The Heart of Lincoln County 13/?
Title: The Heart of Lincoln County
Author: darkfaery1
Chapter: 13/?
Series: TDS/TCR/The O'Reilly Factor
Genre: Western AU
Beta/cheerleader: insanekht
Chapter pairings: Jon/"Stephen," John/Amy
Chapter rating: R
Content: slash sex, Old West violence, language, angst, prejudice, mild het content.
Word count: 3525
Chapter summary: Stephen's case is heard; Bill O'Reilly loses control.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not intended to portray the life or defame the character of any actual person. Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual person is purely coincidental. No money is being made from this work of fiction. It is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material. Any mention of any copyrighted material is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976.
Crossposted to tds_rps
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10,
Chapter 11, Chapter 12
The week before their respective trials, Denis Leary spent most of his time working on Tad's case; he interviewed just about everyone in town, wrote briefs, even practiced his opening statement while sitting in the outhouse. Intellectually, Stephen knew that Tad's life was more important than his store, but…
"When are we going to prepare my case?"
Everyone at Jon's dinner table stopped and stared at Stephen. Amy was saying something about an outdoor wedding and asking what color dress she should wear, when Stephen piped in with his non sequitur.
"Stephen," Jon said with a disapproving look, "Amy was talking."
Stephen turned to her and apologized. "I'm sorry, Amy. I think an outdoor wedding would be delightful and you should wear blue; it's very flattering on you and white would be completely inappropriate. By the way, John, you haven't asked me to be your best man yet."
The Englishman took an inordinate interest in his kosher roast chicken breast. "Actually, I've already asked Tad."
"I see," replied Stephen, somewhat offended. "Let's hope Denis gets him acquitted. It would be a pity to ruin your wedding."
"Stephen!" everyone cried in unison.
Stephen hadn't meant it as callously as it sounded, but he was a desperate man. Every penny of his family's money was sunk into that store and no one seemed to care. So he did what any man would do in this hopeless situation: he started to cry.
Loudly.
Jon sighed, rose from the table, and put a comforting arm around Stephen's shoulders.
"Sor-ry…" he sobbed. "Can't help…my mother…Oh, God!" Jon managed to push Stephen's plate out of the way before he plopped his forehead into his mashed potatoes.
"All right, Stephen," Denis said as gently as he could. "Stop crying and tell me about your case."
Stephen lifted his head, sniffed, and dried his eyes. "Only if you really want to know."
Jon rolled his eyes, took his seat, and finished his lukewarm dinner.
"I really, really want to know," Denis said with an edge to his voice.
Stephen explained that O'Reilly had a promissory note from the former owner of his land for five hundred dollars. Since the land his store was now sitting on was the only thing left of the estate, O'Reilly was trying to claim it in payment for Evander Wallace's debt.
"But there are laws in every state and territory in America that prevent him from coming forward so long after the man's death," Denis told them. "O'Reilly had ninety days to collect anything owed from the estate; after that he's out of luck."
"O'Reilly's lawyer, Jason Jones, said there was no notice posted in the local paper at the time of Wallace's death," Jon said. "He was a widower with no children or living relatives that I knew of. It's possible nobody bothered with a notice."
"Jon, how well did you know this Wallace? Was he the type to borrow so much money?"
Jon shrugged. "His house was a wreck, but paid for. His county taxes couldn't have been that much. I saw him a lot in his last year or so and he always paid me in cash. He died of heart failure, but had a half-dozen other ailments I treated him for. I don't think he would have gone into that much debt to O'Reilly, but he never discussed his business with me. How do we prove a negative?"
"Has anyone seen this promissory note?" Denis asked.
"The sheriff has it," Stephen said gleefully, basking in the overdue attention to his case. To Stephen's chagrin, Amy took a huge piece of chocolate cake from what was supposed to be their dessert to bring to the jail for Tad. He decided to let it pass as a way to make up for the insensitive comment he'd made earlier about Tad's uncertain fate.
Amy and John visited with Tad, while the others spoke to Steve about the note. Stephen gave Tad a few vaguely encouraging words before he raced over to the safe that Steve had just opened. The promissory note was carelessly thrown on top of a stack of papers and a strongbox. A Colt revolver was being used as a paperweight.
Steve handed the paper to Denis. The note had been wadded up and re-flattened, but the writing was neat--almost too neat--except for Wallace's signature: an uneven, but readable, scrawl at the bottom of the note.
Jon suddenly grabbed Stephen's arm, startling him. His lover looked up at him with bright eyes and a happy smile. "This is a forgery and I think I can prove it."
