This is the first part of a love story. As you might guess from my other stories, I have rather a dark view of love. But please don't judge the story only by part one. I want to thank Vickie Tern for all the editing assistance. It is a big job and I tinkered with it after she finished. There will always still be mistakes because this is free, and I am no professional.
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The Montague bar on Capsulate Street was crowded on a Saturday night. When Sergeant Kathryn Keenan and Officer James Lefave of the Tyler County Sheriff's patrol walked in, it was 12:30 a.m. Both officers were in a somber mood. They had just come from Dennis Morgan's home where his wife Desi Morgan and her lover Scott Tillman had been assaulted. Tillman, a six foot three ski pro at the local resort had been expertly kneecapped with a heavy object, a small weighted Tee Ball bat by the victim's description. Desi had been vaginally raped with the small end of the same bat. There was a lot of blood.
Kathryn, an extremely well-built woman who stood several inches over six feet, had one hand on her service Glock and the other on her nightstick. Jim Lefave, a tall beanpole of a man, was six four with a head of bright red hair reflecting his Irish heritage, despite the French origin of his last name. Jim was a local boy. Kate was a New York City girl. She was a five-year veteran of the New York City police force who had taken the job with Tyler County to get away from her ex-husband, his family, and sadly her family. She had an eight-year-old son Thomas Sullivan, Jr. Who missed his father although he had rarely seen Thomas Senior when they lived in the south before the move. Kathryn's ex was a man who worked in his family's construction business when he wasn't' chasing women. Between the two he found little time for his son.
The Montague had a bad reputation with the road patrol. The old timers could remember the place from before Denny Morgan had taken it over. It had started life as a college bar in the 1960's before the drinking age was raised to 21. After that, it became a biker bar, a raw hard drinking kind of place where fights, drugs and prostitution were all on the menu. Now it was a place where older students mixed with bikers and anyone else who enjoyed the slightly wild atmosphere, the decent food, and moderately priced beer. The hookers and drugs were gone and Denny, as Dennis was known to everyone, could cool hot tempers before things got out of hand. Kathryn walked up to one of the two barmaids and asked for Dennis Morgan. The woman who Kathryn believed was called Lottie paused, not at first realizing that Kate was asking for Denny.
"Last booth in the back," Lottie answered.
Denny was a small man, maybe five six but with a husky built. He habitually wore a blue sports jacket and a red and blue striped regimental tie with a light colored dress shirt. On his right hand was his Cornell Law School ring. Denny was by profession a lawyer, and he kept a small law office even though his principal occupation was tavern owner. He was excessively proud of having graduated from Cornell Law School. He had worked very hard to get his law degree since his widowed mother had spent all of the family's college fund on his older sister's medical degrees. Denny had worked his way through school, including summers as a bartender at the Montague.
Kathryn briskly walked up to Denny in the back booth, her wide hips swaying provocatively despite her best efforts to prevent them. Denny was almost hidden in the booth. Only his arms and hands showed until you were right in front of him. But he could see the whole bar from where he sat.
"Dennis Morgan," Kate asked.
Denny merely nodded his head.
"Please stand, you are under arrest."
Denny stood up. Kate began to hook him up, to place handcuffs on his wrists.
"Kate!" James said nervously behind her.
"What?" she said, turning her head slightly to look at her partner as she closed the cuffs on Denny's hands.
As she turned, she saw the problem. The bar that had been filled with happily inebriated people a moment ago was now stirring into a hostile crowd. As she turned more fully, she saw two very big, angry-looking bikers coming towards them from the bar. They were truly huge men, and she was debating in her mind β stick or gun and leaning toward gun βwhen Denny stepped around her in front of them. Denny raised his cuffed hands to calm the crowd.
Earlier that evening Denny had stepped between the two bikers when they were squared off and preparing to 'kick the shit' out of each other. As the men had squared off, the bartender had reached beneath the bar for the bar-bat, a small child-size Tee Ball bat filled with lead shot. In the right hands, the bar-bat was a formidable and possibly lethal weapon. But Denny had moved quicker and gotten between the two men, who towered over him.
He'd placed his hands on their chests and said rather sarcastically "Don't make me hurt you guys."
The line brought the general laughter he had intended. Denny followed up with a funny involved story about his physical prowess, making himself the butt of the punch line of the tale. By that point, the bar was buried in laughter. Denny got the two combatants to have a free drink on him, and the argument was soon replaced by the two men sharing drinks together.
Now as Denny held up his hands the bar went silent.
"Please, please," Denny said. "These officers are just making what is clearly a false arrest. As most of you know, I am an attorney. Therefore, I know that such an arrest can lead to a big payday. Now considering the pitiful price of beer in this place I can use any cash that comes my way even if I have to go to jail to get it."
The bar crowd broke into laughter and cheers of "You get 'em Denny",
And "Just like a lawyer," and, "Some people have all the luck."
Kate and Jim used the momentary conviviality to get Denny out of the barroom and into the street.
"Thanks, Denny," Jim said once they were outside.
Kathryn gave Jim a withering look and pushed Denny to the side of the Sheriff's brown and white SUV parked by the curb. She patted Denny down for weapons, noticing as she did that he had a hard muscular body concealed by his loose clothing. After the pat-down, she helped him into the back seat of the patrol vehicle. When she was seated behind the wheel with Jim riding shotgun, she read Denny his rights.
"Did you understand what I read to you, Mr. Morgan?"
"Yes, but can I ask a question."
"Of course?"
"Why am I being arrested?"