The Defendant

by Chris Taylor

  The phone rang again and she picked up the receiver. “Josie Munro.”

  “Josie, it’s Moira. I have Detective Barrington on line three.”

  Josie’s heart lurched. Stealing a breath, she took the call. “Hi, Chase.”

  “Josie, I’m glad I caught you.”

  His familiar, deep tones triggered another flurry of nerves. He’d always had that effect on her, ever since high school when a chance meeting at an inter-school football game altered her world forever.

  She’d been seventeen. He was a year older. The charming smile, the teasing glint from his emerald-green eyes had catapulted her head over heels in love. Now she frowned at the memory and forced it from her mind. She was upset at Chase for so many reasons she might never feel kindly toward him again.

  “What is it, Chase?” Her tone was distinctly unfriendly.

  “It’s about Daniel Logan. His matter was mentioned in court today. His lawyer has requested Daniel undergo a psychological assessment and the request has been granted. The prosecutor has contacted me. He wants you to do an assessment for the Crown. As the defendant, Daniel has a right to silence, but if the defense seeks to present a psych report, in the interests of fairness, the Crown will also tender one.”

  “Why me? I’m sure there are plenty of psychologists more qualified. Have you called anyone in Grafton?” she said, referring to the nearby city that was four times as big as Watervale.

  “No. I want you.”

  Josie’s heart leaped into her throat and then she silently cursed under her breath. Did he mean…? She couldn’t fall for that. It wasn’t possible he felt the same way she did. Besides, she was mad at him. She refused to yearn for things to be different.

  “I-I’m not sure I’m the best person for the job. I’ve never—”

  “Daniel’s mother called me. She asked me about you. She wanted to know who you were. Daniel’s barely spoken since your initial interview, but he’s been asking for you. Apart from the doli incapax issue, the prosecutor wants your report to include an opinion on whether the boy’s fit to stand trial.”

  “Doli what? I don’t have a clue what that means. Like I told you, I’ve never done any court work before.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound pompous.”

  He sounded genuinely apologetic and Josie modified her tone. “So, what does it mean?”

  “Doli incapax is a Latin term that means incapable of criminal intention or malice. The law presumes a child under the age of fourteen doesn’t know their actions might be wrong in a criminal sense, such as shooting a man dead. It’s up to the prosecution to prove the child has the mental capacity to form this understanding. If they don’t, the case will be thrown out.”

  Josie closed her eyes and supported her head in her hands. The memories of that awful night, the memories Daniel could never erase, crowded her mind until she could barely hear the rest of what Chase said. The bleak desperation, the fear, the uncertainty in the young boy’s eyes—it broke her heart anew.

  “I know you think I had a choice in laying charges against the boy, but the fact is I—”

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” she said, cutting him off, not wanting to hear his explanation. “When do you need it?”

  “The matter’s been stood over for a couple of months to enable both parties time to obtain their reports. Right now, he’s out on bail. I believe he’s at home…with his family.”

  The way his voice trailed off, Josie knew he wanted to say something more, but after taking down the contact details of Daniel and his mother, she forced herself to end the call. She understood that Chase had only been doing his job, but she didn’t have to like it. Besides, she was still angry at him for not bothering to explain his abrupt departure from her life. As much as she wished it were different, the hurt he’d caused just wouldn’t go away.

  * * *

  Trevor Logan tilted the beer glass toward his mouth and emptied it. He swiped at the froth left behind on his lips and promptly ordered another. He’d been at The Bullet since the sun had gone down. It was now going on for ten. His eyes had long since blurred over and his legs just wouldn’t move like they should. But no matter how drunk he got, the pain just wouldn’t go away. Even the alcohol taunted him.

  Every time he closed his eyes, he replayed the scene in his head. He might not have witnessed the attack, but the police gave him enough details of what had happened and the rest he’d pieced together.

  It had been morning before they’d reached him. He’d been on the road for twelve hours and had pulled into a truck stop for the night. He’d turned off the two-way, set his alarm for six and then settled down to sleep. Three or four beers and some quiet music on his iPod usually did the trick.

  He’d spoken to Kelly and his boys before he’d gone to sleep and had then switched his phone off.

  He should have pushed harder to be home. If he’d been there, this never would have happened. His wife would be the happy, chirpy woman she’d always been and his boys would be driving him insane. Their rousing was always done with little rancor, but it happened all the same. Now, he would kill to see them rumble around. It would reassure him that his world hadn’t been tilted off its axis. It would assure him they were normal.

  Normal? Who was he fucking kidding? His family would never be normal again. They’d had the life torn out of them and ripped to shreds. To make things worse, he couldn’t even hunt down the animal who’d done it. The prick was dead and good riddance to the filthy scum, but Trevor couldn’t help but wish he’d been given the opportunity to put a bullet in the son of a bitch. He wouldn’t have stopped at just one.

  The bartender placed another glass in front of him and Trevor murmured his thanks. He reached for his wallet, but the barman stayed his hand.

  “It’s all right, mate. This one’s on me.”

