JUSTICE REBORN (A Charlie Taylor Novel Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

he enjoys playing
the big brother role. Although I am not a scientist, I have established a
formula for our dynamic: Sam + Monk= Mother.
    Sam has always been the academic in the
family. My university experience was dominated by the demands of a football
scholarship. By the time graduation arrived, I had collected enough knee damage
that a pro career was no longer an option. However, I had accumulated
sufficient credits to pursue a legal career but had trouble concentrating for
more than 30 minutes. Those volumes of legal texts presented too boring a
prospect for me.
    After a few undirected years, I joined the
police force and worked my way up the ladder. I live with two personality
traits: first, a unique sense of humor and second, a tendency to lose my
temper. This is a dangerous combination when confronting the bureaucratic
bullshit which is ingrained in the regimental mindset of a police department.
    Two other characteristics saved me: I’ve an
eye for detail and am able to discern patterns and relationships, not apparent
to others. So, even though I was known as a habitual hard ass with a big mouth,
I managed to progress up the ladder and solve some big cases.
     It’s ironic that an apostate should have a
priest as his best friend, but that’s what Monk has been since grade school.
The problem is that after a couple of beers in the relaxing company of Monk, I
revert to a superficial 16 –year- old. Bulletproof, shallow, a joker with a
world ready to be conquered.
     I try to calm him. “Listen big brother,
it’s not as bad as it sounds. Relax.”
    “You crazy bastard. You were drinking,
weren’t you?  How much did you put away?”
    When my wife and daughter were killed by a
drunk driver, I refused to acknowledge the new reality, even the grieving
process truncated.  I started drinking too much and exhibiting behavior of
someone who doesn’t give a damn about consequences. As a result, I’m in therapy
with a friend of Sam’s and have diminished my reputation in the department plus
gained a new nickname: Crazy Charlie.
    I rationalize by observing if I only have a
few drinks, I can remain a humorous drunk or, on occasion, a belligerent
asshole, a fun evening with no major harm done. I think I told you logic was
not my strong suit.
    This is going to be difficult. Damn Monk
can’t keep his mouth shut. I try to be light and funny. “I confess. I had a
couple with Monk before the game, but you know our spring dance will happen in
a few days. I have to get in shape and be ready for the big night.”
    Sam isn’t placated with that comment.
Always the worrier, he’ll not let go.
    “I’m listening. Tell me your version of
events. How does a homicide detective get arrested at a basketball game?”
    “Jesus, cool off. I had a few drinks at
home while Monk prepared supper. After eating, we rushed to the game. The
University men’s team is strong, and it was a blowout, a bit boring.  We had a
few more beers and near the end of the game hunger arrives, annoying
distraction.
       Right in front of us are three women;
the one in the middle is miss-motor-mouth and she never stops talking. Her
companion on the left is also talking. I don’t think either one heard what the
other one said. The third woman, on the right, sleeps through all of this.
Honest to God she is sleeping. Now in between her and the center talkative
blond is a huge barrel or pail of popcorn.
    Well, every now and then I reach down and
get a handful of popcorn. They never noticed, too busy talking. Near the end of
the game, I’m reaching down for my last handful, and the team executes one of
those dramatic ally-oop slam dunks. At this point, the center blond, for once
gets excited and jumps up to cheer, as my hand is going down ……and….and she
didn’t come straight up. It was more of a tilt right; my hand slips right on to
her right boob.”
    Sam makes some noise. “Stupid,
stupid…..this is hard to believe. You son of a bitch. You had more