Twisted Innocence

by Terri Blackstock

  Cathy shrank back, scowling at him as he walked away. She had gone to college with Ned—the only reason he was doing her a favor now. He had majored in political science, then gone to work for the governor’s office a few years ago in a lower-level position. He’d managed to climb his way up, and she didn’t blame him for not wanting to mess that up. But how could pardoning a wrongly convicted man mess things up?

  While she waited for the program to start, she made her way to everyone she could identify in the room who might have some clout with the governor. She talked to both of her senators, two congressmen, the Panama City mayor, and every staff member she could identify. They all expressed sympathy and compassion for Michael. They had all heard of his case. They all said they would put in a word with the governor, but she doubted any of them would remember. What was he to them? Just another man behind bars. But he wasn’t just another man. He was a hero, a man who had saved so many lives, who had temporarily disrupted the drug flow into the entire panhandle.

  A man who was the love of her life.

  Before the governor finally made his entrance, everyone was asked to take their seats. Cathy gravitated back to her table, where some of her press colleagues were already in their places. Thankfully, the cards hadn’t been moved—the press secretary came a few minutes after the waitstaff began serving dinner and took his place beside her. He introduced himself to everyone around the table as if they didn’t already know him.

  Cathy waited until they were halfway through the dinner, chatting about the space program and all that it meant to the US, before she brought up Michael. “Listen, Jeremy,” she said, leaning toward him and lowering her voice, “I have an idea for a great PR story for the governor. A good news opportunity that would really make him look like a prince in the next election.”

  Jeremy gave her a sideways look. “Really? Let’s hear it.”

  “Do you remember Michael Hogan?”

  “The cop?” Jeremy asked.

  She nodded. “Michael is serving time in prison right now.” She quickly updated him on the felony conviction that should never have been, and the case a few months ago when he had violated probation by using a weapon to rescue her sister. “He even got shot himself. It was a matter of life and death. He shouldn’t be in prison because of it.”

  “I remember all that. No question, the guy’s a real hero,” Jeremy said. “But what do you want the governor to do? He doesn’t give pardons. That was one of his campaign promises. He’s not going to go back on that.”

  “But if he made this one exception, I think it would spread goodwill. There are a lot of people who know that Michael shouldn’t be behind bars. He’s already served two months. That’s more than enough. We need people like him out there fighting crime in our community, not being lumped in with the bad guys himself. If Michael got a pardon, his felony record would be wiped clean, and he could go back to carrying a weapon and being a cop. He could get back to hunting down bad guys, rather than being considered one of them.”

  Jeremy considered that as he cut into his chicken. “I can’t argue with that, but the governor is a stickler about keeping campaign promises. His opponents would jump on it if he went back on his word.”

  “So you believe the governor cares more about political expediency than about doing the right thing?” When Jeremy rolled his eyes, Cathy wondered if she’d gone too far. “Can’t he just explain that he got a dose of common sense and decided that this wrong needs to be righted?”

  “Then he’d be barraged with pardon requests.”

  “Isn’t he already? And anyway, what difference does that make? He doesn’t have to process those himself. This is one case where he could break that pledge and people would applaud him. A good man’s life is at stake.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “No, it’s not. He got a year. He’ll serve six months.”

  “But he’ll be a felon for the rest of his life! He lost his police career over this, and he was good at what he did. Even after leaving the police force—even without a weapon—he got scumbags off the street.”

  Jeremy took a bite of his dessert, chewed for a moment. Was he considering her request or had she lost him already? Tears rimmed her eyes. “Jeremy, he’s a good man. He needs consideration. And if he got pardoned, I would make you and the governor absolute heroes. I would talk it up on my blog, and people would be touting the governor as compassionate and clear minded.”

  Jeremy took another bite, chewed for a long moment. “Let me think about it,” he said. Then he turned and started a conversation with the person on the other side of him.

