Finally, the day was done and after the judge had given jury instructions and they had exited for deliberation, Blake spent a few moments expressing hope and encouragement to his client. She would be taken back to jail until the jury had reached a verdict and he would not see her again until then.
By 7:00 p.m. that evening, he had received word that the jury had reached a verdict. They would reconvene the next morning at 9:00 a.m. for the reading of the verdict and sentencing.
Chapter Eleven
The tension was high in the court as the jury filed in to read their verdict. Blake’s hands were sweating, and he was exercising extreme discipline to remain externally calm.
His client sat rigidly still beside him while his assistant Mandy sat on the row directly behind him. She usually left after helping prep for court, but today she wanted to be there for moral and emotional support should the verdict return unfavorable.
“All rise,” the bailiff boomed.
The judge took his seat at the bench and rapped his gavel. He asked the defendant to rise and then requested the jury foreman to read the verdict. Blake felt his client slip her small thin hand into his. He did not pull away but gave it a gentle squeeze.
She was found guilty as they knew she would be; however, by the end of court, the judge had ruled that she be admitted to the facility that Blake had recommended, but added specific stipulations and specifications which the judge hoped would ensure the greatest success for her rehabilitation.
The relief that Blake, his client, and Mandy felt was undeniably overwhelming. The judge had stated that she be checked into the treatment facility by five p.m. that day. In the meantime, she had been relinquished to Blake’s custody. Should she not arrive by said time, a warrant for her arrest would be issued and she would be incarcerated in the state prison.
For the first time, Blake saw a broad smile spread across his client’s face. It was just about lunchtime, so he suggested that they all three go to lunch.
During lunch, they all felt free to laugh and enjoy the relief of the sentencing. Near the end of the meal, Blake looked seriously at his client and talked with her about the severity of the bullet she had just dodged, but more importantly the new opportunity that had been provided to her. As compassionately as he possibly could, he wanted to be stern about the seriousness of what was at stake here.
She nodded and listened intently. He believed she had every intention of giving this her full effort. But Blake knew there were so many factors that would determine her long-term success. No matter how much resolve his client had, if certain lifestyle changes weren’t made, then success would be short lived.
He spoke to his client of an organization that helped women just like her transition from the treatment facility back into a better life. They offered an education, housing, and opportunities to volunteer in various other charities across the city. They’d had great success, and he was hopeful for his client.
After lunch, they made sure she had everything she would need at the treatment facility. The clothes he had bought her for court were not the kind of clothes that would be casual and comfortable for everyday. He knew of a charitable closet where they could take her and allow her to pick out several things she needed. They took her by her old apartment as well.
Mandy went inside with her and helped her collect the most important items. She got toiletries, a few additional clothing items, and photos and mementos. They had agreed she would not return to this apartment after treatment. A new life truly meant a new life. The more difficulty the old crew had finding her, the better.
A letter would be written tomorrow by Blake to the apartment complex, once his client was safely in the treatment facility, stating the situation and that they could re-lease the apartment.
The rest of the day flew by and before they knew it, it was time to say goodbye. Blake and Mandy stood and waved goodbye to their client as she entered the facility, exiting her old life and entering what they hoped was a fresh new beginning.
As they turned to walk to the car, Mandy said, “This one turned out well.”
“Yes, it did,” said Blake.
“They don’t always,” she said.
“No, so many rarely do.”
~~~
On the way back from the treatment facility, Blake felt happy and realized that the one person he wanted to share it with was Senna. He dialed her home phone, and she answered on the second ring.
Senna happily listened as Blake shared his day with her. He was so excited about the outcome of the trial that he had been working on for the past week. She loved it that he cared so much for his clients and loved helping them change their lives for the better.
Blake and Senna had gone on three dates total. The last week, Blake had been absorbed in this last case and it had limited their time together. Senna’s concerns that Blake would be like her father faded a little more every day. Blake was nothing like her father.
Being kind to her was one thing, but Blake was kind to everyone. She saw genuine concern for each client he had. He didn’t just want to win the case; he wanted to achieve an outcome that would benefit his clients in a profound and lasting way. This alone endeared her heart to Blake.
“I want to take you out to dinner tonight,” said Blake.
“Well, I don’t know how much I’ll eat. Andrea and I ate until we were stuffed on that new pizza from Razorback Corner. We’ve had it twice this week. It’s great for a glorified convenience store.”
“I ate a pretty hefty lunch, too. Mandy and I took our client out for a victory lunch. How about I pick us up a couple of salads and we take them to the park and eat?” asked Blake.
That sounded good to Senna, so they hung up after planning on Blake picking up Senna at her house at seven o’clock.
Senna went to her closet full of new clothes and picked out a pair of white pants and a pink top. Then, thinking the white pants would not be good for a picnic, she put them back. Remembering the navy capris, she found and pulled them out. Yes, she thought. Those will look very nice together.