***
Bill grinned triumphantly when he saw the stage ride up outside Wilmore's place. Judge Gibson was an old friend of his and would very likely rule in his favor against Colbert. He heard that Tad's lawyer had demanded a jury trial, but Gibson would no doubt show Leary his place. Bill smiled. Tad was as good as hanged. True, the little cocksucker could still implicate him, but Gibson wouldn't allow it if Bill could show him a good enough time before the trial.
He left the House and cantered up to the stage, opening the door. Bill's face fell when he saw only one man in the cab. "Where's Judge Gibson?"
"He's ill." A tall man with spectacles and silvered hair stepped out onto the dirt street. The driver handed the man a well-worn carpetbag. "I'm Judge Olbermann. I'll be presiding over the district court this session. Are you Mr. Wilmore?" he asked, handing Bill his bag.
"Hell no!" O'Reilly said with a scowl. "I mean, Larry's inside. I'm William O'Reilly, proprietor of the O'Reilly Store and Gentlemen's Club."
"O'Reilly?" Olbermann reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of paper. "Aren’t you the plaintiff in a case I'm supposed to hear?"
"The very same," he smiled. "As soon as you get settled, please join me for a drink in my establishment. Perhaps I can interest you in a game of cards, or introduce you to some… pleasant company?"
Olbermann glared at Bill, stony-faced. "I'm going to assume that your offer is out of a strange sense of frontier hospitality rather than an attempt to gain my favor, because that would be tantamount to bribery. In either case, I must refuse. In fact, I shouldn't be speaking to you at all. Good day, Mr. O'Reilly." The judge tipped his hat with cold civility and marched into the boardinghouse.
***
The Lincoln courthouse was a small, stuffy building with one large room lined with chairs and a small anteroom that served as the judge's chambers. The judge's bench was little more than a raised desk. The courtroom was filled with farmers, ranchers, and townsmen who also had cases on the docket that day.
Annie Coulter was sitting directly behind Bill in a black silk gown and feathered hat that blocked the view of the other people behind her. Jon and Amy sat behind Stephen. The townswomen and farmers' wives, both Anglo and Mexican, who had faithfully patronized the Colbert Store, also sat behind Stephen and attempted to bore holes into the back of Bill O'Reilly's head with their eyes. Jason Jones flanked O'Reilly; Denis sat next to Stephen.
Deputy Carell, acting as bailiff, swore in Stephen and Bill, then ordered the rest of the court to rise. "Court is in session. Judge Olbermann presiding."
Olbermann settled behind the modest bench with his papers and gavel, then motioned for the court to sit. "In the case of O'Reilly v. Colbert, if it's agreeable to both parties, I'd like to hear this case without counsel in the interest of time. I have several cases to hear today and I know Mr. Leary has a murder case that is due to begin in the morning."
"I have no objection, your honor," Denis said with a sly glance at opposing counsel. "Mr. Colbert is more than capable of presenting his defense."
Stephen felt less confident than Leary's words implied, but he nodded in agreement.
Jones opened his mouth, but Bill cut him off. "Well, if he can do it, I can."
The judge inclined his head. "Present your case, Mr. O'Reilly."
"Well, I got this note saying Evander Wallace owes me five hundred dollars," Bill said, handing the promissory note to Steve, who, in turn, handed it to the judge. "There ain't nothing left of his estate except the land Colbert built his store on, so I'm claiming it as mine."
"Tell him about the notice," Jason whispered.
"Oh yeah, when Wallace died there wasn't a notice in the paper saying I had ninety days to collect the debt; that means I can collect it anytime I want." Bill gave Stephen a smug smile.
Olbermann raised an eyebrow. "But you knew Wallace had died. His house is less than two hundred yards from your store. Why didn't you settle your claim with the county when he first passed away?"
Bill looked to Jason for help, but the lawyer just grinned nervously. "Uh, 'cause I forgot I lent it to him until recently."
"You forgot you lent a man five hundred dollars until recently?"
Bill sucked in his gut and tried to make himself taller. "I'm a very busy man in this county. I always have more than a few irons in the fire. A modest sum like that could slip any important man's mind."
"What did Mr. Wallace say he needed the money for?" the judge asked.
"What did Evander need the money for?" Bill repeated.
"Yes, Mr. O'Reilly."
Bill put his finger to his chin, then shrugged. "You know, I don't rightly remember."
Olbermann betrayed a trace of exasperation in his voice, "Sit down, Mr. O'Reilly." Then he turned to Stephen. "Mr. Colbert, do you have anything to add in your defense?"
