I went up the escalator to the fifth floor. As I approached the fifth floor I observed Jeffrey Motter and his parents and brother. I walked quickly and quietly past them. No sense in starting something now. I entered the courtroom, which was almost empty except for a few people sitting in the front row watching two attorneys argue a point in front of the Judge. The defendant was an inmate, dressed in an orange jump suit. He stood off to the side of his attorney. As I sat down I could hear some of the argument.
“Your Honor,” the defendant’s attorney stated, “Surely you must see by my clients past court dates he has always shown up.”
“Your Honor,” countered the States Attorney, “His client is incarcerated. He has nothing else to do but show up.”
“Judge, I object. Council knows I am speaking of when he was out on bail. He doesn’t have to insult my client just because he doesn’t have enough money to arrange for bail.”
Yeah, I thought, not enough money for bail and to pay your fee.
“Your Honor, Mr. Hernandez broke into the victim’s house, robbed the victims, then for no thinkable reason, terrorized their children, ages five and seven. For this reason the State is asking for a denial of bail.” The States Attorney was good. He emphasized just the right words, using the infliction of his tones to strengthen his point. But what would the Judge say?
“Council, due to the many different levels of this particular matter I have to weigh several aspects. How much was taken in the robbery. The breaking into a house to commit this alleged crime. But also, and to me, a very large part of this alleged crime is the fact that if Mr. Hernandez is released now, how safe would the children feel? Considering all of these matters I am going to refuse the consideration for bail. Deputy, please take Mr. Hernandez back to jail.”
The older woman sitting in the front row started to cry. “Please Judge, let my boy go.” The Judge tried to ignore her and went on with his business. Her boy, I thought, her little boy. How many times did her little boy frighten other really good little boys? I was happy the Judge saw through it. Now if he could just keep up his good judgment for a little while longer.
The Judge then announced, “Call the next case.”
“The State verses Jeffrey Motter.”
Motter’s attorney’s assistant, Arnold Kukec, told the Judge, Mr. Motter and his attorney Mr. Wilson were in the hall and he would go out and have them step in. Kukec was gone about three minutes. They all entered the courtroom, one after the other. There was Jeffrey Motter, Wilson, Kukec, Motter’s parents, and his brother, one big happy family. I could spit in any one of their eyes.
Motter took his usual position at the table, to the left of Wilson, with Kukec to Wilson’s right. Motter’s parents and his brother Mark Motter sat in the second row, directly behind Jeffrey Motter. Patricia Motter, Jeffrey’s mother, looked straight at me, eye to eye. I was thinking, “For a woman in her upper sixties or seventies, she sure embraces a lot of hate.” It was more than a look; it was a glare, the hate was just shooting out of her eyes. She wanted to let me know in no uncertain terms, she hated me.
“I’m sorry Your Honor,” started Wilson. “My client and I were just going over a few things for today’s hearing. We are ready to start, if the State is now ready.”
Judge Peterson looked over at States Attorney Brent Clark. Clark replied, “We are ready, have been ready, it was Mr. Wilson who was not in the courtroom when the case was called.”
Hey, that was pretty good, a States Attorney with some balls. I was very wary as to what would happen with the case. I knew both sides had their agendas to follow but after all this time I was tired of being the one always, and it did feel like always, being the one to give into Wilson’s demands.
“It appears here we are up on a status check. I see the State has delivered to you, Mr. Wilson, a corrected time layout of the alleged occurrences. Is that correct?” Judge Peterson asked.
“We have received some papers from Mr. Clark and they appear to have dates written on them, however, since I have just received this, I have not had time to look it over and talk with Jeffrey concerning what it says. We will do this at our first available time. I would like to ask Mr. Clark, if this is the best the complainant could do? Will this be the end so that Jeffrey won’t have to continue to try and remember where he was on all those dates, if there are any dates? Or is it to simply remain over all those years?”
I was again sitting there fit to be tied. We are putting Jeffrey through too much. My son has to relive these attacks over and over but Jeffrey does not like having to think about it. I wanted to get up and scream, “BULLSHIT.”
“What we would be asking for today is a new status date to ascertain if the paperwork we received today will be to our satisfaction.” The amazing thing to me was that whenever Wilson asked a question or made a statement, he did it with a straight face.
Judge Peterson asked both the State and Wilson which days would be good for them. The next date was set for December 14th, at nine-thirty a.m. I opened my calendar and placed the date in it. Wilson, Motter, and his group got up and started for the door. I decided to wait.
After about ten minutes I left the courtroom. As I entered the hallway I observed Theodore Wilson II and Motter’s family standing to my right, approximately fifty feet down the hall. To my left I saw Jeffrey Motter, standing alone looking at me. He started walking towards me and I towards him.
It was at this time, my boss; Corporal Jillian Monroe was looking at the hall monitor facing the outside of my courtroom. She could see both Motter and me. She saw that we were walking straight towards each other and that our eyes appeared to be locked onto each other.
“No Timmy, no. Keep walking. Don’t do it,” Monroe yelled watching the monitor screen. With this everyone else in the room looked up at the monitor.
