The Curious Case of Christopher Comtois (Part III)

Denver

     The plans were all set.  My buddies would pick me up at 6:30 in the morning.  We would stop and get some coffee on the way up to ski.  I had only skied with these guys once, just a few weeks back.  Two guys that I met on the local rugby team that I played with.  It was the last Friday in February and the snow had finally started to get decent up in the mountains.  It was my first full ski season as a Colorado resident. I had only really picked up the sport five or so years previous on one of my trips to visit Kermit when he was working up at Winter Park.  Skiing and the mountains were two of the main reasons to move to Colorado. Florida was fun and a great novelty act but the lifestyle and weather in Colorado was more suited to my personality.  Whereas it was fun calling my friends in January as I was wearing shorts and getting ready to tee off somewhere, I missed the change of seasons.  And contrary to popular belief, the winters on the front range were pretty mild.  Everyone thinks of Denver as having a snowy and arctic winter, but in reality most winters at a mile high are filled with sunshine and mostly mild days. Yes, there are epic storms that come around but more often than not there are at least a few days a month in the winter that are golf-able. 

     It was quiet at home.  Kermit was away for the weekend at "Space Camp," a field trip that he was chaperoning with his middle school class.  It was getting late so I got my ski stuff together for the early morning and got ready for bed.  I learned early on that year that trying to go out on a weekend night and then getting up early to ski did not work. Maybe if I was 22, but at 32, it was one or the other.  Go out and sleep in or go to bed early and get up before the sun to beat the traffic.  If you leave even 30 minutes later than you had planned the trip may take twice as long.  So on this night I took the "responsible" route and was getting to bed before ten o'clock.  As I was preparing for sleep, I decided to check my e-mail.  During those few minutes, an instant message popped up on my screen.  It was Amanda, one of my former students in Orlando.  She was a senior the year before when I taught her class.  She also played on the varsity basketball team that I coached.  It was not unusual to get messages from those students from that class.  Her message said, "What did you do?"  I was puzzled as I had no idea what she was talking about.  I asked what she was talking about.  She asked the same thing again and I said that I didn't understand the question.  We went back and forth for a few minutes as I remained puzzled.  She then said, "I'm not supposed to say anything to you because I could get into trouble."  I sat and wondered exactly what she was getting at.  It was typical for that group of girls that I coached to play random jokes on me.  Many of them were still friends with my co-head coach Pam.  Her and her husband David had become good friends of mine and every once in awhile I'd get a message on my answering machine from a group of them who had gotten together.  Something funny.  This conversation seemed like it was going in the same direction.  So I pressed her for information and told her that I wouldn't say anything about it.  The next message that came on my screen said, "The police came to talk to me.  They asked me if I knew where your girlfriend last year worked and if I knew what type of cologne you wore."  Now I was really confused.  I asked her if she was serious.  She said yes and again reiterated that I couldn't say anything about her telling me about her conversation with the police.  I still thought it was some sort of a joke.  She promised that it wasn't.  She went on to tell me that the police had recently been to Orlando Lutheran and had asked a bunch of my former teacher friends questions about me.  I had no idea what she was talking about.  I figured that if it were true that I would have heard from someone.  I still was in contact with a few of them regularly and hadn't heard a thing.  Although we were only typing back and forth I got the sense that she was serious but it still didn't add up. I asked who they had talked to and she told me that she wasn't sure but gave me a few names.  Guys I knew very well.  She made me promise again to not repeat what she had just told me, which I did.  The conversation ended and I sat wondering what was going on.  Part of me still believed that this was an elaborate set up for a great joke.  These kids knew that I was a sarcastic wise-ass.  I played a multitude of jokes on them throughout the school year and ended up having a great relationship with them.  But another part of me wondered if what she was telling me was true.  Were police really going to my former employer and asking my friends and co-workers questions?  The only thing I could think of doing was calling one of them and just gauging how they sounded.  If they had been questioned and told not to tell me, perhaps I'd be able to tell in their voice.  Although it was late in Florida, I first called David and Pam but there was no answer.  I then called Todd, the Athletic Director at the school.  Todd and I played some golf together the year previous and had gone out on occasion to watch Cubs baseball games at a few local establishments.  I had talked to him a few times since moving so I gave him a call.  He answered the phone almost immediately. Todd was a jovial and fun guy.  Always laughing and joking.  When I'd call him he'd always give a big "HEY!" when he realized it me on the phone.  When he answered that night and I said hello, he just gave me a very monotone "hello."  Maybe I was reading into it.  Maybe he was just tired.  So I engaged in what would have been a normal conversation.  Asked how he was doing, what was going on at work, etc.  I probably talked about whatever awful off-season moves the Cubs had made and how he thought we'd do that season.  I was looking for any hint that something was wrong and whether or not he would bring up any police asking him questions about me.  Seemed like something that would come up fairly early if it were true.  But nothing.  So I just asked him.  I asked if any police had been around to see him.  He said no.  I kept my promise to not expose Amanda and didn't ask him anything further.   "No" was enough.  But I got off the phone thinking that he really didn't sound like his normal self.  Nothing about the previous hour of my life seemed to make sense, but I blew it off and went to bed.  If the police needed to talk to me it wasn't like I was on the lam and hiding.  And I hadn't done anything wrong so there was no need to worry.  It had to be a joke.  

