THE ACCUSER

 

By:  Kenda

    

     Part 1 in this trilogy is entitled The Accusation.   Part 2 is entitled The Accused. The Accusation and The Accused can be found in Kenda’s Emergency Library.

 

 

*************

 

 

     It wasn’t easy mucking horse stalls with one arm.  It wasn’t easy doing much of anything with the use of just one arm, though the frustration John Gage felt over this inconvenience wasn’t nearly as great as it might have been at one time.  After all, having your left arm in a cast from knuckles to shoulder was a minor concern when compared to being put on trial for rape.  Which was exactly what Johnny was facing in a few short weeks.  To make matters worse he couldn’t defend himself.  Though it had been a month and a half since he’d been trapped in the Clariton Mine with Vanessa Schaffer, Johnny still had no memory of that attempted rescue thanks to the concussion he’d suffered when the mine caved-in on him and the girl. 

    

     Johnny tried not to think of all that had happened since that day, - the humiliation of the preliminary trial where Vanessa described in detail sexual acts the paramedic had supposedly forced her to do.  The newspaper and TV coverage that made his name and face recognizable to more people than Johnny ever cared to know.  The incident at the Wild Ride Amusement Park where two ten year old boys pushed Johnny from a roller coaster walkway eighty feet in the air because they were protecting their female classmates from the ‘bad fireman.’  Then the final heartache came when the department put Johnny on administrative leave.  He knew he should be grateful the phrase ‘administrative leave’ meant he was still getting his full pay and benefits.  They could have just as easily put him on leave without pay.  Nonetheless; it made Johnny feel like the department he’d faithfully served for nine years was turning its back on him because he was a source of bad publicity.

 

     Johnny knew he should also be grateful for the loyal friends and co-workers who were voicing their support of him.  Not a day had gone by since he’d been released from the hospital after his fall that he hadn’t received at least half a dozen phone calls from various people checking up on him, or had a visitor be it Roy, Dixie, one of the guys from the station, or even Kelly Brackett.  Johnny appreciated everyone’s concern, but wished they just leave him alone.  He wasn’t good company right now, and would rather find solace in his horses than with people.  At least the horses didn’t expect him to answer questions with more than a terse, “Yes,” or “No,” nor did they care if he was losing weight, nor did they attempt to get him away from the ranch by insisting he go out to dinner, or fishing, or to a ball game.

 

     Johnny had been forced to put a smile on his face at ten o’clock this morning when the DeSoto family showed up.  It was Saturday, meaning the kids came with Roy and Joanne.  Johnny hadn’t seen Chris or Jennifer since the day Jenny was in tears over the prospect of none of her friends coming to her birthday party because her Uncle Johnny was her daddy’s friend. 

 

     When Johnny walked out of the barn at the sound of a car coming to a halt in his driveway it had taken tremendous effort on his part not to tell Roy to go home.  He wasn’t in the mood for visitors anymore than he had been the day before when Dixie and Kelly Brackett had dropped by and insisted he join them for lunch at a local restaurant.  When Joanne walked around to the trunk of the Impala and pulled out a big cardboard box with a popular grocery store’s logo on the side Johnny knew that once again someone was on a campaign to make sure he ate.

 

     “Hi, Johnny,” Joanne greeted as she stood on her tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek.  “The kids wanted to have a picnic with their favorite uncle today, so we decided to surprise you. I hope you don’t mind.”

 

     “No,” Johnny lied, though even to his own ears his words didn’t sound convincing.  “No, I don’t mind.”

 

     The kids hung back, unsure of how to greet this man who was suddenly unfamiliar to them.  Gone was the big grin and dancing eyes that were always present the second he saw them.  He barely took notice of either one of them now, and he was so skinny, just like their father had said.  Skinny and pale, Chris thought, despite the fact that Uncle Johnny was spending most of his free time with his horses these days, meaning he was outside more than he was anywhere else. 

 

     Jennifer clung to Roy’s hand.  She hadn’t been shy around Johnny since the first day she met him.  Now she suddenly felt like that three-year-old girl again meeting her daddy’s new partner for the first time.  She lifted her right hand and gave the paramedic a little wave with her fingers. 

 

     “Hi, Uncle Johnny.”

 

     “Hey, Jenny Bean.”

 

     “Does your arm hurt?”

 

     “No, not too much.”

 

     “Can I give you a hug?”

