What a Fool Believes (4 page)

Read What a Fool Believes Online

Authors: Carmen Green

BOOK: What a Fool Believes
13.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Chapter Six
“Why can't we go inside?”
Outside of courtroom A, Tia stood with her second cousin and attorney, Leroy Muller. Thrice divorced because of his wandering eye, he ignored Tia in favor of the butt of a healthy, bright-skinned woman.
Tia squeezed his wrist, fingernails first.
“Ouch!” His confused gaze flew to her. “What'd you do that for?”
“I'm about to have my day in court. Can you please focus? What's the holdup?”
“They're not ready.”
Inadequate, but an answer.
She hoped she didn't regret throwing her business to a relative. “What's going to happen?”
“When you go before the judge, he'll read the charges. The
ADA
will state the recommendation we worked out, you'll waive your right to a trial, you're sentenced, then we leave.”
So why am I paying you?
she wondered but tried to squelch that evil spirit. Lately, everything got under her skin.
A by-product of being cheated on,
she supposed.
Leroy's eyes flew to a woman with forty-plus breasts and a thirty-something waist. Tia forgave him. Everybody looked.
“Damn, did you see that?” he asked, as if another woman's boobs would make her brain turn to mush. His lack of tact lit the fuse in her stomach.
She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. “Has the reason I'm here escaped you?”
“Man! You sure have changed.” Leroy voiced his contempt with a frown. “You used to be nice. What happened?”
Trich. Crabs. Arrest. Bail. Hospital bill. Court. Possible compensation to Dante. Leroy had dropped that bombshell on her yesterday afternoon.
She was already out of a fortune, and her temporary lapse of sanity had changed what would have been a simple breakup into her not being able to get into the condo. But worse, she couldn't force Dante out.
The sheer irony was that she was paying the mortgage to save her credit and was homeless at the same time.
February was no longer her favorite month of the year.
Tia huffed and tried to swallow her impatience with a deep breath. She wanted to unleash the full scope of her anger, then drown her sorrows in a bottle of something brown that smelled like her grandfather's bedroom.
But the wind whistling through her checkbook would only allow for a half-drunk drowning. That left her with too many un-drunk nerve endings.
She huffed again and enunciated her words. “Will I ... have to ... pay Dante?”
Leroy looked unsure. “I don't know.”
“Thank you,” she said, although, again, it was not what she wanted to hear.
When her father had called from Las Vegas, Nevada, this morning, with his sage advice of deny, deny, deny—he hadn't trusted a cop since 1972—she should have guessed the day wouldn't go well.
But her mother had tricked her and called from a blocked caller ID number, and Tia had stupidly picked up the phone.
“Hello” from Tia had triggered Millicent Amberson, with her five-generation Baptist roots, to start praying. Tia had hung on for the first four minutes, a comb jabbed into her hair, hot curlers smoking on the bathroom sink, and one eye on the clock.
But when her mother asked for forgiveness for trying to raise her child in the way that she should go and failing—“Look at Tia,” she'd actually said those words—Tia set down the phone; finished curling her hair; pulled on her stockings, skirt, and jacket; and packed her briefcase.
She picked up the receiver in time to share an amen, then, so as not to seem blasphemous, thought a prayer as she drove in to work with stale raisin toast, between her teeth.
Clearly, her misfortunes were in direct response to her lack of faithful participation.
“Your mom still going to that Holy Roller church?” Leroy asked, looking for middle ground.
Tia sighed. “She and Daddy moved to Vegas, but she's still a card-carrying member.”
“It beats the opposite,” he said dryly. Five years ago Leroy's mother, Aunt Julia, had packed up and moved to a colony of self-prescribed witches.
The ground leveled.
“Auntie Millicent still calls and leaves prayers on my answering machine,” he added. Guilt tinged Leroy's eyes. “I don't really mind, except she talks up my whole tape.”
The earth shifted, and a fissure opened beneath Tia's feet. “She's been known to do that to strangers, too.”
“Wow,” he said.
“Yep.”
Tia let the discomfort sift away with the sieve of distance. She focused on the growing crowd that had gathered outside the courtroom door. She had expected to see well-dressed, clean-cut, remorseful people who were ready to admit to their crime and accept their punishment.
But one group defied the typecasting because of the smiles on their faces. “Who are they?” she asked Leroy.
“All those people have cases to be heard.”
Leroy was referring to the fifty or so blacks and Mexicans, a few whites, and one Asian man.
“Now answer my question.” Tia glared him.
“They're spectators,” he mumbled.
“What?” The hellfire chorus started rehearsing in her stomach. “Is this the new cheap entertainment?”