Stephen's heart was pounding hard in his chest, but he stood and addressed the court, while managing to keep voice steady and his hands from shaking. "Firstly, I had no knowledge of any liens or debts against Mr. Wallace's estate when I bought his land at auction from the county. Secondly, I find it strange that Mr. O'Reilly only recalled this debt after my store became more successful than his own. Lastly, an esteemed resident of this town, Dr. Jonathan Stewart, has evidence that will prove that Mr. O'Reilly is lying."
"How dare you!" Bill tried to rise, but Jason pulled him back down.
Judge Olbermann pounded his gavel on the desk. "Deputy, swear in Doctor Stewart."
Jon approached Steve with a solemn expression. Stephen couldn't help but think how adorable Jon looked when he was trying to be especially serious. "Raise your right hand and place your left hand on the Bible," Steve directed.
Bill bolted out of his seat; Jason just shook his head. "I object!"
Olbermann scowled. "To what?"
"Stewart's a Jew, he don't believe in the Bible!" Bill said, pointing an accusing finger at Jon. "Don't you know how those people are? He'll swear alright, but then he'll lie through his teeth to help his friend. He won't even take that stupid little hat off, what kind of respect is that?"
"It's called a kippah, you schmendrick!" Stephen yelled defensively.
"What did you just call me?" Bill, balling his hands into fists.
Olbermann banged his gavel again and sighed, then reached under his spectacles to rub his eyes. "Mr. Colbert, such outbursts do not help your case. Mr. O'Reilly, sit down before I order Deputy Carell to make you sit down."
Bill puffed out his chest a few times before taking his seat. Denis whispered something in Stephen's bad ear that might have been, "Do that again and I'll break your arm." Given Leary's Irish ancestry, Stephen thought it best to assume the worst.
"Deputy, proceed with the swearing in of this witness."
"But--!"
Olbermann held up his hand to silence O'Reilly until Jon took the stand. "Mr. O'Reilly, not only do Jews believe in the Old Testament, they wrote it. Now, if I hear one more inane word out of you, you'll be listening to testimony from the jail." The judge turned his attention to Jon. "What do you know about this case, Doctor?"
"Evander Wallace was my patient for over a year prior to his death," Jon said.
"Did he speak of this loan to you?"
"No, in fact, he never discussed his business with me, beyond the bills for my services, which he always paid in cash. He did speak a great deal about his family. He had heart failure, so between his labored breathing and the swelling of his legs, he very rarely left the house. I think that was seen by many in the town as a sign of unfriendliness, but he always struck me as a kind man, when he wasn't in pain, of course." Jon pulled a letter out of his inner breast pocket and handed it to the judge. Olbermann glanced at it, then motioned for Jon to continue.
"He had a sister in Wichita, but she had died at least ten years before I ever met Evander," Jon told him. "They had been very close and he spoke of her often, but as he came closer to death, he would forget that she had died and talked about traveling to Kansas to visit her. He even had me write a letter to his sister, telling her about his plans. That's the letter you have in your hands. He died about a week later. I couldn't mail the letter, obviously, but I didn't have the heart to throw it away."
Olbermann read the letter through and studied the signature: a rather large and bold 'X'. "Is this Mr. Wallace's mark?"
Jon nodded. "Not many people knew it, but Evander was illiterate. He couldn't even sign his own name."
The eyes of the entire courtroom fell on Bill O'Reilly's ashen face. He recovered with a derisive snort. "Told you he'd get up and lie. That's all those people know--"
"BE QUIET!" Judge Olbermann bellowed. "I think I've heard all I need to hear," he said, rising. Steve motioned for the courtroom to follow suit. "Court is in recess. Deputy Carrel, make certain Mr. O'Reilly behaves himself in the meantime."
Olbermann disappeared into his chambers as the rest of the courtroom began to chatter excitedly amongst themselves. Dozens of Stephen's customers came up to congratulate him, though he wasn't ready to claim victory yet. Annie Coulter exchanged heated words with her lover and stormed out of the courtroom. Jason tried to calm Bill, while Steve loomed over the two men, ready to instruct O'Reilly on proper courtroom demeanor if he stepped out of line.
The recess lasted only fifteen minutes, but seemed far longer. Olbermann took the bench and had Steve call the court to order. "Mr. O'Reilly?"
Bill rose and spoke with exaggerated politeness, "Yes, sir?"
"If I were to find in your favor," the judge said, causing Bill to smile broadly, "how would it be fair for me to take away Mr. Colbert's land, and, ostensibly, his store, and award it to you?"
"Because it's my land," Bill replied.
"It was never your land," Olbermann said sternly. "Mr. Wallace, if I'm to believe your claim, borrowed five hundred dollars from you. At best, I'd order Mr. Colbert to repay Mr. Wallace's debt in kind."
