Courts of Garrowville

Ken Siegel

Description

The quiet, peaceful town of Garrowville, Pennsylvania had very little crime and no homicides until the tragic murder of Jennifer Stohler, a beloved member of the community. Almost immediately, Michael Stohler, the victim's husband, is presumed by seemingly everyone, including the Garrowville police, to be the murderer. Gossip, circumstantial evidence, and sensationalist media coverage continually feed that presumption. There is just one problem. He didn't do it. But who did? While the police and district attorney are focused solely on the arrest and conviction of their presumed culprit, Michael Stohler hires an attorney to defend him and an investigator to find out what really happened. The race against the clock is on. As the drama in the courthouse is unfolding, will the real killer be identified in time before Michael Stohler is wrongfully convicted of the murder?

Sujets

• Thriller

Informations

• Publié par: First Edition Design Publishing
• Date de parution: 01 novembre 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781506900018
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Courts of Garrowville
A Novel by
Ken Siegel
The Courts of Garrowville
Copyright ©2015 Ken Siegel

ISBN 978-15069-0000-1 PRINT
ISBN 978-15069-0001-8 EBOOK

LCCN 2015948753

September 2015

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com



ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns ─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r or publisher .

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Prologue

It was referred to as “The Murder.” You should note that it was not referred to as “a murder,” or simply “murder,” but rather it was known as “The Murder.” That is what happens when a small town with zero homicides in over 100 years of existence, and practically no other publicly known criminal activity, suddenly has a murder. It tends to be big news. In a close-knit small town like Garrowville, located in western Pennsylvania, everyone knows everyone else and the local news predominantly consists of bake sales and church outings. Therefore, it is easy to understand how a murder can dominate the local chatter.
But this was no ordinary murder. The victim, Jennifer Stohler, was a beloved member of the community who couldn’t possibly have had any enemies. She was a school teacher who was adored by her students, their parents, and her colleagues. She was a leader in the town’s church, and was the one who often organized the community’s charitable events. She lived her whole life in Garrowville and had been the captain of Garrowville High School’s cheerleading squad, as well as the prom queen.
Jennifer was beautiful, smart, and funny. She was the only child of a single mom, who tragically died of cancer at the young age of 44, when Jennifer was only 20. After losing her mother, many of the town’s residents looked after Jennifer as if she were their own daughter or sister. But she had no real family other than me and my parents. I was her husband.
My name is Michael Stohler and I had, until a few years ago, lived in Garrowville. I was born and raised there and can trace my family roots in the town all the way back to my great-grandfather, Otto Stohler. Otto settled in Garrowville and founded the highly successful steel manufacturing plant named Stohler Steel during the Industrial Revolution of the late 1800’s. Stohler Steel had been a profitable family business for four generations. The plant employed many of Garrowville’s residents and was a substantial part of the town’s economy for a long time, until “The Murder.”
I attended all the public schools in Garrowville and I starred on the Garrowville High School’s football and basketball teams. Other than my four years at Ohio State University, I had, until recently, lived my whole life in Garrowville. Immediately after college, I returned home to continue the family tradition of working at the plant. Each day when I arrived for work, it was a source of great pride for me to see my family’s name in large, gold letters above the grand front entrance of a magnificently successful steel plant that was presided over by several generations of Stohlers.
After ten years, I took over the company when my father, George Stohler, retired. I was very happy and proud to be running my family’s business and living in such a great town where I was surrounded by life-long friends.
Most of all, I was happy and proud to be married to Jennifer. She was 5’6”, had long blonde hair, and blue eyes. She was thin, athletic, and shapely. Not only was she the prettiest woman in any room she was in, she was also the most popular.
Starting with my days as the school jock, I was popular as well. With my dark hair and my tall (6’3”), large, and muscular build, I was well-liked by women throughout my life. But I only had eyes for Jennifer.
We were high school sweethearts, the prom king and queen, the sports star and the cheerleader. We were your prototypical all-American couple. We went to Ohio State together because we couldn’t stand to be apart for four years. We were married shortly after graduation when we were both just twenty-two years old. We had our whole lives ahead of us and neither one of us at that time could imagine living our life without the other.
However, as is typical of many marriages, we would have our rough patches. The economy plummeted in recent years, causing severe strain on both my company’s and our personal wealth. Financial distress is one of the most common causes of arguments within a household and we were no different. At the time of “The Murder” in 2009, we had been married for twelve years and we were having both marital and financial difficulties. I was sleeping every night on our living room couch or at my parents’ house a few miles away.
However, my feelings for Jennifer never waned. I loved her more than anything in the world and I always thought we would work things out. We were meant to be together and I knew there can be no better person in the world with whom to spend my life. Unfortunately, “The Murder” would not allow that to be my fate. “The Murder” took away my soul mate.
It also took away my home, my hometown, my company, my friends, and most of my financial resources. I lost a lot more than my beloved wife. Though still alive, I essentially lost my own life as well. I lost it all because of a horrific crime that I did not commit.
But, as my story will illustrate, the general public does not await the receipt of all facts and information before reaching their collective conclusions. Gossip, suspicions, and innuendos will result in society’s rush to judgment. The court of public opinion does not operate under the rules of evidence required in the criminal court system. Yet the court of public opinion can be equally as powerful in destroying lives. It certainly destroyed mine.
I often wondered how such injustice can occur in the United States of America, especially for someone like me who was surrounded by so many friends and long-time acquaintances in a town where my family went back generations. Certainly I would have a public support system made up of people who knew me well and knew I was incapable of such a heinous crime.
But I was wrong. The court of public opinion rules quickly and harshly and there is no recovery from the force of an immediate conviction among the public in which you live, even if you are innocent of the crime for which you are accused.
Maybe you are skeptical as to the powers of the court of public opinion. Or maybe you are skeptical of how such an injustice can occur in our civilized society. Or maybe you are simply curious as to what truly happened to my wonderful wife. If so, I encourage you to read the following story, which will detail the shocking events that unfolded in the previously quiet and peaceful town of Garrowville, Pennsylvania.
Chapter 1

