The Trial

by Robert Whitlow

  “Just a minute,” Judy said. “We want to talk with you.”

  Mac stopped and turned around. “Don’t get upset. I was going to check my desk for a second.”

  “Your desk hasn’t moved in years,” Judy responded. “I heard on the radio this morning that Ray Morrison was in the hospital in Atlanta.

  What’s going on?”

  “And don’t drag it out,” Mindy added. “You need to return a call from Sarah Hightower.”

  “Okay. Do you want the truth, the whole truth, or nothing but the truth?”

  “All of the above,” David piped in.

  Mac told them about the purple car, Dr. Newburn’s unfolding involvement with the murder as Spencer’s bag man, and the attempt on Ray’s and Harry’s lives.

  When he finished, David said, “I knew Newburn was not truthful on the stand.”

  “Maybe more untruthful than we suspected,” Mac said. “Somehow Spencer drew him into this thing and ordered him around like a household servant.”

  “Don’t forget to call Mrs. Hightower,” Mindy reminded.

  “We’ll wait here while you talk to her,” Vicki said.

  “Are any of you going to work today?” he asked.

  “No,” they said in unison.

  Mac dialed the number on the slip of paper.

  “Mrs. Hightower?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mac McClain.”

  “Uh, yes. Thanks for calling. I was wondering if you could give a message to your client.”

  “What is it?”

  “Tell him thank you. The doctors say Alex will be able to have the transplant within the next seven to ten days.”

  “All right.”

  “Also,” she paused, “Alex wants to meet Peter and thank him in person.”

  “That will be up to the law enforcement authorities.”

  “Of course. But it can probably be arranged. We had a long meeting with the detectives about an hour ago. I’ll let my husband tell you about it.”

  Mac covered the receiver with his hand. “Alex Hightower wants to talk to me.”

  Another voice came on the line. It was Alex. “Mr. McClain,” he said weakly. “The police believe Dr. Newburn is the one who had Angela murdered and tried to kill me, too.”

  Mac was shocked. “But I thought it was Spencer.”

  “No, no. We found out this morning that Dr. Newburn has been embezzling money from Spencer’s trust for years. I have a testamentary trust that provides if my family is dead all my money goes into Spencer’s trust. With us gone, Newburn would control everything as surviving trustee.”

  “Have the police arrested Newburn?”

  “They went to his house, but he wasn’t there.”

  Dr. Louis Newburn transferred planes in Miami. Wearing a black hairpiece and carrying a forged passport, he would be in Belize, a small English-speaking country in Central America, by 11:00 A.M. EST. He chose Belize because he had opened a bank account there shortly after Cecil Hightower’s death. Currently, the amount on deposit totaled $17,894,253—all of it money methodically siphoned from the Spencer Hightower Trust. He had hoped to multiply the balance tenfold with funds from Alexander Hightower’s family, but he was resigned to his fate. He would travel around the Caribbean for a few years before returning to the U.S. for temporary visits. Things could have been a lot worse.

  Friday morning a deputy slid open the door to Pete’s cell with a clang. It was time for him to go to the courthouse for the hearing on the motion for a new trial.

  “Maybe I’ll see you later,” Cal said. “If I don’t, thanks for everything.”

  “Whatever happens, I’ll be back.”

  Pete’s heart began beating faster as soon as he walked through the doorway into the familiar room. He stared for a moment at the empty jury box, flashed back to the moment when Lyman Bakersfield solemnly announced the guilty verdict, and shuddered.

  Mac and David sat in their usual seats at the defense table. Joe Whetstone and his staff didn’t bother to make the trip from Atlanta, so Bert Langley was alone at the prosecution table. A few other courthouse employees slipped in the back door. Everyone stood when Judge Danielson came out of his office.

  “Please be seated,” the judge said.

  Bert stepped forward. “Call State versus Thomason, Case number 76932. Defendant’s Motion for New Trial.”

  “Proceed, Mr. McClain.”

  Reports from the Atlanta Police Department in hand, Mac outlined the events since Pete’s conviction.

  The judge turned to Bert. “What is the State’s position?”

  Pete held his breath. The next moment would be the difference between freedom and years of appeals while he sat locked up in a prison cell.

  “We do not oppose the motion,” Bert said. “The State is aware of additional investigative information that supports Mr. McClain’s position and does not intend to retry Mr. Thomason on these charges if the motion is granted.”

  The judge motioned toward the men seated at the defense table. “Mr. Thomason, come forward.”

  Mac and David flanked Pete in front of the bench.

  The judge said, “Having reviewed the information attached to the motion and considered the argument of counsel for the defendant, the court finds that significant new evidence indicates Mr. Thomason did not commit the crime for which he was tried and convicted. I therefore grant defendant’s motion and order him released from custody upon his own recognizance.”

