Blacken

  Hearing him talk like this always got a rise out of her, the calm level-headed Owen usually handled facts and evidence. This new rash and hostile man no longer held her sympathies, temper, or emotions.

  Avie was in control of herself for the first time.

  “I miss you, you know? You were my confidant; someone I could always come to and trust. I’ve never had that before in the twenty-six years I lived until coming here and meeting you. I thought we would see everything through together until old age, and I did love you, just not in a romantic way. You were my family, something I never got to experience. And now, I can’t even get an apology from you. I wanted to thank you, Owen, thank you for the best few months of my life, but also the worst. Thank you for clearing this up. I will see you in December.”

  The woman hung up the phone, turning to get up and walk out of the visiting room. She heard him shout something behind her, but she didn’t look back. There was no more looking back at Owen. He was gone. Someone else entirely was taking his space, and she would only move forward.

  CHAPTER 23

  The floral top was no good, it bunched up in an awkward way, making Avie’s figure look lumpy instead of professional. Smoothing out the fabric, she turned and observed herself in the mirror, trying to find a way to make it work, with little success. She huffed, annoyed, shedding the material before raiding her closet yet again.

  “Damn it. What the hell am I supposed to wear now?”

  She had been planning this outfit in her mind, having it play out much differently than how it actually looked put together. The woman didn’t own dress pants, and only owned a few skirts that could pass as business—apparently, they didn’t pair well with most of her other casual wear. Avie didn’t think twice about planning a back up.

  December snuck up on her, too busy spending her time in the manor with Rhulle, making plans for when spring weather would come, shining sun and green grass becoming a deep yearning while the wind and snow persisted outside.

  Her attendance was in an hour, nerves taking the form of indecisiveness over attire.

  Grunting, she stomped over to her phone, dialing the memorized number and listening to it ring once, then twice, three times… “Come the fuck on,” Avie muttered.

  “Hello?”

  “Sandy, I’ve got to be at the courthouse in an hour and I am freaking the fuck out! Do you have a nice blazer or something I can borrow?”

  “Sugar? Oh of course! Take some deep breaths and I’ll be there asap!”

  Thank the stars for Sandra.

  She hung up, causing Avie to do the same while she started to pace, breathing deeply to calm her nerves with mixed results. Rationally, it had only been ten minutes until the knock came on the door, but it felt much, much, longer. She still hesitantly peeked through the spy hole, examining only Sandra on the other side.

  “Okay, so, I can’t even think straight, do you think just a white tee underneath? And I should have it open… No maybe closed,” the redhead spoke in rapid succession while opening to let Sandra inside, she was met by a funny expression on the other’s face.

  “Sugar, you must be more frazzled than I thought. Talk it out a bit, you got time.”

  “What do you mean? I have no sense of business wear, you have more experience than I do,” she was exasperated. Closing the door behind them, the woman looked down to see that she had forgotten to put a shirt on, a black bra making itself known.

  Avie sputtered before laughing, “I’m sorry, what a sight I must be!”

  The older of the two set the plastic covered grey suit down on the couch, coming over to place hands on shoulders, “You’re alright, s’the nerves. Talk what you’re feelin’ out, it’ll help.”

  The young woman swept the beading sweat from her brow, giggling in a nervous fashion, “I-It’s just-I have-I-I…” She breathed, steeling herself, “What if I can’t convey my experience properly? What if they don’t have the evidence to convict? What if he doesn’t get the help he needs?”

  Sandra smiled, “You gotta do the best ya can and let them figure it out. The whole situation isn’t cut and dry and there’s a lotta gaps that you and the other witnesses will help draw together. Just tell the truth, speak from the heart, you’re always amazing at communicatin’. People stop to listen to you, you have an ability to make them pay attention and they will hang on your every word while they draw a verdict,” the brunette reassuringly stated, helping to calm Avie’s hyper state.

  It all soothed her, giving her strength. Shaking out her hands and legs, she released some of the energy, “Thank you, Sandy. I’ll remember that when it’s my turn, I should- I should really get dressed!”

  The pencil skirt she bore was grey, pairing perfectly with the dark blazer Sandra provided for her. After talking out her concerns, she found herself to look professional and ready for court as she sighed with relief at her friend’s words.

  “Sandy, I can’t thank you enough, I would have been a wreck the entire trial.”

  “Glad I could help, sugar. It will all be done soon with your testimony, I’m sure! You got this.” Her enthusiasm helped pump up the redhead for the inevitable court arrival ticking away.

  Smiling, she styled her hair back with a clip to keep out of her face as she studied the final look. Her ring caught her eye, feeling butterflies unfold throughout her as Rhulle filled her thoughts. She half wanted to take it off for the trial, thinking it would be brought up, Owen possibly reacting from the information.

  She thought better, her ring gave her strength, drawing it from inside herself when she needed.

  “You’re gonna have to explain yourself!” Avie turned, seeing the brunette gesturing towards her ring. She brought her hand up to silently ask if the object was what she was referring to. “Yeah, the ring, silly! How long has that absolute rock been on your finger?”