Andrea had helped her a few times try to find a good balance between her natural good looks and makeup, but Senna still felt somewhat uncomfortable when putting it on. Because of this she usually stuck to a slight bit of pink blush and lip gloss.
She had found, though, that she had a love for shoes. Who knew that had been hiding in her all along? She laughed to herself as she slipped on the sandals she had bought just for that pink top. They were the same soft pink with floppy leather flowers all across the front strap.
A few strokes with the brush through her hair and she thought she was ready. She was excited to see Blake. Smiling, she remembered the night of their first date when she had paced a path on her living room carpet waiting for him. Butterflies were still a given, but not the anxious knot that she’d had then.
Blake soon came and they found a great shaded spot by the fountain at the park. He’d even thought to bring a big quilt to lay down. As they ate, Blake continued to remember and tell her things about the trial and his client. He expressed his hope she could stay on a positive path.
Blake’s face reflected the excitement he felt and Senna quickly became caught up in that excitement. His hair was flying in the wind but he didn’t even notice as he spoke with passion. Nothing as exciting as that ever happened at the library.
Soon the salads were gone, and the wind in Blake’s sails seemed to have settled. They were sitting facing each other on the quilt and Blake had Senna’s hands in his, playfully toying with her soft fingers. He could smell her soft scent and he took her in, lingering on her eyes.
“You’ve changed so much since the first day I met you,” said Blake as he studied her vivid blue eyes.
Small dollops of sunlight danced through the leaves and onto the quilt. Rather than look at Blake, Senna looked down and watched them dance. She had tensed slightly at his words.
Looking back up at Blake, his smile soothed her. “I know I’ve chan
ged. Andrea has been so wonderful to me, such an amazing friend. And you, you’ve helped me to feel comfortable with me,” she chuckled as she thought how funny that sounded.
Then her brow creased. “There is something I want to talk to you about,” she said.
“Sure. You know you can talk to me about anything.”
Senna looked down at their intertwined fingers. “Andrea has suggested that I talk to a professional counselor.” She looked up to see what Blake’s reaction would be.
“Why does she think you should do that?” asked Blake with concern on his face.
Senna looked away and her face pinched in thought as she tried to organize her thoughts. “Things have definitely changed for the better with me. But some things seem to be worse,” she said. She was trying to explain to Blake what she had a hard time sorting out on her own.
“I used to just accept what my father and mother had said and done as gospel, something that was correct and right and necessary. Something that had been in my best interest for me and that they had done for me out of their love for me.
“The more I see how much more there is to life and I see what was kept from me growing up, I have begun to feel angry. I am not talking about the material things that were kept from me, even though there was a lot of that, but emotional things. Love, happiness, joy...” her voice trailed off.
“I lived my life—afraid all the time I was not going to measure up by Father’s standards. I tamped down personal desires, hopes, and dreams in an effort to conform to his standards. I think I became so successful at pushing down emotions that I only felt numb.
“Now it is as if stepping out and beginning to feel again has unleashed not only great emotions like happiness but also anger. It catches me off guard and I don’t know how to respond.
“The other day I was opening a jar, and it slipped and splattered everywhere. I felt outraged! Not just frustrated, or a little upset, but outraged. Blake, it scares me.”
She had finally said all she could think to say. Blake sat and lovingly looked at her for several moments before speaking. “I think what you are going through is a natural reaction to what you have had to deal with. You’ve never learned how to handle various emotions. I think Andrea may be right, I think you need someone trained to help you navigate through this.
“You have already changed so much for the better. I can only imagine that with just a little help you can change and grow even more.” Blake smiled and leaned in to kiss her.
It was at that moment he realized he had fallen in love with her. All at once, a surging need to comfort, protect, and give himself to her in whatever way she need overtook him. He was careful to not let her see it though. He could see she was in no emotional place to reciprocate those feelings. And with the wounds she carried and the healing that must take place, it would be awhile before she was whole enough for that.
Senna searched Blake’s face and knew she wanted to love him. She felt so safe and comforted when she was with him. But until she could reconcile the tide of emotions within her, she knew it was not possible. It wasn’t fair to him either. He deserved to be loved fully, without reserve.
“I feel so broken,” she said. Her words were soft and frail. “I feel ashamed that I am this way, that I am not stronger.”
“But you are stronger than you think. You have courageously made great strides to change and break free and you have done so amazingly. It is not your fault you must break free of all this. It was something done to you, not something you chose.
“And just remember when you start to feel angry at your parents, they were human, too. I heard someone say once that hurting people hurt people. I don’t know what your father experienced, but you have to know that he had been hurt and damaged himself at some point. He must have been far more broken than you for him to have treated you and your mother the way he did.”
Blake took a breath and continued, “You have to forgive him Senna. Un-forgiveness is poison. It will eat your insides out, but never touch its target. For your own sake Senna, forgive.” His eyes were soft, yet pleading.
“I-I want to. I just don’t know how to,” said Senna.