“There're a few law school students.” They both saw one man with a backpack and dreadlocks.
In a quick motion, Tia had Leroy's wrist, her nails poised above a vein.
“Okay.” Leroy did the foot-shifting, eye-wandering thing, then shrugged. “Friday court is the substitute
Kings of Comedy.
” He dared to crack a smile. “Sometimes, it's just funny. I guess word got around.”
Luck wasn't something Tia had ever counted on, but she occasionally felt she deserved it. Obviously, the T-shirt she won at fifteen was the extent of it. She massaged her aching forehead. “I can't believe this. I didn't do anything wrong.”
“You need to stop saying that. You were cold busted by a cop.”
“It's nearly four. I thought the proceedings would be completed by now.”
“So you miss the five o'clock news.” That was another of her passions, and possibly the reason she and Dante were a couple no more. “What's your rush?”
“I don't belong here,” she said loudly. “You think you're better than us” glares were cast her way.
Leroy made her face the wall. “Would you calm down? Everything's under control.”
The officers stepped from the courtroom, and everyone gravitated into crooked rows.
Leroy swung them into line, mindful of her healing foot.
“They ought to be ashamed of themselves. People deserve privacy,” Tia mumbled, fighting anger.
“Shh.”
She ignored him. “They won't get a show from me. You can take the death grip off me now.”
“Not until you promise to keep that trigger-happy temper under wraps.”
Leroy gave Tia's purse to the officer while she was wanded and searched by another officer.
Humiliated, she stepped on the cold floor while they looked in her shoes.
Why didn't the happy ladies have to take off their shoes?
Leroy must have caught the gist of her thoughts, because he quickly stepped out of his tie-ups, forcing the officer to glance in them.
Tia entered the courtroom. Twelve officers were posted along the walls and in front of the bench.
The spectators chattered away. Everyone else was silent.
What would the judge say to her?
Would he question her motives?
She hoped not, because she still didn't understand why a relationship she'd been willing to commit her life to had ended in such a bizarre manner. She couldn't understand why the man she'd thought herself in love with had done her so wrong. And she couldn't understand why she was being punished and he wasn't.
With the bench empty, the TV screens blank, officers immobile, and the seats filled, she thought of a hundred places she'd rather be.
Helpless anger prompted the hellfire choir in her stomach to hum.
Tia took a seat in the second row, next to Leroy. “Plead me guilty, and get me out of here.”
“Tia, these were extenuating circumstances, and the judge will see that. Do you see your arresting officer?”
A tingle ran up her legs to her chest. She didn't want to look. Finding him would, in a sense, confirm her guilt, but she braved her fear and glanced around. Relief and a glimmer of hope moved in her chest. “No. Is that good?”
“Could be. The
ADA
could ask for a postponement but will probably drop the charges. The court's calendar is overbooked.”
“Why didn't you tell me that before?” she whispered. “I've been worried out of my mind—”
“The
ADA
told me he's never late for anything. So although he's not here yet, he'll probably show up.”
And emotionally, she'd be back where she'd started.
“Don't worry,” was all Leroy managed before the judge entered.
“All rise.”
Tia said a quick prayer, stood up, and didn't turn around again. If Officer Rivers was there, she'd know soon enough.
Chapter Seven
“Ms. Amberson, you are hereby ordered to take sixty hours of anger management classes.”
“Yes, sir,” Tia responded to Judge Dunn.
“You're fined two hundred dollars for vandalism.”
She whispered to Leroy, and he addressed the court. “Your Honor, the defendant owned the tires.”
The judge read the document again. “That may be true, but just as you own your house, you don't have the right to burn it down.”
Snickers resounded from the gallery. Give them some popcorn, and they'd be at Magic Johnson's theatre. Judge Dunn looked over his glasses at her, a mischievous grin on his face, and Tia immediately knew two things. The judge was gay. And, when he took off that robe, he was a flaming drama queen.
“Did you say something?” Judge Dunn asked innocently, inviting her to cut up.
“No.”
“Did you want to say something?”
Tia licked her teeth and shook her head. No way was she going into her invisible closet and coming out in a sequined dress, five-inch fingernails, and sista girl wig on. “No, sir.”
“Ah, well.” The judge gave a disappointed sigh. “Is the arresting officer present?”
The assistant district attorney perused the courtroom and threw up her hands. “Officer Rivers was supposed to be here.”
“I guess this is your lucky day,” the judge said to Tia. “The other charges are dropped.”
“Uh, Your Honor?” Dante rose from the last row, pulling at the suit Tia had bought him two Christmases ago.
Tia's heart hammered. This was the first she'd seen him in weeks.
