Ott' Tribulation - A Legal Thriller
William J. Warner
A Marquis Who's Who Biographee
Prosecuting attorney, Margaret Jordan, is hell-bent on running seventeen-year-old Maxx Ott through the justice system for the murder of two boys his age. Problematic for her is the fact there is betrayal in her blood that could prove ruinous to her career with dire consequences for the defendant, Maxx, who is hopelessly in love with her daughter - a fact Margaret cares not to disclose.
Maxx Ott tells his own story, the story of his youth, his perilous association with Cooper Gibbons and his love for the girl, Anna, who comes between them. Youthful indiscretions told in vivid detail give way to felonious mischief when Cooper involves Maxx in a hunting foray that turns horribly wrong. Maxx's tie to Cooper gets wretchedly worse, leading him into a courtroom drams with an aged, but sly attorney and his legal team who pull out all the stops in their efforts to free him from further incarceration.
Maxx Ott - I sat up on the edge of my bunk, hoping time would soon wash away my bitterness. Everyone in this joint, this place they called the MCC, was a contrite sinner to me. The thought of getting convicted, being sent off to a place worse yet, paralyzed me. Mansfield, they said, is rheumy and damp, and the coldness of winter was fast approaching.
Anna Jordan - She was a looker, big time. A lithe blond, supple and graceful, Annabelle Jordan was her name, but only her parents called her Annabelle. To everyone else, she was simply Anna...I was hoping Anna would sit facing me so I could see what she had on. She did, and she knew how to wear a skirt. I was always amazed that parents allowed their girls to wear things so short. Not that I was complaining.
Cooper Gibbons - Coop was a colorless character with a scattering of teenage zits about his cheeks, a make believe charmer when, in fact, he was a closet hooligan with secretive acts of michief only a few of us kids knew about- the wrong side of his personality. To some, he was a jerk; to others, he was cool. Always in need of a haircut, he frequently tossed his straw-colored hair left and right of his brows appearing much like an unmade bed.
Other titles by William J. Warner
Going Knee to Knee with FBI Polygraph
Holdup Number Six
Jewels in the Sand
Gold Line to Lenox