“Yeah, his nineteenth.”
“You and I have been here a very long time, my friend, a very long time.”
Cynthia rested her book on her chest. “We have, nearly twenty years for me. I don’t think I’ll be around for much longer, though.”
“Why? Are you sick?”
“No, no, I’m fine.”
“Well, did you hear something?”
“Yeah, I did. Turns out they’ve scheduled my execution for some time next year.”
“Oh, Cynthia, listen, I’m sorry. What else can you do? What does your lawyer say?”
“He says we’ll attempt to seek clemency from the governor. Realistically, it’s not likely we’ll be able to get him to commute my sentence.”
“I’m sorry, girl.”
“Me, too.”
“So, basically, you’re just waiting.”
“Yeah…waiting to die.”
“No, don’t say that. There’s still a chance that things can change.”
“I appreciate your positive outlook, Patty, but I always knew that this day would come. I just have to cherish what time I have left and hope to see another one of his birthdays.”
Cynthia’s eyes glazed over. She knew that it was unconscionable what she’d done to the man she’d called a friend, a man who’d shown her nothing but kindness.
“What did you do to Freddy, Ms. Kessler?”
“I tricked him.”
“Tricked him how?”
“I lured him.”
“Lured?”
“Yes, I lured him into a tra...” she replied, her voicing trailing off. The troubled woman had begun to stare off into space.
“Ms. Kessler, I need you to focus!”
“Yes...yes, I’m sorry.”
“Freddy had become a threat, hadn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“So you eliminated that threat?”
She nodded in the affirmative.
“Okay, then. Now, tell me exactly what happened.” Dr. Danzell listened attentively as she began to divulge the grizzly details of her crimes.
NO turning back now. Cynthia was putting her plan into action.
“Pearl, are you sure you can keep the baby tonight? My girlfriend sounded really awful over her breakup.”
The woman collected the baby and his things from the young mother. “Girl, please, you know that I adore this little angel. Go be with your friend. Lord knows those are hard to come by these day.”
“Thanks again. I’ll call later to check on him. I’ll check periodically.”
“Don’t you worry about a thing. Now, scoot.”
Cynthia drove outside the county, miles away from the city. She took any number of back roads, places no one would think to look or be. When she got to her destination, she popped the hood then exited her car. Thinking herself clever, Cynthia loosened the black battery cable with a pair of pliers before attempting to restart the ignition. Nothing. It was time to reach out for help.
She pulled out the burner phone she’d purchased off the black market. Dialing. “Hello, Freddy, it’s me. I need your help.”
“My help? Where are you? It’s getting late.”
“I don’t know. I’m stuck somewhere in Browns Country, I think.”
“Browns County? What you are doing way out there? That’s no-man’s land. Nothing but trees and wildlife.”
“I got lost, Freddy, and now I’m stuck.”
“This doesn’t make any sense, girl. I have no way of tracking you. Do you see any crossroads, any signs or landmarks that would help me get to you?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on Old Darby Road. There’s some old barn off the road before you get to me. It should still be visible by the time you get here.
“Okay, well, sit tight. I’m on my way.”
“Thanks, Freddy.”
Since he lived further in the city, it took Freddy an hour to get to her. It was still light out, enough of day remained for him to get her up and running. When he pulled up, Cynthia was inside the car, fidgeting. He knocked on the driver side window and she opened the door.
Cynthia smiled at the sight of the man. “Thanks again for coming to my rescue. I think it just might be the battery.”
“Was it driving fine and just killed on you?”
“Yeah, I guess I should have checked into it before I got on the road. I had trouble getting it to start the other day, but it eventually did. I didn’t think about it anymore until now.”
“That’s a battery for you. Go ahead and crank the ignition. Let’s see what we get.”
Cynthia cranked, but it wouldn’t start.
“I think you might be right,” he said to her. “I’ve got some jumper cables in the car. I’ll give you a boost. In the meantime, remove the keys and popped the hood”
Minutes later, Freddy emerged from his truck with cables then disappeared under her hood.
“Looks like one of your cabled is loose,” he said to her after a quick inspection. “Let me grab a wrench or something from my truck. This might be our culprit.”
“Oh, okay. I’m going to step out and have a smoke then.”
“I didn’t know that you smoked.”
“Been trying to quit. It’s an awful habit, but very satisfying.”
An unsuspecting Freddy was tightening the cable on the battery when Cynthia, now wearing a pair of latex gloves, slipped about 5 feet behind him and pulled the trigger three times, the bullets hitting him in his most vital areas. After taking shooting lessons a few years back, she’d become a proficient marksman. A woman her age, after all, could never be too safe, but this was something of another matter. It was all so cold and calculated…so very deadly.
Afterwards, Cynthia carefully collected the empty shell casings then set out to complete her road trip, having left Freddy to die in a pool of blood. Turns out the college student did have a girlfriend out that way, about twenty miles south. Getting that terrible call from Ashley the day before merely set things in motion. Over the phone, Cynthia had promised that she’d visit over the weekend, that the two would stay up all night and binge on old movies and junk food. Both Pearl and Ashley would go on to corroborate her whereabouts. By all accounts, Cynthia had gone where she said she’d been.
