Propensity For Love: Chapter 1

Vernon Eugene Brooks is a wealthy man in many ways. With a successful legal practice, a loving family, a talented daughter and a beautiful woman by the name of Rene Naverone at his side, one would think he had it made. Wrong.

“Next case,” the judge called out.

“The Commonwealth of Virginia vs. Vernon Brooks,” the clerk announced.

The judge’s head flew up with startled eyes. “Mr. Brooks, I must say I’m somewhat surprised,” he said in a voice filled with confusion.

“I am somewhat perplexed myself, Your Honor.” The six-two, one hundred ninety-five pounds, Vernon Brooks stood at the defense table. The statement was not frivolous. He honestly was at a loss as to why he was placed under arrest for the murder of his estranged wife, Constance Brooks.

Close to forty-eight hours ago, he walked into his wife’s condominium to find her lying in a pool of blood with a gun, inches from her hand. At first sight, it looked as if she had shot herself. However, moments after discovering her body, Vernon heard the click of a gun being cocked behind him. He grabbed the gun off the floor, swung around, and fired. Seconds later, Rene Naverone, a woman he was slowly falling in love with and his twenty-one-year-old daughter, Taylor, came through the door followed by two police officers with their weapons drawn. They found him holding a gun and standing over a dead body that had a gunshot wound. The logical conclusion was that he was the person who fired the fatal shot.

While being questioned, Vernon revealed that his cell phone had been recording from the moment he stepped out of his car until he entered the house. The recording supported his statement, and he was released. Now he was standing in arraignment court answering to the charge of First-Degree Murder.

“What do we have, Mr. Murdock?” the judge asked the prosecutor.

“Bruce Murdock for the people, Your Honor.” The prosecutor pulled open the folder and read from the police report. “Mr. Brooks was found standing over the dead body of his estranged wife. We are asking he be held without bond.”

The judge stared in dismay at the prosecutor. “Are you certain those charges are against Mr. Brooks and not his client, Mr. Murdock?”

Sensing something was amiss, the prosecutor reread the charges, then looked at the judge. “That’s what it reads here, Your Honor.” He then looked at the men standing at the defense table.

“Vernon.” The judge looked at him questioningly, filled with concern.

“Not guilty, Your Honor,” Vernon stated.

“James Brooks for the defense, Your Honor.”

“It’s a family affair, I see,” the judge stated. “Tell me this is some type of a joke, Mr. Brooks,” the judge spoke as the clerk handed him the file.

“I concur, Your Honor.” James nodded. “However, technically the statement is correct. As to bail…”

“A moment, Your Honor.”

Everyone turned to see the familiar face of District Attorney Neal Kirkland as he walked through the entrance, dressed in his thousand-dollar suit.  A television camera and reporter were behind him.

“Mr. Kirkland, what is the meaning of this?” The judge pointed to the reporter. “The press is not allowed in my courtroom.”

“Your Honor, they are working on a documentary, The True Defenders of Justice. They follow me twenty-four, seven.”

“Not in my courtroom, they don’t. Bailiff.” The judge pointed to the door. “State your business, Mr. Kirkland.”

Neal Kirkland, with his blonde hair, blue eyes, and all-American charm, handed a document to the bailiff. “The people are submitting a motion requesting this arraignment be moved for disposition.”

The judge read the document. “On what grounds?” he asked, clearly perturbed by the request.

“Mr. Brooks is well known by the courts and the people believe an impartial judge should preside over all aspects of this case, including the arraignment.”

The judge glared at Kirkland for a long hard moment.

“Your Honor,” James and Vernon objected simultaneously.

“I’m with you, Mr. Brooks.” James shot Vernon a look as the judge continued.

“Mr. Kirkland, this court is not going to allow you to run ram-shackle on this case if it gets anywhere near a court. You are insinuating this court cannot be impartial.”

“Your Honor, there is no question as to this court’s integrity. However, Vernon Brooks makes his living in these courts. He is well known by all the judges.”

“As well as many others,” James interrupted. “Is it DA Kirkland’s intention to move this case out of the country?”

Kirkland looked up to see the two Brooks brothers standing side by side staring at him. It was an unsettling feeling. It was one thing to bring down Vernon, quite another when it came to James Brooks. What the hell. If he chooses to stick by his brother on this, he will bring James down as well. If the crap hit the White House in its wake, all the better. “Mr. Brooks. It is an honor to have the advisor to the President with us. I am certain we can find a court here to serve our needs.”

James noticed the smug look on Kirkland’s face as Vernon whispered in his ear. James nodded. “We have no objections to changing courts, Your Honor.”

“Very well. Approach the bench. Bailiff, give me the list of available courts.”