 

     “Since when do you have to ask?”

     Jennifer smiled and dropped her father’s hand.  She stepped forward as Johnny crouched down to greet her.  He encircled her with his good arm and accepted her hug.  She kissed his cheek and thought it felt hollow, like all the smiles his face normally held that gave it shape had been chased away by something sad and troublesome. 

 

     “I’m sorry those kids pushed you,” Jennifer said softly into Johnny’s ear. “I don’t know why they did that.  If I’d been there I wouldn’t have let them hurt you.”

 

     “That’s because you’re my best girl and you’re always looking after me, huh?”

 

     “Uncle Johnny, some poor girl has to have that job ‘cause you need a lot of looking after.”

 

     Johnny chuckled.  “That I do, Jenny Bean.  That I do.”

 

     Johnny stood and ran a hand through Chris’s hair.

 

     “Hey, Sport.”

 

     “Hey, Uncle Johnny.”

 

     “How’s baseball season coming along?”

 

     “Pretty good.  We’ve only played two games but we won both of ‘em.  I wish you could have been there to see the last one.  I hit a homer.”

 

     “That’s great,” Johnny said, though his voice held none of the enthusiasm it normally would have at this announcement.  In part, because his mind was barely on Chris’s words, and in part because the last thing he wanted to do was subject the DeSoto children to any more ridicule than they’d already suffered because he was their father’s friend.

 

     “So will you come to my next game?  It’s Tuesday night.”

 

     “I’d like to, Sport, but I don’t think I’d better.”

 

     “Why not?”

     “Chris,” Roy interrupted,  “don’t pester Uncle Johnny about your game.  He’s still got his arm in a cast.  He doesn’t feel like doing too much right now.”

 

     “But he’s working in the barn.  All he’ll have to do at my game is sit on the bleachers.”

 

     “Christopher, that’s enough,” Roy said.  “We came over here to help Uncle Johnny, not to bug him to do things for us.”

 

     Chris’s eyes dropped to the ground, embarrassed that he’d been scolded in front of Uncle Johnny.  He gave a small nod of his head, then felt his father’s hand pat his back.

 

     “Why don’t you go in the barn and start cleaning stalls.  I’ll be in to help you in a minute.”

 

     “That’s not necessary,” Johnny said.  “You guys don’t have to do this.”

 

     Actually, I just wish you’d leave, Johnny thought as he saw Jennifer pull a bag out of the car that had a feather duster sticking out the top.  I love all of you to death, but I’m just not in the mood to have the Cleaver family invade my space today.

 

     Because Johnny didn’t want to hurt any feelings he stifled the urge to speak the words running through his head.  He watched Joanne and Jennifer head toward the house where evidently a round of cleaning and cooking was going to ensue.  Johnny swallowed a sigh as he turned to follow Roy into the barn.

 

     “Hey, Chris and I are going to do this,” Roy told his partner.  “Why don’t you relax on the deck?”

 

     Because this is my home and I don’t feel like relaxing on the damn deck.  I was perfectly happy doing what I was doing before you guys showed up.  And doing it alone, I might add.

 

     Once again Johnny kept his thoughts to himself.

 

     “No, I don’t feel like relaxing right now.  I wanna finish what I was doing.”

 

     “Okay,” Roy conceded.  “But we’re here to help you.”

 

     “So I noticed,” Johnny mumbled as he brushed by his friend.

 

     Roy gave a tiny shake of his head before entering the barn.

    

     Joanne, I told you this might not be such a good idea.  I think I should have ‘dropped by’ alone for a few minutes and let it go at that. 

 

     Roy knew there was no way to change what had already been done, so like his son, he grabbed a pitch fork and went to work beside a silent John Gage. 

 

_______________________________

 

     Two hours later every stall in the barn was clean, and thanks to Chris, the tack room was straightened and organized.

 

     Joanne called for Roy to come to the deck and light the grill, which Johnny realized meant it must be close to twelve o’clock if it wasn’t that time already.  He’d only eaten a peach for breakfast, and that was five hours ago now, but not even the slightest hunger pain rumbled his stomach despite his morning of physical labor.

 

     Chris carried the pitchforks over to a wall that held a row of hooks.  He hung the tools back in their places while asking,  “Uncle Johnny, how come you said you’d better not come to my game?”

 

     Johnny turned from the doorway where he’d been watching his three horses prance in the corral. 

