This chapter is dedicated to arc330. Thank you for your loyalty, your many comments and pushing that little star at the end of each chapter :)
16 - Star Witness
"Well, this explains how you met Kade Fallon." Doc slides a can of Coke in my direction and I am thankful. The talking has made my throat dry.
I take a few swallows. "I think he was the only person I ever entrusted with the truth. Even later, he was closer to me than anyone."
He narrows his eyes. "Do you think he had a crush on you?"
I shake my head. "He never made a pass or gave me any indication he was interested in me that way. I think I reminded him of his sister and it raised some kind of protector instinct in him. Besides, he was way too old for me."
"But you two became close after you were released from the hospital?"
"Yes. He was the one I called when I was desperate. He always had an open ear, gave me advice if I wanted to or not. Sometimes, I followed it but more often I didn't. With time, we became friends and I started to rely on him more and more."
Doc's smile is mild. "You do realize that he is the star witness against you in this case?"
How could I ever forget? In the end, he betrayed me big time. "Sure, doc. I read his statement."
"How does this make you feel?"
Like I have no one left in this world besides my dad who can't comprehend what I did. "He told the police the truth. I would have never expected him to lie so I guess I'm OK with that."
"No hard feelings against him at all?"
I hated Kade Fallon. He abandoned me when I needed him the most just like everyone else. I would likely not even be here if it wasn't for him.
"Not at all," I grin, keeping the tone of my voice even. My lawyer was very clear not to show any animosity against the prosecution's main witness to anyone.
"Well, that's very admirable," doc admits. "If my friend got me in so much trouble, I would be furious."
I gaze at him blankly, not wanting to admit how much I agreed with his words. My fingers drum lightly on the table but otherwise I am proud to have full control of myself. Deep down, I'm raging. The DA was going to offer me manslaughter in juvenile detention but after Kade opened up his big mouth, the charge jumped straight to aggregated 1st degree murder in adult court.
He squints at me. "So why did you call him the night of the murder?"
Good question. I needed a friend, someone to help me to break free. I couldn't do it on my own but Kade turned his back on me. When he refused to listen, he only left me with one option. I really had no other choice.
"I'm not sure, doc. Maybe I had hoped he would react differently and show his support."
"Well, you weren't on the best of terms at the time," doc points out.
No, we weren't and Kade had any right to be angry. After all, Brent almost destroyed his career and I landed him in jail. But I was frantic, begging for his help and all he did was reject me.
"Truthfully, doc, I don't really want to talk about Kade. My lawyer said that he is not relevant to your assessment."
That was really bending the truth but hopefully would get him off this touchy topic but just as usual, he is stubborn. "Oh, I believe your phone calls to him are very relevant to your state of mind at the time of the act."
Of course he would say that. I just keep glaring at him, waiting for his next question.
He glances at his watch. "It's already nine o'clock. Do you want to call it a night and continue in the morning?"
What I want is being left alone. "That's fine, doc. I am sure Mitch and your wife are already waiting for you. What's her name anyways?"
Knowing that he doesn't like to talk about his personal life, it is meant as a provocation but he keeps his cool and ignores the question. He motions to the guards behind the mirror.
I am led out of the interrogation room. Now comes the part I despise the most – the search. It is the ultimate form of humiliation to be stripped down and have every part of your body examined to ensure that your visitor didn't give you any contraband. Since the good doctor was appointed by the court and in an official capacity at the jail, they at least refrain from me having to bend over and only ask me to open my mouth.
My cell is six by eight feet with a bunk, enclosed by a brick wall with a solid door that slams behind me as soon as I step through it. I cringe when the keys are turned, still not used to the sound that makes me realize every time that I have lost my freedom.
Hot tears begin to fall like each night when I lie down on my bed and cuddle up with the blanket. I have never felt more alone. The silence is depressing, I can't even hear any noise from the outside. I don't know if it is raining or stormy, hot or cold. It is early August and Caroline and the others are out of school, probably going to the mall or the pool every single day, having fun.
They have normal lives just like any other ordinary teenager, excited to start their senior year in a few weeks and going off to college after that. Their petty worries seem nothing in comparison to mine. If this interview with the Dr. Sullivan doesn't go well, I could be on death row at Dwight Correctional Center by Christmas.
If I had killed Brent just half a year earlier, there would only be the worry of lifelong incarceration. The death penalty had been abolished in 2011 in Illinois but was reinstated just five months before the murder. I was screwed, potentially being the first female defendant facing death by lethal injection since the new law came into effect.
Juveniles have always been tried as adults for serious crimes in Cook County but my lawyer still filed a petition to have me transferred back to kiddy court. Doc showed up this morning, informing me that the judge wanted him to prepare an evaluation if my application should be granted or not. The stakes are high but I am still not on my best behavior. He gets under my skin and I can't help it. He is so annoying with his questions, digging in the depth of my soul, bringing up painful memories that I have tried so hard to forget.
I take out his card he handed to me when he first arrived – Nathan P. Sullivan, PhD. I wonder where he went to school, what his home looks like and his wife and kid. He appears content, he is probably a good husband and father who loves his family with no conditions attached. He would never abandon them.
Everything will depend on him, he could make the difference between a prison term until I am twenty one or death or at least longtime incarceration. Why is it still so hard to open up to him? Why don't I just tell him my motives and hold fingers crossed he will understand?