  Cathy let out a hard sigh. That had gone nowhere. As those around her chatted and worked on their cheesecake, she noticed that several people had crossed the room for photo ops with the governor.

  Sliding her chair back, she excused herself and went out as if going to the restroom, then went back in through the door closer to where the governor stood. She made her way along the wall, up toward the group around him.

  She waited as two or three more people had pictures taken with him, praying that he wouldn’t be called to the next activity before her turn. Finally, she made her way to his side.

  “Governor Larimore, hi,” she said in her most charming voice. “Cathy Cramer.”

  He smiled and lifted his chin. “Of the blog, Cat’s Curious?”

  She smiled. “Yes, you read my blog?”

  “I don’t have the time I once did, but I used to. I like your work.”

  “I’m honored,” she said.

  “Did you want a picture?” one of his aides asked her.

  “Sure.” She smiled and leaned in as the photographer came closer. “Governor,” she said quickly before someone else could intrude, “I just wanted to call your attention to a letter-writing campaign going on right now. A lot of people are trying to get Michael Hogan under consideration as someone you should pardon.”

  The governor shook his head. “Cathy, you know I made a promise.”

  “I know,” she cut in, launching into her sales pitch. “It was all a terrible mistake, as everybody who followed that trial was aware. Wouldn’t it be a great PR move for you if you agreed to make an exception for a local hero?”

  The governor narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t you engaged to him? Didn’t I read that somewhere?”

  She hoped that wouldn’t make a difference. “Yes, as a matter of fact. But I would do this for him even if we weren’t getting married. My first fiancé was Michael’s brother, and he was murdered. Michael lost his career because of that case, and the killer is still on the street, literally getting away with murder, not to mention several other crimes. It’s just so wrong that Michael is serving time—”

  “Excuse me,” an aide said, cutting in to her speech. “Governor, it’s time for you to speak.”

  Governor Larimore touched Cathy’s elbow. “It’s nice to meet you, Cathy.”

  She couldn’t let him go. “Governor, please consider it. Just read the letters and the package that I sent you.”

  “Thank you, Cathy,” he said. “No promises.” He walked away.

  Cathy stood clutching her purse and trying not to cry. She lifted her chin and looked around. Was there anyone else in the room she should talk to?

  The lights began to lower and the spotlight at the podium came on. The program was about to begin.

  Quickly, she headed out of the room and down the steps of the mansion. The valet brought her car. She didn’t let herself cry until she got behind the wheel.

  CHAPTER 14

  What am I supposed to do with these?” Cathy stood the next morning at Juliet’s kitchen table, puzzling over the rolled-up diapers, the tutu, and the pink headbands and bows.

  Juliet was holding Robbie on her hip while decorating her end table. “You make it into a centerpiece. Stand the diaper rolls on end and put the tutu around them. The headbands go around the top.” She thrust a green stuffed bear at her. “Stick this in the top. You can figure it out.”
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br />   Cathy tried to follow the instructions. “How come I didn’t get the decorating gene?”

  “It’s not genetic. It’s Pinterest.” Juliet went to the kitchen counter, where the ingredients for the punch were laid out. “Just before they get here, I’ll put the ice cream and rubber duckies in, and they’ll look like they’re floating in suds.”

  “Really? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’ve done it dozens of times.”

  “Holly’s friends might spike it.”

  Juliet chuckled and pointed at the two-liter bottles on the counter. “We’ll also have soda, just in case. Remind me to put out a bucket of ice.”

  The doorbell rang, and Cathy gasped. “Who’s that? It’s an hour and a half early.”

  “Probably the first babysitter I’m interviewing.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, I had to fit it in. If the oven timer goes off, get the brownies out and put the quiche in for fifteen minutes on three-fifty.” As she headed for the front door, she called out, “Zach? Come get your shoes out of here!” The bell rang again.