 

     “What?”

     “My game.”  Chris faced the paramedic.  “You said you’d better not come.  Why?”

 

     “I said I can’t come.”

 

     “No, you didn’t.  You said, ‘better not.’  Which is a lot different from can’t.”

 

     “Better not or can’t, either way it doesn’t matter, Chris.  I just won’t be there this time.”

 

     “Is it because of what that girl said about you?”
    

     “Chris, I really don’t wanna talk about this.”

 

     Chris DeSoto was nothing if not persistent when his curiosity got the best of him.

 

     “Because I don’t care what she said.  And I don’t care what other people say about what she said.  I just want you to--”

 

     “Dammit, Chris, drop it!  I told you I don’t wanna talk about this!  You might not care about what other people say, but I sure as hell do!”

 

     Chris fought to still the trembling of his lower lip while tears filled his eyes until everything in front of him was one big blur. Uncle Johnny had never shouted at him before, or used swear words in front of him.  The boy was just about to turn and run from the barn when he felt an arm encircle his shoulder.  At first Chris thought the person offering him comfort was his father, but then he bumped into a cast and heard his Uncle Johnny’s anguish-filled voice as the paramedic crouched down beside him and pulled him close.

 

     “I’m sorry, Chris.  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to get mad at you, to yell at you like that.  I’m sorry, Sport.  I’m sorry.”

 

     Chris buried his head in Johnny’s shoulder so the man wouldn’t see him cry.

 

     “No. . .no I’m the one who should say sorry.  I. . .you told me you didn’t. . .didn’t wanna talk about it.  Even my. . .my dad told me not to talk about it with you.  It’s just that. . .I don’t. . .Uncle Johnny, I don’t understand why that girl is saying things about you that aren’t true.  Why. . .why is she telling everyone you hurt her when. . .when you didn’t?”

     Johnny ran his right hand up and down the boy’s back.  

 

“I don’t know, Sport.  I just don’t know.”

 

     Chris lifted his head from Johnny’s shirt.  He swiped an arm across his eyes.  “But her lies might make a judge put you in jail.  Doesn’t she understand that?”

 

     “I imagine she does.”

 

     “Then why?”

 

     “Chris, believe me when I tell you I wish I knew the answer to that question.”

 

     In so many ways Chris DeSoto was like his father, even at the young age of ten.  Unlike Jennifer, Chris rarely spoke of his feelings.  It was through what he did for people he cared about that he showed his love and concern.  Like the way he’d cleaned the tack room without being asked.  That’s why the hug he gave Johnny now meant so much to the paramedic.

 

     Chris wrapped his arms around Johnny’s neck.   “I don’t want you to go to jail.  It scares me to think about it.”

    

     Johnny wished he had words of reassurance to offer the boy, but he didn’t, so he simply told Chris the truth.

 

     “It scares me, too, Chris.”  Johnny placed a kiss on the child’s temple.  “It’s scares me, too.”

 

     Roy DeSoto turned from the doorway, leaving the barn as quietly as he’d entered.  Telling his son and his partner lunch was ready could wait.  Roy had a feeling both Chris and Johnny needed this hug more than either one of them realized.

 

     As Roy walked back to the deck he wished he knew how to help his partner.  Trouble was, short of shaking Vanessa Schaffer until he got the truth out of her, there was little Roy could do for John Gage except be his friend.

    

_______________________________

 

     The Station 51 A-shift returned for duty at eight on Monday morning. After roll call Roy and his temporary partner, a new paramedic by the name of Jim Huntley, did their morning call-in to Rampart.     After they checked the supplies in the drug box and trauma box Jim went to clean the dorm while Roy went to do the same in the kitchen.  Roy was just finishing up when Chet and Marco came in to take a ten minute break from hanging hose.

 

     “So how’s Huntley doing?”  Chet asked while he poured himself a cup of coffee.

 

     “Okay.”

 

     “Okay?”  Chet questioned, as he took a seat at the table.

     “Yeah.  Why?”

     “There wasn’t much enthusiasm behind that okay.”

 

     Roy shrugged.  “He’s doing fine.  He’s a nice kid, and with a little more experience under his belt will be a good paramedic.”

 

     “But he’s no Johnny Gage.”

 

     Normally Chet didn’t irritate Roy, but the blond man was running on little sleep right now and not in the mood for Chet’s observations.    Roy whirled from the cabinet where he’d been putting away the last of the dishes that C-shift never got a chance to wash the evening before.

