“Greg was a drug addict, alcoholic and wife beater. What did he do for money?”
“I don’t know,” Honey said. “He’s in prison for stealing. He’s in for life now after getting three felonies. But he was always in and out of jail. He’d go out some night, get picked up by the police then be gone for months at a time. Mom had to find ways to feed us. We would clean hotel rooms.”
“We?”
“My Mom and I would split up the hotel where we lived.”
“When did you start doing that?”
“I remember cleaning at four or five, so some time before that,” Honey said. “My sister is two years older than me. She went to school.”
“This is fascinating but can we get to the point?” Miles Blanchard, her sister’s attorney, asked.
The DA had told her that Mr. Blanchard would try to keep the jurors from liking her or forming a bond with her. Honey smiled at the man. She must be doing well.
“Let’s keep moving,” the judge said.
“I’ll cut to the chase,” the assistant DA said. “You said your father hit your mother. Did he hit you?”
“Yes,” Honey said.
“And your sister?”
“She was his favorite. He held her on a kind of pedestal, said she was the best of all of us leeches. If she did something wrong, she’d tell him I did it and he’d hit me. I think she was reprimanded but I don’t remember him hitting her.”
“When you say ‘hit’ what do you mean?”
“I couldn’t go to school because I was so battered. He broke my arm a few times. When my Dad adopted me, they had to re-break my arm to make it work right.”
“But your sister went to school?”
“Yes, she was good at school,” Honey said. “Mom and I would clean the hotel while she went to school.”
“Mr. Blanchard has said that your sister was ‘raped’ by your father,” the assistant DA said.
“I don’t remember that,” Honey said. “Mom and I were always at his disposal. He kind of idolized my sister. She’s pretty, funny and smart. They were a lot alike – my sister and Greg.”
“Objection! Conjecture!” Mr. Blanchard jumped to his feet.
Startled, Honey looked at the judge. The judge gave the attorney a stern look. Turning to Honey, she smiled.
“You can only tell us about your direct experience, Mrs. Scully,” the judge said. “Not your judgments or what you think about it.”
“Just the facts?” Honey asked. “But they are a lot a like. That’s a fact. They look like twins.”
“Stick with your facts,” The judge smiled. “I ask the jury to disregard Mrs. Scully’s comparison between her sister and Mr. Gilmore. Please proceed.”
“Mom and I were supposed to take care of his needs,” Honey said.
“Your father didn’t rape your sister?”
“Not that I know of,” Honey said. “And I don’t know when he would have. He usually had Mom and me in bed with him.”
“You slept in the same bed with your mother and father?”
“He would have sex with Mom then me,” Honey said. “That’s usually how it worked. I couldn’t read or write. Greg said it was the only thing I was good at.”
Ms. Campbell walked back to her table to give time for Honey’s last statement to linger in the air. Honey glanced at Mr. Blanchard and saw a smug look on his face. Her sister leaned over to say something in his ear. He nodded as if to say, ‘Having sex with Greg was the only thing she was good at.’ Honey’s head jerked toward the loud cough in the audience.
MJ.
He loved her no matter what. Honey gave him a soft smile.
“This is a good time to take a recess,” the judge said. “Ms. Campbell? Mr. Blanchard? I want to see you in my chambers in fifteen minutes.”
Honey wheeled past the jurors on her way to MJ and her family. She could feel their eyes on her. When she looked up, an elderly woman near the end smiled at her. She nodded and kept moving. Inside, she couldn’t help but smile.
The jury was starting to like her.
~~~~~~~~
Tuesday afternoon — 3:11 P.M.
Sandy looked from face to face in the small conference room. The District Attorney, some Federal representative, Seth and another Denver Police Detective were arguing over what should happen next. She wasn’t sure why they insisted on her coming to this meeting. She only knew she had to be there.
Samantha Hargreaves, Aden’s attorney, had filed to have the charges dropped against him. After all, the person he assaulted was no longer an issue. The DA was furious. The Feds were enraged that their key witness was murdered while in Denver Police custody. Everyone kept looking at her as if she might be the solution to their problems.
No, she didn’t know anything about any Chinese.
No, she was never involved in the distribution part of her father’s business.
No, she had not been in contact with her father after he got out of jail.
Yes, that’s right, she hadn’t spoken even one word to him since she was twelve years old. Was that so hard to believe?
The men stopped talking to her after that. She was not the answer to their problems. They still wouldn’t let her go home.
In her mind, she fantasized about going home, to her home, her little condo on Seventeenth Avenue. She imagined walking in the brick building then up the stairwell to her second floor condo. She’d open her front door and be home. Maybe she’d sit out on her small balcony. She might walk across the street for a cup of coffee from Watercourse Foods. Drinking her coffee, she might wander over to Marczyk’s for some baking supplies. With her arms filled with her reusable bags, she would walk home while planning the cake that would occupy the rest of her afternoon.
Seth touched her hand and she returned to the small room.
“I’m going to take Sandy home,” Seth said. “We’ve already determined that she’s safe at the Marlowe-Lipson home. This entire debacle has been a shock to her system. She needs to rest.”