O'Reilly didn't bother hiding his disappointment. "Well, then, I'll take the five hundred dollars."
"Which I would award to you," Olbermann told him, "if I believed a word that you have said today, which I do not."
"You calling me a liar?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." The judge picked up the promissory note and waved it dramatically. "I believe you forged this note. I also believe that this was a transparent scheme to ruin Mr. Colbert's business. This claim was brought three weeks ago. According to the sheriff, the Colbert Store was bolted shut that same day. You, Mr. O'Reilly, have defrauded Mr. Colbert out of three weeks of his livelihood and you have attempted to defraud this court. In order to make Mr. Colbert whole, I order you to pay him one thousand dollars in punitive damages."
Judge Olbermann banged his gavel once more and motioned for Steve to see O'Reilly out of the courtroom. Bill struggled and swore, he even tried to spit in Stephen's face, but the deputy had a firm grip on him and showed him to the door.
Amy hugged Stephen, then said, "I think I'll go on over to the boardinghouse for a while and tell John and Larry what happened. Should only take an hour or two," she added with a wink.
"Make it two," Jon said, risking a quick, amorous glance at his lover.
Stephen leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Make it three and I'll pay for your wedding."
Amy gave them four.
***
After that cocksucking deputy threw him into the street, Bill tried to ignore the laughter of the townspeople who used to fear him and brushed himself off. He marched to the House and poured himself a whiskey, then another, and another, and another.
How in the hell did this happen? He used to be king in this county. Everybody was scared shitless of him, even Lewis Black. Everything changed when that fuck Colbert came to town; him, that deputy, and that Englishman. One thing was sure, Colbert wouldn't see a fucking dime of that grand as long as Bill was still breathing.
He needed another Paul Dinello; a son-of-a-bitch gunfighter that would do anything Bill paid him to do. He'd start looking, but in the meantime, he could have a little fun with Oliver. He hadn't been at the courthouse, so Bill assumed he was still working for Wilmore. A white man working for a colored was just not right.
Bill finished his bottle of whiskey, then stumbled over to the restaurant. Not only was Oliver there, serving customers, but his whore was there as well, sitting at a small table, watching her beau work himself to death for her.
Oliver looked up and saw Bill enter. The Englishman reluctantly showed him to a table. "Would you like to see a menu?"
"I didn't come here to eat."
"Well, then I'll have to ask you to leave," John said stiffly. "These tables are for paying customers."
"Actually, I came here to see you, John."
"I have nothing to say to you, sir." John turned to walk away.
Bill leaned back in his chair. "How's Amy settling in? Three men and only one whore between you; must get awful lonely some nights. But she's worth waitin' for, ain't she? I always thought so."
John spun on him. "You shut your bloody mouth!"
"And if I don't?"
"I'll do it for you," John said in a menacing tone.
"Careful, John, Tad Dinello ain't here to fight your battles for you." Bill placed his Peacemakers on the table, pushing one of the guns towards John.
Amy rushed up behind John and took his hand. "Go on home, Bill! Leave us alone!"
"Just having a little chat with your betrothed," Bill told Amy. "Seems he's too much of a coward to defend your honor--what's left of it, anyway."
"I told you to shut your mouth!" John yelled.
"He's just trying to bait you into a fight," Amy pleaded.
"Pick up the gun, John. Show me what kind of man you are."
"No, sir, I will not," John said with his big English nose up in the air. "That you are a superior shot does not mean that you are a better man than I am. In fact, you are nothing but a petty bully and a cancer upon this town."
It was happening again.
Bill looked around him and saw the patrons nodding their heads and congratulating John on his fine speech. That English pipsqueak and his little whore were making a fool of him. The whiskey roaring in his veins caused his fury to bubble to the surface. He would reclaim this town, make them all fear him again as they once did.
Bill staggered to his feet and slid one of his guns across the floor, hitting the back of Oliver's shoe. "Pick it up, you bastard!"
The Englishman turned as O'Reilly raised his weapon. John reached for the revolver when a shot rang out. Larry ran out of the kitchen just as Bill O'Reilly crumpled to the ground, a pool of blood forming under his head. Larry checked on John and Amy, who were shaken, but unharmed. A few of the more delicate patrons left the restaurant immediately, but most of the diners went back to their meals.
"I ain't letting Bill O'Reilly spoil my dinner, dead or alive," Rob Riggle announced, eliciting laughter from the other patrons.
Lewis Black holstered his gun and took a seat. "Steak and eggs, Larry. Sorry about the mess."
Larry draped a checkered tablecloth over O'Reilly's body. "These things happen. Too bad it couldn't have happened sooner. Supper's on the house."
