"You go right ahead, sonny. Appeal as often as the law allows. That's your right. But if even one of these witnesses, or jury members, gets so much as a hangnail, I'll put you in super max so fast, your eyeballs will spin." She turned to the bailiff. "Get him out of my courtroom. I don't want to see him until sentencing."
"Guilty on all counts," Anton said as he, Tabitha and the SWAT team walked outside. "What kind of sentence can that carry?"
"Hard to say," Canon replied. "But he sent those boys to die. Even if he didn't pull the trigger, he's responsible. Suffice to say, he's going away a long time."
"I wish we could send the bastard to my country," Tabitha said. "We know how to treat—or should I say, mistreat—prisoners there."
"I don't think we'll have to worry," Newton said. "The families of those boys have friends and family warming bunks in prisons all over the state. Not to mention people he put away, while he was a cop. I wouldn't want to be Oats for anything, once they find out."
"I almost feel sorry for him," Eilene said. "No. I lied. I don't."
A celebratory party was planned at Anton's house. Because of its size, and location, it had become party central. It was also closer to the hospital than some other homes in the city. Since Tabitha had recently moved in, it was a house warming party as well.
"What if we'd lost?" Anton asked Eilene.
"With Judge Walker on the bench? Not a chance."
"She doesn't control the jury."
"No, but there's something about her. She gets what she wants. And you can bet he'll be given the maximum sentence."
"So why isn't the party tomorrow night?"
"We all have to work." She smiled and blew him a kiss.
The police officers had recently come off nights and were switching to days. It wasn't a transition any of them made terribly well. Newton was more distracted than usual, because he planned to ask Eilene to move in. He'd meant to do it before, but Anton and Tabitha's move happened, and he hadn't wanted to steal their thunder—nor did he want his and Eilene's overshadowed.
"Hey, babe?" he called from the kitchen.
She was in the bedroom, packing an overnight bag. It was her turn to spend the night at his place.
"Yeah?"
"Come here a second?"
She walked out, his favorite bra in her hands. It was a pale pink, lacy and distracting. He took it from her, tucking it in his pocket. He held both her hands.
"I have a question for you."
"Okay."
"Would you like to—" His phone rang. His mother. Dammit! She would call back every 30 seconds unless he answered.
"Got to take this. Hi, Mom!"
Eilene took her bra, digging it slowly from his front pocket, making him insane. Stumbling over his words, he tried to talk to his mother.
"It's our fortieth this weekend. You'll come."
She might be Japanese, but she'd learned Jewish Mother Guilt well.
"I'll have to check my schedule. It goes up today, I'll look tomorrow when I go in."
"Call. I'll wait. If your father hadn't met me, where would you be? Not here. And he met me because he checked his calendar, and took a night off—to see his mother!"
"Okay! I'll call. Saturday. Right?"
"Good boy. You remembered."
"Of course, I did. I even have a gift." He made a mental note to buy a really nice gift.
"You'll call me right back." It wasn't a question.
"Yes, ma'am."
A quick call to the station determined that he, and Eilene, had the day off on Saturday. He'd intended to take her to a free concert in the park, but this was Mom. He called her back.
"I'm free. And I'm bringing a friend."
"A good friend?"
"The best."
"Will I get grand children?"
"Negotiable. But possible."
"Good. You bring her. Is she Jewish?"
"No, Ma."
"Pretty?"
"Beautiful."
"Asian?"
"Native American."
"She'll make pretty babies for you."
"I expect so. See you then, Ma."
©2021 Dellani Oakes
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