Karen continued nodding. She and Geoff had a deep bond. After a couple years of working alongside her, she had become his most trusted confidante. He shared his fears, dreams, and personal matters with her. And although she kept to herself, she knew he was there for her as well. When Geoff secured the election and took control of the office, Karen was immediately promoted to his number two, where she kept him grounded and in check.
“Why not take the plea? Life in prison, some say, is even worse than lethal injection.”
“It’s the principle. Sure, he could rot in prison, but he killed thirteen people. I guarantee there are thirteen families that are tasting revenge for the first time in their lives. An eye for an eye.”
“You sure this isn’t about the governor race?” Karen asked with a smirk.
The seat for governor of Colorado was set to open up in 2018, and Geoff’s name had already been thrown into the mix by numerous local analysts. He was fed up with the Democrats running things and wanted to take the state back to its conservative roots.
“This isn’t about that.”
We’re going to be in the limelight. If we can get him executed, I’ll be a hero, and that would make for an easy campaign.
Geoff had absolutely had the governor race in mind, as soon as he heard about the shooting on Friday afternoon. Fighting for justice would be easy in such a case. He had worked on plenty of cases where the defendant had murdered just one person, and the jury never sympathized. A case this extreme would only make it easier to convince the jury that the death penalty was the only way to go.
“I’ll start prepping for a death penalty case and to counter an insanity plea,” Karen said as she stood and rapped her long fingers on Geoff’s desk before leaving his office. The district retained a death penalty specialist and they would need his services to prepare them for the trial.
Geoff returned his attention to his computer screen, shaking his head as he read the survivor accounts.
4
Chapter 4
Wednesday, March 15, 2016
Linda Kennedy hung up her phone and stared at her partner, Wilbert Dobbs, in disbelief.
“Who was that?” he asked in his croaky voice.
“That was Jeremy Heston’s father.”
“Heston? The office shooter?”
“Yeah. He asked me to defend his son. Said he doesn’t wanna see him executed.”
“Can they even afford you?”
“I told him my rate and estimated the whole trial could take a year, possibly more. He said he has the money.”
Wilbert leaned back in the chair facing Linda’s desk and scratched his chin. His life’s work had taken its toll, creating bags under his eyes, wrinkles across his face, and turned his hair into a snowy white. He’d founded the defense firm almost forty years ago and had seen every type of case and client imaginable.
As he pushed into his late seventies, Wilbert had started to take a smaller role in the courtroom, and worked more as an adviser to his team of attorneys. They had the energy and drive; he had the wisdom. That combination helped his firm win dozens of cases each year. A case like this, however, might be enough for him to polish his shoes and get back in the game.
“There’s only one way out of this: insanity.” He spoke confidently.
“Why should I even take this?” she asked. “There will be so many other cases to work on during the time this one case will take. I could be helping people who actually need it.”
“Now, now, Linda. You have to look at the big picture here. Sure, he’s guilty and everyone knows it. But think of the exposure. This case will be covered every night on the news. Your face will be all over. Avoiding the death penalty will be huge for your career. You’ll have clients lining up around the block.”
“We have no problem getting clients. We already have a rock-solid reputation.”
“Then do it for the challenge. You’re young still; you can handle this. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. What if you actually got him off on insanity? It’s a moonshot of a chance, but it’s like the lottery: someone has to win it. I’ve won two cases in my life on insanity. It’s truly an art to be able to convince twelve people to acquit someone based on an invisible science, when there’s hard evidence right in front of them. I’ll help you. I may even join your team if you’ll have me.”
He grinned as he looked her straight in the eye. She still looked great for forty-five, despite the silver streaks in her reddish hair. She stared back at Wilbert, her long face crunched in deep thought.
“Well, if you put it that way, what can I say?” Linda smiled. She had never worked on a trial with Wilbert, not directly at least. She had shadowed him in her early days with the firm, and assisted with trial preparation. But trying a case together had never been a possibility. But now, with her established as one of the best defense attorneys in town and him slowly on his way out, this might be her last chance to work with him.
“It won’t be an easy case,” Wilbert said, sitting up straight. “Batchelor is gunning for that governor seat and I guarantee he’ll see this case as his golden ticket. Put the mass murderer on Death Row, win the hearts of the public, and even personally see to it that he isn’t pardoned once elected.”
“You’re right. He’ll never take a plea.”
“No way. This could end up being a nationally televised trial. How often do these mass shooters hang around to face the music? Never. They always kill themselves—but not this guy. You have to be ready for the big stage that’s going to come with this.”
“Where do we even start?” Linda asked, genuinely unsure.
“We can go into more detail once everything is finalized, but an insanity case has very little to do with facts and more about telling a story to the jury. We’ll drill deep down into this young man’s life and find anything that could be stretched to make the jurors believe an insane person has always lived dormant within him.”
“What about a psychologist?”