To be continued…
Author: darkfaery1
Chapter: 13/?
Series: TDS/TCR/The O'Reilly Factor
Genre: Western AU
Beta/cheerleader: insanekht
Chapter pairings: Jon/"Stephen," John/Amy
Chapter rating: R
Content: slash sex, Old West violence, language, angst, prejudice, mild het content.
Word count: 3525
Chapter summary: Stephen's case is heard; Bill O'Reilly loses control.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not intended to portray the life or defame the character of any actual person. Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual person is purely coincidental. No money is being made from this work of fiction. It is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material. Any mention of any copyrighted material is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976.
Crossposted to tds_rps
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10,
Chapter 11, Chapter 12
The week before their respective trials, Denis Leary spent most of his time working on Tad's case; he interviewed just about everyone in town, wrote briefs, even practiced his opening statement while sitting in the outhouse. Intellectually, Stephen knew that Tad's life was more important than his store, but…
"When are we going to prepare my case?"
Everyone at Jon's dinner table stopped and stared at Stephen. Amy was saying something about an outdoor wedding and asking what color dress she should wear, when Stephen piped in with his non sequitur.
"Stephen," Jon said with a disapproving look, "Amy was talking."
Stephen turned to her and apologized. "I'm sorry, Amy. I think an outdoor wedding would be delightful and you should wear blue; it's very flattering on you and white would be completely inappropriate. By the way, John, you haven't asked me to be your best man yet."
The Englishman took an inordinate interest in his kosher roast chicken breast. "Actually, I've already asked Tad."
"I see," replied Stephen, somewhat offended. "Let's hope Denis gets him acquitted. It would be a pity to ruin your wedding."
"Stephen!" everyone cried in unison.
Stephen hadn't meant it as callously as it sounded, but he was a desperate man. Every penny of his family's money was sunk into that store and no one seemed to care. So he did what any man would do in this hopeless situation: he started to cry.
Loudly.
Jon sighed, rose from the table, and put a comforting arm around Stephen's shoulders.
"Sor-ry…" he sobbed. "Can't help…my mother…Oh, God!" Jon managed to push Stephen's plate out of the way before he plopped his forehead into his mashed potatoes.
"All right, Stephen," Denis said as gently as he could. "Stop crying and tell me about your case."
Stephen lifted his head, sniffed, and dried his eyes. "Only if you really want to know."
Jon rolled his eyes, took his seat, and finished his lukewarm dinner.
"I really, really want to know," Denis said with an edge to his voice.
Stephen explained that O'Reilly had a promissory note from the former owner of his land for five hundred dollars. Since the land his store was now sitting on was the only thing left of the estate, O'Reilly was trying to claim it in payment for Evander Wallace's debt.
"But there are laws in every state and territory in America that prevent him from coming forward so long after the man's death," Denis told them. "O'Reilly had ninety days to collect anything owed from the estate; after that he's out of luck."
"O'Reilly's lawyer, Jason Jones, said there was no notice posted in the local paper at the time of Wallace's death," Jon said. "He was a widower with no children or living relatives that I knew of. It's possible nobody bothered with a notice."
"Jon, how well did you know this Wallace? Was he the type to borrow so much money?"
Jon shrugged. "His house was a wreck, but paid for. His county taxes couldn't have been that much. I saw him a lot in his last year or so and he always paid me in cash. He died of heart failure, but had a half-dozen other ailments I treated him for. I don't think he would have gone into that much debt to O'Reilly, but he never discussed his business with me. How do we prove a negative?"
"Has anyone seen this promissory note?" Denis asked.
"The sheriff has it," Stephen said gleefully, basking in the overdue attention to his case. To Stephen's chagrin, Amy took a huge piece of chocolate cake from what was supposed to be their dessert to bring to the jail for Tad. He decided to let it pass as a way to make up for the insensitive comment he'd made earlier about Tad's uncertain fate.
Amy and John visited with Tad, while the others spoke to Steve about the note. Stephen gave Tad a few vaguely encouraging words before he raced over to the safe that Steve had just opened. The promissory note was carelessly thrown on top of a stack of papers and a strongbox. A Colt revolver was being used as a paperweight.
Steve handed the paper to Denis. The note had been wadded up and re-flattened, but the writing was neat--almost too neat--except for Wallace's signature: an uneven, but readable, scrawl at the bottom of the note.
Jon suddenly grabbed Stephen's arm, startling him. His lover looked up at him with bright eyes and a happy smile. "This is a forgery and I think I can prove it."