Blake had a thought he’d had several times, but had held off asking her. He didn’t know when it would be the right time, but maybe now was.
“Senna would you consider going to church with me on Sunday?” He held his breath. Would this push her away from him?
After a brief moment she started shaking her head. “No, no I can’t do that. I’ve had enough church to last a lifetime!”
“I understand,” said Blake visibly disappointed.
Senna realized what she had done. She’d pushed him away without meaning to at all. “Well, I will think about it.”
Blake smiled and leaned in to kiss her once more. He wanted to lay her down on that quilt right then and there and make love to her, but the immense amount of respect he had for her quickly pushed that urge aside. Someday she will be my wife, he thought. I know she will. I hope she will.
Chapter Twelve
Carrie had another hangover. The sun coming in from her bedroom window felt like stabbing daggers through her head. She groaned and rolled over.
She’d gone back to the Darkside again. Something kept drawing her there. But each time she found herself less and less able to gather her wits about her to pull herself together the next day for work.
I need a vacation, she thought. I need a full week of nothing I have to do and nowhere I have to be.
Her mouth was dry, and she wished she had the energy to get up and brush her teeth. But she didn’t and soon drifted back off to sleep.
Ninety minutes later, an annoying buzzing sound penetrated her hazy sleep. At first, it was faint and only a slight intrusion into her dream. It increased to the point she couldn’t avoid it and she found herself fully awake.
She reached for her cell phone and looked at the screen. It was Randy. Oh, my goodness! What time was it? Nine in the morning. Oh crap! She scrambled out of bed and threw on some wrinkled clothes she found on the floor. Snapped on her badge and gun, which she had failed to lock away in the safe, and headed out the door.
As soon as she started her car and was pulling out of her driveway, she called Randy.
“Where in the hell are you?” he asked.
“I’m on my way. I overslept. I don’t feel too well this morning.” She immediately wished she hadn’t said that. He was always on her about her drinking. She knew saying ‘not feeling well’ would be translated as ‘hangover’ by Randy. She had brushed her teeth, gargled with mouthwash, and was now cramming gum in her mouth. Would it be enough?
“I’ll be there in twenty,” she was able to add before Randy could start his lecture on the evils of the lifestyle that she was living. In her opinion, though, he didn’t have much room to talk. After all, if Sandy wanted a divorce, how good of a husband could he be?
Soon, she was pulling into her parking spot and locking her car door. Her reflection peering back at her from her car door window looked a little rough. She did a quick finger comb of her unruly curls and thought, good enough.
Randy was waiting on her just inside the door. “You stink,” he said. “You didn’t shower did you?”
“Are you going to start with me again?” She hadn’t showered since she was so late but the stink she knew Randy was referring to wasn’t body odor, but ketoacidosis from having drank so much in such a short period of time. She had smelled it on her uncle many times, it was unmistakable. If Randy smelled that, then she’d crossed a line last night that she tried very hard never to cross.
“I’m sorry. I’ll go to the locker room and shower,” she said. She kept a change of clothes and toiletries in her locker. With this job you never knew how long you would be out.
In less than thirty minutes, Carrie was showered and dressed. She felt better and wished she had taken the time to have done that at home. She avoided eye contract with Randy as she came to get him to leave.
&
nbsp; “I’m ready. Where are we going?”
“The coroner has matched four of the five bodies with dental records of the missing persons. In other words, we know for sure four of the five unknown victims. We need to go visit the next of kin,” said Randy.
Carrie felt ashamed that she had almost showed up in the shape she had been in to victims' homes. How disrespectful. She had to get herself together.
Randy and Carrie rode in silence to the first victim’s home. Randy stopped a block away in a convenience store parking lot and put the car in park. “Since we didn’t have a chance to go over details of the victims this morning, I'll brief you on this one.
“Ken Burns, male, five feet nine inches tall. Dark hair, green eyes, worked as a bank teller. Lived at home with his mother. She is the next of kin that we need to notify.”
A lump rose in Carrie’s throat. She did not feel up to this today. “We’d better go,” she said.
No one answered the knock on the door. In reading the file they read a note that Ken’s mother worked as a teacher. She wouldn’t be home until after three. Randy put that file on the bottom of the stack and they looked to find one that might be available during the day.
When they reviewed David Brasher’s file, they saw he was married with two small children. Wife Cindy and he were in the final stages of a divorce.
“Oh boy,” sighed Randy. “I hate doing these.”
As expected, Cindy did not take the news well. Even though she and David were getting a divorce, she still loved him, and he was the father of her children.
Randy and Carrie gave Cindy time to take a breath and let the news soak in. “Mrs. Brasher, we have to ask you some questions in order to find out who did this to David. Are you up for that right now?” asked Randy.
Cindy nodded her head in agreement. She sat dabbing her tears with a twisted up tissue. She was quite attractive but her yoga pants were not as flattering as something else might have been.
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