     It was around 4am when I heard a knock at the door.  It was odd for anyone to come to our house and knock on the door minus the random solicitor, Girl Scout or Mormon.  But they usually don't come around in the middle of the night.  Perhaps they had a new late night program that they I wasn't aware of.  My bedroom was at the front of the house and the window next to my bed looked right out onto the porch.  After another knock, I sat up and slowly peered through the drapes.  What I saw was a team of policemen standing on my porch.  In the street were no less than eight Denver Police cars.  It was difficult to process what was going on. I was half asleep but the only thing that came to my mind was the information that I got from hours of watching the television show "Cops."  If I don't answer the door, they can't come in.  At least that was my first thought. Obviously something very serious was going on.  A police force does not come to your house at 4am to see how you are doing.  It wasn't a social call.  So I sat in bed and didn't move.  I hoped that they didn't see me look out the window.  I was more confused than scared.  But the conversations with Amanda and Todd suddenly became very real. Something was happening and people I knew had known about it and didn't tell me.  I didn't move and eventually I heard the police radios grow fainter as doors closed and cars drove away. They were gone.  But when police come to your house and no one answers, odds are pretty high that they are coming back.  But I was tired so I went back to sleep. Whatever it was that was going on would have to wait until I was better rested.

     I woke up again around 6am.  I thought that the knocks at the door were my rugby friends who were earlier than expected.   No luck.  It was the police again.  I did the same quiet peer through the shades saw the same regiment of uniformed men on my porch with what seemed like more cars in the street.  I again stayed still and waited until they left. Until they hopefully left.  Maybe they came back with a search warrant.  Did they bring the battering ram?  Was I going to jail in my underwear?  I hoped not.  But after a few more knocks, they were gone. This time I did not go back to sleep.  My first order of business was to decide if I was going skiing.  This was an actual conversation in my head.  I absolutely knew that whatever it was that brought law enforcement to my house twice before the sun came up wasn't going away.  They were coming back.  Maybe a good day of skiing was in order before facing whatever music was playing.  But good sense took over and I called my friends and left a message telling them not to pick me up.  I wasn't going to be able to join them.  I decided to get up, take a shower and put a plan together in preparation for the next visit from the Denver PD.  At least I was rested and not arrested. Yet.  

