From a Single Seed: A Novel

by Teri Ames

  When Claire Hiller got home, her kids were in bed. Her husband was watching some stupid series on Netflix about a football team. He paused the program, holding the remote aloft as a way of communicating this should not be a long conversation. It was just as well, seeing as she wasn’t supposed to discuss the case with anyone.

  “Are you done with jury duty?” he said.

  “No. I have to go back tomorrow. But I’m hoping it’ll be the end.”

  “Okay, good. I ordered pizza tonight. You can make dinner tomorrow, right?”

  “I should be able to.” Claire nodded. She wished she could talk to someone outside the jury. It was hard not knowing what to do. It seemed like the jurors were split down the middle, but there was one juror, Tony Something, who was lobbying hard for a conviction. It just didn’t feel right to Claire, but she was feeling the pressure to come to a decision. She could tell that all the jurors were feeling that same pressure. She had a feeling that, if the deliberations dragged on much longer, Tony would get even more persuasive and they would end up convicting. She certainly couldn’t see herself as the lone holdout.

  She wished she knew whether to believe that defense witness, Dr. What’s-his-name. He seemed credible, but it could just be a load of hooey presented to the jury so that Keenan Brody could get away with killing his girlfriend. Just like Mr. Dutton had made it sound.

  It would be wrong if she let him get away with murder.

  Chapter 64

  Friday, September 19, 2014

  KEENAN LAY in bed and listened to Grandpa Armand snore. It was oddly comforting. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. Grandma Helene was asleep on the bed next to his grandpa. She must be harder of hearing than she let on.

  They both looked like they had aged a few years during the trial. His parents, too. At least his parents would probably still be around when he got out of jail. The odds were good his grandparents would both be gone.

  Where would the jail be? Would it be close enough for his family to visit?

  Would jail be as violent as they portrayed it on TV?

  There was a feeling of urgency, so everyone was up and dressed early. Then, they sat in the motel rooms eating convenience store food and waiting for something to happen.

  The hours ticked by one second at a time.

  Chapter 65

  Friday, September 19, 2014

  “WE HAVE a verdict,” the clerk said when Barry answered his phone at 4:07 p.m. Barry immediately called Keenan’s cell phone.

  “You need to get to the courtroom as soon as possible.”

  “What do you think the verdict is?”

  “I have no better idea than you do. But you need to hurry. The judge will consider it disrespectful if we make him wait.”

  When Keenan and his family walked into the courtroom ten minutes later, Barry was there waiting. Fred Dutton was in his place at the adjacent table. The Dawsons sat directly behind him. Most of the people who had been there for the trial had not waited around for the verdict. However, Manny Rodriguez from the Adams Gazette was in the gallery. He was talking to two other reporters who had either been waiting all day or had made nice with someone in the clerk’s office.

  Barry wished he could say something to reassure Keenan. But anything he said at that point would ring false, so he just put a hand on the kid’s shoulder and nodded.

  As soon as all the required people were present, the judge came onto the bench.

  “Please remain standing for the jury,” he said. He did not take a seat either.

  THE JURORS were lined up on the other side of the door leading to the deliberation room. The remains of their lunch of pizza and salad were strewn around the room. It was clear nobody had wanted to disturb them by taking the time to clean up lunch.

  A few people were chattering about work and kids and how much they had missed by spending most of the week at the courthouse. Most were too tired of the forced socializing. They stood quietly, just waiting to be allowed to go home. Claire Hiller was fighting to keep her composure. She wasn’t sure whether she had done the right thing. She didn’t know if she could live with herself. But the one thing she knew was that another day in the deliberation room would not have made the situation easier. That and she hoped she was never called for jury duty again. She had learned something about herself during the process––she didn’t like having to judge other people. She had done it because it was her civic duty. Duty or not, once was enough.

  The bailiff knocked on the door before he opened it. They all filed into the courtroom for the last time.

  “Mr. Martin,” the judge said, “I understand you have a verdict.”

  “We do.”

  “With regard to count one, voluntary manslaughter, how does the jury find?”

  KEENAN HELD his breath. This was it, the moment that would determine the next fifteen years of his life. In reality, the rest of his life would probably be determined by the next few seconds. Would he get a college degree or a felony record? Would he eventually have a family of his own or live alone, labeled unworthy? His stomach cramped with dread.

  CASSIE GRIPPED Greg’s hand with both of hers and looked to the jurors for a sign. Many of them were looking down as if studying the carpet patterns. The rest were looking at the judge. Was it a bad sign that they were not looking at her son?

  OLIVIA LEANED into Jack. Thankfully, he put his arm around her shoring her up. The enlarged photo of her daughter’s face in death was etched into her memory. She hoped these next few moments would make it worth the nightmares she was sure to have as soon as she started sleeping again. Make him pay. Please, make him pay.

  THE FOREMAN hesitated. “Not guilty,” he said.