***
Bill grinned triumphantly when he saw the stage ride up outside Wilmore's place. Judge Gibson was an old friend of his and would very likely rule in his favor against Colbert. He heard that Tad's lawyer had demanded a jury trial, but Gibson would no doubt show Leary his place. Bill smiled. Tad was as good as hanged. True, the little cocksucker could still implicate him, but Gibson wouldn't allow it if Bill could show him a good enough time before the trial.
He left the House and cantered up to the stage, opening the door. Bill's face fell when he saw only one man in the cab. "Where's Judge Gibson?"
"He's ill." A tall man with spectacles and silvered hair stepped out onto the dirt street. The driver handed the man a well-worn carpetbag. "I'm Judge Olbermann. I'll be presiding over the district court this session. Are you Mr. Wilmore?" he asked, handing Bill his bag.
"Hell no!" O'Reilly said with a scowl. "I mean, Larry's inside. I'm William O'Reilly, proprietor of the O'Reilly Store and Gentlemen's Club."
"O'Reilly?" Olbermann reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of paper. "Aren’t you the plaintiff in a case I'm supposed to hear?"
"The very same," he smiled. "As soon as you get settled, please join me for a drink in my establishment. Perhaps I can interest you in a game of cards, or introduce you to some… pleasant company?"
Olbermann glared at Bill, stony-faced. "I'm going to assume that your offer is out of a strange sense of frontier hospitality rather than an attempt to gain my favor, because that would be tantamount to bribery. In either case, I must refuse. In fact, I shouldn't be speaking to you at all. Good day, Mr. O'Reilly." The judge tipped his hat with cold civility and marched into the boardinghouse.
***
The Lincoln courthouse was a small, stuffy building with one large room lined with chairs and a small anteroom that served as the judge's chambers. The judge's bench was little more than a raised desk. The courtroom was filled with farmers, ranchers, and townsmen who also had cases on the docket that day.
Annie Coulter was sitting directly behind Bill in a black silk gown and feathered hat that blocked the view of the other people behind her. Jon and Amy sat behind Stephen. The townswomen and farmers' wives, both Anglo and Mexican, who had faithfully patronized the Colbert Store, also sat behind Stephen and attempted to bore holes into the back of Bill O'Reilly's head with their eyes. Jason Jones flanked O'Reilly; Denis sat next to Stephen.
Deputy Carell, acting as bailiff, swore in Stephen and Bill, then ordered the rest of the court to rise. "Court is in session. Judge Olbermann presiding."
Olbermann settled behind the modest bench with his papers and gavel, then motioned for the court to sit. "In the case of O'Reilly v. Colbert, if it's agreeable to both parties, I'd like to hear this case without counsel in the interest of time. I have several cases to hear today and I know Mr. Leary has a murder case that is due to begin in the morning."
"I have no objection, your honor," Denis said with a sly glance at opposing counsel. "Mr. Colbert is more than capable of presenting his defense."
Stephen felt less confident than Leary's words implied, but he nodded in agreement.
Jones opened his mouth, but Bill cut him off. "Well, if he can do it, I can."
The judge inclined his head. "Present your case, Mr. O'Reilly."
"Well, I got this note saying Evander Wallace owes me five hundred dollars," Bill said, handing the promissory note to Steve, who, in turn, handed it to the judge. "There ain't nothing left of his estate except the land Colbert built his store on, so I'm claiming it as mine."
"Tell him about the notice," Jason whispered.
"Oh yeah, when Wallace died there wasn't a notice in the paper saying I had ninety days to collect the debt; that means I can collect it anytime I want." Bill gave Stephen a smug smile.
Olbermann raised an eyebrow. "But you knew Wallace had died. His house is less than two hundred yards from your store. Why didn't you settle your claim with the county when he first passed away?"
Bill looked to Jason for help, but the lawyer just grinned nervously. "Uh, 'cause I forgot I lent it to him until recently."
"You forgot you lent a man five hundred dollars until recently?"
Bill sucked in his gut and tried to make himself taller. "I'm a very busy man in this county. I always have more than a few irons in the fire. A modest sum like that could slip any important man's mind."
"What did Mr. Wallace say he needed the money for?" the judge asked.
"What did Evander need the money for?" Bill repeated.
"Yes, Mr. O'Reilly."
Bill put his finger to his chin, then shrugged. "You know, I don't rightly remember."
Olbermann betrayed a trace of exasperation in his voice, "Sit down, Mr. O'Reilly." Then he turned to Stephen. "Mr. Colbert, do you have anything to add in your defense?"