  That was it. Pete was free. Tears welled in his eyes in contradiction to the smile that burst forth on his face. Tears of joy and relief. Mac patted him on the shoulder, and Pete wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

  On the way back to the office, Mac turned to David.

  “Are you sorry about the judge’s ruling?” he asked.

  David stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “What did you say?”

  “Are you sorry the judge set Pete free? It means I won’t be paying you five thousand dollars to handle the appeal.”

  David laughed. “I’ll eat out less often.”

  “I have a better idea,” Mac said. “In fact, it’s an offer you can’t refuse.”

  “You’ll buy my lunch at Josie’s every week?”

  “No. You know the back room at the office?”

  “The one you use for closed-file storage?”

  “Yes. I’m going to rent a miniwarehouse and move out the filing cabinets. With a fresh coat of paint and new carpet, the room could be a nice law office. It has a window that gives a good view of the pecan tree on the west side of the building. I think you would enjoy it. I’ll even throw in a new desk.”

  David’s grin broadened. “Two conditions.”

  “What?”

  “Spring water in the refrigerator and Josie’s once a week.”

  Mac stepped off the curb. “I think I can handle that, even if I have to work a little harder myself.”

  Judy, Vicki, and Mindy had prepared brunch at Mac’s office. After his release from jail, Pete was sitting in the library eating his third waffle topped with fresh strawberries when Anna Wilkes arrived. She was followed by Ray Morrison, who looked no worse for his experiences in Atlanta, and Harry O’Ryan, who offered to show his “bionic ear” to anyone willing to give him a quarter. He had no takers, and the bandage covering the right side of his head stayed in place.

  After everyone had eaten and the conversation in the room died down, Pete spoke up. “I’d like to thank everyone,” he said, and then stopped at the collective sight of the faces of the people who had given so much to help him—Mac, David, Anna, Ray, Harry, and Mac’s office staff who labored behind the scenes. Pent-up emotions flowed from almost every pair of eyes in the room. Even Ray allowed himself a sniffle. When he could continue, Pete said, “Thank you, thank you.” Turning to Mac, he said, “What can I say? ”

  Mac took two steps forward and gave him a bear hug. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  48

  There are
three things that are too amazing for me, four that I do not understand: the way of an eagle in the sky, the way of a snake on a rock, the way of a ship on the high seas, and the way of a man with a maiden.

  PROVERBS 30:18–19 (NIV)

  Ten days later, David drove Pete to Atlanta for admission to Piedmont Hospital. Based on results from an MRI, CAT scan, and angiogram, Dr. Banforth had selected Pete’s left kidney for the operation. After he was settled in a room, Pete heard a tentative knock on the door.

  “Come in,” he said.

  It was Sarah Hightower.

  Pete spoke first. “Before you say anything, you know how sorry I am about Angela.”

  Sarah nodded sadly. “We know that. And somehow Alex and I will have to find the strength to go on without her. I’ve cried until there are no tears left.”

  Pete started to respond but stopped. There would be another time.

  Sarah said in a soft voice, “We want to ask your forgiveness for what we’ve put you through.”

  “You didn’t—”

  “No,” Sarah stopped him. “We weren’t right. And you offered to help Alex before you knew you would be set free.”

  “I want to do it,” Pete said simply.

  Sarah looked up into his face. “And we thank you.”

  The Saturday morning air had not seemed so pure and clean to Mac in years. He played with Flo and Sue and did a few household chores until it was time to go to Chattanooga. He picked up Anna for an afternoon drive in the mountains east of Dennison Springs.

  “Would you like to see my house?” he asked. “It’s just a few miles out of our way. I picked up my dirty clothes and washed the dishes this morning.”

  “Okay,” she smiled at him. “Especially if it’s neat.”

  “We’ll only stay for a few minutes.”

  He stopped the car at the bottom of the driveway so she could get a clear view of the whole house. “I like the way it’s positioned above everything around it,” she said.

  Mac opened the front door and ushered her into the great room with its fireplace. Anna gazed out the tall, clear windows that served as the canvas for the beauty of the mountain scene in the distance.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?’ Mac asked. “We could sit on the deck. There’s a nice view from the rear of the house as well.”

  Anna followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the counter while he measured the coffee into the basket. Mac glanced over, saw her, and quickly looked away.

  They walked out to the deck, and Mac released Flo and Sue so they could run unfettered for a few minutes. Anna laughed as the excited dogs bayed and chased one another out of sight, but not out of hearing.

  “This is a perfect place for them, isn’t it?”

  “They don’t bother anyone, and they’re free.”

  They sat and sipped their coffee in comfortable silence. Mac could not get the image of Anna leaning against the kitchen counter out of his mind. So like Laura, yet wonderfully different in her own unique way.

  “Anna,” he said, savoring the sound of her name, “you’ll never know the influence you have on me. Even today, I feel more alive than I have in years.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Mac took a breath. He felt awkward and bumbling. But determined.

