The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.
The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.
Book Blurb
Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.
Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman. Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune. She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.
Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.
Walt accepts two part-time jobs. One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.
Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective. The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.
While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.
Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?
Chapter 81
It seemed I had wholly neglected my duties to Judge Broadside. For weeks now I had only worked, at most, two days per week. Even though the Judge really liked Dana, my assistant reporter, her routine consistency of making mistakes, even delaying court proceedings at times, had him flustered. This was why he called me over the weekend to make sure I was available to record the Freddie Olinger plea hearing that was scheduled this afternoon at 1:00 p.m. I assured him I was.
I arrived early and per agreement, Dana was already there. We spent the morning reviewing her transcripts from the prior week with three-fourths of our time going through the transcript of a long and tedious discovery motion hearing. Dana had admitted that she had gotten confused five minutes after the hearing began and believed she had improperly used some of the terminology the attorney’s used from the Alabama Rules of Civil Procedure. It seemed a local bank had fired its President over the misuse of funds obtained from the majority stockholder during the construction of a new corporate office and banking facility in Guntersville. The Plaintiff President was contending his contract entitled him to a $5,000,000 severance package unless he either admitted to wrongdoing or a court of law found him liable. Since, the company had fired him and forced him to leave he had brought this lawsuit.
At 1:00 p.m. Judge Broadside, District Attorney Charles Abbott, defense attorney Micaden Tanner, criminal defendant Freddie Olinger, myself, and at least one hundred friends and families of all four of the victims’ families gathered in Courtroom 301. The Judge made sure he announced with simple but forceful clarity that he would not tolerate any outbursts in his courtroom. Up until then I had been surprisingly calm and mostly unconcerned about being present with the man who no doubt had changed my life.
As the Judge spoke to the gathering my mind flooded back to that weekend when Jennifer was killed. We were home for a two-week Christmas vacation. I was in my second-year teaching at Prince George’s Community College in Largo, Maryland, and our lives were as good as they had ever been. It had been six years since I had left Boaz. Our relationship had matured to the level of mutual respect and caring. We were friends of a sort, supported each other every step of the way, but we knew that something was missing. We never talked about it, but it was like there was always a dark cloud that followed us around. Now, sitting here waiting for Jennifer’s killer to confess, I was nearly overcome with emotion. Life and all its experiences is so relative. I was shocked how I now longed for the openness and honesty that Jennifer lived. No doubt I loved Regina as passionately as a man could love a woman, but with my recent discoveries and our recent criminal conduct, I was fully aware of how dishonesty can strike such a blow to the foundation of even the strongest relationships.
Judge Broadside finished his speech and looked down at me mouthing the words, ‘are you okay?’ I affirmed that I was. He then motioned for the parties to approach the bench. He summarized the four charges from the Information and asked if the Defendant wished to waive their formal reading. On behalf of Freddie, Micaden agreed. Judge asked Freddie how he plead to the murder of Sandra Donaldson. He said, “guilty.” And, that’s how the plea hearing went for all four murders. The friends and families gathered were surprisingly quiet. After Freddie plead guilty to Vann Elkins’ murder, the last one, Judge Broadside asked him if he had anything to say before sentences were pronounced.
Freddie said that he was sorry for all the wrongs he had committed. He then looked over at me and said, “Walt, I’m particularly sorry for my involvement in the death of Jennifer. We, I, did not intend that she die. It was meant as a joke. A sick joke I agree. Please know how sorry I am.”
Judge Broadside then said, “Mr. Olinger, based on the agreement you have made with the State of Alabama, through its Marshall County District Attorney, I now sentence you to thirty years on each count of the Information with each case running concurrent with the others. You will spend a minimum of ten years in the custody of the Alabama Prison System. It will be up to the Board of Pardons and Paroles whether you are ever released from prison after serving the minimum ten years. I’d like to say that you are a lucky man to receive such a light sentence. You should thank your lawyer. Is there any other business before the court?”