Stephen's heart was pounding hard in his chest, but he stood and addressed the court, while managing to keep voice steady and his hands from shaking. "Firstly, I had no knowledge of any liens or debts against Mr. Wallace's estate when I bought his land at auction from the county. Secondly, I find it strange that Mr. O'Reilly only recalled this debt after my store became more successful than his own. Lastly, an esteemed resident of this town, Dr. Jonathan Stewart, has evidence that will prove that Mr. O'Reilly is lying."
"How dare you!" Bill tried to rise, but Jason pulled him back down.
Judge Olbermann pounded his gavel on the desk. "Deputy, swear in Doctor Stewart."
Jon approached Steve with a solemn expression. Stephen couldn't help but think how adorable Jon looked when he was trying to be especially serious. "Raise your right hand and place your left hand on the Bible," Steve directed.
Bill bolted out of his seat; Jason just shook his head. "I object!"
Olbermann scowled. "To what?"
"Stewart's a Jew, he don't believe in the Bible!" Bill said, pointing an accusing finger at Jon. "Don't you know how those people are? He'll swear alright, but then he'll lie through his teeth to help his friend. He won't even take that stupid little hat off, what kind of respect is that?"
"It's called a kippah, you schmendrick!" Stephen yelled defensively.
"What did you just call me?" Bill, balling his hands into fists.
Olbermann banged his gavel again and sighed, then reached under his spectacles to rub his eyes. "Mr. Colbert, such outbursts do not help your case. Mr. O'Reilly, sit down before I order Deputy Carell to make you sit down."
Bill puffed out his chest a few times before taking his seat. Denis whispered something in Stephen's bad ear that might have been, "Do that again and I'll break your arm." Given Leary's Irish ancestry, Stephen thought it best to assume the worst.
"Deputy, proceed with the swearing in of this witness."
"But--!"
Olbermann held up his hand to silence O'Reilly until Jon took the stand. "Mr. O'Reilly, not only do Jews believe in the Old Testament, they wrote it. Now, if I hear one more inane word out of you, you'll be listening to testimony from the jail." The judge turned his attention to Jon. "What do you know about this case, Doctor?"
"Evander Wallace was my patient for over a year prior to his death," Jon said.
"Did he speak of this loan to you?"
"No, in fact, he never discussed his business with me, beyond the bills for my services, which he always paid in cash. He did speak a great deal about his family. He had heart failure, so between his labored breathing and the swelling of his legs, he very rarely left the house. I think that was seen by many in the town as a sign of unfriendliness, but he always struck me as a kind man, when he wasn't in pain, of course." Jon pulled a letter out of his inner breast pocket and handed it to the judge. Olbermann glanced at it, then motioned for Jon to continue.
"He had a sister in Wichita, but she had died at least ten years before I ever met Evander," Jon told him. "They had been very close and he spoke of her often, but as he came closer to death, he would forget that she had died and talked about traveling to Kansas to visit her. He even had me write a letter to his sister, telling her about his plans. That's the letter you have in your hands. He died about a week later. I couldn't mail the letter, obviously, but I didn't have the heart to throw it away."
Olbermann read the letter through and studied the signature: a rather large and bold 'X'. "Is this Mr. Wallace's mark?"
Jon nodded. "Not many people knew it, but Evander was illiterate. He couldn't even sign his own name."
The eyes of the entire courtroom fell on Bill O'Reilly's ashen face. He recovered with a derisive snort. "Told you he'd get up and lie. That's all those people know--"
"BE QUIET!" Judge Olbermann bellowed. "I think I've heard all I need to hear," he said, rising. Steve motioned for the courtroom to follow suit. "Court is in recess. Deputy Carrel, make certain Mr. O'Reilly behaves himself in the meantime."
Olbermann disappeared into his chambers as the rest of the courtroom began to chatter excitedly amongst themselves. Dozens of Stephen's customers came up to congratulate him, though he wasn't ready to claim victory yet. Annie Coulter exchanged heated words with her lover and stormed out of the courtroom. Jason tried to calm Bill, while Steve loomed over the two men, ready to instruct O'Reilly on proper courtroom demeanor if he stepped out of line.
The recess lasted only fifteen minutes, but seemed far longer. Olbermann took the bench and had Steve call the court to order. "Mr. O'Reilly?"
Bill rose and spoke with exaggerated politeness, "Yes, sir?"
"If I were to find in your favor," the judge said, causing Bill to smile broadly, "how would it be fair for me to take away Mr. Colbert's land, and, ostensibly, his store, and award it to you?"
"Because it's my land," Bill replied.
"It was never your land," Olbermann said sternly. "Mr. Wallace, if I'm to believe your claim, borrowed five hundred dollars from you. At best, I'd order Mr. Colbert to repay Mr. Wallace's debt in kind."