“Of course. Batchelor will have some hotshot from the state, and we can find one of our own to testify that our guy is nuts, but the jury usually sees through all that. No one witness or piece of evidence wins an insanity case—an attorney does. You have to pique the jury’s interest from the opening statements and aggressively feed that interest. The more they feel he could be one of them, the more likely you are to get him off.”
Linda nodded and rubbed her forehead.
“I know it sounds like a lot,” Wilbert said. “But it’s not as bad as you might think. The hard work starts now. Once you have your story painted, you just need to tell it.”
“I’ve heard he hasn’t spoken a word to his public defender. How am I supposed to defend someone who won’t even talk?”
“He’ll talk,” Wilbert assured her. “He’s leery about who to trust right now, but once he knows that his parents have hired you, he’ll know he can confide in you.”
Linda understood the crossroads awaiting her decision. A successful trial for Jeremy Heston would change her life.
“I’m going to defend Jeremy Heston,” she said to herself, and Wilbert nodded in excitement.
* * *
“Hello?” an exhausted voice answered.
“Mr. Heston? This is Linda Kennedy. I wanted to follow up with you regarding your son’s case.”
“Hi, Ms. Kennedy. I appreciate the quick response.”
“Not a problem. I understand this is a difficult time for you, and we need to get a plan in place. I’ve decided to defend your son and look forward to getting started right away.”
“That’s fantastic. We honestly didn’t know who to turn to, but you kept coming up as the best in the state.”
Linda ignored the compliment. “I was hoping to speak with you about the days leading up to this event. Do you have a few moments?”
“I still feel like I’m in a bad dream. Can we plan to meet later this week?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. We’ll be back in court nex
t Monday, where the D.A. will formally press charges against your son. Can we plan to meet this Thursday or Friday?”
“Yes, Friday morning will work.”
“Perfect. I’ll send you the directions to our office and some of the questions I’ll be asking, so you can refresh your memory.”
“Thank you, Ms. Kennedy. Is there any chance my son won’t be executed?”
“Please, call me Linda. And yes, there is a good chance we can spare his life. We’ll be working tirelessly to ensure the death penalty doesn’t happen.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you on Friday.”
Linda dropped her handset into its cradle. Jeremy’s parents must be sick at what their son has done. Linda had no kids, but she was sure no one raised their child to be a mass murderer.
She pulled up Jeremy’s mugshot on her computer. His hair was in brown waves surrounding his pale face. His eyes were wide, almost dilated, and he smirked, his lips tight. He looked every bit the lunatic she wanted him to be.
“What happened to you? Where did it all go wrong?”
She would need to look deep into his past, to see what had led to Jeremy opening fire on his entire office. People didn’t just wake up one day and decide to commit mass murder.
5
Chapter 5
Thursday, March 17, 2016
Jeremy lay on his cot, staring at the gray ceiling as he had for countless hours over the weekend. The few minutes in court had been more intense than he’d anticipated. A lot of people were crowded into that courtroom and would be throughout the entire trial.
I should have studied more about the justice system. A knowledge of the courts wouldn’t necessarily have helped him directly, as the trial was in the hands of the attorneys, but he would’ve felt better prepared to handle the situation. Even though his only job would be to sit there and appear crazy, it would be nice to know what would come next. Perhaps his defender could fill him in.
If I told her what I was doing, would she believe me? Would it affect the way she fought this case?
Jeremy closed his eyes and played back the events from last Friday, where they would be etched forever in his memory. The jail cell gave way to the office, where he could feel the death spewing from his hands, through the rifle. The screams and cries for help would always echo in his mind.
He saw his coworkers lying on the ground, pools of blood forming beneath their limp bodies. Some bled from their mouth and stared lifelessly at the ceiling, others twitched and trembled as they clung to life. He’d never forget the symphony of ringtones when the news had broken across the country as he sat handcuffed in a whirlwind of police and dead bodies. They had kept him handcuffed to a desk while the dozens of officers scrambled to save lives and preserve evidence.
A tear rolled down his cheek as he imagined Sylvia dead on the floor. Her nine-year-old son must be terrified. If Jeremy ever got to see the light of day again, he would find her son, to explain and apologize.
“Heston!” a voice barked, snapping Jeremy out of his daydream. An officer stood at the barred door, holding a tray through the slot. “Come get it.”
It seemed a different officer had brought him his meals each time.
Jeremy stood from his bed and approached the bars, grabbing the tray. It was filled with some sort of mashed potatoes and a ham sandwich that looked to have come from roadkill.
It’s time to snap out of your daze and start selling this insanity.
Jeremy offered a wide grin to the officer before returning with his tray of food to his cot.
“You think this is a game?” the officer said under his breath.
Jeremy sat and put the sandwich in his mouth, not breaking eye contact with the officer before he walked away, cursing to himself.
That was easy.
* * *
An hour later, Jeremy entered the visitation room, escorted by yet another officer, who remained a few feet behind him as he sat down on the metal stool. The room housed five booths, each with a glass divider and a phone in a cradle. There were no other visitors at the moment, except for the middle-aged woman sitting behind the glass.
