I stand there, speechless, confusion blanketing my face. Staring back at me is someone I hadn't seen in years and who I thought I'd never see again – Bart Camden. This man nearly destroyed my marriage. He was a "private detective" (not really) who, the first time I met him, informed me that he had proof Brock was doing illegal things and that he was having an affair to cover it up. When I confronted Brock, he vehemently denied it. This was five years ago.
We had learned that Bart was in litigation with several other lawyers, Brock included, when he tried to blackmail high-profile lawyers, telling them he had dirt on them and would go to the media and their spouses if they didn't pony up obscene amounts of money. When some refused, including Brock, he found the spouses' contact info and called us.
At first, he sounded very convincing, said he had photos, video, and proof that the lawyers were doing either unethical, illegal, or immoral things and that he would take what he knew to the media if we didn't give him $250,000. He showed me his badge, gave me his card, and kept in touch with me. For several weeks, I was torn on who and what to believe.
"I know this is not what you wanted to hear, but I felt it was my duty to expose criminals where I see them," Bart had said.
"Look, I know my husband, and there's no way he would do anything illegal – he's a lawyer and knows the system. Plus, he's not that kind of man."
"Look, I get it. You want to believe him because he's your husband, but you can't always trust the ones you love."
That night, I confronted Brock, and he swore this guy was a grifter and had nothing on any of the lawyers. To prove it, he represented himself and the lawyers. When he was through with him, they didn't even go to trial; his case was so weak. The judge sentenced him to 15 years for blackmail, perjury, falsified identity, and extortion.
And here he was, standing at my door with a remorseful look. I can't believe the sleazy man with the receding black hairline, calico mustache that looks more red than brown, and almost painted-on, and green eyes that bore into you was free. Other than looking thinner, he has stayed the same. He's quite tall and at least 50 by now. But when I look at him, he gives off an air of being defeated – the once arrogant smile and tone are gone, and in its place is a broken man, his face a little gaunt.
"Hello, Patrice." I want to slam the door in his face, and when I go to put some space between him and me, he takes a step forward and holds his hands up. "Whoa, I'm not here to start trouble."
"Why are you free?" I fold my arms, waiting to hear what better be a damn good reason.
"I was let out for good behavior. I turned my life to God while in prison and it taught me about forgiveness and grace. I know what I did was cruel and wrong, and I'm so sorry. I was able to be let out, only if I came to each family I wronged and made amends and agreed to two years' probation. Don't worry, I'm not here alone; my parole officer is sitting in the car," he turns and points to a gray sedan parked on our curb. The man has his window rolled down and he waves.
"Anyway, is Brock here? I need to especially apologize to him."
'He is. Stay here." I close the door and rush to get Brock from the living room. The TV is loud, so I doubt he even heard us talking.
"Brock, you'll never guess who's here?" He turns the volume down and looks at me, then flips his palm up.
"Well? Who? I can't read your mind."
"Bart...Camden." That got his attention. He sprung up off the couch.
"What?"
"Yeah, he's out of prison for good behavior and here to make amends. His parole officer is sitting outside in the car. He seems humble." Brock stares at me as if I just said the craziest thing.
"Humble? I seriously doubt that."
"Brock, we need to hear him out. He really looks like he's changed."
"You know the saying that a tiger can't change his spots, well..."
"Come on. He's waiting out on the porch." Brock reluctantly follows me, and as I open the door, Bart can't look at him.
"Bart," Brock said with no emotion.
"Hi Brock. Can-can I please come in?" He shuffles his feet.
"Whatever." Bart walks through the door, and I invite him to sit in the chair while Brock and I sit on the couch. It's an awkward moment for all three of us.
"Thank you for letting me in, I know you didn't want to," Bart says.
"You're welcome," I say, trying to be polite but not too polite. After all, he did try and ruin our relationship.
"I'm sure Patrice told you that I'm out of prison on good behavior and while there, I found my way to Christ and have since repented of my sins; however, to feel truly forgiven, I need to ask for your forgiveness and all the others I hurt and wronged. I know what I did was stupid, mean, and criminal. Back then, I was in desperate times, but it still doesn't excuse what I did. I'm sorry for everything I put you two through. I am trying to do what's right so I can live a life full of purpose and joy, but I can't do that until I set things right." He sounds so genuine that a little tear slips from my eye. I wipe it away and Brock sees and gasps at me.