I close my eyes, totally exhausted but Brent's dead face immediately appears in front of me, causing me to sit up in a startle. He still scares me. I sob in desperation, his abuse will never end. He is mocking me, telling me that soon, we will be reunited in death and he will continue to torment me in hell. After all, where else would I go? I took a human life so there is no space for me in heaven and I never believed in some intermediary level like purgatory. But even if they don't kill me off by legal homicide, I will never be free. I will be in Brent's clutches forever, he will always haunt me in my dreams. Happy endings do not exist – at least not for someone like me.
xxxx
Nate's POV
I drive through the night, replaying the interview I had with Rena Cooper. I have rarely met an inmate more hostile, usually they try to win me over so I give a positive report to the judge. Oh - but not her. Smug and irritating, challenging in any way even remotely possible, she seems totally oblivious to the situation is in. If she is tried as an adult for aggregated murder, she is likely going to be convicted of the death penalty. I have been trying to help her but she doesn't make it exactly easy and I know me well enough to realize that I'm slowly losing my patience. She is just plain annoying with those stubborn eyes and her caginess.
I know a lot about Battered Women Syndrome, worked many cases and have seen abuse even worse than Rena's but most defendants still don't take it to the extreme and kill the guy. Self-justice is something most people shy away from and something traumatic must have happened to trigger such a desperate act.
The odds are against her if she doesn't cooperate, especially since her lawyer is a total waste of space and likely not able to properly represent her. He is nothing like Pam Fallon, Kade's mother who is a topnotch defense attorney and could probably get Rena off but since she is representing Kade on his own criminal charge, there is a conflict of interest. Not that she would have volunteered anyways after what Rena did to her son. I am a father myself and would protect Mitch against those types of vicious allegations with everything I got.
Of course what both Kade and Pam don't realize is the pressure Rena was under and the influence Brent Parks had over her. He made her the way she is today, this young woman that seems heartless and conceited, easily capable of coldblooded murder. From everything I learned so far, I suspect her to be a scared little girl underneath the hard surface but she just doesn't give me much to work with. She holds back, refusing to fess up what made her snap the night of the murder. And without it, I will have to send her to her doom.
I pull up into my driveway and cut the engine. For a moment, I just sit there, rubbing my eyes. I am tired and my stomach is grumbling, I hardly ate anything. I don't even like Pizza but didn't know what else to suggest to Rena. Her eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas morning and I had hoped the treat would soften her. Big mistake. She was just as arrogant as before, even prying into my personal life. That made me real uncomfortable, she should have realized I'm not the one on trial.
OK, a few times she lost it and showed some humanity and even mustered up a few sincere tears but her body language and indifferent eyes still gave her the constant appearance of an ice princess. I probably will have to accept that there is a good chance that Brent broke her to pieces and she will never trust me enough to open up, after all, her descriptions of the abuse were quite graphic and gruesome.
I finally force myself to get out of the car and stroll into the house. Marie is still awake, watching NCIS on the television.
"Hey babe, how was your day?" she asks in her melodic voice. "You look tired."
I fall into the seat next to her, totally exhausted. "Rough."
She knows I'm not allowed to talk about my cases and doesn't probe. "Are you hungry?"
"No." I lie, not wanting to impose on her to cook that late. "I ate something at the jail."
She gives me a wide grin and her attention focuses back on the show. I study her, still not believing how lucky I am. She was my high school sweetheart and around the same age when we started dating as Rena was when she met Brent. We got married as soon as she graduated high school so that she could join me on the military base when I was stationed overseas in Germany. She stuck it out in a foreign country without her family or close friends, never complaining once. Despite the odds that couples face who tie the knot that early, our marriage has remained strong over the past fourteen years.
After I left the army, she worked two jobs to put me through college, always putting my needs first. When it was finally her turn to do something with her life, she got pregnant with Mitch. Since then, she has been a devoted mother and housewife but I still feel sometimes guilty that she couldn't go to college to become an engineer like she always wanted.
I stroke her belly. "How has my little girl been acting?"
She chuckles. "Acting up is more like it. She has been kicking around all day. I have not gotten a minute worth of rest with a constant urge to use the bathroom and your son was very active on top of that. He discovered the finger paints in the closet and half his walls are now covered by his art. He seems to like it but I am not sure if he will turn into the next Picasso."
God, how can any mother be that patient? Most women would hit the roof if their child had ruined the wallpaper but not Marie. There is nothing that can throw her off track, neither Mitch shrieking on top of his lungs while having a tantrum nor hundreds of shoppers in a mall pushing her around while hauling bags of baby equipment from store to store. I sometimes wished I had nerves of steel like her.
I decide to call it a night. Tomorrow will be another long day of wrestling with Rena and all I can hope for is that she will be getting her act together and starting to trust me. If not, there is nothing I can do for her. I haven't realized that the answers to my questions are right at my fingertips when I take my wife in my arms and kiss her goodnight.
OK, now that you have learned about Doc's POV, do you have a more esteemed opinion about him or still dislike him as many of you commented in earlier chapters? As you could read, he has a somewhat different impression about Rena than many of us (I guess sitting across from someone trying to make them cooperate is a whole different ball game).
How do you like how the story develops? Do you like to hear more from Doc? How do you think he should handle Rena to finally open up to him or do you think she is lost for good?
As usual, I would love to hear from you and please don't forget that a vote goes a long way.