnut and Washington at nine ten PM when you witnessed the defendant's attempt to attack and take Officer O'Reilly's firearm. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I saw it," he said.

"Are you certain that you were not seven miles away from the corner of Walnut and Washington at nine ten PM, playing pool in a bar called," she looked at her notes, "Brandywine Pub?"

Burg shot a nervous glance at the two Police Officers. "No, I was at the corner of Walnut and Washington," he said.

"Mr. Burg, I have a police report here charging you with common assault. Do you remember that incident?" Blakely asked.

"Yes, it was self-defense," he said. "They dropped the charges."

"Where do you reside, Mr. Burg," Blakely asked.

Burg was plainly confused by the question. "What?"

"Where do you reside?"

He looked around nervously. "Common assault," he said.

"Is that here in the city?" she asked.

The courtroom exploded with laughter.

The prosecutor sprang to his feet. "Your Honor! The witness clearly doesn't understand the question. She's asking you where you live."

"Counselor!" the judge warned Blakely.

"Sorry, your Honor, I couldn't resist." She chuckled.

"Where do you live, Mr. Burg?"

"2131 Elm Street," he said.

"Is that an apartment above the Brandywine Pub?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And you're certain you weren't playing pool in that pub at 9:10PM of the date in question?"

"Your Honor, the witness has already answered that question," the prosecutor objected.

"You don't have to answer that," the judge said. "Move on, Counselor."

"Have you ever been charged with any other crimes, other than the common assault charges?" she asked.

The prosecutor leaped up again. "Your Honor, the witness is not on trial here."

"The answer has impact on the credibility of the witness," Blakely said.

"I'll allow it. Answer the question," the judge instructed.

"I've been charged with drug possession and breaking and entering," Burg said.

"How many times?" Blakely asked.

"Four times for possession. Once for breaking and entering," he said.

"How many times have you been prosecuted?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"How many times have you been before a judge or brought to trial?" she asked.

"Never," he said.

"Why not?" she asked.

"The charges were dropped."

"Why were the charges dropped?" she asked.

"The police told me if I gave them information about the drugs they would drop the charges," he said.

"Did you receive remuneration in return for your testimony?"

"What?" he was confused again.

"Were you paid?" the judge said.

"Yes," Burg replied.

"How much were you paid?" she asked.

"Five thousand dollars," he said.

"Your Honor, this witness is a paid police informant. We wish the court to make a note of that. We will recall him later when we offer our own testimony," Blakely said.

"So noted," the judge said. "The witness is dismissed. We'll take a recess for lunch."

Blakely gathered her belongings and started to leave. She stopped and a big smile came over her face when she saw Brand waiting for her. She ran and threw herself on him, giving him a kiss that nearly made him fall.

"Wow!" he said. "I'm glad to see you, too. Can we go to lunch?"

"Absolutely," she grabbed his arm.

"Blakely, could I speak with you a moment?" The prosecuting attorney was standing behind them.

"Allen, this is my boyfriend, Brand McCalla. Brand, Allen Holmes. I'm going to lunch with Brand, Allen. What did you need to talk about?"

"Do you have evidence that the police perjured themselves? Do you have witnesses that place Burg at that Pub?"

"I do, Allen. I told you that you should drop this case. You insisted that Officer Hannidy was a decorated officer and that it was a slam dunk. I hate police brutality and corruption, Allen. I'm going to burn them."

"I hate it, too," he said. "Will you let me drop the case and handle it?"

"No, Allen. I gave you the chance to do that. I told you they were lying. I told you they beat that boy and put him in the hospital for no reason. You wouldn't listen. Now I'm going to burn them. Maybe you'll listen to me next time."

"Maybe I will," he chuckled. "Sorry, Blakely. I should have listened to you this time. Am I going to need to arrest the police today?"

"I believe the judge is going to do that for you," she said. "You're a good man Allen, you're just on the wrong side. Have a nice lunch."

She led Brand out of the courthouse and across the street to a deli. They got sandwiches and sat at a table outside.

"I like what you said," he told her.

She tilted her head to one side, making him smile. "What?"

"I like being your boyfriend," he grinned at her.

"Good, I like you being my boyfriend."

They finished their lunch and walked back to the courthouse. She opened a door down the hall from the courtroom and pulled him in. It was a cleaning supply closet and she slammed the door and pushed him back against it, dropping to her knees and pulling down his zipper. He tangled his fingers in her silky hair and she devoured his cock, gagging a little as she took it down her throat; her lips pressing against his pubic hair. She deep-throated his cock and he exploded into her throat, feeling her swallow; the flexing of her throat causing him to cry out. When he was done, she zipped him up and pressed herself against him.

