She met with her former professors and most of the judges she respected to discuss her concerns. And when challenged with what would work better than the current system, Sharon couldn’t come up with the perfect system.
It was at that point she realized that the only real solution was to level the playing field by creating a stronger adversary on the defense side.
Sharon became a formidable defense attorney and over the years built one of the most successful firms in the City.
With that success, as her competent staff took on most of the caseload, Sharon decided to buy a vacation home in the spectacular coast-side town of Carmel, two hours to the south. Not surprisingly, the workaholic Sharon was unable to just relax with long walks on the beach, hikes in Big Sur, or luxurious dinners in the fine restaurants. The law was her first love and leisure just wasn’t a part of her life. So, in her ‘spare’ time, she found herself sitting in as a spectator in criminal trials in the area.
Sharon soon discovered that because of major budget issues, the smaller surrounding counties could not afford their own in-house public defenders. Instead, they retained outside attorneys or small firms to provide criminal defense to the indigent. The problems she’d seen in the City were magnified ten-fold in the more rural parts of the state. The prosecutors steamrolled indigent clients and from what she could see, innocent people went to prison, and many who had relatively minor transgressions received unreasonable sentences. It was obvious that there was a real need for better defense attorneys and these small firms just weren’t up to it.
So, much as she had done in San Francisco, Sharon opened small local law practices and began bidding for public defender contracts.
Ten years later, she had built a small empire of public defender offices. Not only was this lucrative for her business, but because she could apply the best attorneys to each case, criminal matters were resolved much more quickly, offering significant cost savings to the counties.
Sharon now employed over two hundred top defense attorneys along with even more paralegals and interns. She kept her caseload light, usually just sitting in as second chair with newer attorneys or on cases that interested her. Her administrative duties overseeing multiple offices took far too much of her time and as she thought about it, she had to admit, she missed fighting for the underdog.
And then, just she was thinking of making some sort of change in her career, she got a call from Mark Johansen.
She and Mark had been best buddies in high school and during their first few years of college. He had come to her high school in Cupertino during their sophomore year. His father had relocated to the Silicon Valley after retiring from the military. She quickly recognized Mark’s exceptional intelligence in their shared advanced math and science classes, but was surprised that he more than held his own in literature and language classes – her areas of strength.
She invited him to a bridge party with several others of the school’s intellectual clique and he fit right in. The diversity of his military brat life seemed to have prepared Mark to get along with almost anyone. He quickly became an integral part of their ongoing political and social debates. But somehow, he always seemed to hold back. For him, the discussions were intellectual exercises. Sharon pushed Mark to find some passion, but never really succeeded.
They had a brief fling in college, but realized that they really were better best friends than lovers. As grad school approached, they began to drift apart and later, with marriages and careers, their once-close friendship turned into regular social media contacts and postings where they could keep up on the superficial aspects of each other’s lives.
Mark’s postings had disappeared a few years before. Apparently this was during his divorce. Unlike many of her ‘friends’, Mark didn’t share his pain with the world on the internet.
Sharon had tried to contact him several times outside of social media, but had no luck. She had heard through the grapevine that Mark had fallen on difficult times. Ultimately, her own time constraints prevented her from digging deeper.
And then, Mark called.
It was three in the morning when her phone buzzed. Usually she ignored these middle-of-the-night calls, but something told her to pick up. Mark had been arrested for the murder of his wife and possibly two other women. He briefly explained that he was being treated for schizophrenia and that it was going well enough for him to resume his duties as CEO of Johatchen Software.
Mark was a bit shaky on whether he had committed the crimes. As a rule of thumb, Sharon never asked a client about their guilt. But Mark volunteered that he’d been having memory lapses lately and that he couldn’t say with certainty that he hadn’t killed Janice.
With little more to go on, in the arraignment later that morning, Sharon didn’t hesitate when the judge asked for a plea. Mark pleaded not guilty and he pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity. This was in response to a long list of charges that revolved around the murder of his ex-wife, Janice Livingston. The DA referred to the evidence found at Mark’s home and at this point, there wasn’t much to argue about. Sharon didn’t bother to ask for bail, even as a formality since she knew it wasn’t even a remote possibility.
She had to admit that she was excited by the prospect of representing Mark. She’d read about the series of murders and found it fascinating that Mark would be charged as a serial murderer. Could Mark have changed that much? Could he have gone so far off the deep end that he murdered three women and then didn’t have any recollection of what he’d done?
Over the course of her career, she’d often been surprised by the actions of people she thought she knew. But Mark? No. He had been her best friend for years. She knew him better than anyone else. It just wasn’t possible that he’d changed that much. Was it?
Her thoughts were interrupted as the deputies led Mark into the room. He was shackled hand and foot. In spite of what must have been a sleepless night, he looked alert and smiled warmly at Sharon.
“Could we take the shackles off?”
The two deputies looked at each other. One turned to Sharon and asked, “Are you sure? This guy murdered three women.”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Sharon watched as they removed the shackles and pressed Mark into a chair facing her.
“We’ll be right outside if you need us.”
Sharon nodded and the deputies left. Then she turned her attention to Mark.