  Cathy worked on the centerpiece, not certain she was doing it right. How did Juliet do all this? She just had a flair for it, and she loved to entertain, though her new house was half the size of her former one and didn’t flow as well. Still, Cathy had no doubt that Juliet would pull off Holly’s baby shower, and she would do it without giving the slightest hint of the stress she was under with her husband’s death, her responsibility for her children’s well-being, the adoption of a baby, and the financial problems bearing down on her.

  The timer went off, and Cathy abandoned the centerpiece and hurried to the oven. She heard voices . . .

  A shrieking, nasal voice almost shook the house. “Oh my soul, look at that adorable little guy!”

  Robbie started screaming. Not a good start.

  Cathy looked over her shoulder as Juliet led the woman into the living area and offered her a seat. Juliet quickly introduced Cathy, then sat as she tried to comfort Robbie. “So . . . how long have you been working as a nanny?”

  “Seven years,” the woman nasaled. “Ten kids.”

  “All in one family?”

  “No, separate families. Some didn’t work out, so I moved on.”

  Cathy glanced at Juliet, saw the concern on her face. She checked the oven, trying to eavesdrop over Robbie’s crying.

  Zach came into the room in his sock feet and slipped on his shoes, then took Robbie from his mother. “Whatsa matter, buddy?” he asked, instantly calming his little brother.

  “I smell cigarette smoke,” Juliet said. “I told the agency I don’t want a smoker.”

  “I never smoke around my babies, don’t worry about that.”

  “So . . . what do you do when you need to smoke? Do you leave them alone and go outside?”

  “Only when they’re sleeping, sweetie.” The woman looked around and sprang up at the sight of the centerpiece. “Would you look at that? That’s just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Her voice grated. Cathy could smell her smoke-covered clothes and hair from the kitchen. She clearly wasn’t just an occasional smoker. How long would Juliet go on with this?

  As if reading Cathy’s thoughts, Juliet stood up. “Anita, I so appreciate your coming by, but I don’t think you’re what we’re looking for. The smoking worries me, since there are two babies you’ll be caring for. Robbie and my niece, Lily. It’ll be rare that they’re asleep at the same time—”

  Anita waved her off. “Honey, we can work that out.”

  “No, I don’t think we can. Robbie isn’t reacting well to you, either.”

  “Look, I can take care of your kids. The agency wouldn’t have sent me if I wasn’t qualified.”

  “I appreciate that,” Juliet said. “We have some more people to interview.”

  Cathy suppressed her grin and put the quiche into the oven.

  When Juliet came back from letting Anita out, she opened the back door. “Now the house smells like smoke. I want it to smell like brownies and cake.”

  “So I take it you’re not hiring Anita?”

  “Give me a break. Her voice knocked her out of the game when it sent Robbie into hysterics.” She went to the hallway. “Abe! Come move your backpack!” She checked the centerpiece. “Anita was right—that’s perfect. I think you do have the gene after all.”

  “Thank you. I had no idea if I was doing it right. I don’t want a bunch of church ladies gossiping about my artwork.”

  “They’re not ‘church ladies,’ they’re my friends, and they’re not gossips. They really aren’t. Cathy, you’ll like them. They’re good people. They just want to bless Holly.”

  Cathy hoped Juliet was right and that the mix of Holly’s friends with Juliet’s wouldn’t be disastrous.

  CHAPTER 15

  Holly was glad she had listened to Juliet and worn the dress she’d picked out. She had been dreading the baby shower that her sisters had insisted on giving her. Even with thick makeup, her black eye was still visible, and her gash was healing with a thick scab. The story of her mugging was true and believable—but Juliet’s friends didn’t go places where muggings were common. It made Holly feel cheap.

  “Every mother needs a baby shower,” Juliet had said. “My friends know how to do it better than anybody. They want to do this for you.”

  “But I don’t know them,” Holly muttered. “I don’t want them judging me. I can just see it now, all the noses turned up as the church divas march in.”