 

     “No, Chet, he’s not Johnny Gage!  He’s not my partner!  But I’d better damn well get used to it because the way things are looking right now my partner might never be back.   Is that what you wanna hear?”

 

     Both Chet and Marco stared wide-eyed at the paramedic who so rarely raised his voice that they couldn’t recall the last time they’d heard Roy shout.

 

     “Look, Roy, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean it any other way but as a compliment to Johnny.”

 

     Roy dropped his forehead into one hand and massaged his throbbing temples.

 

     “I know.  And I’m sorry, too.  It’s just. . .I’m really worried about him, guys.”

     “Me and Marco are worried about him, too.  We stopped by his place yesterday to see if he’d go fishing with us.”

     Roy brought his head up.  “Did he?”

     “No.  Said he had stuff to do.  He looks. . .Roy, he doesn’t look good.  I used to think Gage was skinny enough to thread through a needle, but now. . .well let’s just say that expression takes on a whole new meaning now.  And he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.  Me and Marco wanted to hang around and help him do whatever it was he wanted to get done, but he more or less told us to get lost.”

 

     “I know,” Roy nodded.  “I took Joanne and the kids over there on Saturday morning. By the time we finished eating lunch I could tell we’d overstayed our welcome.”

 

     Marco opened the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice. “But this whole thing will only be harder on Johnny if he cuts himself off from everyone.”

 

     “You’re probably right,” Roy agreed. “But we can’t make him extend invitations to us.”

 

     “So what do we do to help him?” Chet asked.

 

     “Just what we have been, I guess.  Keep checking up on him through phone calls and dropping in every so often.  Johnny knows we care, Chet, and he knows any one of us would do anything for him.  Or at least I hope he knows that.  But Johnny’s the one who has to tell us what he needs from us.”

 

     “Man, this just pisses me off,” Chet declared with a vehement shake of his head.

 

     Marco looked up from the glass of juice he was pouring.  “What pisses you off?”

 

     “This whole situation.  That girl.  Her lies could ruin Johnny’s life.  Man, I’d like to confront her and ask her just what the hell she thinks she’s doing.”

 

     “We all would,” came Hank Stanley’s voice from the kitchen doorway.  “But for the sake of our jobs, and the reputation of this department, none of us are going to do that.  Do I make myself clear, Kelly?”

     “Yeah, Cap, you make yourself clear.  But how does that help Johnny?”

 

     Hank Stanley sighed as he crossed to the coffee pot. 

 

     “It doesn’t, Chet.  That’s the sad thing about all this.  What we can’t do doesn’t help Johnny at all.  And neither does what we can do.”

 

     The room fell silent as the men pondered the truth behind their captain’s words.  Roy was glad when the tones sounded a few seconds later.  If nothing else it got all of them away from the depressing atmosphere of the station.  The station that no longer seemed like Roy’s second home without Johnny there by his side.

 

_______________________________

 

     A week had passed since the Saturday the DeSoto family had descended on John Gage’s ranch.  Of course Vanessa Schaffer had no way of knowing that, even though Johnny Gage rarely left her mind these days.

 

     Vanessa sat on the cushioned window seat clutching Buster, her old brown teddy bear, to her chest.  It seemed like she clutched Buster a lot these days, as though his silent presence could bring her both comfort and answers.  So far the faithful friend had proven to be little more than something to hold onto when the choice between right and wrong, and the urgency to make that choice, threatened to overwhelm the girl.

 

     The view from Vanessa’s second story bay window was one she treasured no matter the season.  No one could say her parents hadn’t built their dream home without comfort in mind for all the family members inhabiting it.  Vanessa’s room was at the front of the house. Beyond the yard and driveway were the gently rolling hills of the desolate canyon.  Vanessa heard her father say more than once in recent months that with the rate new homes were being built in this area the peace and quiet they’d come here for when they’d escaped the suburbs would be gone in a few short years.  Vanessa hoped that wasn’t true.  She loved being able to look at the overgrown grass as it swayed in the gentle spring breeze.  Now it was green, but come summer it would be yellow and dry from lack of rain.  Late in the fall it would turn brown and die off for a few weeks, then be revitalized by the winter rains.  But no matter the color, Vanessa never tired of the view.  If you only looked out her window you wouldn’t realize the Schaffers had a neighbor a quarter of a mile away.  The world appeared endless from Vanessa’s room.  Or so it had seemed until recently when the world began to close in on the teenager, threatening to suffocate her and her ugly lies with each breath she took.