Jennifer Stohler was awakened out of a deep sleep when she heard the screen door opening just beneath her second story bedroom window. Her room was just above the front door and overlooked the front yard as well as the whole cul-de-sac at the end of which was the Stohler residence. There were only five homes on the cul-de-sac, theirs being the middle one, and the only one still occupied. Once upon a time, the Stohlers had neighbors and a vibrant piece of paradise on their scenic block. But the economy hit hard and the four surrounding homes were foreclosed.
Jennifer opened her eyes just enough to see her digital clock illuminated on her nightstand. It was 2:35 a.m., which meant that she needed to get back to sleep. She had to be up early for what was to be an exciting day at the school where she taught. Just as she was drifting back to sleep, she heard keys jiggling in the front door’s keyhole. It must be Michael, she thought, but why was he getting home so late?
There had recently been some tension in their marriage, resulting in Michael often choosing to sleep at his parents’ house a few miles away. The tension also resulted in an increase in Michael’s drinking, which when times were tough, was his escape. His favorite pub, O’Leary’s, was just a couple of blocks away, so, occasionally, if he was too drunk to drive, he would walk back to the house and sleep on the couch downstairs in the living room.
But it was Thursday night, and on weeknights, the pub closed at 1 a.m. Even if Michael had stayed there until closing, it was still late for him to be getting home. Maybe he was more drunk than usual and it was a slow stagger back to the house. He seemed to be having some trouble with the key, so perhaps that was the answer.
Eventually the front door opened and Jennifer started drifting back to sleep. Michael would just collapse onto the downstairs couch and would likely be sound asleep when she would leave for work in a few hours.
A few moments later, in a half-asleep state, Jennifer thought she heard a faint noise on the steps. She listened carefully and was pretty sure she heard someone quietly ascending the stairs. Why would Michael come upstairs? He had toiletries in the downstairs bathroom and several changes of clothes in a closet next to the front door. It was arranged that way so that he would not have to come upstairs to get anything if he decided to come home for the night.
The footsteps also did not seem like the sounds of a large i