The Feds started screaming again. The District Attorney screamed back. And Sandy leaned back in her chair. Once again, her father had splattered his garbage all over her life. Even dead, the man continued to wreak havoc in her life. Sandy settled in for what was sure to be a long afternoon.
What kind of cake was that?
Her mind shifted to somewhere far away from this room.
~~~~~~~~
Tuesday afternoon — 4:07 P.M.
Heather was standing at the MAC counter when she felt a strong contraction. She’d been having false labor for the last couple of weeks, so she thought nothing of it. With the economy as bad as it was, she was the only employee until five. Anyway, she figured she’d be in labor for twenty-four hours or maybe forty-eight hours. She also figured she would be late. After all, this was her first pregnancy.
Everyone told her she would be late and in labor for at least twenty-four hours.
But everyone also told her about morning sickness, general depression, exhaustion, swollen feet, feeling like you could eat a house and a whole bunch of other stuff. Luckily, she hadn’t had any of those problems.
Well, swollen feet. But swollen feet were a part of working retail. Heather turned away from the customer in front of her.
“Oof,” she said.
“Are you okay?” the young woman asked.
“Just a little false labor,” Heather said. “I think we should try this other mascara. That black is too dark. Have you tried the deep blue?”
And so she got through the next ten minutes. Delighted with her makeup, the customer spent over a hundred dollars and even asked Heather is she would consider doing the makeup for her wedding. While chanting ‘please leave’ inside her head, Heather smiled and nodded. She collapsed onto a high stool when the customer left.
Glancing at her watch, she began to call her birthing team to find:
Sandy was still with the police jerks.
Jill was still at the stupid trial.
> Tanesha was still at work at Denver Health.
Crap.
She didn’t even have a car. Her new car was getting an upgrade done. Blane had dropped her off for work then said something… what did he say?
“Oofff,” she said.
She felt a trickle, then a whoosh of wetness.
Holy crap!
She was having this baby!
Right now!
Where were her girls? Sure, Blane had gone to every class and was going to do acupuncture but she needed HER GIRLS. She tried to call Tanesha again.
No answer.
Crap. She left Tanesha a text message. Heather held the phone to her forehead willing it to ring. With contractions coming a minute a part, she faded a little bit.
“Hi,” Blane said. Somehow he arrived on the other side of the counter. “Are you all right?”
“She doesn’t look great, Blane.”
Who said that? Heather thought. Her head rotated to see none other than Tres Sierra!
“WHATISHEDOINGHERE!?!”
Ooh! That came out a little loud. Did she scream? In the middle of MAC? Her boss will kill her!
“He helped me get the car,” Blane went around to the other side of the counter.
“She’s having the baby,” Tres said. “I’ll call 9-1-1.”
“I don’t think we have that kind of time,” Blane said. “This baby is coming now. Heather? Heather?”
Heather looked at him and smiled. Here he was. She needed him and here he was. For the first time in her entire life, a man came through for her. Just for her. Even though he had said he would be there, he had said he wanted to be there, she’d never believed him. Until this moment. Blane was here.
“Let’s get her off the chair,” Tres said. “Do you have needles in the car?”
“I have some with me,” Blane said. “I was going to give her a treatment. She’s been having contractions for a week or so. She’s been pretty uncomfortable… no sleep…”
“Get the fuck out of my way!”
Tanesha. Tanesha. Is that you?
“It’s me, honey.” Tanesha’s face appeared in front of her. “Who are you?”
“I’m…” Tres sputtered. Tanesha whipped around to look at him.
“I’ll tell you who you are – you’re the guy who’s going to do exactly what I tell you to do. First, you’re going to close the doors to this shop. We do not want some passerby watching our baby be delivered. Then you’re going to find me towels.”
Tres jumped at Tanesha’s commands.
“Wait!” Tanesha said. “Give me your jacket.”
Tres took off his jacket. Tanesha placed the jacket under Heather’s head. Tres stopped for a moment to say something.
“Go!” Tanesha made a motion with her hands. “Blane, are you ready with your needles? You’re going to have to do the needles and help her breathe. Can you do that?”
“I’m ready,” Blane said.
Tanesha? I feel funny. Lightheaded.
“Her blood pressure is up,” Blane said.
“You better get to work then,” Tanesha said. “Something happens to Heather, you’re going to have to deal with Jill AND Sandy AND, more importantly, ME. You don’t want to have to deal with me. Now get to work.”
Blane began placing needles.
“Heather? I’m going to take your pants off and underwear,” Tanesha said.
But what about… you know…
“Can’t have a baby through your undies,” Tanesha laughed.
Tres gave Tanesha a stack of towels.
“Where did you get these?”
“I bought them next door,” Tres said. “I also got some fleece blankets for the baby.”
“Place the towels around her. Leave a stack down near her knees. You will not look at what’s private. You hear me!”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I’m going to wash my hands,” Tanesha said. “You did call 9-1-1?”
“They’re on their way,” Tres said. “I told them she was having the baby but...”
“How’s her blood pressure Blane?”
I feel better, good, not so scared. Did you see? Blane’s here? He came through!
Laughing, Tanesha disappeared from sight. Heather was jostled back and forth as Tres put the towels around her. The contractions ripped through her one after another.