 

     A knock on her closed door brought the girl’s head around.

 

     “Vanessa, what’s for lunch?”

     The girl glanced at her bright yellow alarm clock.   She didn’t know where the morning had gone.  It was now almost noon.  Of course Nick would be hungry.

 

     “I. . .make yourself whatever you want!”

 

     “Can I make something for Lance, too?”

     Lance was Nick’s best friend and lived in that house a quarter mile from them.

 

     “Sure!  Just don’t leave a mess in the kitchen!”

 

     “I won’t!  Do you want something?  I could make you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich!”

 

     “No, thanks!”

 

     “Okay.  But if you change your mind let me know!”

 

     Vanessa heard her brother’s tennis shoes thump on the carpeted steps as he dashed back to the first floor.  She couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.  They’d always been close, and she knew everything that had happened since she’d been caught in the mine cave-in had left Nicky worried and confused.  Her parents had only told Nick that she’d been hurt by John Gage.  Typical of them, when he asked them what they meant by the word ‘hurt,’ they’d told him he was too young to understand and sent him out to play.  Not that Vanessa expected them to give Nick a blow by blow description, but she thought they could have done a better job of calming his fears than by simply dismissing him from the room.  But then that was how they handled everything.  No discussion.  No explanation.  No questions allowed.  Just a dismissal when they deemed it time for you to go.

 

     Boyish laughter drifted up to Vanessa from the kitchen.  She could only imagine the mess Nick and Lance were making down there, but she left them to their fun.  Her parents were gone today.  They’d departed at six o’clock that morning for a church retreat two hours away.  They weren’t expected to return until six o’clock that evening.  Vanessa imagined Nick was enjoying the freedom of being out from under their often ridged thumbs as much as she was.  Or at least as much as she usually did on the rare occasions when both her parents were gone and Vanessa was left in charge of her brother and the household.  For some reason today she didn’t feel like listening to the radio station her mother didn’t approve of because of the popular rock tunes it played.  Nor did she feel like taking advantage of the privacy she had to talk on the kitchen phone to her girlfriends like she generally did when she had the house to herself.  Nor did she feel like watching any television shows her parents would frown upon, nor reading the Harlequin Romance novels she got from the library that her mother would have a stroke about if she ever caught sight of their covers.

 

     Vanessa glanced at one of those novels now.  She’d tossed it on her bedside table a few hours ago when she found she couldn’t keep her mind on the printed page.  The cover showed a young woman with light brown hair the color of her own, being held so tenderly by a man with coal black hair that fell in unruly waves to his shoulders.  The man was looking into the woman’s eyes in a way that said he loved her with all his heart and would sacrifice his own life before he’d let anything happen to her.  The man made Vanessa think of Johnny.  He looked a little like Johnny, too. Thin yet strong.  Handsome with high cheekbones, dark hair and warm brown eyes the color of a Hershey bar.  That’s all Vanessa had ever wanted from Tommy, to be cherished in the same way the heroines in her romance novels were cherished by the men who loved them.  She’d tried to convince Johnny that he could love her that way, but now she knew how foolish that notion had been.  She was only fifteen and he was thirty.  Of course he couldn’t fall in love with her.  He’d only done the right thing by being honest and telling her that.  And how had she repaid his honesty?  By lying about what had gone on between them in the mine.

 

     Vanessa heard the front door slam, then watched as Nick and Lance crossed the front yard.  She could tell they both had something in their mouths, either Fudgesicles or Popsicles, which she wasn’t certain from this distance.  Nick was carrying a paper bag that probably held their lunch, and Lance had two cans of Coke under one arm.  Vanessa felt a pang of guilt, knowing she should have made the boys something to eat like her mother would have wanted her to.

 

     Mom would be mad at me if she saw Nick eating his dessert before he’s eaten his lunch. 

 

     Vanessa’s eyes tracked the boys’ movements. When they disappeared over a rise in the canyon she knew she should run after Nick to remind him of the boundaries her parents had long ago set forth in regards to how far he could wander from the house.    But for whatever reason she wasn’t so inclined.