All the books she'd read on healing from a broken relationship covered this moment. But she didn't feel longing or confusion or loss. She felt pure, uninhibited anger. He'd used her and had been scamming her from the beginning. And now he was here to take the only thing left: her sanity.
He may have played her for a fool, but in the long run, she would win. Knowing this didn't stop the anger.
“May I address the court?” Dante said.
Gleefully, the judge lowered the gavel. “I don't know. Who are you, and what do you want?”
Dante came forward and moved next to the
ADA.
What did he think he was doing, auditioning for
Law & Order
? “Uh, I'm Dante Manuel, the victim.”
This brought giggles from the gallery.
An inch shy of six feet, Dante hardly looked like a victim. More like a down-on-his-luck door-to-door salesman.
Were those extensions in his greasy head?
Yuck.
Tia made herself look away. With each passing second, the desire to punch him increased. As a precaution, she took two steps closer to the police officer. That way he could easily zap her ankle with his Taser, and she'd avoid a homicide charge.
“Your Honor, it was my car Ms. Amberson vandalized. And I feel that some kind of rectification needs to take place.”
Ill-concealed laughter rocked the stuffy courtroom.
Not the big words.
He must have found her
Expand Your Vocabulary
book, looking for the fifty-dollar bill she kept hidden in there for emergencies.
Tia took a deep breath, held it, and started counting. If she calculated correctly, at about 450 seconds, she should drop dead.
“And what type of rectification would you like?” the judge asked, his mental TiVo recording for on-demand playback.
Dante swayed, getting into it. “I think some community service is good, and jail time wouldn't hurt. Uh, I mean, I don't know if she's going to snap again. I mean, she looks fine now, but you never know.”
The judge's clerk covered her face with her hands and shook her blond head.
“Mr. Manuel,” the judge said, trying to keep a straight face. “You'll have to provide your own personal security if you're scared of Ms. Amberson.”
“I didn't say I was scared.” Dante looked at Tia—and blinked first. “M-maybe I'll think about that.”
“Good.” The judge lifted the gavel.
“Uh,” Dante interrupted. “Do I get the two hundred dollars the court is collecting?”
Howling, stomping feet, and clapping echoed off the four walls. The judge bellowed and only stopped laughing to wipe his eyes.
Leroy looked at Tia, and for one moment, they were caught together in the vortex of shame. He objected, to no avail.
Dante had done something she'd never thought would happen to her. He'd bubble-gummed their names under the circus heading freak show.
“She's probably as stupid as him,” a woman said, loud enough for Tia to hear. Leroy objected, while the judge tried to restore order.
Tia made a silent vow that if she ever committed another crime of passion, she'd do it in Winder, Georgia, where the probability of the gallery being filled with frightened white people was very high.
The judge's professional face struggled to return. “Mr. Manuel, we don't offer rebates. Ms. Amberson, are there articles that have to be removed from the residence?”
“Sir, the condo is mine. I bought it from the bank after it was foreclosed on. Although it was Mr. Manuel's property
before
and
during
the foreclosure. We were going to live there together, but he made another choice, and consequently, we're not together.”
“I see. Well, that changes things.”
Tia held her breath.
“I don't think she deserves the place, Your Honor,” Dante said. “She bought it for me. That's why
she
left.”
The lie slipped easily from Dante's mouth, and for the first time ever, Tia found him to be a believable actor.
The whole relationship had been a lie, and she'd been his sexual and financial means to food, clothing, and shelter. And he'd been her unsuccessful foray into opposites attracting. Where was the love she'd had for him?
Drowned in crab killer and Jheri–curl juice, no doubt.
“Your Honor,” Dante continued, “she promised to take care of me in the downtime. Can I get palimony?”
“No!” Judge Dunn bellowed, trying not to lose the battle to another bout of hysterics.
“Shut up,” Tia muttered through bared teeth.
“What?” both Dante and Judge Dunn replied.
“Nothing, Your Honor,” Leroy said and gave Tia a stern look.
Tia bit her tongue and sniffed the air, smelling smoke. She searched for the source and realized it was her ridiculous life!
She'd dedicated her career to becoming the kind of person people would take seriously. But they wouldn't now. Not after this. If Dante said one more thing ...
“Ms. Amberson, if there's another outburst, you will be in contempt of court. And the fine is hefty. Fifty dollars a word. Understand?”
Tia didn't move. She felt that if she nodded or spoke, she'd go airborne, leaving the amused cop at her side zapping wind.
“She understands,” Leroy answered, a death grip on her elbow. “When can my client regain possession of the property?”
“Seventy-two hours. Officer Rivers can escort her to the property to make sure there are no complications. And that should be enough time for Mr. Manuel to find other accommodations.”