"You can do me later," she whispered. She straightened her clothes, combed her fingers through her hair and opened the door. A man was passing by the door and she put her fingers to her lips. He burst out laughing and continued down the hall. Brand walked her back to the courtroom, his face flaming, and took his seat.

Holmes was done with the case, knowing it was hopeless, and he rested. Blakely began to call her witnesses and the evidence quickly mounted. 17 people were willing to testify that Burg was in the Pub playing pool at the time of the incident. She recalled him to the stand and he admitted that he had been paid by Officer Hannidy to lie. The bailiff led him away in handcuffs.

Blakely produced five witnesses that placed Hannidy two blocks away, taking a radio call before hurrying away to join O'Reilly. Hannidy was recalled to the stand and recanted his testimony before being arrested.

She then called an expert witness to the stand. Randall Peters was a former police chief in Baltimore, and he testified that the police regularly perjured themselves to gain convictions, planted evidence and provoked violence.

"Do you believe that the police routinely lie under oath to obtain convictions?" Blakely asked.

"It's an open secret long shared by prosecutors, defense lawyers, and judges that perjury is widespread among law enforcement officers ... police lie to avoid letting someone they think is guilty, or they know is guilty, go free," Peters said.

He testified that 76 percent of the police officers on his force, in an anonymous survey, admitted that they frequently bent the facts to establish probable cause, and 48 percent said that judges were right in tossing police testimony as untrustworthy.

She then called 12 witnesses that testified that they saw Officer O'Reilly use his taser on Wayne Hampton before speaking to him, that he had used racial slurs and that he beat Hampton with his nightstick as he lay, incapacitated, on the ground before being joined by Hannidy who also used his nightstick to beat Hampton."

Blakely concluded her case and the judge ordered O'Reilly's arrest and dismissed all charges against Blakely's client.

Brand watched as a tearful mother and grandmother hugged Blakely and celebrated with Hampton. She saw Brand waiting for her and ran down the aisle to him, throwing herself on him again and she saw her eyes were moist.

"Little lost girl or courtesan?" he asked.

She laughed up at him. "Definitely courtesan," she said. "Take me home with you, Brand. I want to sleep in your bed tonight."

"What about your car?" he asked.

"We'll pick it up tomorrow," she said. "No, let's leave yours here. I want to be mauled on the way home."

"No dancing?" he smiled.

"No, this is the thrill of victory, not the agony of 'de feet'," she giggled.

"A pun!" he laughed. "You continue to surprise me, Blakely."

"Take me home," she said. "I'm going to make you have a heart attack and then revive you and cook you dinner."

"You do know the way to a man's heart," he laughed. "You're driving and I'm going to give you a first-class mauling. Don't wreck and kill me. I won't be wearing a seatbelt."

She didn't, but it was a close thing. Her skirt was up around her waist before they got out of the parking garage, and by the time they got to the highway it, and her shoes were all she had on. Brand had two fingers inside her dripping pussy and one delicious fat nipple between his teeth. He was pulling on the other and Blakely was moaning.

"Bite it harder," she begged. "Oh, God, Brand; I need it. Fuck me with those big, fat fingers. Wait! Don't make me come! We'll die if you do, because it's going to be a big one!"

She pulled onto the shoulder and he tipped her over the edge, using three fingers now and his thumb on her clit as he twisted her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She slumped for a moment and then moved back onto the highway as he kissed his way all over her gorgeous body, squeezing her breasts and stroking her thighs. Her legs amazed him. Each muscle group was so clearly defined, but she was so soft and silky.

"You have the most beautiful legs," he told her. "I think you work out."

"I do," she told him. "You better not get fat and flabby on me, either. I wanted to be a dancer when I was in school, and I was very good at it. I danced for a year in New York City before I finished my law degree. My boobs got too big and I retired."

"I can tell by looking at them and watching you dance," he said. "Now I'm going to make you come again."