  There was a collective gasp in the courtroom. While the judge took a few seconds to register the import of the words, the people in the gallery started to whisper and then talk. Cassie Brody sobbed loudly. Olivia Dawson shook her head angrily.

  The judge gave them ten seconds before he banged the gavel firmly. “Order, please.” He banged again. Three seconds later, the room had returned to silence, but the agitation of all the unexpressed emotions gave the air a humming feeling.

  “With regard to count two, domestic assault, how does the jury find?”

  This time there was no hesitation. “Not guilty,” he said.

  At the request of the prosecutor, the judge polled the jury.

  EVERY TIME one of the jurors said “Not guilty,” Keenan felt like a link was removed from an iron chain wrapped around his soul.

  “Thank you for your service,” the judge said. “We all appreciate the time and consideration you put into this case. All rise while the jury exits.” The jury filed back to the deliberation room. As soon as they were gone, and everyone was again seated, the judge addressed Keenan.

  “You are free to go, Mr. Brody. You may see the clerk of court about the return of your bail money. Good luck to you.”

  “All rise,” the bailiff bellowed, and the judge left.

  Chapter 66

  Friday, September 19, 2014

  “THAT’S IT?” Olivia Dawson said. That boy had her murdered her daughter and gotten away with it? That couldn’t be it.

  “The jury didn’t think he did it,” Jack said.

  “Of course he did it. How else could she have died?”

  “Maybe someone else did it?”

  “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

  “Or maybe...” The thought was left hanging as Fred Dutton approached.

  “I’m sorry about that verdict. I tried to get you the result you deserved, but sometimes we just can’t prove a case beyond a reasonable doubt.”

  “How could they have believed him? He murdered my daughter.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been doing this for many years, and I can’t tell you what gets a jury to vote one way or the other.”

  “Is there anything else we can do? Are there other charges you can file?”

  “I’m sorry. Now that
he’s been acquitted, double jeopardy keeps me from going after him again. You can consult a lawyer about a civil suit. The burden of proof is much lower, so you might have more success, but that’s not my jurisdiction.”

  “We need to sue,” Olivia said.

  “Olivia,” Jack said. “I think we should let it go.”

  “Our daughter is dead and you want to let it go?”

  “I think Mr. Dutton gave it his best shot, but there’s obviously some question about whether that boy killed her. What if he didn’t kill her? Suing him isn’t going to bring her back. We have no good use for the money anyway.”

  “It’s not about the money. It’s about making him pay.”

  Jack glanced at Fred. “We can talk more about it later. Privately.”

  “Your husband is right. You don’t need to make any decisions today. Except about what you’re going to say to the press. You know they’ll want a statement.”

  When Jack and Olivia walked out the front door of the courthouse, Barry Densmore, Keenan, and his family were already on the steps. A half dozen reporters were gathered, three with cameramen at their elbows.

  “I will be speaking for Keenan and his family,” Barry said. “Obviously, they are relieved that the jury believed in Keenan’s innocence. It’s a tragedy that Shannon Dawson is dead, but as Keenan has said all along, it is not a tragedy that had anything to do with him. Again, Keenan does not wish to make any statements at this time. Thank you.”

  “Did you get away with murder, Keenan?” a reporter shouted.

  “You can tell us, you know. They can’t try you again,” another said.

  “For the last time. I did not kill Shannon,” Keenan said before his parents closed ranks and pulled him away from the reporters. The reporters quickly turned their attention to the Dawsons, who were standing side by side at the top of the steps.

  “How do you feel about the verdict, Mr. and Mrs. Dawson?”

  “It’s a travesty,” said Olivia.

  “Are you upset with the jury, Mr. Dawson?”

  “I’m sure they did what they thought was right.”

  “Are you saying that Brody might be innocent?”

  “Only that boy knows whether he killed my daughter,” Jack said. “The rest of us can only look at the evidence. I don’t necessarily agree with what the jury did, but I don’t blame them for it.”

  “Are you saying you thought it was a weak case?”

  Olivia stepped in front of her husband. “I have no doubt that boy killed my daughter and I know that he will rot in hell for it eventually. In the meantime, I hope he thinks of her and feels guilty every day for the rest of his miserable life. He may have fooled the jury, but he didn’t fool me, and he can’t fool God.”

  “Will you be filing a civil suit?”

  Jack grabbed Olivia and pulled her away. “We have no more comments at this time,” he said.

  As soon as they were away from the reporters, Olivia hissed, “Why did you say those things? That boy doesn’t deserve anything resembling vindication. There’s a big difference between not guilty and innocent.”

  “It’s time to let this go.”

  “Let it go? Our daughter is dead. We’ll never have grandchildren now. Are you serious? Let it go?”

  “Look, I understand why you’re angry. A guilty verdict would have meant closure. Now we’ll never know for sure what happened to Shannon that night. I don’t like that any more than you do. But we have a choice. We can let it define the rest of our lives or we can move on.”

  Olivia shook her head, her expression like vinegar on her tongue. “I don’t understand you.”