  Trevor bit his lip against an immediate surge of anger, but merely nodded his thanks. The barman’s pity infuriated him. There was nowhere he could go to escape it. Everywhere he turned, people knew he was the husband of the woman who’d been raped by a monster fresh out of jail. They knew he was the father of the boy who’d murdered the prick.

  It wasn’t like they blamed Daniel for his actions. Most of them were more than happy to admit they’d have done exactly the same thing. But Trevor couldn’t help but notice the occasional frown sent his way, the look of calculation in the eyes of some of the men as they shook their heads and muttered that it wouldn’t have happened if he’d been there.

  As if he didn’t know that. As if it weren’t tearing him up inside, the guilt staring back at him every morning and weighing his gut down every night. He needed to be strong, for his wife, for his boys.

  The problem was, he couldn’t be. He couldn’t even look at them without imagining the horror of what had happened and that made him furious all over again. Not at them, never at them, but he couldn’t be near them, either. He didn’t want to punish them, but he had to stay away. For the very sake of his sanity which he was barely clinging to, he had to stay away.

  * * *

  At the other end of the scarred wooden bar, Chase took a sip of his drink. The single malt whiskey slid down his throat in a ribbon of smooth, liquid fire. Try as he might, his thoughts kept circling back to Josie and he couldn’t help the yearning that filled him. If only things had turned out differently… If only the timing hadn’t been so bad.

  The day after he’d met her at the football game, he’d called her and asked her out. She’d lived in Grafton, a couple of hours away, but the distance didn’t deter him. He’d known from the very first instant that she would be his, forever. Besides, he’d turned eighteen and had a license. He’d even saved enough to buy a cheap car. He didn’t care how much the fuel cost or how many miles he drove, he couldn’t get enough of her.

  Of course, they were both still in school and in reality, their meetings were mostly confined to the weekends. Even then, those were fitted in around sporting engagements, dance lessons
and other things.

  They made it even more difficult for themselves by choosing to keep their love a secret. Josie had five very protective older brothers and her father was a District Court judge. Not that Chase let that daunt him, but he agreed with her just the same: It would be easier if they didn’t tell anyone, at least, not until after they’d finished school.

  They emailed and texted and spent hours talking on the phone. Chase told his mother he was dating a girl in his class. Josie’s parents thought she was spending time with her girlfriends.

  It killed Chase not to take her as his date to his high school graduation, but Josie told him it was for the best. Her father was not at all keen for her to have a boyfriend. She was seventeen, but still very much his little girl. He urged her to concentrate on her studies, finish high school and perhaps after that, when she went to university, she could look at dating.

  For twelve more months, they kept their relationship a secret. Chase had been accepted into the Goulburn Police Academy and spent much of his time hours and hours away. Still, his love for Josie didn’t waver and he longed for the day he could tell her family and the world his true feelings. When she asked him to be her date to her high school graduation, he’d been over the moon.

  She told him her family had been surprised at her choice, not having even heard of Chase Barrington. They wondered aloud how the two of them had met and were satisfied with vague references to high school. Besides, Chase was on his way to a career in policing, and law enforcement ran thick through Munro veins. By then, all of Josie’s older brothers were serving police officers. Her father had given his tacit nod of approval.

  Memories of that magical night swamped him and emotion burned behind his eyes. He’d never seen Josie look more beautiful. When she’d whispered shyly that she wanted him to make love to her, he thought he might combust from the heat of his desire. Until then, their relationship had remained purely platonic. He’d wanted her to be sure and wanted her first time to be special.

  And it had been. It was his first time, too. They’d made love and it had been as beautiful as he’d imagined. Afterwards, he’d kissed her and held her and promised one day he’d make her his. They’d even talked about their children and had gently argued over names. They’d agreed to meet with her parents the next day and confide in them their secret. Chase had been counting the hours.

  And then tragedy struck and for him, it was all over. One moment he was head over heels in love and planning a forever future with the girl of his dreams and the next he was flat on his back in a hospital bed, his whole world turned on its head.

  Even now, he couldn’t think about it, didn’t want to think about it. Life had knocked him down and he’d dealt with it the best way he could, the only way he could. At least, that’s how he’d felt at the time. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  Seeing Josie again had stirred up so many long-buried memories and with them, excruciating guilt. But not only guilt, there was also uncertainty. Had he made the right decision when he walked away from her all those years ago? He couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if he’d told her the truth.

  A soft, warm body pressed against him and he blinked to clear his head. A woman in her early twenties smiled at him and flicked back her glossy brown hair. She had a body meant to drive men crazy and her cherry red lips were full and open in invitation.

  She put a manicured hand on his arm and leaned in, making sure he noticed her impressive breasts. It was hard not to. They were barely contained in some kind of black, lacy mesh and for an instant, his body stirred.

  Once upon a time, not so very long ago, she would have caught his interest. After all, one night stands were his specialty—nothing permanent required. No commitment offered or sought. Just a few moments of reciprocated pleasure before both parties moved on in the morning.

