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“I’ll grant the continuance and adjourn the case. Please see the clerk for a new date and I expect to resolve the matter in full at that time.”
“Yes, of course, Your Honor.” I grab my papers. Mr. Campbell actually hands some to me as I tug on his arm, pulling him out of his chair and into the court’s hall. “Let’s go, and not a word until we get back to the office,” I whisper to my client harshly as I drag him behind me to get to the bottom of this.
* * * * *
Back at my office, we reconvene. “Back so soon? How did it go?” Lucas inquires and I push him out of my way, my client following close behind me. I see my dad pop his head out of his office only to shake it and go back inside, slamming his own door shut, leaving me irrevocably on my own as usual.
“Not now, you little turd.” Grumbling under my breath, I open the door to the conference room, usher Mr. Campbell inside, and shut the door in Lucas’ surprised face. “You better tell me what the hell that was about in there.” I slam my belongings down on the table, waiting for an answer.
“This isn’t my first DUI.”
“Obviously.” I pace the room to look out the large window, my arms crossed over my chest.
“I wasn’t caught after my first one.”
“Most people aren’t. That’s why the behavior is often negatively reinforced. Mr. Campbell are you going to get to the point of the story today or are you going to surprise me at our next court date, because I’ll have a hard time keeping you from jail if we piss the judge off.”
He visibly swallows before leading into his cautionary tale. “You may want to sit down for this.” Grunting, I stand until he starts. “I was young and stupid. I didn’t think a little alcohol was a problem for me until the accident.”
“What accident?” I walk over and lean over a chair at the conference table, urging him to continue.
“About thirteen years ago, sorry twelve and a half, I was driving north on route 101 toward Gold Beach.”
“You were drunk?” I ask, my heart feeling as though it is beating hard to get outside of my chest.
“Oh, honey, I was blitzed out of my mind. I’d been dumped by my girlfriend. She was cheating on me with my best friend and ran off with him. I had another friend who promised a stash of pot to forget my woes. All I had to do was drive up the coast to his place.”
“I think I need to sit down.” It’s a terrible movie playing in slow motion as Oscar Campbell gives me the details of that night. My body slumps down into the conference chair and my legal pad in front of me collects notes. It’s a night he regrets and would sooner forget, and one that burns a hole in my chest because of the unwanted knowledge I now have. Oscar Campbell caused the accident that killed Roman’s mother.
“Didn’t you feel sorry? Didn’t you want to come forward after it all happened?” Rage seethes through me, but I’m stuck with this client. I try to rack my brain for a way to recuse myself, to give up the case. There is no way I can be partial now. I will just have to come forward, come clean myself and tell my dad I can’t do it. Let him fire me, let him do his worst, but don’t make me betray Roman by having to harbor this knowledge.
“At the time, honestly, I was scared shitless. I was so messed up that night that when I came to at my friend’s place I was shocked I made it over the bridge at Rogue River. It wasn’t until days later when I read the paper and saw they were looking for a truck that hit that poor woman’s car. I never did forgive myself.”
“But you never came forward either…” I let the statement hang between us like a tightening noose. “What am I supposed to do with this information now?”
“Well, I’m thinking I’d like to confess. I’m a man addicted to alcohol and no 28 day rehab facility is going to fix me.”
“So you think jail is the answer?” I’m dumbfounded and, honestly, if there was alcohol in this office, I can say with certainty I’d have a drink right now.
“I’m not saying I want to go to jail, Ms. Holliday, but I need to clear my conscious and do the right thing. You see, I keep drinking because I keep playing that night over and over in my head. It’s nothing but a big black hole. I reckon I may not ever remember what happened, but it’s that memory of something that keeps drawing me back to the bottle. I figure if I confess, those dreams that haunt me will finally give me some peace and maybe forgiveness.”
“All right, um, I’ll need you to make a statement, have it notarized, and then I’ll have to contact the District Attorney and see how they want to handle this.”
“Do you think I could make restitution of some sort? To the family?” Mr. Campbell is sincere, but my patience is tapped.
“First of all, vehicular homicide is a class A felony in both California and Oregon where it occurred.”
“What does that mean?” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I pray for the floor to swallow me up.
“It means there is no statute of limitations. These are serious charges you are alleging, Mr. Campbell, so I have to advise you of the possible ramifications. Its anywhere from zero to maybe twenty years behind bars, and we still have your current charges to deal with on top of that.”
“Will you still defend me, Ms. Holliday? I can’t imagine doing this without you.” And hurt Roman beyond repair? I don’t know if I have much of anything left in me at this point. My phone, which has been sitting on top of the table all this time like a guilty eavesdropper, begins ringing with Roman’s ringtone—another melody from REO Speedwagon, “Keep On Loving You”—I chose just for him. I seriously wonder if Roman could keep loving me if he knew I’m about to take this secret with me to the grave. Fucking professional ethic all that jazz. I click the button to ignore the call, feeling a wave pull me under, afraid I might not be able to get back up and breathe again from the undertow’s force.
A knock on the door interrupted us as Mr. Campbell waits for my answer. Lucas pops his head in the office, a coy smile on his face. “Ready to go meet Leah at the spa?”
A rage overcomes me and I shout back uncharacteristically, “Not fucking now, you damn prick. I’m with a goddamn client!” My legal pad zooms across the room, hitting the door and narrowly missing Lucas. Mr. Campbell startles and I swear the bobby pins in my bun spring free from the tension.
“Well, then…I’ll meet you there. Looks like you could use a massage or something.” Lucas mumbles through the door. I could use a lot of things the way Lucas provokes me and try not to think of anything criminal.
