The Rise and Fall of Bentley’s Liquor Store

#theholdout #randomhouse #theprose.

George Bentley isn’t aware it’s his last day on earth, working in the liquor store he owns and he’s thoroughly enjoying life. He’s simply pricing merchandise at work and thinking about business. His tall, Abraham Lincoln stature and aging frame makes him appear like a scholar, There are a lot of folks who think well of blue eyed George and his soft spoken manner reflects a gentleman.

The wife, Mrs. Bentley, stops by the store an hour prior to the crime and speaks to her husband a bit. After his death, she testifies in court that things seemed to be in order on that day. In fact, her beloved spouse kissed her on the cheek and promised to be home, no later than 7 p.m.

“I’ll pick up some Kentucky Fried Chicken, hon.” He said, embracing her.

At 6:15 p.m., an hour prior to closing shop, Mr. Bentley watches his wife drive away in the Lincoln Continental and waves at her. It is a beautiful day and 68-year old Mildred looks forward to eating supper with her husband. She hopes they’ll catch a rerun of the Lawrence Welk Show later in the evening. One thing for sure, after fifty years of marriage, George and Millie love being together.

Good old George doesn’t make it home to Mildred though. A murderer has come into his store and killed him in cold blood. He dies at 70-years of age and his grieving wife is beside herself. Many of the residents of Dusty are shaken that a killer has robbed and murdered such a wonderful man.

The date is Tuesday, March 17 of 2017 and a George Milton Bentley, Sr. is gone forever. The one and only liquor store in town is torn down and small town Dusty, Arizona is forever changed.

CIRCUIT COURT, 2020

Defendant Grey McLeod isn’t well liked in Dusty, Arizona and being arrested only makes it worse. It’s been three years since George Bentley was killed and McLeod is charged and accused. He is either guilty or innocent of homicide and to be fair, his trial takes place in another city where no one knows him.

An assorted mix of 11-jurors sits in a private conference room in Phoenix and deliberate for three days to render a verdict. Ten of the jurors believe the man is guilty and one disagrees.

“Let’s wind this up and go home.” The jurors complain. If juror #7, Sarah Finks, would budge a little, the trial would be over and people could get on with their lives.

“I believe Grey McLeod is innocent though and I have to be honest.”

At 62-years of age, Sarah Finks, knows enough to see when an innocent man is being railroaded, simply because he doesn’t live up to status quo. A 35-year old man’s fate is being rained on and he doesn’t even own an umbrella.

As jurors, all seven woman and six men understand the severity of the offense: The accused may or may not have committed a homicide. What if McLeod did, in fact, enter Bentley’s Liquor Store on March 17th, rob and kill George?

“All the evidence proves that McLeod is guilty.” Juror #7, a well polished middle aged Southern man, born and raised in Alabama says. He explains that he moved to Phoenix a decade ago and hasn’t ever been to Dusty, Arizona. He’s says that he is simply a no nonsense postal worker, stuck in jury duty, and he hates it.

“Folks call me Raccoon,” He explains, as he shakes his head at Sarah Finks and scowls.

“Go ahead and think he’s innocent, Sarah. I cannot agree with you.”

Grey’s own words in trial were, “I’m glad someone killed the son-of-a-bitch but it wasn’t me.” To look at McLeod sitting in the courtroom is to see a defiant alcoholic and a homeless man.

“McLeod strongly resembles Charles Manson.” Raccoon remarks to the group.

Mr. Smutty quotes McLeod and thinks of his own father. Even now, at age-42, he hasn’t forgiven his dad for being a drunk all his life. He wonders if Grey’s defense team is aware of this and will use it to win points.

Shady Grey McLeod is an admitted people hater and he’d gladly tell the world. When prosecutor Sam Tiller asks him point blank if he killed George Bentley, he looks the man in the eye and laughs.

“How could I have killed George Bentley when I was miles away from the liquor store on that day? If truth be known, I was nursing a tall one and talking to myself. I have better conversations with me, myself, and I than anybody.”

“I’m sure Mr. McLeod is happy to know the camera in the store was destroyed.” Sam Tiller said on day one of the trial. Mr. Tiller has a track record for prosecuting cases and winning. At 50-years of age, he believes the accused should spend the rest of his life in prison.

Juror #7 scowls, tapping her fingers on the table and rolling her eyes. Red haired, Mrs. Martha is tired already and she’s also keeping a secret. She believes in capitol punishment and lied in the jury selection interview. She feels that no further explanations are needed, it being the evidence is quite clear. She’s heard more than enough to cast a guilty verdict. As a 47-year old housewife, she thinks of her children and wants McLeod electrocuted.