O'Reilly didn't bother hiding his disappointment. "Well, then, I'll take the five hundred dollars."
"Which I would award to you," Olbermann told him, "if I believed a word that you have said today, which I do not."
"You calling me a liar?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." The judge picked up the promissory note and waved it dramatically. "I believe you forged this note. I also believe that this was a transparent scheme to ruin Mr. Colbert's business. This claim was brought three weeks ago. According to the sheriff, the Colbert Store was bolted shut that same day. You, Mr. O'Reilly, have defrauded Mr. Colbert out of three weeks of his livelihood and you have attempted to defraud this court. In order to make Mr. Colbert whole, I order you to pay him one thousand dollars in punitive damages."
Judge Olbermann banged his gavel once more and motioned for Steve to see O'Reilly out of the courtroom. Bill struggled and swore, he even tried to spit in Stephen's face, but the deputy had a firm grip on him and showed him to the door.
Amy hugged Stephen, then said, "I think I'll go on over to the boardinghouse for a while and tell John and Larry what happened. Should only take an hour or two," she added with a wink.
"Make it two," Jon said, risking a quick, amorous glance at his lover.
Stephen leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Make it three and I'll pay for your wedding."
Amy gave them four.
***
After that cocksucking deputy threw him into the street, Bill tried to ignore the laughter of the townspeople who used to fear him and brushed himself off. He marched to the House and poured himself a whiskey, then another, and another, and another.
How in the hell did this happen? He used to be king in this county. Everybody was scared shitless of him, even Lewis Black. Everything changed when that fuck Colbert came to town; him, that deputy, and that Englishman. One thing was sure, Colbert wouldn't see a fucking dime of that grand as long as Bill was still breathing.
He needed another Paul Dinello; a son-of-a-bitch gunfighter that would do anything Bill paid him to do. He'd start looking, but in the meantime, he could have a little fun with Oliver. He hadn't been at the courthouse, so Bill assumed he was still working for Wilmore. A white man working for a colored was just not right.
Bill finished his bottle of whiskey, then stumbled over to the restaurant. Not only was Oliver there, serving customers, but his whore was there as well, sitting at a small table, watching her beau work himself to death for her.
Oliver looked up and saw Bill enter. The Englishman reluctantly showed him to a table. "Would you like to see a menu?"
"I didn't come here to eat."
"Well, then I'll have to ask you to leave," John said stiffly. "These tables are for paying customers."
"Actually, I came here to see you, John."
"I have nothing to say to you, sir." John turned to walk away.
Bill leaned back in his chair. "How's Amy settling in? Three men and only one whore between you; must get awful lonely some nights. But she's worth waitin' for, ain't she? I always thought so."
John spun on him. "You shut your bloody mouth!"
"And if I don't?"
"I'll do it for you," John said in a menacing tone.
"Careful, John, Tad Dinello ain't here to fight your battles for you." Bill placed his Peacemakers on the table, pushing one of the guns towards John.
Amy rushed up behind John and took his hand. "Go on home, Bill! Leave us alone!"
"Just having a little chat with your betrothed," Bill told Amy. "Seems he's too much of a coward to defend your honor--what's left of it, anyway."
"I told you to shut your mouth!" John yelled.
"He's just trying to bait you into a fight," Amy pleaded.
"Pick up the gun, John. Show me what kind of man you are."
"No, sir, I will not," John said with his big English nose up in the air. "That you are a superior shot does not mean that you are a better man than I am. In fact, you are nothing but a petty bully and a cancer upon this town."
It was happening again.
Bill looked around him and saw the patrons nodding their heads and congratulating John on his fine speech. That English pipsqueak and his little whore were making a fool of him. The whiskey roaring in his veins caused his fury to bubble to the surface. He would reclaim this town, make them all fear him again as they once did.
Bill staggered to his feet and slid one of his guns across the floor, hitting the back of Oliver's shoe. "Pick it up, you bastard!"
The Englishman turned as O'Reilly raised his weapon. John reached for the revolver when a shot rang out. Larry ran out of the kitchen just as Bill O'Reilly crumpled to the ground, a pool of blood forming under his head. Larry checked on John and Amy, who were shaken, but unharmed. A few of the more delicate patrons left the restaurant immediately, but most of the diners went back to their meals.
"I ain't letting Bill O'Reilly spoil my dinner, dead or alive," Rob Riggle announced, eliciting laughter from the other patrons.
Lewis Black holstered his gun and took a seat. "Steak and eggs, Larry. Sorry about the mess."
Larry draped a checkered tablecloth over O'Reilly's body. "These things happen. Too bad it couldn't have happened sooner. Supper's on the house."
To be continued…