“There’s a couple people here,” Tres said. “Women.”
Jill? Sandy?
“No, they say they work here,” Tres said. “One woman says she’s your manager. She said she’s closing the shop.”
“Don’t worry about us or the store, Heather. Just worry about yourself and the baby.” A woman’s voice wafted over the counter.
“We love you, Heather!” A teenager’s voice said. “Can we help?”
“You sure can,” Tanesha said. “We need some water or ice for Heather. We also need someone to wait for the paramedics at the door so they don’t get lost.”
“I’ll wait for the paramedics,” the high school girl ran out the door.
“She’s crowning!” Tres yelled.
“Excuse me,” Tanesha said to the women. Walking around the counter, Tanesha punched Tres in the shoulder. “You were not supposed to look.”
“I have done this before,” Tres said. “More than once. In my family, birthing babies is an entire family affair.”
“Great,” Tanesha said. “You can help Blane with the breathing. Heather?”
Yep! I’m here! I’m doing my breathing! Tanesha? I think he’s coming now.
“On my call ready, Heather?”
I’m ready! I’m ready!
“One – Two – Three! PUSH!!”
CHAPTER EIGHTY
Step by step
Tuesday evening – 7:15 P.M.
Sighing, Honey looked out the window of the SUV.
“Tired?” MJ asked.
He slowed to turn onto Seventeenth Avenue from Race Street. They were making their way to St. Joseph’s Hospital to visit Heather and her new baby.
“Tired? Yeah, I’m tired,” Honey said. “I was thinking about what the DA said.”
“You’ve said that a couple times, but haven’t told me what he said.”
“I don’t want you to get mad,” Honey said. “Especially since we got invited to see the new baby. That’s a really big deal.”
“To be invited?” MJ asked.
“To be a part of the family,” she said. “Jill said Heather asked for me and wanted the baby to meet Auntie Honey and Uncle MJ.”
MJ placed his large hand over her small hand. They smiled at each other.
“I never expected all of this,” Honey said.
“I never expected they would name the baby Mack,” MJ laughed.
“Samuel Mack Lipson,” Honey said. “They wanted to name him after Dad, since he and Celia saved Blane. The Mack was pretty obvious since he was born at the store. Six pounds, ten ounces. Jill said they are over the moon with Mack. Blane hasn’t wanted to even set him down.”
MJ pulled into the parking structure. Lost in their own thoughts, they were silent until MJ found a parking spot. After putting the SUV in park and shutting off the car, he turned to her.
“I’d like to know what the DA said.”
“Ann… You remember who that is?”
“The Assistant DA who is prosecuting the case,” MJ said.
“Right. She said they went back to the judge’s chambers and the judge was mad. She thinks my sister’s lawyer, Mr. Blanchard, is trying for a mistrial.”
“Why?”
“Because she said I was ‘cute as a button’ and ‘adorable.’ The judge wanted to know what the defense had planned since I ‘blew his abuse defense out of the water.’”
“What did he say?”
“He said they never planned on using the abuse as a defense. Anyway, Ann said they’re planning to prove that I’m paralyzed because you botched the medical. You were in it with my sister and you did this to me on purpose.”<
br />
Blowing out a breath, MJ sat back in the seat.
“Ann asked me if you and my sister were lovers,” Honey said. “Were you?”
MJ shook his head.
“You don’t remember,” Honey said.
“I don’t remember,” MJ said. “If it happened, it was a long time ago. But I don’t think we did. I never liked her. I always thought she was… evil. But I can’t be sure. I don’t have that kind of memory any more. You know that.”
“Hmpft,” Honey said. “Well, according to Ann, they’re planning on saying that you and she were lovers and planned the entire thing to get me out of the way. She stabbed me for you. Now that she’s in prison, you’re pretending to be with me so no one suspects.”
Not knowing what to say, MJ nodded his understanding.
“I asked Ann, ‘What about Trevor? She was married to Trevor! Sold Jill into prostitution and Katy too?’ Ann doesn’t know what they’re going to say about Trevor. Maybe you and my sister were going to get together and Trevor would have his Jill? She doesn’t know.”
“When did I make this plan with her?”
“I guess when you were in on their scheme.”
“Oh, that’s good,” MJ said. “I was on tape all of that time. You can hear me. And what they’re saying too.”
“I said the same thing but they said that was the problem.”
“Why?” MJ asked.
“Because the DA and Ann have been instructed to leave your team out of the case. If they introduce your tape, they open the door to ask about your team. Her lawyer is gambling that the Feds would rather let her go, get off misdemeanor assault, than expose your team.”
MJ got out of the driver’s seat. He took Honey’s wheelchair from the back of the SUV and came around to her door.
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad,” MJ said. “I’m also not going to get hooked into this crap with your sister. She’s always been evil. She’s evil now. She’s trying to get to you in the most basic way possible – destroy your faith in the people who love you. She did it to us before and I won’t let her do it now.”
“So you did sleep with her?”
MJ sighed. He lifted Honey into her wheelchair. After helping her settle, he set a vase with a dozen pink roses in her lap.
Cascade Page 26