“McCloud killed Bentley for a free bottle of booze.” She fumes.

“It isn’t a crime to talk to yourself,” Grey says to his court appointed lawyer in private conference. With his one brown eye and other blue eye casing the room for a get away, he smirks at her.

“I was first in line for going nowhere when the men in blue hunted me down in the park. I was under arrest and I didn’t know who, what, or why. I was asked, “Did I understand my rights” by the “good” cop in the good cop\bad cop game and I cursed out loud.

“I told Johnny Law to go to hell.”

Convincing her fellow jurors to vote “not guilty” isn’t easy for Sarah to do. Where is the concrete evidence though? What has the prosecutor presented to the court that puts McLeod in the liquor store on that day? Grey’s fingerprints aren’t found anywhere in the store and there isn’t so much as a cigarette butt to test the DNA.

“One young man has sworn under oath that he’s witnessed arguments between McLeod and Bentley. Let’s face it though, ladies and gentlemen; this same young man admits these arguments occurred weeks before the crime.

McLeod wasn’t the only man to ever have words with Mr. Bentley.

“Maybe so but many witnesses saw McLeod in the area that day.” Juror #5 pipes up. Kimberly Stratton has her mind set on the defendants guilt and can’t be swayed.

“Grey’s lawyer, Becky Tipper, brought other witnesses to the stand as well,” Finks interrupts. “What about Bentley’s only son, 45-year old George, Jr.? Hasn’t the son testified that his father received threatening calls? Did he not tell the court that certain people in town wanted the liquor store forcefully shut down?”

Even though Sarah Finks is a short, petite woman with graying hair, she is not easily intimidated. She is well dressed in a gray pant suit today and she talks slowly. She asks Stratton, the librarian, if she likes the peace and quiet of her job. When Kimberly smiles and says she does, it’s all Finks needs to hear.

“Dusty, Arizona is a small retirement town,” Sarah cries out, “and it isn’t just McLeod who doesn’t fit in. Sadly, though George Bentley was a well liked man, the liquor store he owned wasn’t appreciated. Bentley loved the store though and adamently refused to even consider giving it up. Working was his hobby.

“The most revealing testimony I heard in trail come from Bentley’s son. George Bentley Jr. testified that, three days prior to his father’s death, he witnessed a heavy set man named Jackson Cody yelling at him. The man was full of hell, fire, and brimstone, shouting out that Dusty, Arizona is a well established, fine Christian place to live. Liquor stores don’t belong in the picture.”

Sarah cleared her throat, looking each juror in the eye and continued.

“Six years ago, Cody’s own daughter was killed by a drunk driver. She was only 17-years old and her death drove her father crazy. Mr. Cody said something else to Mr. Bentley on that day. He told George Bentley that he should be dead.”

This evidence was overlooked somehow, it being that Grey McLeod acted defiant in court and didn’t carry himself well. He admitted he disliked Bentley because he eyed him like he was a criminal when he came into the liquor store. Mr. Bentley didn’t care for Grey’s grizzly appearance and openly called him a bum.

At last, Finks finally convinces her fellow jurors there is a “reasonable doubt” that Grey McLeod killed George Bentley, Sr. Where was Jackson Cody on that day? Could it possibly be some of the residents of Dusty are self-righteous enough to protect and even encourage Bentley’s death? Maybe Grey McLeod was manipulated all along.

Bentley’s Liquor Store was originally opened in 1975, long before the town turned into a retirement community. After the area was fixed up and beautified, a lot of well established people moved to Dusty and turned it into a quiet little town. McLeod stood out like a sore thumb, it being he was so dirty looking and confused. He had lived in the town as a young boy and returned to his roots.

As it is, the jury found Grey McLeod “not guilty” of homicide and he was released. Word has it that he left the town of Dusty to find himself someplace else. The residents are more than happy that he’s not coming back around. After Bentley’s Liquor Store burned down, someone bought the property and turned it into a barber shop.

Jackson Cody was ultimately arrested for setting fire to the liquor store.

“How is Bentley’s wife doing these days?” Sarah Finks asked George, Jr. one day. She couldn’t stop herself from calling him a few years after the trial was over.

“You want to know about my mother?” George replied. “She died of a broken heart two years ago.”

“What about McLeod?” George asked, “I always believed he was innocent.”

“Funny you should ask,” Sarah replied, “Grey McCloud went into rehab and straightened his life out. He’s studying to become an ordained minister. It goes to show that we should never judge a book by it’s cover.”