“Ms. Kessler, you do understand that because of what you’ve done, you are facing a charge of first-degree murder. And you are going to have to relive this story over again in court.”
“I know, doc.”
“It will be up to your defense to convince the jury that you were absent of any reasonable thinking or rationale at the time of your crimes. I just want you to understand.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“My job will be to give the court a fair, unbiased mental assessment. A jury of your peers will determine your fate.”
She and the baby were sleeping soundly when the pounding on the front door woke them, the loud and incessant banging having frightened Baby Asher and stirred his cries.
“Ms. Kessler, open up, it’s the police.”
Cynthia scooped the baby up from his crib and nestled him in blankets before approaching the entrance to the apartment. “What is this about?” she said through the door.
An officer answered, “We just need you to open your door, ma’am, or we’ll be forced to open it ourselves.”
“No need for that.” Cynthia then opened the door to sight of three male officers.
Once they entered her apartment, Cynthia singled out the shortest of the three to engage in dialogue, believing him to be less threatening. “I’m sorry, officer, what’s this about?”
“Ms. Kessler, we have reason to believe that you can shed some information about the killing of Freddy Mitchell. You do know, Freddy, correct?”
“I do. We worked together.”
“His body was discovered three days ago in Browns County.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Ma’am, you were one of the last people seen with him before his death.�
��
“Seen with him? Where?”
“Surveillance video captured a little over two weeks ago from St. Michael’s parking garage shows that the two of you had an altercation of some sort.”
“And?”
“And we are here to take you in for questioning.”
“This is crazy! What about my kid?” By now, Asher had again fallen asleep in his mother’s arms.
“Ma’am, is there someone you can call to keep him?”
Cynthia could think of only one person. “Yes.”
“Then you should arrange to have this person come over right away,” the officer said to her.
It took Pearl only twenty minutes to arrive at Cynthia’s place. Before her friend left the apartment with the baby, Cynthia assured Pearl that she’d explain everything later and repeatedly thanked her for seeing after her child.
“What now?” Cynthia asked of the officer.
“Now we head to the station, ma’am.”
“Is this really necessary?”
“I’m afraid so.”
What had been no more than thirty minutes of isolation felt like hours to Cynthia, as she sat in a detention room at the station. The whole while she thought only about Asher. She wondered if he was okay with Pearl? She needed to be reunited with her child.
When the door finally opened, a female of medium height, tanned skin, and brunette hair stood in the frame. She seated herself across the table from Cynthia. “Ms. Kessler, I’m Detective Lauren Richards. I’m the lead on this case.”
“How long am I going to be here?” asked Cynthia, little concerned about the identity of the woman.
“Just long enough for us to ask you a few questions. By the way, do you mind if I call you Cynthia?”
“No, that’s fine.”
“Listen, Cynthia, woman to woman, I’m just trying to do my job here, can you understand that?
“Yeah.”
“Good. To do my job, I’ll need your cooperation. So, the sooner you answer my questions, the sooner you’ll be able to get home to your baby, okay?”
Cynthia released a long sigh before replying, “Fine, what do you want to know?”
“I need you to tell me about the day that video was taken.”
“Oh, I see how you guys are playing this. They send you in here to try to appeal to my feminine sensibilities. Then before you know, I’ve said something to incriminate myself. I’m no fool, detective. I want a lawyer,” the frightened girl said. “I don’t have to say another thing without having a lawyer present.”
“Ma’am, no one’s playing any games here. This is simply routine questioning during an investigation. No one has accused you of anything. No one has brought any charges against you. We just need whatever information you can provide to help us catch Freddy’s killer.”
“I told you people what I knew at the apartment. I worked with Freddy. He was good to me and my son.”
“And the parking garage incident?”
“What about it?”
“Well, you looked upset. You both did. Did he saying something to you that would make you upset?”
“This is no routine questioning, detective. You’re here to skewer me. I’m not saying another word until I can get a lawyer, you got that?!”
“Very well, Ms. Kessler, but we will get to the bottom of all of this. In cases like these, we usually do.”
“Your trial is a week from today, Ms. Kessler. Are you nervous?”
“No, not really.”
The doctor had a curious look on his face. “So, you’re good? No worries about the outcome?”
“Not really.”
“Why such confidence?”
“I think they will understand.”
“Who, the jury?”
“Yes, the jury, the judge, anybody in that court.”
“I see. Why do you think that?”
“Well, I did all of this to try to save someone, to release a man from his bonds.”
“Ms. Kessler, Dr. Arubé died without your aid, but you did kill an innocent man to cover up your attempt.”
“Yes, Freddy ended up being collateral damage, but I don’t think he will be missed.”
“That’s awfully cold, Ms. Kessler.”
“I’m not trying to be insensitive, doc, but the truth is Freddy had no close family. Nobody will be crying in that courtroom for their loss over him. No one will suffer the anguish of having to live without him. The jury will see this.”