At the sight of him, Linda stood, revealing a form-fitting gray pantsuit. Jeremy had a dazed look of confusion, likely expecting to see Jenna, his public defender, instead. The sight of the mass murderer sent a shockwave of nerves through Linda’s body. Keep your eyes on the prize, he’s a client like anyone else, she reminded herself.
Jeremy looked back to the officer, who gestured for him to sit.
He took his seat and lifted the phone from its cradle, pulling it slowly toward his ear with an absent stare through the glass. “Hello?” he said quizzically.
“Hi, Jeremy, my name is Linda Kennedy. I’ve been hired by your parents to defend you. I’m hoping you can talk with me today. I need to hear your side of the story if you want any chance of surviving this trial.” She spoke confidently.
She sat back and watched him. He leaned closer to the glass before speaking.
“Hi, Linda. What happened to Jenna?” His voice came through mysterious and creepy.
“Jenna was assigned to you as a public defender. She’s been relieved of her duties as I’ll be taking over,” she said, fully in control.
“Lucky lady.” Jeremy’s comment sent chills down Linda’s spine, reminding her of Hannibal Lecter’s first encounter with Clarice. Was Jenna the lucky one? Or herself? He still had that blankness in his eyes that she’d seen—that everyone had seen—in his mugshot.
“And what kind of results have you had?” Jeremy questioned.
“Murder is always difficult when there’s DNA evidence, but I’ve had two successful cases where my client walked free.”
Jeremy nodded. “Well, I did the crime, no point in arguing that I didn’t. As you may know, I was in school for psychology, close to graduating with my master’s. I’ve had plenty of time to think over the last few days, and I believe I suffered from some sort of psychotic episode. Schizophrenia runs in my family.”
Linda was caught off guard by him being so forthcoming. She scribbled notes to later share with the psychologist.
“Thank you for sharing that. So that you know what to expect: the D.A. will pursue the death penalty and we’re going to counter with a plea bargain of life in prison. Is that something you’re okay with?”
Jeremy leaned back and scrunched his face in thought. “So we’re not gonna fight it?”
“We will. It’s all posturing at the beginning. We know the D.A. wants the death penalty, so he won’t take a plea bargain. I’d call it a one percent chance that he takes our plea. When he doesn’t, we’ll then move forward with an insanity defense.”
“You think I’m insane?” Jeremy fought back the excitement in his voice.
“It’s the only fight we have in a case like this. We’ll have some psychologists run tests.”
Jeremy nodded.
“I hope you understand there’s a real possibility that the jury will ask for the death penalty. People are not going to feel sympathy for you.”
Jeremy said, “I understand. I hope they’ll come to understand the nature of mental illness. When will the trial start?”
“It’s hard to say. Jury selection may take some time. Since this is a case with mental illness at the forefront, there will be a lot of interviews between you and different doctors. There’s also thousands of pieces of evidence to process and file. I think the soonest we can start trial is six months from now, and that’s a stretch.”
Jeremy nodded. He’d known there would be a long waiting period between his arrest and the trial. There always seemed to be a lag time in murder cases.
“How long do you think the trial will run?”
Linda paused to remind herself that she was speaking with the man who had just murdered thirteen people at his office.
“I would guess two months at the most, possibly one full month. There will be tons of witnesses giving testimony, and like I said, around one thousand pieces of e
vidence that will each need to be discussed.”
Linda started in with her own questions. “I’m meeting with your parents tomorrow. Is there anything you want me to pass along to them?”
“When will I get to see them in person?”
“Right now that’s up to the judge’s discretion. For the time being I’m your only permitted visitor. I’d imagine he’ll grant your parents visitation rights, but it’s impossible for me to know when.”
“Okay. Tell them hello for me and that I’m okay.” Jeremy’s request was in sharp contrast to his chilling tone.
Come back to reality, she told herself. He can’t hurt you.
“Jeremy, I need to know why you did it. How long have you been planning this?”
Without hesitation, he replied, “I had an episode. I don’t recall much of it. I remember going to work that morning, but then things get fuzzy. Then I was being handcuffed and there were bodies all over the floor.”
She stared at him, her eyes full of doubt. “Look, if I’m going to defend you I need to know everything. I need to know how things happened from your perspective. I need to know what was going on in your mind. I need to know how the air smelled when you woke up that morning. We can’t afford any surprises in this trial.”
“I’m afraid I’ve told you what I remember. I’ll think some more on it, but that’s all I got.
Linda sighed. “Okay. I’ll be in touch.” She hung up the phone, wrote another note, and stormed out of the visitation room.
Still at square one, she thought. She would need to consult with a doctor on the validity of Jeremy’s claims. Her gut told her Jeremy Heston was full of shit.
6
Chapter 6
Friday, March 18, 2016
The Burden Page 2