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He rubbed a finger over his lip as he sat back and studied me. “Yes, someone was definitely looking out for you. Tell me why I should grant you this expungement? What are you planning on doing for society?”
“Well, sir, three hours ago, I officially became the owner of the Millerstown Tavern. Well, co-owner. I have two partners.”
“Are they club members?”
I shook my head quickly. “No, sir. Laney Buckworth-Winston and her sister-in-law Candy Winston have both invested with me.”
“You aren’t going to turn this into a biker slum bar, are you? I happen to eat there once in a while.”
“No, sir.” I smiled at him. “We have plans to enlarge it and add outdoor seating that will be covered in the winter. Laney and Candy have both been incredible with their suggestions.” I paused. “I’ve worked there in one capacity or another since I was sixteen. I was managing the place and running the bar, but now I only work days because—”
He lifted a brow. “Because why?”
“Well, I recently found out that I had a son. His mother died of breast cancer, and he was living in horrible conditions.” I didn’t think he needed to know about the heroin.
“What kind of conditions?”
I tensed. “Thanks to Detective Ethan Wilson, he was able to collect the information for me.” I didn’t think it would hurt to keep dropping names, especially names he might know. “Nancy, Harley’s mom, rented a room in a boarding house in Philly. They didn’t even have a bathroom or a kitchen. My son never left that room, and—” My head dropped as I thought about my following words.
“And what, Mr. Bollard?”
I lifted my face. “And she was a prostitute that used to bring her johns there. Sometimes, they got her high, and then the men would molest Harley.”
A mask of anger descended over his features. “And how is your son doing now?”
“Better. Harley is six and doesn’t even know his colors, but he is learning them. He also only ate hot dogs. Now he is eating just about anything you put in front of him. He has a long way to go before attending public school, but the Winston family is helping me. Carmen Winston is counseling him too.”
He asked me a few more questions, seemingly very interested in what I had to say about my son. I was happy to share it all with him. “I’ve known Richard Winston since high school. My kids grew up with his kids, and I have to say that if you surround yourself with those particular people, especially Laney Buckworth-Winston, you are obviously trying to rebuild your life.” He paused. “I appreciate what you are doing, Mr. Bollard. It takes a strong man to take on a child with those kinds of issues. Make sure to give him patience as well as love.”
“Yes, sir.”
He stared at my file. “I wasn’t sure what to do with this when it came over my desk. I’m not a fan of motorcycle gangs, and I have seen the destruction that they do, but I also know that your charges were from when you were younger, and I am well aware that being new to a club, you have to prove yourself.”
“That is very true, sir, but I will admit to being off the rails a little back then. I wasn’t a drug addict, but I drank a lot. I don’t now—just a few beers now and then.”
“Since your arrests were from when you were in your twenties, and you appear to be trying to rebuild your life and surrounding yourself with upstanding citizens, I shall grant your expungement.”
“Really, sir?” I wanted to jump out of my seat, but I was also frozen, afraid that I had misheard him.
“Yes.” He leaned up to his desk and picked up a pen, flipping the papers in front of him to the last page and then looking at me sternly. “I do not do this often, Mr. Bollard. Do not prove me wrong. If I ever see you back in this courthouse for a criminal matter, I will throw the book at you and give you the hardest sentence that I can possibly give you. Do you understand that?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir. I completely understand. You won’t even see me here for a parking violation. I swear.”
He harumphed and then scribbled his name over the line. “I hope I don’t.” He stood, and I got to my feet as he came around his desk and stood before me. “This is a chance to start anew. Make the most of it, Michael.”
I took his offered hand. “Sir, I will. I most definitely will.”
He handed me the papers and told me to take them to his secretary. I walked out with my head spinning and stood beside her desk. When she hung up the phone, she turned to me and smiled. “Ah, I see he approved it. Very nice.”
She took the paper from me and then made a copy before going around her desk and picking up her phone. After a few moments, she spoke. “Hello, Margo, it’s Sandra in Judge Sherman’s office. I am sending down a Michael Bollard to you with a signed document. Can you please record it and give him two certified copies?” She waited for a second and then said thank you and hung up.
“Take the elevator down to the first floor, turn left and then left again, and it will be the fourth door on your right. Ask for Margo, and you will be good to go.”
“Thank you very much.” I took the papers back from her and then left the office. I was still replaying everything the judge had said to me as I went down and waited in the office for my copies. She gave them to me in an envelope, and I stepped out of the office and walked toward the door.
There was a bench near the entrance, and I sank on it and pulled out the papers. I had no idea what they said, so I began reading. Most of it was legal wording that made no sense, but I understood the charges as they were listed and the time I had done for the assault. I hadn’t thought about a few minor infractions, like disorderly conduct, public drunk, and two traffic citations. I stared at the final page. It had all been wiped clean—gone.
I didn’t realize that I was crying until a tear fell on the paper, and then I quickly wiped my eye and looked up to find Ethan Winston standing four feet away, watching me like a hawk.