“You know, I’ve missed you,” she said warmly.
Mark burst into tears and shook his head woefully.
Sharon handed him a tissue from her purse and after a minute or two, Mark looked up and apologized.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you. After the divorce, things really went downhill for me. I started drinking heavily, doing drugs, and without even knowing it, I betrayed my team. Then I had a psychotic episode and spent time in a psych ward. Since then, I’ve been doing well, though the last few weeks have been particularly tough because of the new therapy I’ve started. As terrible as it sounds, I really haven’t had time for anyone but myself and the company as I get myself together and repair the damage I did at Johatchen. I’m really sorry.”
“No worries, Mark. We’ve had crazy busy lives and the hard work has paid off for both of us.”
“I wonder about that sometimes. No actually, most of the time. It seems like Janice and I were happier when we were less successful. Once we got rich, things changed. It seemed like Janice changed.
“Then again, I know how much I worked and how often I was absent. She supported me through my failures, even while I put in ridiculous hours. I’m not sure what changed this time. After all, the hard work had finally paid off.
“I really miss what we had.”
“It sounds like you really loved her.”
“And I guess I still do – ah, did.”
“Mark, I make a habit of not asking my clients if they’re guilty. I present what the State has as evidence and I try to call it into question. However,
even without having started discovery, the State has a compelling case. Your car was seen. You seem to have a motive.
“I know the Assistant DA pretty well, and she told me that she has evidence linking you to two other murders. You knew the victims, and there are emails on your computer which it appears you sent to a reporter claiming responsibility.
“At this point, other than the insanity plea, I’m not sure what else we have to argue.”
“I don’t know either. I took my meds which knocked me out, and the next thing I knew the police were there and I was under arrest. I certainly have no memory of hurting anyone. Not Janice or anyone else.
“On the other hand, I’ve been having memory lapses. So I really don’t know. I just can’t imagine I could do this. I still love Janice. And as for the others, why would I want to kill them?”
“Mark, today, you were charged with Janice’s murder. I suspect charges for the other murders will be coming soon. I’m going to bring in my best investigator to see what she can find. In the meantime, I need you to sign this Authorization for Release of Medical Records so I can talk to your psychiatrist.
“Quite frankly, although my personal feelings are not supposed to enter into it, I can honestly say that I don’t think you could have done this. But from where I’m sitting now, I’m not sure we’re going to be able to get a not guilty verdict. We may have to rely on the insanity plea. I’m hoping it won’t come to that, but I just want to set your expectations.”
“You sound like Sam. She works hard to manage my expectations too.”
“Is that your shrink?”
“Yeah. I have a feeling you two are going work well together.”
5
After receiving assurances from Morris that everything was under control, George said goodbye to his office mates and begrudgingly cleared his desk and shut down his computer. With the arrest of Mark Johansen, from the Sentinel’s point of view, things were going to move slowly while both sides prepared for trial. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad time to take a vacation after all.
George was supposed to meet Janey at 7 Hills, their last chance at real Italian food for ten days. After a romantic dinner, they’d make their way to the airport where they’d catch their redeye flight to Papeete, arriving just before sunrise.
George made his usual pit stop before leaving the office, and wouldn’t you know it, his phone rang just as he was standing at the urinal. He took a quick look at the screen and seeing it was Janey, he decided to answer.
“George! I’m so excited. This is our first vacation. It’s our honeymoon! I’m about fifteen minutes out. Are you almost ready?”
“Almost. I should be able to get to the restaurant about the same time you do.”
“Where are you George? You sound like you’re in a tunnel.”
Thinking quickly, George offered a riddle, “If I weren’t an American, but instead had been born in France, Germany, Italy, or Spain, what would I be?”
There was a brief pause as Janey thought about it and replied, “European? Eur-o-pe-an? Oh! You’re peeing. I love you George! I can’t wait to ravish you over and over for the next ten days.”
For a moment, George forgot about the serial murders, about Internet Bad Guys, and about work. He pictured Janey naked in turquoise water on a pink coral sand beach. Yeah. He was ready.
“I won’t tell you over the phone what I’m thinking about,” he replied. “See you in a few minutes.
As it turned out, Janey beat him to the restaurant. The host led George to a quiet table in the back where Janey was waiting, clearly excited.
“Aren’t you excited, George?” Janey asked after kissing George languorously.
“After a kiss like that, how could I not be. I’m glad we have a table in the back.”
As he thought about it though, George realized that he really was excited. This would be the first stretch of more than a few days not working since he started high school. He’d always worked summers, vacations, and after school. And even in college, he held down multiple part-time jobs to pay his own way.
But now, not only were they going to take time off, they were going to Tahiti. George had never been to a tropical place. So yes.
“You know Janey, I really am getting excited.”
“Me too! It’s our honeymoon, George!”
“Sorry that it’s so late. I started at the Sentinel just a couple days after we got married and haven’t taken a break.”
“Don’t feel bad, George,” Janey soothed. “I haven’t exactly been Ms. Available with Uluru taking all my time. But this is really good timing. The past three years of hard work is about to pay off for Uluru and for us. I can finally take some time off, and we certainly have saved enough money with our conservative lifestyle to afford this trip.