  She lifted her eyebrows, pulling an apprehension laced face while she twirled the band around, “Well, uhh, I received it the same night I was shot.”

  Sandy’s face practically paled, “No! Aww sugar, I’m sorry, I was just thinkin’ I didn’t even notice it all this time and last thing you need is me pesterin’ you about that night… Well, let’s not talk ‘bout it, you can explain this mystery man and why I haven’t met him later. Right now, you gotta get going, I’ll drive ya.”

  Being ushered out the door and hopping into the truck, Avie stared back down to her gold band while being transported through the streets, a sigh escaping her as she longed to be with him instead.

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t ya?”

  Her head snapped up, catching Sandy’s brown side eyes and knowing smile, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, I think he’s the same way. I’ve been in love with him for a while now.”

  “You gonna tell me his name? I’ve met ‘most everyone in town, I want to see which one took your heart away.”

  The woman smiled, “He isn’t in town, I have to go and visit him, or he comes to me.”

  “Damn. That’s rough, sugar. It must be tough having to leave and deal with the oddity that happens ta people like you.”

  Avie almost forgot about people essentially needing to stay in town. The vibrations plagued her even throughout her stay, wracked her body as she worked tirelessly to find the answer. She remembered what her first information source had said some time ago; about people experiencing the same feeling once they left Blacken for a period, always bringing them back in due time. She wondered how those individuals were affected now when Rhulle no longer needed to continuously call people to Blacken.

  “I haven’t felt the—uhh—phenomenon any time I have left. Then again, I’m only gone a few days, so it might take longer. Who really knows?”

  “If anyone could figure this stuff out, I thought it would be you. I don’t really know much about it, never bothered ‘cause it sounded so made up. But how could people with no contact with each other all feel the same pressurized ‘travel incentive’? And why to our town?”<
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  “I think I got a few answers,” she laughed, “nothing interesting to warrant an end to the mystery.”

  “I don’t know, been a bit since I’ve heard ‘bout anyone skippin’ town, you may have done more than you’re lettin’ on.”

  A shoulder shrugged, nonchalant, “I would love to know what I did then, this whole thing was only a passion project.”

  Sandra laughed, herself chiming in while they parked in front of the courthouse. It was small, like everything in town, only expanding outwards in a long shape with maybe two levels in all. Avie’s stomach tied in knots while she sat before its intimidating form.

  If she could stand before an unknown creature of the night, she could do this easy.

  “Once you’re done, I need to hear all ‘bout mystery man. You still haven’t told me his name, so I expect that at least. Call me when you’re done, I’ll pick you up.” Avie huffed out a long breath while the brunette patted her back, “You got this, sugar. Startin’ is the hardest, you just have to start.”

  She nodded, determination lighting behind her eyes as she gained confidence through Sandra.

  The woman stood outside of the blue truck, drinking in the building that seemed bigger than it was, waving a small goodbye to the driver before walking up to the double doors—boots clacking on pavement and a purse clutched in sweaty palms.

  “Just have to start,” her mind repeated while opening the heavy door, walking in with her head held high.

  Dappled grey stone made up a majority of the elegant hallways and flooring, gold intricacies laced throughout the stone and pillars as she walked through the professional building.

  Despite the modern outside, inside of the courthouse styled a Romanesque fashion, older and more delicate areas showcasing its old age as it more than likely had been up and running with expansions added for numerous decades. Many arches and pillars lined the space where Avie walked, going through examinations and being directed to the courtroom.

  The dark wooden doors opened, and she strode inside, placing a seat beside her victim service personnel.

  She only met the man once before, introducing himself as Todd Harper with a firm handshake and soft chocolate brown eyes the night after she received the subpoena. His beard speckled russet and red while his long hair was sandy blond, clutches of freckles marked his tanned skin in a similar fashion to her own.

  Todd smiled, flashing overlapping teeth as he ushered her to the reserved seat.

  “There’s a chance they won’t call you up to the stand today, but still prepare to, just in case,” Todd whispered as he leaned over, “you doing alright, Avie?”

  “A little nervous, but I’m ready.”

  They nodded in response.

  Owen had been brought in, adorning the bleak jumpsuit and handcuffs, his cerulean eyes finding hers immediately, as if waiting for her, seeking her and only her in the sea of people; watching only as he passed through the aisle before biting his cheek with gaze returning to the forefront.

  Avie felt her heart squirm in her chest, unsure why she felt so apprehensive upon seeing him. Chalking it up to the fact both of them would be the only true dancers in this turn, one of them would plead a case greatly compelling the other’s life. She was absolutely sure he would bring up Rhulle, or the strange circumstances with her blood or others who perished in the unfortunate circumstances.

  Could she protect the location and identity of her love in the court of law? Moreover, how would everyone take to what could be outlandish stories wove by a man driven mad by a conspiracy?

  He was escorted to the defence table at the head of the room, sitting heavily beside his lawyer dressed in a fancy cranberry suit.

  “All rise for Honourable Judge Neish,” the court clerk’s voice bellowed, catching Avie’s attention from Owen in front of her, rising as the room did while the judge entered in black robes.