“He’s going after him,” Danielle Lee said.
They were all too far away to physically do anything to stop me if I wanted to do anything to Motter. Our steps kept getting closer. We were only three feet away from each other. I could see in his eyes there was something going on in his head. Was it to hit me? Will he spit at me? Will he say, “I’m sorry”? Didn’t matter, wouldn’t matter. What this man did to my son…
We were now passing each other, both passing on the others right side. Our heads turned as we watched each other walk by. It was like slow motion. My breathing was deep and heavy.
Up in the control room Monroe was anything but in control. She again was shouting, “Keep going, and don’t stop now. Get back down here.”
I did continue to pass and never looked back. But before I could reach the escalator I was second guessing myself. Should I have gone after him? How could I just walk by and not attack him? I put my foot on the escalator and started my decent to the second floor and back to the control room. It was over, good, bad, or indifferent, today was over.
As I entered the control room Monroe said, “I’m glad you didn’t stop. I was screaming at you to keep walking.”
“Oh, that was what I heard? Just sounded like a screech to me,” I laughed but then added, “seriously, thanks for watching. I didn’t even know what I was going to do.” Monroe gave me a hug. I was again completely drained emotionally. Wouldn’t this be over soon? Couldn’t this please, be over soon?
* * *
The next few months went forward with no changes, just some maneuvering between the defense and States Attorneys. But finally a date was set for hearings. The date would be March 1st, a real first in this whole trial as something was actually going to happen. States Attorney Brent Clark told me that on March 1st the case would move forward. He wanted to have a meeting with Tony, Stephanie, and me. We set a date for February 20th. He would tell us at that point who would be testifying from both sides and what the testimony would be in reference to.
I went home to tell Stephanie and Tony what was going to happen. When I told Tony he didn’t have much of a reaction. He was just happy it was finally moving on. St
ephanie wasn’t much different, except of course for the screaming. “It won’t go. You just wait and see. Everything is set up to delay this trial and this pedophile still walks the streets a free man possibly harming other children.”
“I know what you’re saying but this time, even the Judge wants to get on with it.” I was still trying to defend the system because I knew this time we had a date set for the suppression hearing. These were the statements and other pieces of evidence Motter and his attorneys did not want to go to trial. He wanted them to be removed from the evidence the jury would hear.
“This is not about us. This is not about the crime. This is about keeping a guilty person out of jail for as long as the system will allow it. This is about a defense attorney making as much money as he can off of our sons anguish,” Stephanie said.
“I’m not saying anything different than you, however, it will proceed.” I knew this ripped deep into Stephanie as it did for me too, but I had to believe it was on its way to being over.
* * *
February 20th arrived as any other day did. The household was quiet as we prepared to sit down once again with Brent Clark and Gary Wagner our two States Attorneys, who I honestly believed wanted this case over but not at the cost of missing anything or having something, go wrong and losing it. Tony was asking what would be discussed today. Even though I basically knew what the procedure would be I thought it best to have the States Attorneys tell it their way.
The day was extremely cold but the sun was shining bright. I started the car to warm it up. I looked at the trees in our front yard. They were glistering with new fallen snow from last night. My vision was that of a million tiny cameras flashing as the sun bounced off each flake. Each day is filled with wonder, God’s greeting to you every morning with the sunrise and His equally beautiful painting of the sky at night. Just makes you glad to be alive.
We all entered the car and headed off to the States Attorney’s Office. There was only small talk on the drive. I could feel Tony’s apprehension about having to talk about his ordeal again. But we were moving on.
I had a small list of questions to ask States Attorneys, Clark and Wagner. But the most important to me was, this is the start of being over, it will go for sure.
When we arrived at the States Attorney’s Office we sat in the waiting area for States Attorney Clark or Wagner to take us back to their office or a meeting room. Brent Clark showed up after about a fifteen-minute wait. We walked through the congested States Attorney’s Offices, approximately sixty cubicles of States Attorneys some with the same types of cases others with many different types of cases. We settled in a meeting room. There were two pictures on the wall showing attorneys before the bench with a Judge appearing to be in deep thought. A large table roughly seven feet wide and thirty feet long. Twenty-five chairs surrounded the table with eight more along the wall. Other than those items the room was empty.
As we walked in States Attorney Gary Wagner was seated at the table. He was sitting about in the middle of the table with one chair next to him pulled out and three chairs across the table pulled out. Brent Clark motioned for us to have a seat across from them. Everyone sat down. Clark asked if we wanted anything to drink. We had brought diet Cokes with us and just placed them on the table.
“Well folks,” Clark started, “we should find out very soon how they will be presenting their case. They have objected to the confession, the tape of his confession, the testimony of Sammy Bowlinger and Ken Saucer, all the photos off the computer including the pictures taken of other boys by him, the pictures he took of Michael Sampson, his statement to his mother at the car, basically everything we have on him. He wants his trial now in a hearing to see how it will go.”
“But we feel we have a very, very strong case and do not intend to lose any of our evidence,” Wagner said. “Everything was done completely by the book in this case so we are confident the Judge will rule in our favor.”