"You're crying? Trice, this man nearly destroyed our marriage and did destroy others' marriages. I'm sorry, but you put us through hell," he says looking squarely at Bart.
Bart looks down, his shoulders sagging.
"I know, and I will never live that down. I made some bad mistakes, and I went to prison for them," Brock says under his breath.
"Brock, he did time and is out because he made amends and sought out God. Give him a chance." I'm always taught about second chances and forgiveness. If Christ could die on the cross for all our sins, then we need to forgive others who have wronged us so they can move forward. Holding grudges just punishes us, not the ones who harmed us. I remember one day my father told me, "If we don't learn to forgive and we hold grudges, we give our power away. Then we become victims and they become victors." I will never forget that.
"I do appreciate you coming to apologize and ask for forgiveness, but I can't just forgive and forget. It's not that easy." Brock glances at me as if I should know better.
"I understand. I don't expect you to forget – I'm just asking that someday you can forgive me. I'm only here to apologize for what I did. I'm on probation, and for a few months, I will be volunteering my time in the city. It's the least I can do." He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees. I see them shaking slightly. He's nervous, and it shows.
"Thank you, Bart, for gathering up the courage to come and see us. I'm sure that was tough to do," I say.
He nods and stands up. "I don't want to take more of your time than is necessary, so I will go now. Just know that I have learned my lesson, and I will be helping the police with a few cases they are struggling with. I figured the least I could do is lend my skills of hacking and such to hopefully catch some criminals." I wonder if he knows about Troy and all that stuff or if he's strictly helping with petty crimes. I decide not to pursue it.
I stand up and follow him to the door while Brock doesn't move, lost in thought. I know it will take him a while before he can forgive Bart.
"Thanks again, Bart. It's been a tough year, and it's nice when someone can apologize when they've done something wrong, and justice can be served." As if he can tell something is bothering me, he stops at the door and turns around.
"I heard about Troy and everything that has happened, and I just can't believe it. Troy and I used to be friends, and even though he did some shitty things, look who's talking, I know he loved his kids. And Goldie was also my first-grade teacher in the '90s. When I found out she was murdered, it shocked me. I hope Chief can solve this case." I'm surprised he knows so much, but then it's been in the news for months, and I have no clue how long he's been out of prison.
"Yeah, it's been a very hard year, and there are still two co-conspirators who haven't been caught. We've been threatened, and well, the person who put the hit on Troy tried to kill us. Believe me, I'm trying hard to solve Goldie's murder. She's the one who told me about Troy's killer." I stop and wonder why I'm spilling this to him.
"Man, I can't believe that happened to you, and to Goldie. Listen," he says, stroking his chin. "Let me help. And before you say no, hear me out." I'm not quite sure what to say, for some reason, my gut tells me to listen. "I've developed some, uh, skills in actual investigating. Give me a week and let me see what I can come up with. I have some connections who can do some digging. It's the least I can do." I look over my shoulder to see if Brock is around or even listening, but the TV is on, and he's still on the couch. I know Brock would vehemently disallow Bart to do investigating on Goldie's death, but I owe it to her to solve her murder.
"Is it anything illegal? "Haha, no. I learned my lesson. I just know some people who are real investigators who could look into the case and do some research on these two people still missing. Do you have their names?"
"I only know their first names: Greg and Petra. I do know they are Grantsville citizens, but I have no idea if they are still here, though." Bart scrunches his eyebrows.
"Okay, no problem. It may be a little more difficult to find them, but I'll do what I can." His face changes, and he looks anxious. "I better go." He rushes out just as Brock joins me at the door.
"What were you two talking about?" "Not much. He knows about Goldie, said she was his teacher as well, so we talked about our memories of her." I hate lying to Brock, but the last thing I need is to have him upset with me, allowing him to use his connections to investigate her murder.
"I don't trust him," Brock said, staring at him as he gets in the car.
"He did his time, and he apologized. What more do you want?" "I don't know. I just don't buy his whole remorse spiel." Just hearing him say this tells me I was right to not say anything about what we really talked about.
"I know, but I think we should give him a chance. I think he's sincere. He wants to atone for what he did." Brock doesn't say anything, and I don't push him. And yes, I have my doubts too, but if he can help find Goldie's killer, this whole nightmare can finally be over.
We all need a break.
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