“I know it’s not a perfect time for you. But with a suspect arrested, it’s not the worst time either, is it?”
George had to admit that it wasn’t. Even if Mark Johansen wasn’t the killer, the case was going to slow down for a while.
“No. It’s probably not the worst time. But I do worry about missing something now that an arrest has been made. And, there is the other guy. Maybe he’ll send me more bad guys.”
“And if he does, Morris has promised to keep you updated. We’ll have excellent phone service and internet the first five days, and if something really major comes up, we can cancel the last five.”
“No,” George replied, looking deep into Janey’s startlingly green eyes. “Morris is right. The Sentinel can live without me for ten days, and I can certainly live without them, particularly if I have you by my side.”
“Or on top?” Janey suggested lasciviously.
“Or on top!”
They finished a bottle of wine and were just tipsy enough to sleep during the entire overnight flight to Papeete.
It was first light when they got off the plane in Tahiti. After collecting their bags and going through immigration, they easily found the shuttle to the ferry to Moorea.
They stepped onto the boat and were whisked across the strikingly turquoise waters of the lagoon surrounding Tahiti into the deep blue inter-island waters. Thirty minutes later, George and Janey were stepping onto the hotel shuttle. The short ride to the hotel almost left them both with whiplash, not because of dangerous driving, but because they couldn’t stop turning their heads from the turquoise ocean and motus beyond the lagoon on the right, to the rugged volcanic mountains to the left. Strikingly beautiful tropical flowers lined the surprisingly deserted road.
They checked into the hotel less than two hours from the time they landed. And as if destiny were blessing their trip, the very friendly Polynesian receptionist told them their room was ready. She explained that early December was their off season and they only had a few people staying in the overwater bungalows. She also invited them to partake of the breakfast buffet as soon as they were settled in.
“Vaea will take you to your room. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. My name is Palila.”
“Maeruuru roa, Palila,” Janey replied to a pleasantly surprised Palila and a stunned George.
Vaea greeted them warmly and led them to their room.
Their ‘room’ was bigger than their apartment and far more luxurious than anything they had imagined. Except for the ceiling and roof made of palm fronds, the entire space was built from exotic woods and glass. Lush green plants with tropical flowers set off a decor that left them breathless. The bed with its hand-carved headboard could easily have slept four people and Janey and George smiled at each other knowingly before the valet led them into the ‘bathroom’. This was a suite unto itself with a huge curved tub that would comfortably fit two, and a shower surrounded by glass windows that looked out over the lagoon.
As they returned to the living room, George couldn’t believe that he’d missed the glass window in the floor. Walking over, he spotted dozens of fish along with several sharks.
“Janey, look!”
“This is amazing!”
“And, it opens. There is a ladder down into the water so you can access the lagoon without even going out onto the deck,” Vaea explained. “The black-tipped sharks are very common here. They are completely harmless and you can swim with them comfortably, even the larger ones. There really aren’t any dangerous sharks inside the lagoon, so you should feel free to venture out wherever you want. We have kayaks, paddleboards, and snorkeling equipment available for you whenever you like. You can even paddle to your bungalow and tie your kayak to the ladder below or to the deck,” Vaea explained, leading them through the paneled French doors onto their private deck. No other bungalows were visible. It was truly private. Beyond the lagoon the surrounding motus offered dramatic white sands. A few were thick with coconut palms.
“You may see a few boats passing by or possibly one of the other guests in kayaks, but in general, people give a wide berth to the overwater bungalows to give you maximum privacy,” Vaea continued.
The deck had two levels. There was a covered section shaded from the sun with a table and chairs on the upper level and two deck chairs laid out in the sun on the lower deck. They took the two steps down and walked to the edge where they spotted the ladder that led from there into the lagoon. Countless fish, many an intense blue, darted in and out of the underwater coral formations. It all was more than they could ever have imagined.
“If you don’t have any questions, I’ll leave you to settle in. Don’t forget the breakfast buffet. Haere mai!
“Maeruuru roa, Vaea!” Janey repeated enthusiastically.
Seeing the look in George’s eyes, Janey grinned. “George, I need a shower first.”
“Shower?!” George answered sarcastically. “No shower!”
He undressed Janey, stripped off his clothes, pulled her naked body close and said, “Close your eyes woman of my dreams!” as he jumped off the deck into the crystalline waters with Janey wrapped in his embrace.
6
It was ten o’clock on Monday morning and Morris was at his desk thinking about George and Janey. He was proud of himself for chasing George out of the office. At the same time he felt a bit guilty about the fact that George hadn’t had a vacation or more than a few consecutive days off since he’d started at the Sentinel two years before. Then again, it was the same story for most of the aggressive young reporters. With the print news industry suffering and blogs becoming more and more influential, full time positions in the ‘newspaper’ industry were hard to come by and even harder to keep. George had pretty much assured his tenure with the level of effort he’d put in since starting at the Sentinel. And this was a good time for a break and a recharge. Somehow, Morris suspected that George would be returning to some of the biggest challenges of his career.
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