  Juliet grunted. “Holly, it’s not like that. You have the wrong idea. This is not our old church. Besides, it’s at my house, and I won’t let anybody treat you badly. These are nice people. I only invited people I knew would support you.”

  “Support me in what? Having a baby out of wedlock? Are they holding their noses? Or am I their next project?”

  Juliet set her hand on her hip. “I know you don’t realize this, but you’re the one judging here. They want to bring you gifts and celebrate Lily’s life. You need things. I just wish I had been in a position to give you the shower before she was born, but I wasn’t.”

  Holly mentally kicked herself for giving Juliet a hard time. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. Your friends are probably super-Christians, and I’m so . . . not.”

  Juliet leaned on the edge of her counter. “Honey, we didn’t all start out at the same place. We had totally different journeys. Stop looking at yourself as inferior. God doesn’t do that.”

  Holly knew Juliet meant well, but it didn’t change how she saw herself. “We were raised the same way, in the same family.”

  “Oh, Holly. No, we weren’t.” Juliet lifted Holly’s chin. “Look at me.”

  Holly met Juliet’s moist eyes. “What?”

  “I was raised by two parents who loved the Lord and taught me to. You were raised by a single mom after your preacher dad betrayed the family.”

  “He was your preacher dad too.”

  “But I was cooked by then, honey. I’d had a stable, solid upbringing. By the time Dad left us, I already knew Jesus and my faith was deep. It was in God more than in Dad. But you were just a little girl. Things were totally different on your journey.”

  Holly tried to hold back her tears. “So you’re completely letting me off the hook for my detours?”

  “That’s not my job. I’m just saying that God knows where you started and how you got here. He’s not disgusted, and neither are my friends. And when they get to know you, they’ll delight in you like God does.”

  The tears came despite Holly’s efforts. As she dabbed at them, she turned and saw Cathy listening from a few feet away, a poignant smile on her face.

  “I really want this to be fun for you,” Juliet added. “And don’t tell anybody, but I also want to show Lily off to all our friends. I want them to see how adorable she is.”

  Now, Holly tried to focus on the assurances Juliet had given her as the guests began to arrive. Would any of her own
friends actually make the effort to come? Most of them hated mornings, and they would consider a shower to be on their Top 10 List of Most Awkward Situations.

  As Juliet’s church friends arrived, that insecurity crept back in. Holly wished she’d worn a sweater to cover the tattoos on her biceps. It surprised her that Juliet hadn’t made her do that already. Maybe she’d warned them. Holly looks like a biker chick, but try to look past that.

  There she went again, judging them for things she expected them to think. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe they were all sweet, like Juliet.

  Despite her tension, she found herself relaxing as they gushed over Lily.

  “She locks in on you when you talk to her, like she understands every word.”

  “I can see the resemblance, Holly.”

  “Right? Look at those eyes. She’s gorgeous.”

  Holly couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, I kind of think she looks like me too. Poor kid.”

  “Poor kid?” one of the women said. “Are you crazy? Look at you!”

  This wasn’t so bad, Holly thought as more of the women came in. A few of them asked about her mugging and commented on her bruise and busted lip, but she didn’t feel judged. She grew less uncomfortable with the inevitable hugs. She wondered if Juliet had lectured them about how to treat her. Don’t say anything about her having the baby alone, and for heaven’s sake don’t mention her driving a taxi.

  Juliet wasn’t above scheming with her friends to get Holly back to church, but they seemed sincere.

  Just as Juliet was asking them all to sit, the doorbell rang again, and three of Holly’s friends from the Dock came in. Thrilled to see familiar faces, she ran across the room and hugged each of them. “I didn’t for a minute think you’d come!” she whispered. “It’s so good to have people I really know here.”

  Her friend Spree spoke a little too loudly. “Girl, we wouldn’t miss it. We had to see you acting all mommy-like. Cracks us up.”

  Georgia took Holly by the shoulders and studied her face. “What happened to you?”

  “Long, sad story,” Holly said. “I got mugged.”