Michael McGarrity - Nothing But Trouble

“Why do you ask?”

Johnny smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got this DWI thing nipping at my heels and I could sure use a character witness.”

Many ordinary citizens weren’t shy about asking for special treatment from cops when they got in trouble with the law. But in this case Kerney wondered if Johnny had added money to the consulting contract as a way to buy a favor. Although it smacked of attempted bribery, it fell legally short of the mark.

“That’s not possible,” he said flatly.

Johnny’s lips tightened in annoyance. He hid it by dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “I just thought I’d ask.”

“Let your lawyer handle it,” Kerney said.

Johnny gave Kerney an easy, casual grin that didn’t quite mask his irritation. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But I can’t afford to be hobbled by legal stuff right now. There’s too much I’ve got to do. We’re less than three months away from filming. I need to be able to move fast, stay mobile.”

“If it’s your first DWI conviction, you’ll have your license back in ninety days.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. This is no time for me to be without wheels.”

The waitress came with the check. At the cashier’s station Kerney paid the bill and left a tip. “I can’t help you, Johnny,” he said. “I’ll be in touch about the contract.”

“Make it soon.”

Kerney left Johnny on the sidewalk looking completely disgruntled. But it didn’t bother him one bit. Doted on and spoiled by his parents, Johnny had never been forced to take responsibility for his actions. A shot of reality might help him grow up.

Pissed off, Johnny watched Kerney’s unmarked police cruiser turn the corner. All he’d asked Kerney to do was vouch for him with the judge. What was the big deal with that? He’d put money in the guy’s pocket and gotten nothing in return.

Staying angry at Kerney wouldn’t help him solve the immediate problem of losing his driver’s license. The sports-channel rodeo deal had been finalized, but it would be weeks before he’d see any cash. There were cross-country business trips and client meetings that couldn’t be put off, and he didn’t have the scratch to hire a car and driver. Johnny decided his only option was to get the local lawyer he’d retained to request a continuance so he could stay behind the wheel. He walked across the street to the Plaza, sat on a park bench, flipped open his cell phone, dialed the lawyer’s number, and told him what had to be done.

“We’ve already had one continuance,” the lawyer said after hearing Johnny out.

“Get me another one.”

“Do you have any chronic medical conditions?” the lawyer asked after a pause.

“Head traumas from getting kicked and stepped on by horses when I rodeoed,” Johnny said.

“Any physical proof of it?” the lawyer asked.

“I’ve got a dent in my skull and medical records at home.”

“Go to the emergency room right now,” the lawyer said. “Tell them you feel dizzy, disoriented, and have blurred vision. I’ll call the court and reschedule your appearance.”

“Can you have it put off until November?”

“Easily. I’ll waive your right to the six-month rule. Sign a release at the ER so I can get a copy of your treatment record and forward it to the judge.”

Johnny laughed. “It’s that simple?”

“For now,” the lawyer said, “but you’ll still have to face your day in court.”

“Whatever.” Johnny disconnected, got directions to the hospital from a Hispanic cop on the Plaza, and drove to the hospital. He checked his watch. If Brenda was back at the hotel room when the docs were finished with him, maybe there would be time for a quickie before his meeting with the director of the film office.

He was about to rid himself of Brenda. Next week, while she was at work, he’d move out of her apartment into a sublet he’d rented. But until then he’d put her to good use.

In the ER Johnny faked a set of symptoms and gave the admitting clerk a history of his old rodeo injuries. After a thirty-minute wait he was screened by a nurse who took his vitals. Then a doctor examined his skull and took an X ray of the dent in the back of his head. After reviewing the X ray he shined a light in Johnny’s eyes and had him read the letters on a vision chart.

Johnny deliberately messed it up.

“I don’t see anything abnormal on the X ray,” the doctor said. “But your symptoms are worrisome. Have you been under stress recently?”

“I’ve got a lot on my plate, Doc.”

“I think we need more tests.”

“Can I get it done in Denver?” Johnny asked. “I go home tomorrow.”

“Will you make an appointment to see your physician right away?”

“I’ll call his office as soon as I get back to the hotel.”

“Are you driving?”

“My girlfriend is with me,” Johnny replied. “She can drive.”

“Okay. Make sure you see your physician.”

After paying the bill by credit card and signing a release to let his Santa Fe lawyer get a copy of his ER chart, Johnny went back to his hotel room to find Brenda trying on a new pair of red running shoes.

“I found this great designer-shoe store near the Plaza,” she said, bouncing up and down, pointing her toes so she could admire the new footwear, “and they had these in my size. How did it go in court?”

“I got another continuance.”

“Your lawyer called.”

“The guy here in Santa Fe?”

Brenda shook her head and pirouetted in front of the full mirror on the closet door, studying her shoes as she twirled. “Nope, Jim Blass in Denver. Call him back right away. He said it was important.”

Johnny flipped open the cell phone, speed-dialed the number, and got put through to Blass immediately.

“I couldn’t reach you on your cell,” Blass said. “The call kept getting dropped.”

“What’s up?” Johnny asked.

“Your wife has filed a claim against the proceeds from your sports-channel contract. That means the money will be tied up until the divorce settlement is finalized, unless we can work something out.”

“That bitch,” Johnny said. “Did you talk to her attorney?”

“Yeah, I did. Seems you borrowed money from her right before you got married.”

“Borrowed, hell. We used that money for our honeymoon trip to Europe. I paid her back.”

“That’s not what she says,” Blass said.

“Fuck her,” Johnny said. “What can you do?”

“Tell me the facts, Johnny. Did you pay her back the loan?”

Johnny’s squeezed the cell phone in frustration. Sometimes he hated telling the truth. “No.”

“How much?”

“Twenty-five thousand and change.”

“I’ll offer repayment to her from your contract proceeds,” Blass said. “But don’t expect a rapid response. Madeline is determined to make you suffer as long as she can.”

“Push it along,” Johnny said. “I need that money.” He hit the disconnect icon and threw the phone on the bed.

“Bad news, baby?” Brenda asked as she cuddled up to him.

Johnny filled her in with a sanitized version of Madeline’s latest legal maneuver.

She sighed sympathetically, shook her head, and threw her arms around his neck. “I’d never do something like that to you,” she said breathlessly. “Never, ever.”

“I know you wouldn’t, sweetie pie. But I was going to use some of that money to find us a bigger apartment. We need to get settled into our own place and see where our relationship is headed.”

Brenda smiled gleefully at the idea, wiggled her rump, and slid her hand down the front of Johnny’s trousers. “Could we get a condo downtown?”

“I don’t see why not,” Johnny said.