 

     He’ll be fine.  Besides, I bet Nicky enjoys a little freedom from Mom and Dad’s rules every now and then as much as I do.  Dessert before lunch isn’t going to hurt him.  And if he wanders a little farther than Mom and Dad approve of that’s not going to hurt him either.  We’ve lived out here since he was seven. He knows his way around.  Plus, Lance is with him.  All they’re going to do is hike and talk about whatever it is that comes to a ten year old boy’s mind when no parents or older sisters are around to listen.

 

     An hour passed before Vanessa set Buster aside and flopped stomach down across the orange and yellow patchwork quilt on her bed.  She thought of the upcoming trial for a long time.  A female counselor provided to Vanessa by the District Attorney’s office had been preparing her for the trial for weeks now.  She knew exactly how she was to respond to almost any question she might be asked.  And at the end of each session the counselor always smiled at her and emphasized, “The best thing you can do, Vanessa, is just tell the truth.  No matter what Mr. Gage’s lawyers do, no matter how they might try to tear your story apart, you just look them straight in the eye and tell them the truth.”

 

     The counselor’s words echoed in Vanessa’s head now as she reached for her book.  She didn’t open it, but instead studied the man on the cover.  She traced a finger over the sharp planes of his face.  It was so easy to gaze upon this slightly exotic looking person and think of Johnny.  To think of the man her lies might send to prison.

 

     Vanessa bit back her tears.  She was so tired of crying.  With utter despair she buried her face in her pillow.

 

     Oh, what am I going to do?  Who. . .who can I talk to?  I need help, but I don’t know who to turn to.  They

 all. . .they all think I’m so perfect.  A good girl, with good grades, who goes to church and lives her life by the teachings of the Bible.  But I’m not that perfect girl.  I’m just. . .I’m just a regular girl who’s made some stupid decisions and told some horrible lies.  Oh, Lord, please help me.  I need to talk to someone. . .to someone who can help me figure out what to do, but I don’t know who that someone is.

 

     Vanessa fell into a troubled sleep. She spent her dreams searching for a nameless face she could confide in, and crying when that person never appeared.

 

_______________________________

 

     Johnny knew returning to this area of Mason Canyon was foolish on his part.  If someone saw him and recognized who he was God only knew what kind of story would appear in the newspaper.  But something even Johnny couldn’t identify was urging him here.  He thought it might have to do with his memory loss surrounding the rescue Vanessa Schaffer.  If he came back to the Clariton Mine maybe something about the place. . .the landscape. . .the smells. . .the sounds, would cause a door in his mind to open that would finally reveal all he’d forgotten.

 

     It was a good thing for Johnny that it was his left arm in a cast. He needed his right to shift gears on the Land Rover.  The Rover was able to bump up to within a few feet of the mine’s entrance just like the squad had been able to do all those weeks before.  Johnny hesitated a moment before shutting the vehicle off and climbing out.  He shoved his keys in the front pocket of his blue jeans, then walked around the front of the truck.

 

     The mine’s entrance was once again boarded up.  A new sign that declared in bold, black print; DANGER.  KEEP OUT, stood guard in front of the mine.

 

     John Gage might be a dare devil at times, but he wasn’t an idiot.  He didn’t attempt to get into the mine regardless of how much he might have liked to. Instead he stood on the outside just staring at it, as though it was suddenly going to start talking to him and give up all its secrets.

 

     The early April sun was warm on Johnny’s back in a way that would have normally brought him comfort.  Today, like all days he’d experienced since February 26th, nothing brought him comfort.  Not the sun, or the occasional chirping of a bird, or the sound the grass made when it rustled in the gentle breeze, or the beauty of the landscape surrounding him.  The trial was set to start in three weeks.  Johnny had no more to offer now in his defense than he had at the preliminary hearing.  He had a sinking feeling his answers of, “I don’t know,” and “I don’t remember,”  weren’t going to get him far with a jury.  Especially when you considered what he’d been charged with.

 

     Johnny stared at the mine a few minutes longer before finally turning away in defeat.  He knew he should get in the Rover and drive back home, but right now home was the last place he wanted to be.  As much as he loved his ranch it had become his self-imposed prison ever since he’d been put on leave from the department.  Other than the times he was forced to run an errand, or someone dropped by and insisted on taking him out to eat, he’d stayed on the ranch.   No matter where he went it felt like everyone was staring at him.  Realistically he knew that wasn’t true, yet considering all the publicity his case had garnered, often times a good number of people were staring.