  The material swished as he stepped behind the bench, sitting while inspecting the papers resting there. Judge Neish must have been in his seventies if she had to guess, wispy white hair combed over to one side with half-moon glasses perched precariously over the edge of his wide nose.

  “The court recognizes the case of R v. Owen Zagorski. The public may be seated.”

  To her surprise, he spoke with strength, a smooth and confident voice that came only with decades of experience flowed from him as he spoke to the room. He commanded the authority with no questions asked.

  “Court is now in session; Crown counsel please proceed with the prosecution.”

  Graceful in her movements, the Crown counsel rose and paced at the front of the room, long robes giving the appearance of gliding over the floor instead. “At this time, I will direct the witnesses to their allocated rooms before the trial is to begin.”

  Avie did just so, Todd leading beside her as they were escorted with a few other familiar faces. In a small side room close by, they filed in, taking seats in awkward chairs. She caught a glimpse of Owen sneaking a look at her as she left.

  She had no idea what he was thinking, but she knew it was full of spite. After all, she survived his murder attempt and was about to testify against him, maybe he felt like she owed him not to—as if he didn’t act out the most heinous crime towards her.

  Inside of the room, they were instructed to wait until they were called, and to not discuss amongst each other details of their accounts or the case. The bailiff stood powerful at the door to watch over them, giving them freedom to watch television so long as it was not news or information stations. Avie made eye contact with a few of the other witnesses, recognizing her neighbour, her operating surgeon and even the detective that she had dealt with a few times in the case. There were also a few faces she did not recognize, more than likely there to go over evidence and testify on Owen’s behalf.

  Time crawled by as they all discussed pleasantries, deciding to put on a movie after seeing what was available on various programs. It was mostly background noise as all simply sat in anticipation for their own turn. It was even worse than being alone, to have people here and not discuss what they were all here to do.

  She fidgeted, watching a scene take place that had something to do with Christmas, her leg bouncing. Det. Arcand left for his testimony, it felt like hours had gone by in his absence. Her chin jutted into her hand as she leaned over the dark table, she wanted to get this all over with, yet this could be how she spent her time for who knew how long?

  He returned eventually only to have her neighbour leave shortly after for his turn. One by one they were going up, seemingly leaving herself for last. It was an agonizingly slow process, made worse by the fact that she couldn’t even know what was going on. She wished it was possible for her to sit in front of the bar and watch the trial go down, it would be leagues better than sitting here in morbid curiosity.

  The woman pondered about what Owen would say, how he could spin the situation into his favor. If she was him, she would try to make it seem like self defence, probably his only bet. Although it didn’t translate well in her imagination, he was something the lines of six feet tall, she could hardly stand toe to toe with him.

  And what of Rhulle?

  Would Owen bring him up at all? Was that ill advised by his defence lawyer, or would it again be warped into having to do with herself instead? How would the mystery they worked on be discussed as it laced intricately with Rhulle?

  She felt sick with boredom, conjuring up a hyperactive mind.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to open with a thank you for attending today. This has been quite a movement in Blacken’s small community; the first of its kind in generations. A person had attempted to kill, to take the life of another, for an unknown reason. I would like to outline the defendant, the only suspect in this case, as that very perpetrator. Owen Zagorski is a man who was found fleeing the scene, his name is registered on the attempted murder weapon, and attached very closely to the victim. I implore you to carefully consider all evidence in your judgement
.”

  The dark haired woman smiled, flipping her loose curl strands in an almost exaggerated manner. It annoyed Owen, finding that she kept repeating the action even in early trial. It was distracting for him to watch; she should have just worn it back…

  “My first witness I’d like to call can help us put some pieces together with what happened. I’m calling Santi Arcand to the stand.”

  In a matter of moments, the man who had toyed with Owen in his interrogation waddled in, the blond side-scowled, readjusting in his seat.

  The short man was sworn in, settling down into the bench.

  Crown counsel started up again, “Mr. Arcand, can you state your occupation for the record?”

  He leaned forward, “I’m a Detective for Blacken’s police department.”

  “Were you involved with the defendant in any way?”

  “I handled his booking and filed the information on him.”

  She talked to the detective as her body opened to allow the collected jury to easily see their interaction, hands moving greatly with her speech in inflated motions.

  “Were you ever at the crime scene on the night of October twenty-sixth?”

  “I was. Called in shortly after midnight and arrived about a quarter after then.”

  She nodded, approvingly, “Since you were involved, could you identify the weapon found at the scene of the crime?”

  He chuckled, “Sure can. A Taurus Judge, silver, dark grey handle.”

  The Crown counsel woman brought forth evidence collected during the case, starting with the most critical piece that tied Avie and himself together as a crime.

  She showcased the item and spoke high and mighty, “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I present to you Exhibit A: The revolver used on the night of the crime. The same handgun registered to Owen Zagorski, purchased in the time that he got to know the victim.”

  Passing around accumulated papers, the Crown described them as matching fingerprint documents and ownership records of the piece, “Now, the evidence presented here is pretty cut and dry, it very simply connects the defendant being in possession of this revolver. Detective, you said you were the one who booked the defendant, correct?”