“This is not to say we are not going to be thorough in presenting our case,” Clark interjected. “I always go by the theory you never know what will happen.”
“Who will you be calling to the stand?” I asked.
Clark answered, “We are planning to call Officers Matthew Williamson, Dominic Hattle, and Bill Wasmiak, also Detectives Evan Tonka and Paul Hennesey, Sammy Bowlinger, Ken Saucer, and possibly Michael Sampson.”
“Who will they have?”
“At this time,” Clark started, “they have four witnesses but they haven’t yet advised us who they would be. We believe it will be Motter’s mother and father and possibly his sister. But that last one remains a mystery, maybe he will go on the stand.”
“I can’t believe they would put Motter on the stand,” I said.
“Well, we would be very limited of the questions we could ask. It would depend where they would take us,” Clark said.
Wagner added, “But I would welcome any opportunity to question him. Let the Judge see what kind of person he is. That could help us down the line.”
“Let’s not go there,” said Clark. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“So at the hearing Tony won’t have to testify?” I asked.
“No. He won’t even have to be there. As for that matter, neither will either of you. But, of course, you are both welcome to show up,” Clark stated.
“Why are we here today?” I asked.
“We wanted to go over a few things with all of you and to tell you what was going to happen. I know you know this Tim, but for your wife and son to understand we felt it important to tell them.”
The meeting continued for an hour and a half basically going over the same things as before. Making sure our story hadn’t changed. The good thing we had going was our story was the truth; we didn’t have to remember any lies, which is where most stories go bad.
Finally the time had come. Clark asked the question, “Do you have any other questions?”
I had to ask, “Will it go for sure? Is this the beginning of the end?”
“You can never say anything is for sure in this business. But I can say we are ready, the Judge is ready, and he wants to move this case. So I would say it should go. March 1st is right around the corner. We will see then.”
I listened and deep down I knew that was going to be the answer, however, I knew it was not going over well with Stephanie. Leaving was quick and empty. A hollow feeling really, like nothing had transpired for the last two hours.
Walking out to the car Tony seemed relieved. He didn’t have to go over everything again. I knew, as I always reminded myself, I was walking next to a very brave boy. Even Stephanie was somewhat subdued. Now all we had to do was wait until March 1st.
As I looked around the snow still glistened on the tree branches and in the bushes. What we needed to do was take in this day we had together, “Hey, how about Papa Joeys for some pizza?” A resounding all right engulfed my ears.
***
I woke up March 1st without the help of an alarm. This was due to the fact I hardly slept at all. I tossed and turned so much that I kept Stephanie awake as well. But she had
told me she would not have been able to sleep anyway. There was just too much on our minds.
We arrived at the courthouse at eight-thirty; the hearing was to begin at nine-thirty. I drove with Tony in the front passenger seat and Stephanie in the back. I walked through the security pass line with Tony and Stephanie going through regular security. As I waited for them to clear security I didn’t want eye contact with other deputies. I sometimes still got choked up talking about the case.
Deputy Charles Brown saw me standing on the side and made his way over to me. “Timmy, I heard your hearing was today. Good luck. You know, I still don’t know why you just didn’t pop him. That’s what I would have done.”
“Yeah…” my voice just trailed off. You may have done that but I couldn’t even smack the guy when we passed in the hallway. What’s wrong with me? Thinking about it I could easily get a wea
pon into this building.
Stephanie and Tony were now walking up to me. “Well, got to go.” I walked away from Deputy Brown and went up the escalator with Stephanie by my side and Tony one-step down.
We reached the fifth floor and proceeded to courtroom 5005. We were early by about a half an hour. I took the lead and sat in the first row behind the States Attorney’s table. There was no sign of Motter or any of his family.
We sat there for over two hours, through several other motions for new status dates. How well I knew of this maneuver. There were breaks and an occasional inmate brought before the Judge.
Tony was growing impatient and was asking if he didn’t have to be there could he leave. I told him he could leave at any time. He stepped outside the courtroom to call his girlfriend to come and pick him up. When he came back into the courtroom he said, “I know where Jeffrey and his parents are. They are out in the hallway.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Nothing was said. But will you walk me out when I leave?”
“Not a problem.”
After about fifteen minutes Tony received a vibration on his cell phone. “She’s here.”
“Let’s go,” I said.
We walked past everyone standing in the hall; both Tony and I were looking straight ahead, no words, no eye contact. Leaving the building I saw Tony’s girlfriend parked in the parking lot, sitting in her car waiting for Tony. “You okay?” I asked before I left him cross the outside sitting area to the parking lot.
“I will be, once I’m out of here.” He turned as he walked away and gave me a smile. I was glad he was getting out.
I re-entered the building. Walked right through the security bypass and started up the escalator.
Back in the courtroom Stephanie’s eyes caught mine as soon as I walked through the door. They were ready to start. The case had already been called and all the attorneys and Jeffrey Motter were in front of the bench.
I could hear Motter’s attorney, Theodore Wilson II, saying, “Judge, we have interested people in the courtroom with us here today and I want them admonished if they are permitted to stay.”