 

     Because there was no one around to stare now Johnny decided to take a short hike.  The breeze was cool on his bare arms.  He couldn’t get a long sleeve shirt over his cast so had been forced to wear T-shirts or polo shirts ever since the accident.  Today he had on a tan polo shirt some past girlfriend had given him for his birthday.  She said tan was a good color on him.  That it brought out the brown in his eyes.   Johnny briefly wondered if prison stripes would be a good color on him as he slowly made his way up the first hill.

 

     _______________________________

 

     Nick Schaffer stuffed the empty lunch bag and soda cans in the crevice of two boulders.  He knew better than to be a litter bug, and made a mental note of where the boulders were located so he could retrieve the trash on his way back home.

          

     Nick hiked beside his best friend Lance.  The ten year old boy loved the outdoors and was glad his parents moved here from the small suburban home they used to live in.  Or at least he had been glad until six weeks ago when that fireman hurt Vanessa in the Clariton Mine.  Nick still wasn’t sure how the man had injured his sister, but he’d overheard enough to know whatever the man did was bad.  He’d been in court with his parents the day Vanessa had to tell her story, but his Grandpa Schaffer had taken him out of the room when Vanessa was called to the witness stand.  Not that Nick wanted to leave, but his parents insisted.  When he told his grandpa he wanted to hear what Vanessa had to say the man simply patted him on top of the head and replied, “Oh, Nicky, some things just weren’t meant for the ears of a ten year old.”

 

     Whatever was going on was confusing, that was for sure.  Nick’s parents spent a lot of time whispering, and they always looked worried now.  And Vanessa. . .well Nick had heard her crying in her room more than once since she’d been hurt, but every time he knocked and asked her if she was okay she simply said through the door, “Yes, Nicky, I’m fine.  You go play now.”

 

     But Nick knew his sister wasn’t fine.  And lately she’d been spending even more time in her room.  He would be glad when the trial was over and that fireman went to jail.  Maybe then things would get back to normal and Vanessa would be happy again.

 

     For now Nick put his worries behind him as he romped with Lance. First they pretended they were settlers making their way across the continent on a wagon train, then they were Indian scouts slinking through the tall grass, then they played a round of cops and robbers using sticks as guns.  Nick paused as he waited for Lance to stand up from where he’d fallen after being ‘shot.’  He looked around and realized they’d come farther from home than he was allowed.  He wasn’t too concerned.  After all, it wasn’t like he was lost.  And his parents wouldn’t be home for hours yet, so there was no fear of getting grounded for breaking the rules.  Nonetheless, Nick supposed he and Lance should start heading back the way they’d come.

 

     The boy brushed his auburn bangs from his blue eyes as his tow headed friend stood. 

 

     “Come on, let’s be Indians again,” Nick said as he dropped to all fours and began crawling through the grass in the general direction of their houses.

 

     “Okay,” Lance agreed, copying his friend’s movements.

 

     The boys’ game of pretend was livened when Lance suddenly stood up.  He pointed a finger. 

 

     “Look, Nick!  Wolves!  Man, this really is like being an Indian scout.”

 

     Nick pushed himself to his feet.  He cupped a hand over his eyes to protect them against the sun’s glare and squinted.  He wasn’t sure what wolves looked like, but he’d never heard of any being around here.  The pack of animals who had stopped their travels to stare at Nick and Lance looked more like German Shepherds to Nick.  When their ears flattened against their heads and they growled unison Nick tugged on the sleeve of his friend’s Starsky and Hutch T-shirt. 

 

     “Lance, we’d better get outta here.”

 

     The boys took three steps backwards as the dogs slinked toward them as though they were stalking prey.  Nick and Lance took three more steps, only to have them countered by the dogs again.  Though Nick didn’t think running would be a good idea for some reason, Lance panicked before his friend could tell him that.

 

     “Nick, run!  Come on!  Let’s get outta here!”

 

     As Lance turned to flee the dogs gave chase.  Nick had no choice but to follow his friend.  Both boys screamed, “Help!  Help!” as they raced for a distant tree.

