B18) Subpoena time

We were at the country club, Karen, Brittany and I. I’d play 18 then met them at the pool for a swim and a meal. The cops had just raided our home the week before and we were pretending nothing was wrong when everything was wrong.

It was a beautiful day.

Brittany was only six months old or so. She was in my arms. We left the pool and head back to the locker room to change.

I passed two men with evil intent written all over them. Their look of evil hit me like a shock wave. As I passed the men I turned to get a better look. I felt the need to let their look burn in real deep. I want to commit their faces to my memory.
As I turn to look at them they in turn do the same.

I see the look in their eyes. They know me. These guys know me. They are here for me. 

They call out my name and begin to follow me.

With Brittany in my arms I clutch her even closer as I prepare to start moving with great urgency away from these men.

Are they shooters?

Are they here to take me out at the country club with my kid in my arms?

One reaches into his jacket pocket and out comes the…. The….. the gun? No. No gun. Out comes the subpoena.

Holy fucking shit. Cops. Are you kidding me? Fucking cops at my country club. This is harassment. This is bullshit.

Not knowing what to do I  know I do not want the paper/subpoena. I turn and walk fast away from them but they are in a hot pursuit. Right on my heels.

I jump into a golf cart and speed off down the 18^th fairway.

They did not pursue.

The noose was tightening.

They wanted my handwriting for analysis. They found drug ledgers in my home during the searches. They were putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

An indictment seems like an inevitability.