She squealed as he nipped at her inner thigh and manipulated her clit with the tips of his fingers. Blakely was flying. She felt so warm and so alive, her performance in court fueling her excitement and the man she realized she loved driving her wild. Thankfully, she pulled into his driveway before he drove her insane and he got out and carried her inside. He took her to his bed and she proceeded to fuck him into total exhaustion. When ten minutes of her oral ministrations failed to make him more than half-erect, she gave up and they napped, naked in each other's arms. When he awakened, he smelled something delicious. She was in the kitchen, as naked as the day she was born, cooking something that involved a lot of garlic. She made him clean garlic cloves, red leaf lettuce and Romaine hearts while she finished her cooking. She put the meat she had been cooking on a plate and they rolled it up in the leaves with a plum sauce she had made and ate it rolled up. The timer went off and she jumped up and took bread out of one of his ovens, they bit garlic cloves in half and rubbed them on the buttery bread. By the time she ate two pieces and he ate four the timer on the other oven went off and she got out a dish of chicken breasts, pan fried and cooked in a creamy sauce. They drank wine and ate chicken until they were stuffed.

"You're a very good cook," he told her. "How did you learn so many things? How old are you, Blakely?"

"I'm 32," she said. "I know you're a year older than me. Brand, I need to go home and get my stuff to stay with you, and I need to check my computers. You can go with me but you can't come in my office, okay?"

"Absolutely," he said. "Do you have any ice cream?"

"I have lime sherbet," she said.

"Perfect, we'll have dessert," he told her. He got a bag of Milano cookies, put on boxers and she drove naked to her house. She quickly finished her business and they sat on her sofa and ate sherbet and cookies before she pulled on a t-shirt and shorts and they drove back to his house. Brand had a hot tub and she stripped so they could get in. He couldn't keep his hands or his mouth off her, and he soon had her squirming and panting. He sat her on the edge of the tub and tongued her little pussy until it became so sensitive she begged him to fuck her. He was happy to carry her back inside and take care of that itch. They fell asleep, and in the morning she was gone when he got up. She texted him at work, asked him to dinner and they set a time to get together.

He saw her pull up in a yellow and black Dodge Charger. It was one of the Super Bees, and he fell in love with her all over again. She came in, causing a stir in the restaurant as every head turned to watch her walk to him. He stood and she kissed him. They ordered and she was quiet.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Well, sort of," she said hesitantly. "I have to go out of town tomorrow, Brand. I'll probably be gone a week."

"Okay, I'll see you when you get back then," he said.

She looked up at him hopefully. "You mean you don't mind?"

"Of course I mind," he said. "I'll miss you like hell. It's going to be like I'm missing a limb, but you have something you need to do. I know you aren't leaving because you don't want to be with me. How could I doubt that after the last week? You'll be back when you're done, right?"

"Oh, yes, I will. Thank you for being understanding, Brand. I just didn't want to disappoint you by leaving so soon. It's work, and I have to do it. I promise I'll spend every possible minute with you when I get back."

They spent the night at her house and she was such a bundle of sexual energy he wondered if he'd ever recover. He got up to see her off the next morning, and when she kissed him goodbye she whispered in his ear. "I love you, Brand. All the way. I can't wait to get back."

He could hardly speak. This little angel, little devil, loved him. "I love you, too," he managed to croak from his suddenly constricted throat. "I love you more than I ever dreamed I could."

She was gone and he felt miserable. He moped around the rest of the day until his secretary asked him what was wrong.

"I'm in love," he smiled at her.

"Well, if this is love I'd have to see you get dumped," she laughed. "You're supposed to be happy when you're in love."

"She's out of town," he explained, "and she just told me she loved this morning as she was leaving."

She texted him every day and called him twice while she was gone. They talked for over an hour each time, and she called him from the airport when she arrived. He told her to come over when she got settled in and when she got there he was waiting, sitting in a rocking chair on the porch. She jumped out and the sight of her in a little red flowered sundress nearly made him cry. She danced up the steps and he met her at the top, swinging her around and squeezing her until she couldn't breathe. She kissed him over and over.

"Do you still love me, Brand?" she looked up into his face, molded against him.

"More than ever," he said. "God, I missed you, Blakely."

"Me, too," she said.

"Did you have a good trip?" he asked.

A shadow passed over her face, and then she smiled up at him. "It was okay," she said. "I missed you, though."

Two weeks later, they were sitting on her sofa and she had been pensive. She looked up at him. "Have you ever been married, Brand?"

"No, I was engaged once," he said.

"What happened? Why didn't you marry her?" she asked.

"We were in college," he explained. "We were still kind of young and wild. We partied a lot. I had a final I needed to study for and she went to a party with a girlfriend. They drank a lot and smoked some weed. A group of them went over to this guy's house. He was some kind of a big shot drug lord. He let the drugs flow for free to his party guests and Lilly, that was her name, tried some meth. That really got her going and they had quite a party with her and some of the other girls. She tried some more and her heart just stopped. They dumped her body in an alley downtown and that was it. The police investigated, but the guy went back to Mexico and they never caught him."