_______________________________

 

     Johnny’s hike was reaching the thirty minute mark.  He decided he’d crest this one last hill before returning to the Land Rover.  He wished he could say this walk had cleared his head and brought him some answers, but in truth it did nothing of the kind.  The only other time in his life he remembered being this depressed, this close to wanting to give up, was when his wife and child had been murdered.  Kim and Jessie had been gone for almost a decade now, and his memories of his time with them were best kept in the past.  He wished his memory of Vanessa Schaffer was in the past as well. He briefly wondered what the next decade was going to bring him.  If a jury believed the teenager’s words the future would garner him nothing but an eight by eight prison cell.  Everything the paramedic had worked for since coming to Los Angeles in 1968 would be taken from him in the short time it took Vanessa to weave a well-constructed lie.  If Johnny could only figure out why she wanted to lie in the first place, then maybe there’d be some way his lawyers could break through her story.  But since he couldn’t remember anything about the time he spent in the mine with her he was hard pressed to know why she wanted to cause trouble for him. 

 

     Could I have done it?  Johnny asked himself not for the first time since this nightmare began.  Could I have really done what she said? 

 

     Johnny knew Roy, and Dixie, and Kelly Brackett, and at least two dozen other people would assure him that no, he couldn’t have raped Vanessa Schaffer.  And at any other time he would have believed them.  But they didn’t know what it was like to have part of your memory missing, only to have it replaced by a story of sexual assault as told by a distraught fifteen year old girl.

 

     Johnny was well aware that Brackett had discussed all angles with his lawyers from the possibility that his head injury had caused him to act in a way that wasn’t normal for him, to the possibility that there had been some sort of fumes in the mine that had altered his personality after lengthy exposure to them. The trouble with those theories was that they would be easily disputed.  The first one Vanessa would deny.  She’d maintained all along that the assault had occurred before his head injury happened.  And the second couldn’t be verified by any blood tests.  All Johnny’s blood work had come back clean.  There was always the remote possibility something was in his system that didn’t show up in the blood work, or so Doctor Brackett had said, but Johnny knew the jury would never buy that.  Especially after listening to Vanessa’s testimony.

 

     Johnny paused a moment.  He lifted his face to the sun and heaved a sigh. Maybe worrying about going to prison was a moot point.  If he didn’t get some sleep soon, and have the desire to eat more than a couple bites at each meal, his health would begin to suffer.  Not that Johnny thought that was necessarily a bad thing. Maybe death would be better than what was waiting for him in the weeks to come.

 

     The paramedic tried to shake off his dark thoughts but didn’t have much luck.  He had just turned for the Rover when he heard what sounded like a scream.  He took two steps toward its source, but when he didn’t hear the cry again he shrugged his shoulders.

 

     Probably just kids playing.

 

     Johnny started to turn again when another series of screams sounded. 

 

     “Help!  Help!  Help!”

 

     John Gage had been a firefighter long enough to know the difference between a child screaming in fun, and one screaming in terror.  This scream was definitely a scream of terror.

 

     Forgetting all about his wish to die, Johnny took off at run to see what was going on and what assistance he could offer.  He charged up the hill, his cast tucked tight against his body. 

 

     The first thing Johnny saw was two boys charging for a tree one hundred yards to his left.  A blond boy was in the lead, his dark headed friend trailing behind by at least thirty feet.  At first Johnny couldn’t imagine what the kids were so upset about.  He wondered if they’d stepped in a yellow jacket’s nest, or seen a rattlesnake, but then he heard the barks.  A pack of dogs crested a hill.  The lead animal wasn’t more than ten feet behind the dark headed boy.

 

     Oh damn!  Wild dogs!

 

     Johnny recalled Captain Stanley briefing the A-shift about a pack of dogs that had been spotted in the canyons in recent months.  So far no one had been attacked by the dogs, though a rancher had lost a pony to them and a couple families had lost small house dogs who’d been let out to do their business only to be discovered lifeless and horribly mauled when their owners went looking for them.   Johnny knew these animals could easily kill a child.  They were already honing in on the one they’d determined was the weakest of his pack - the boy who hadn’t been able to keep up with his friend.

 

     Johnny was vaguely aware of the blond boy making it to the tree.  Fear gave the child had the skills of a monkey.  His arms caught a sturdy branch and he pulled himself up, then scrambled as high as he dared, calling for his friend.

 

     “Nick, come on!  Run!  Run!”

 

     Johnny knew Nick would never make it to the tree before the dogs would be upon him.  He ran with all the speed he’d possessed in high school, grateful that he’d left his cowboy boots at home today in favor of tennis shoes.

 

     The paramedic hollered as he ran.