James, Vernon, Kirkland and Murdock gathered at the bench. The judge looked at the calendar. After glancing through, he looked up. “Your request is granted, Mr. Kirkland. Bailiff, contact Judge Silvio. Advise her she has a case coming over. Be sure to advise her that D.A. Kirkland is attempting to manipulate the court system. Step back, gentlemen.”

“Your Honor,” Kirkland interrupted. “I’m not certain I agree with the court placing an opinion on record. After all…”

“Put on your big girl panties, Neal,” Vernon sneered. “You’re in the big leagues now.”

“Your Honor!”

“Be careful what you ask for, Mr. Kirkland.”

“It’s D.A. Kirkland.”

“Earn it,” the judge replied without looking up. “Mr. Murdock, I take it you are handling the next case. It’s not big enough for Mr. Kirkland to soil his hands. No media potential.” The judge’s gavel came down on the desk. “Next case.”

Vernon and James turned to the people in the courtroom as they stepped from the defense table. Rene Naverone, the five-eight, one-hundred-and-twenty-pound ex-Secret Service agent who had captured Vernon’s attention and James’ Secret Service detail, walked with them out the door.  A police officer took Vernon by the elbow.

James held up his hand. “Would you give us a minute?”

The officer looked to his partner and nodded. They took a step back, giving the group a little space.

Vernon took a deep breath. “From the top attorney in the country to this.”

“You think a bit much of yourself, don’t you?” James, who was taller than his older brother, teased as they stood in the foyer of the courthouse in a moment of discomfort. He looked away then back to Vernon. “The police had to make the arrest based on the evidence at the crime scene. Do they still have your cell phone?”

“Yes,” Vernon replied as he thought. “We need to get that back as soon as possible.”

“Anything on there they can use against you?”

“If they knew what they were looking at, it could make things interesting.”

Rene Naverone was leaning against the wall as the brothers talked, stepped forward. “I’ll take care of it.” She walked off as Vernon watched.

“You can’t do that.”

Vernon glanced at James, then back at Naverone. “Those jeans, the leather jacket and the spike heels turn me the hell on. Watch. Don’t you hear it?” He put his hand up to his ear.

“Hear what?”

“The jeans screaming come get me. Go straight through the red light and don’t stop until you reach the go sign right between my thighs.”

“Do they say go to jail? What’s inside those jeans is the motive the DA needs to put you behind bars.”

“It’s not going to happen.” Vernon smiled at his brother.

“How can you be certain about that?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “For one, I didn’t kill her. And two, my brother is defending me.”

James smiled. “You are willing to put your life in my hands?”

Vernon shrugged. “I’ve done it before, and you didn’t let me fall.” The two held each other’s stare, then laughed out loud at the private joke.

“Why isn’t this man in handcuffs?” Kirkland yelled at the officers as he walked towards them with the reporter and cameraman in tow.

Vernon and James turned towards him as the Secret Service agents held the reporter and cameraman back.

“I don’t see him trying to escape,” the officer replied.

“He is a man under arrest for murder,” Kirkland countered as he stopped in front of Vernon. “There will be no special favors because your last name happens to be Brooks.”

“You contradict yourself. I am indeed getting the special treatment. Neal Kirkland, the great District Attorney himself, came to the dungeon from your palace on the hill just to see me.”

“I came to finally ensure you are put where those animals you defend should be. I am going to go for the maximum on you, Brooks. And make no mistake, I will see you under a jail.”

“So much for seeking justice which is supported by truth.”

“Truth,” Kirkland laughed. “When did you become interested in truth?” He laughed sarcastically. “That statement is funny coming from you, the attorney to the stars who defiles the truth at will just to line your pockets.”

Vernon took a step forward getting into Kirkland’s personal space. “It is your responsibility to prove beyond a reasonable doubt, to convict. Don’t blame me because you and your team fall short.” He looked the man up and down. “Try getting your suits tailored rather than off the rack at the warehouse, it helps with confidence.”

“Handcuff him!” Kirkland growled.

“For what? Because he wears better suits than you?”

Kirkland slowly turned to the officer with a glare that would burn most people. “Do it or turn in your resignation.”

James stepped between Vernon and Kirkland. “He will not be handcuffed during these proceedings. If you have an issue with that, talk to your boss, the Attorney General of The United States.” He looked from Vernon to Kirkland. “If you are finished posing for the camera, let’s get this hearing over with so my brother can mourn the death of his wife and see to her burial.” James and Vernon walked off as Kirkland stood there watching.

“Make that the last time you grandstand with Kirkland,” James said to Vernon.

“He’s an asshole.”

“I don’t disagree. But he is the asshole who will gain political ground and personal satisfaction in seeing you behind bars.” He stopped. “He’s going to throw everything he has at you.”

“Are you concerned?” James stared at his brother. “Hell, no. I’m a Brooks. We eat assholes like him for breakfast.”