Tia wrenched her elbow free. She was fine. As long as Dante didn't say anything else stupid.
“I need more time, Your Honor,” Dante said, sounding pitiful.
“Do you work?”
“I'm between projects,” he confessed.
The judge sighed dramatically. “And why is that?”
“Because the parts I play are complexual. That's complex and intellectual at the same time. I won't take just anything. The part has to fit me.”
“Interesting,” the judge said, his hands white against the black robe. “When was the last time you had a role that met your criteria?”
“Two years ago. I had a callback for a movie with Jamie Foxx, but I didn't get it, because of her.”
“What did Ms. Amberson do?”
“Your Honor, I don't see how any of this matters,” Tia interrupted. “He's in the condo I own.”
“Ms. Amberson, please refrain from commenting until called upon. I've already warned you,” the judge admonished.
Dante's smug look made her want to scratch his eyes out.
“As I was saying,” Dante continued, “I feel that after all the hard work and energy I put into my home, I shouldn't have to give it up to a woman who was just using me for my elite address, among other untangible things.”
Tia swayed, while fire from her stomach reached her throat. “Shut up using the wrong words,” she said.
The judge banged his gavel. “Quiet,” he warned everyone in the courtroom.
“And she gave me a disease,” Dante complained loudly.
“You lying dog,” Tia exclaimed.
The judge banged the gavel until he was red in the face.
Tia felt her neck being held tightly and realized it was Leroy. “You're going to jail if you say another word, and I'm not going with you! Say something else,” he threatened, “and I swear, I'll walk out like I don't know you.”
Tia elbowed her cousin away. He wasn't helping her in the least.
“Ms. Amberson,” the judge said, “I won't tolerate outbursts in my courtroom.”
“What about the fact that he's lying?” Tia demanded. “I see that it's amusing to you and the rest of the people in this courtroom, but it's not a damned bit funny.”
“Don't curse,” Judge Dunn ordered.
“Excuse me, but he's lying, and you're not stopping him,” cried Tia. “Am I supposed to just take it?”
“Yes! I can see that there were no boundaries in this relationship. Since you took matters into your own hands, Ms. Amberson, take responsibility for this. You will be fined fifty dollars for every word hereafter. Mr. Manuel, you have seventy-two hours to vacate the premises, or you'll be held in contempt.”
How dare the judge pass judgment on her life? “There were boundaries, Your Honor,” Tia said with earnest, “But they didn't include sleeping with other women.”
The audience erupted again.
The judge held up his hands, nodding. “Ms. Amberson, I'm warning you for the last time.”
Dante's chest had deflated now that the audience was turning on him. “Maybe if you weren't so square, you wouldn't be manless,” Dante said, cocky now that she'd been reprimanded. “A little diversity never hurt nobody.”
Tia pushed Leroy aside and leaned across the aisle, while Dante hid behind the
ADA.
“You non-fucking piece of crap. There aren't two women alive who'd want your scabby little wiener. Go to hell.”
“Remove him from my courtroom!” The judge had turned a burnished shade of red and was now standing. Control was gone on both sides of the bench. And Tia didn't care. The judge had allowed a mockery to be made of her life.
“How much is that, Cindy?” the judge bellowed.
“One thousand dollars.”
“You have anything else to say, Ms. Amberson?” asked the judge.
“It's the best thousand dollars I've ever spent,” Tia retorted, defiant and satisfied for the first time since this debacle began.
Thunderous applause rippled through the room. The judge's gavel clattered onto the desk.
“Deputy, escort Ms. Amberson to the clerk and then out of the building via an exit other than Mr. Manuel's. Ms. Amberson, I feel as if we'll see each other again.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Believe me, I hope not too. Dismissed.”
Judge Dunn banged the gavel, and Tia turned around.
Officer Byron Rivers stood at the back of the courtroom, an indescribable look on his face. Tia wasn't sure if it was repulsion or embarrassment. Either way, she didn't want to see her life further decimated. He could speak up, and the nightmare would continue.
He was by the book, she'd been told. Never late for anything. A stickler for the law.
Finally, he moved as if in a dream, tipped his head, and was gone.
Tia allowed herself to be led out, hoping she'd never see Dante or the judge again.
If only she could say the same for her arresting officer.

Other books

Veritas (Atto Melani) by Monaldi, Rita, Sorti, Francesco
My Heart's Desire by Jo Goodman
Warning by Sophie Cunningham
The Girl Who Wasn't by Heather Hildenbrand
El caballero de Solamnia by Michael Williams
Pride and Pleasure by Sylvia Day
The Hidden City by Michelle West
Heart of the Family by Margaret Daley