  “I know. I’m not sure you understand anyone. Maybe that’s part of your anger. You realized during this trial that you didn’t even understand your own daughter.”

  Olivia started to cry.

  Jack shrunk. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You were a good mother to Shannon.”

  “No, I wasn’t. If I were, she wouldn’t have crossed the country to go to college, and she’d be alive right now.”

  “Don’t do this to yourself. Shannon loved you. She was just at the age when kids assert their independence. It’s part of becoming an adult.”

  “She never made it.”

  “I know. And it’s not fair. But ultimately it may not be anyone’s fault.”

  “I’ll never forgive him.”

  “Nobody’s asking you to. For now. But eventually, you may have to for your own sake. Come on. Let’s go back to the hotel and see about getting a flight back to California. You’ll probably feel better when you get home.”

  “I want to sue him.”

  “I know. But I’m not going to let you.”

  FRED WASN’T sure where he had gone wrong. He always told his young deputies that you learn more from your losses than your wins, and he’d always believed it. That meant that there was a lesson for him somewhere in the rubble. He wondered if his mistake went all the way back to jury draw. Maybe there had been a rogue juror on the panel. He probably should have kicked that guy Anthony Brennan.

  Manny Rodriguez was sitting in Fred’s visitor chair, a notepad in his hand. “Keenan Brody was acquitted of all charges. Do you have any comments for the people of Adams County?”

  Fred nodded. “I believe in our system of justice. We have stringent standards for convicting people of crimes because it’s better to let guilty people go than to convict the innocent.”

  “Are you saying that you think Keenan Brody got away with a crime?”

  “Only he knows the answer to that. And I don’t need to know to do my job. My job is to present the evidence to the jury and let them decide. I don’t feel bad about the way it turned out because I know I did my job.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. I am honored that the people of this county have entrusted me with the job of protecting them, and I will continue to do that job as long as they see fit.”

  Chapter 67

  Saturday, September 20, 2014

  CLAIRE HILLER watched her son Brian slap-shooting tennis balls at a net in the driveway. He was a pretty good hockey player, not the best on his team and probably not in the same league that Keenan Brody had been at that age. Brian didn’t have a future in hockey, but she hoped and expected he would go to college and get a good job. He would have a future. And now, thanks to her, Keenan Brody would as well. She hoped he deserved the second chance, but that really didn’t matter. They hadn’t proved he was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Or maybe they had. She only knew that what she had learned on the internet had scared her too much to allow her to convict him.

  That night in the middle of deliberations, while her husband watched TV, Claire Hiller had done something that she felt sure the judge would not have wanted her to do. She had googled “eyewitnesses and memory.” She kept telling herself that it wasn’t technically a violation of the judge’s instructions. He had told them not to look up anything to do with the case. She hadn’t googled Keenan Brody. She’d just done a little research of her own.

  She had learned that the studies that Dr. Lapitas had described were the tip of the iceberg. She read about all the people who were convicted on the basis of eyewitness identification and later exonerated by DNA evidence. The problem with the case against Keenan was that there was no DNA evidence to exonerate him or prove his guilt unequivocally. If they convicted him, he would spend the rest of his youth in jail. She just couldn’t do that to him. Not based on the evidence that had been presented in court.

  Claire had hoped the other jurors would get to the same place on their own, but the next morning when they voted, it seemed they were going the other direction. What had been a vote of six to six the night before became a vote of seven to five in favor of conviction. By that point, they were all on a first-name basis. People just wanted to be done and Tony was pretty persuasive. She held her tongue until after lunch when the vote was eight to four in favor of conviction.

  Then, she had
done something she didn’t know she was capable of doing. She started standing up for Keenan.

  “I know you all want to get out of here, but there’s something fishy about the way the police handled the investigation,” Claire said.

  “I thought Officer Shores seemed honest,” Kathy said.

  “I’m not questioning his integrity,” Claire said. “But I think there’s something to this memory stuff. I think that eyewitnesses alone are just not reliable enough.”

  “I believed them,” Tony said. He reminded Claire of a football player in her high school class who had always seemed like a bully.

  “That’s exactly what the doctor guy said.” Claire sat up straighter. “That they would be believable because they believed it themselves, but that doesn’t mean it happened.”

  “Sounds like a load of crap.” Tony crossed his arms. “They’re not going to make up witnessing an assault. My cousin got date raped. Nobody believed her, and the guy got away with it.”

  “I’m sorry about your cousin,” Claire said. “But this is different. You have to wonder why the witnesses didn’t report the assault when she was first missing.” Claire said.

  “They forgot,” Tony said.

  “Really? What if they didn’t remember because it wasn’t planted in their memories yet? Just like the doctor said.”

  “You believed him?”

  “I do. I’m not going to convict this kid.”

  “You didn’t seem so firm about this yesterday,” Tony said.

  “I thought a lot about it last night.”

  “But what about that video?” Craig said. “You saw him beat up that guy on the ice.”