Both DA Abbott and Micaden answered in the negative. The hearing was over, and everybody started moving themselves about. I couldn’t move. All I could do is replay in my head what I had clearly heard Freddie say, “We, I, did not intend that she die.” Was he simply confused when he said ‘we’? Or, was his mind feeding up a truth the District Attorney was unaware of? Or, was Abbott aware of it and that is why he had agreed to modify the agreement to allow Freddie the possibility of being paroled someday?
Everyone had exited the courtroom except Micaden. The deputies who had stood at the courtroom’s entrance during the hearing, had allowed Micaden and Freddie several minutes to sat at counsel table and talk. The deputies had just left with Freddie to escort him back across the street to the Marshall County jail to await transport to Montgomery and the Alabama Prison System. I was now standing and gathering my things and Micaden walked over and handed me a red file.
I knew it was an official file based on its color.
“Sorry, I had mistakenly kept these photos in my briefcase.
Please don’t tell Mr. Abbott.” Micaden said with a grin.
“I won’t. I promise I’ll get them back to the Circuit Clerk for permanent case filing.”
“I know this hearing was rough on you. Are you okay?” Micaden asked.
“I’m better now. But, I did have a moment right before the hearing began that I didn’t know if I could stay. It’s weird how memories can rush in as though you are back in time seeing and feeling what you thought you had long forgotten.”
“I’m glad you’re okay. Let’s have lunch soon. Sorry, I must run. I have an emergency custody hearing in Family Court. Take care.” Micaden said rushing out of the courtroom.
I will never know why I sat back down and opened the red file Micaden had just handed me. I knew it contained crime scene photos made by police investigators. It was not until I flipped through all thirty or forty photos that I remembered Freddie had made some photos of Jennifer’s car when he had it up on the rack and he was making the brake modifications. These photos were the last ones, the ones at the back of the file. I suddenly became confused because I had not remembered that Freddie’s photos were part of the official record. I let the thought go, thinking that maybe Micaden had someway gotten Freddie’s photos mixed in with the official file.
As I flipped through the six or seven photos Freddie had made, something caught my eye. I went back to a close-up shot of a hand holding a short piece of brake line up beside the left rear wheel of Jennifer’s car. It was as though the hand wasn’t attached to a body. All the photo revealed was the hand. But, that was all I needed to convince myself that the watch on the left hand was very familiar. It was identical to the Timex with Mickey Mouse watch band that I had given Regina for her seventeenth birthday.
My head started spinning and my mind racing to put two and two together. I seemed to instantly understand why Freddie was involved with the prank that caused Jennifer’s death. It was Regina’s prank all along. She had simply talked her brother-in-law’s brother into helping her. It was a perfect set-up for Regina. She despised Jennifer, eternally blaming her for taking me away from her. It was Christmas and all the necessary players were home. I imagined a Christmas get-together at Regina’s mother’s house. The prank idea seeded in Regina’s mind. She used her powers of persuasion to convince Freddie to assist her. I remembered that Jennifer’s father, Franklin Ericson, always made sure his daughter’s car was properly maintained. The two of them had dropped her car off at Sand Mountain Tire & Muffler late on Christmas Eve, to await brake work and new tires the day after Christmas. I also remembered why we had driven her car home. The transmission in my normally reliable old truck had gone out the day before we had planned on leaving for Alabama.
It all fit like a glove. Regina was just as much responsible for Jennifer’s death as Freddie was. What seemed odd was why Freddie hadn’t disclosed Regina’s involvement. Couldn’t he have used that as a bargaining chip? Then, it dawned on me. Maybe he had. Maybe that shoe just hadn’t fallen yet. Maybe DA Abbott is still investigating her involvement.
I used my iPhone to take a picture of Freddie’s photos showing the hand and the watch. I then gathered my things and returned them to my courthouse office. I almost walked across the street to see if I could visit with Freddie, thinking he would tell me the truth, especially now that his deal was assured. Instead, I drove home. I needed this time to think about how to present this evidence to Regina. I had her red-handed. I couldn’t help but wonder why Micaden had given me the red file. After a few minutes of believing he and Freddie had conspired to tell me the truth, I recognized I was letting emotion lead me in a direction I had no solid reason for going.
The Pencil Driven Life 