  But after seeing Josie again, knowing that she was in town, not even the pretty young starlet who looked like she’d stepped off a Hollywood movie set could tempt him. She pressed against him again and asked him to buy her a drink. Her voice was low and throaty, but he politely shook his head no. Tactfully angling his body away from hers, he finished his drink and set the glass back down on the bar.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m flattered, but I’m not the man for you. Trust me.” Ignoring the flash of disappointment in her eyes, he left the bar, cursing himself and Josie Munro every step of the way.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Josie stared at the woman and her son seated across from her. It had been two days since she’d spoken to Chase and then had made the call to Kelly Logan. It was obvious Daniel and his mother weren’t faring well. Josie’s greeting to him a few moments earlier had gone largely ignored and his mother’s response was only slightly better.

  Kelly Logan looked like she was in her late thirties. Though her shoulder-length brown hair hung lank around her face, her skin was clear and well maintained. Remnants of nail polish remained on her fingers, evidence of an earlier manicure. Once upon a time, a time before the assault, she’d been a woman who took care of herself. Swallowing a sigh, Josie tried again to establish a connection.

  “Mrs Logan, thank you for coming in and for bringing Daniel to see me. I explained a little of the reason for your visit when we spoke on the phone.”

  “Yes, you did. Something about the prosecutor wanting a report.”

  “That’s right. Daniel’s lawyer has arranged for him to be assessed by a psychologist. It’s normal procedure for the Crown to do the same. The purpose of the report is twofold. The prosecutor has asked me to assess Daniel’s fitness to stand trial. He’s a little concerned your son may still be too traumatized to deal with the reality of a hearing and to provide his lawyer with adequate instructions. The other purpose is to determine whether Daniel knew what he was doing was wrong.”

  The woman’s frown was fierce. “Of course he knew it was wrong. Do you think we’ve raised our boys to be lawless animals?”

  Josie hurried to explain. “Of course not, Mrs Logan. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give you that impression. I’m sure Daniel’s a good boy. I’m sure he knows right from wrong. What I’m talking about has to do with how the law perceives these things.

  “Doli incapax is a term the law uses when dealing with children under the age of fourteen. A child between the ages of ten and fourteen can be charged with a criminal offence, but the burden rests on the prosecution to prove the child knew what he was doing was wrong.”

  Kelly Logan opened her mouth again and Josie hurried on. “Not merely in a naughty sense or something for which he might be punished, but wrong in a criminal sense. It’s an important distinction. If the Crown fails to prove Daniel’s mens rea—his mindset—in a criminal sense, the case against him will be dismissed and the charges will be dropped.”

  Hope flared in the woman’s tortured eyes. “Really? They could drop the whole thing? H-how likely is that to happen?”

  Josie swallowed a sigh and answered as honestly as she could. “I don’t know. It depends upon Daniel. I interviewed him the night it happened. He recounted a set of events. Based upon this, he was charged with murder. I don’t know if the interview will be admissible. That’s for the court to decide. It’s my job to dig a little deeper, to find out exactly what he thought at the time of the offense, how he felt, what made him act the way he did. My recommendation to the court will depend upon my findings.”

  Daniel’s mother stared at Josie with eyes that had been through more than anyone should have to bear. Quiet tears slid down her cheeks. Josie bit her lip against the surge of emotion that tightened her chest and made breathing difficult.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs Logan,” she whispered. “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Of course you don’t. No one does. Not even me. I close my eyes, I try to sleep, but all I see is him. I hear him. I feel him. I—”

  “Mrs Logan,” Josie interrupted and stole a look in Daniel’s direction. She was relieved to find him
staring blankly at the wall beside him, his head turned sideways, away from them. He appeared oblivious to his mother’s quiet but furious outburst.

  Josie reached across her desk and placed her hand over Kelly’s. “Mrs Logan, you need to seek some professional help. Please tell me you’re seeing someone.”

  The woman closed her eyes as if to block out the pain. Her hand fisted under Josie’s. “Th-the nurse at the hospital put me in touch with a counselor. D-Diane something or other. She came to see me while I was there, in the hospital, that first night.”

  Josie nodded. “Have you seen her since?”

  Kelly shook her head. “No. I-I can’t even think about it, let alone talk about it.”

  “I know how you feel, and believe me, it’s perfectly normal, but talking about it will help you heal, it will help you release the burden of anger and guilt. These emotions are perfectly normal, but they will consume you from the inside out if you don’t do anything about this.”

  The woman stared up at her with a hard expression. “You know how I feel? How in heavens name would you know? Have you ever been ra—?”

  “No, but I’ve been a psychologist for a number of years. I know what I’m talking about. I know the effects of trauma and how to help people deal with them.”

  Anger flashed in Kelly’s eyes. She snorted in disgust. “You’ve learned it out of books. That’s what you mean to say. You don’t know what it’s like, how it feels. You don’t have a clue. You don’t go to bed too scared to turn out the light, wondering… Knowing it won’t happen again, sure it won’t happen again, but not really believing it.”

  Josie blinked back tears. The woman was right. She didn’t know. She couldn’t even imagine how it felt and she prayed she never would. Guilt surged through her at the thought.

  “You’re right, Mrs Logan, I don’t know how it feels, but that doesn’t mean that I or some other therapist of your choice can’t help you.”