  “I’ve also enjoyed getting to know Hunter. He’s a great kid. You’ve done well with him.”

  “Thanks.”

  They sat in silence for a few more moments.

  “Do you know I’m falling in love with you?” he asked.

  Anna faced him and returned his love with her eyes. “Yes, I do.”

  EPILOGUE

  I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.

  JOHN 17:26 (NIV)

  JANUARY 30

  The night before the wedding, Mac put on a warm jacket and went out on the deck. He’d returned home an hour earlier from a wonderful evening, a banquet where he and Anna were surrounded by friends and loved ones. Leaning against the railing and staring at the stars, he thought about the following day. He was happy, mostly.

  He went inside and climbed into bed. He fell asleep and dreamed. It was the usual nightmare. Tonight, it started in peace on a beautiful winter afternoon. Snow was on the ground, and Mac, Laura, and the boys were walking around the lake. The boys ran ahead and Mac looked down at Laura. Each time she breathed, a small puff of water vapor appeared in front of her face. Fascinated, he couldn’t stop watching the tiny clouds that formed out of nothing—each breath a separate proof of the miracle of life. She glanced up at him and smiled.

  His attention turned to his boys, and he remembered another day, years before, when they had made a snowman in the front yard of their home. It had taken all three of them to roll the largest ball the last few feet. Then, they worked together to lift the second ball and place it on top of the first. Finally, each of them contributed something from his personal belongings to the snowman’s head. Ben provided a pair of broken sunglasses with one lens missing. Zach donated a faded baseball cap. Mac added an old pipe that he’d never smoked.

  The scene shifted. Mac was in a hurry to take his family home from the snowy lake. They were all in the four-wheel-drive vehicle. Even asleep, he knew what was coming, but in his unconscious state he could not stop the projector from flashing the scenes that came before his eyes. He looked at the boys sitting in the backseat. They were watching falling flakes out the windows. Laura reached out and laid her hand on his shoulder. His heart beat faster, and he tried to turn his head away from the pictures that started coming faster and faster. The line between dream and reality blurred. Mac gripped the steering wheel, slammed his foot down on the brake pedal, and prepared to yell a silent scream.

  But instead of the familiar abyss of blood and blackness, Mac crashed into a realm of blinding light. As his eyes slowly grew accustomed to the brightness, he saw two figures walking steadily toward him. They stepped out of the light and stood before him.

  It was Ben and Zach.

  Without a doubt they were his sons. Mac devoured the vision of the only two people on earth who ever mirrored an image of himself. They were strong and handsome, with a maturity unknown even in those who aged many years on earth. They bore no hint of disappointment or regret that their days on earth had ended so early and abruptly. Their eyes reflected perfect peace. They were satisfied and complete.

  But how?

  Mac knew they heard his unspoken question, and the answer came without words directly to his own spirit. Ultimate fulfillment and happiness are not based on length of days on earth or achievements recognized by flesh and blood but through relationship with the One who has redeemed us for eternal communion with himself. His sons had entered into a different realm. They could not be marred by earth; they had been formed anew in heaven. They looked like him, but now, Mac wanted to look like them, to be transformed by the power of Jesus Christ.

  They lifted their hands in blessing and washed away Mac’s last reservations about the goodness of God. The impossible became possible. The incomprehensible became easy to understand. God causes all things to work together for good for those who love him, who are called according to his purpose. Ultimately, he would dry every tear, heal every hurt, restore everything that had been lost. Forever. His sons faded from view.

  Laura’s face took their place. She took his breath away. Even the minor imperfections of her natural appearance, though still present, were transformed into a graceful beauty. Her hair, her skin, her features, her eyes. Especially her eyes. She looked at him, and Mac saw the same love he’d seen in Anna’s eyes, only richer, deeper, stronger. Laura loved him. More now than when they were together on earth. And he had to ask the question; he had to know the truth. He could not betray the love in her eyes for someone else.

  Is it okay?

  Her steady gaze never wavered as s
he received his request into her heart. She smiled and gave a slight nod of her head. Peace and affirmation swept over his soul. But he remained puzzled. How could one who loved him so absolutely release him to love another without jealousy or reservation? Something wasn’t right. Once again, the answer came directly to his spirit. The closest relationships on earth, the best friendships, the most intimate marriages are dim reflections of the love that all the Father’s children have for one another in his kingdom.

  Mac was stunned. Someday he, Laura, and Anna would stand together with a vast host of God’s children and share a mutual, unhindered love that transcended imagination and time. He would love them, they would love him, they would love one another—completely, and for all eternity.

  He woke up and lay in bed replaying the vision again and again. He looked within the depths of his soul and knew that all was well. He was ready for tomorrow. Ready to live, ready to love.

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