     I had been arrested before and I knew the drill.  I got into some mild trouble in high school for typical juvenile stuff and again after college with a DUI.  I was no saint.  But I had not done anything recently and certainly not anything that would bring a SWAT team to my house.  I was a school teacher with a good record.  But I knew two things:  I was going to jail today and I had no idea why.  After a shower I got dressed and put on clothes in preparation for whatever lie ahead.  No belt, jeans and a t-shirt.  They would take the belt anyway.  I then began writing down important phone numbers and information that would help my friends contact my family and friends if was not available.  It was now around 7:30 in the morning and I called my good friend Aimee.  She was one of my best friends.  Like me, she was from Kansas City and we worked together at the camp in Minnesota. She moved to Denver about two weeks after I did and lived just down the street.  She answered and I gave her a short rundown of the previous few hours.  She said that she would be right over.  

     When Aimee got there she began asking me questions that I didn't have answers to.  The only things that I knew for sure were the conversation with Amanda, the questions the police in Florida had asked her and that police had visited my house twice.  I assured her that I had no idea what they wanted.  There were no hidden secrets in any of my closets.  And she knew it.  So we brainstormed what to do next.  We decided that I should call the Denver police.  Whatever was going on had to be a mistake and getting out in front of it may be the best idea.  So I called the non-emergency police number and explained that I thought that some police had been to my house in the middle of the night.  After I was put on hold for a bit, the officer on the phone told me that a warrant had been issued for my arrest by the Orlando police department and that she didn't know the charge.  An arrest warrant for me?  I fumbled a little but then asked her if she had any other information.  She told me that all she had was the name of the officer making the warrant and his phone number.  I wrote down the name "Geoff Laney" and his direct line.  I hung up and relayed the conversation with Aimee.  "Call him!" she said.  So I did.  All I got was his voicemail so I said something like, "Officer Laney, this is Chris Justice in Denver, Colorado.  I was just told that you put out an arrest warrant for me.  Obviously this is some sort of mix up and I'd like to talk to you to clear this up."  I gave my phone number and hung up.  I even said something about him having a good day.  And that was it.  I had done all I could do.  I didn't want to call my mother since I had no idea what was happening.  She would ask unanswerable questions and begin to worry.  There was no need for worry.  I told Aimee that all we could do was wait.  They were coming back and probably soon since I'd just told them that I was home.  I gave her the phone list I had put together and told her to call my mother first.  It helped that she knew her very well.  I also explained the other numbers, which included my teaching partner at school as well as Jerry, the school board president.  I had no idea how long this all would take but someone at school should probably know if I was going to miss work on Monday.  With the plans in place, we put on a tape of "Remember the Titans."  What a great movie.  One of Denzel's best.  

My overriding thought was that maybe I had bounced a check in Orlando and that they were super serious about collecting on it.  Teaching isn't exactly the best paying profession and maybe I left the state with an outstanding debt.  It's all I could come up with.  I wouldn't say that I was overly anxious or nervous while we watched the movie because that isn't my nature.  I take everything as it comes.  Something was going on that was out of my control that I couldn't stop until I knew what it was.  I wasn't excited about the specter of going to jail but the train had already left the station.  I would simply have to wait and see and deal with it when I could. Things usually work out for me and this was going to be one of them.  Getting all worked up wasn't going to solve anything.  And maybe Officer Laney would call me back and realize that it was all a big misunderstanding and that would be that.  But right around the time that Coach Boone's team broke training camp, there was a knock at my door.  Then I got nervous.  I slowly walked to the door and opened it.  All of the guys were back.  There were probably six or seven officers on my porch and another ten standing in the street.  Cars were everywhere.  The officer standing in front of me asked me if I was Chris Justice.  I answered "yes."  He then told me that I was under arrest and asked me to turn around.  I did what he asked and he put the handcuffs on me, turned me back around and began walking me towards the cavalcade of cars.  "What is he being arrest for?" Aimee shouted.  Things suddenly got a little more complicated when one of the officers next to me turned as we walked and said, "Kidnapping."   The check bouncing theory went out the window.