Dr. Danzell wrote a series of notes on his writing pad before answering, “I think that’s all I’ll need from you. We’ll not meet anymore beyond today.” He then raised from the table and extended his hand. “Good-bye, Ms. Kessler.”
Cynthia would eat only a portion of her last meal. When she made the request, it seemed befitting to have a final meal in honor of the professor. Today, she had little taste for it. Instead, she pushed the half-eaten tray of grilled lamb chops, asparagus, and rice pilaf aside and began to thumb through her makeshift library of books. She’d finally scored her very own copy of the Art of War. Looking back over these last twenty years, it all seemed so futile that she had employed principles of strategy to manipulate others.
She then removed a notebook from the library. In it were random entries, handwritten recordings about her days in prison. Today’s entry, one that would be her last, would serve a far greater purpose than of the usual journal postings. Though unaware at the time of his murder, Cynthia learned that Freddy had an estranged sister. Her lawyer had recently been able locate and contact the woman. Sending the sister this letter would be Cynthia’s way of making amends. The words she wrote on a slip of notebook paper were these:
Dear Barbara:
You’ve never met me, but I knew your brother quite well. We worked together for several months. He was a good friend to me. I was not good to him in return. What I did to him, having committed so senseless an act, is unforgivable. I dare not ask you for forgiveness. I’ve sought you out with the sole purpose to express my remorse. It is with a heavy heart that I must pen this letter. It is with an even heavier heart that I leave you without a brother. I wrestle everyday with this and what I’ve done.
I don’t know what circumstances that lead to your estrangement from Freddy, but I want you to know that he was a good man, a fair man, and took care of me and my son. I know that my actions removed any chance, any opportunity of reuniting. I know that I thought so little of his life at the time that I don’t deserve to have my own. I deserve only my punishment. And by the time that you receive this letter, it will have been exacted.
My only hope now is that you can find solace in knowing that I do regret what I have done, that I make no excuses for it, and that I wish for you only peace.
Cynthia
After folding the letter and sealing it in an envelope, two guards appeared. “It’s time, Kessler. The priest is here.”
Cynthia handed one of the guards the envelope as she stood to be shackled. “Please see to it that my lawyer gets this. It’s important.”
“You’ll have a full hour with the priest, as requested. You should make it count.”
“At this point, does it matter?”
“That’s between you and the priest. Okay, let’s go.”
The C-block of St. James Women’s Correctional Facility shock with thunderous clanking and a boisterous round of send-offs.
“See you on the other side, Kessler,” an inmate said to her as she walked pass.
Another shouted, “When I get out, I’ll drink one in your honor, CK.”
“Peace with be with you, CK,” offered yet another. Though it had been contentious at the beginning, she had earned their respect over the years.
When she arrived, the priest was seated quietly at the table. The guards then seated her across from him before positioning themselves at opposite corners of the room. The silence between the two seemed to linger until Cynthia pushed pass the silence—those unspoken moments—and found the words.
&n
bsp; “What of the child, my dear?” It was the first time the priest had uttered anything during my final hour before execution.
“Yes, my son, Asher. I’m not sure. After everything went down, he was taken from me and made a ward of the state. I can only hope that he’s been in good care. He would be nearly twenty-one now. Oh, how I wish I could see his beautiful face just one last time, to look upon those big brown, tender eyes. I’d give any—”
Suddenly, one of the guards in the room interrupted, “Ten minutes,” she said. That was what remained of my life on earth. Ten minutes.
“Priest, I wanted you to hear my story so that you could share it with others. Let them know the dangers of getting caught up in one’s own pleasures, the consequences of it all. My life can’t be saved, but maybe someone else’s can. My only wish now is to atone for my sins so that my soul might find rest in eternal peace?”
“My child, your misdeeds were atoned long before you or I ever came to be. The greatest of sacrifices was made so that this everlasting peace that you seek is within your reach. The one who made this sacrifice is called many names, but, in my faith, we know Him as Christ. Through your confession here today, you have taken the necessary step. I shall now offer the prayer of absolution on your behalf:
“Deus, Pater misericordiárum, qui per mortem et resurrectiónem Fílii sui mundum sibi reconciliávit et Spíritum Sanctum effúdit in remissiónem peccatórum, per ministérium Ecclésiæ indulgéntiam tibi tríbuat et pacem. Et ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii,+ et Spiritus Sancti.”
Tears streamed my face as the priest uttered the prayer. These were not the tears of having been overcome by some tremendous sense of peace. No, they were an expression of every emotion coursing through me at that moment. The gravity of what had just occurred between the priest and I weighed heavily on me, but the gravity of what was to come weighed the heaviest.
“It is done,” he then said to me. “You shall join Him in paradise. Now, go with God, my child, go with God.”
It was now time. The guards collected me and we began to make the long walk. As we approached my destination, it felt as though my heart would leap out of its chest cavity and spare me what awaited. My feet wanted to cement themselves to the floor, but they kept moving forward, slowly, but forward until we stood at the door of the room where my fate would be carried out.
Cynthia Kessler (Toy Obsession Series, Book 1) Page 7