#7-9--The O’Connells

by Lorhainne Eckhart

  Iris felt the ground soften, hearing her sons all talking, shouting, yelling. All she could do was hold her granddaughter, who was staring up at her, freaked out, and she felt someone’s hand on her shoulder.

  “Grandma, what’s going on?” Alison said. The emotion in her voice cut right to Iris’s heart, and she opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so all she could do was shake her head.

  “On what charges?” Jack finally said, cutting in. He, Marcus, Luke, Ryan, and Owen had suddenly formed a wall, as if they wouldn’t let Harold pass or get anywhere near her. It was with horror that she took in the disarray, the destruction.

  “It was me she saw burying a knife, yet they’re leaping to my mom?” Owen shouted.

  “The problem is that your mom didn’t file a missing persons report, and, I shouldn’t be saying this, but they’re basing this investigation on the argument that a reasonable adult would have called the police to report your father missing. Everything here is circumstantial, yes, but they’re of the mind that Owen was just a minor. You should know you could be brought in next, though. Right now, they’re bringing Iris in because they found something during the search.”

  Her heart was pounding, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get the shock on her kids’ faces from her mind.

  “And what did they find?” Jack said, then turned to her. “Iris, say nothing.”

  “They found enough that they want Iris brought in,” Harold said. “They found a letter with dried blood on it, and the DNA they were able to get from it was a match to the remains. That’s all I know.”

  Everyone was looking over to her, and she racked her brain.

  “There was blood on it?” she said, looking over to Marcus, Luke, Karen, and then Jack, who strode over to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “You say nothing, nothing at all,” he said. “No one talks to you.”

  There was still arguing going on behind him. Her house was an absolute shitshow.

  She heard Harold yell, “You think I want to bring her in? No! I said hell, no! But it was either me or Lonnie. Do you really want Lonnie bringing your mother in? Because I don’t. You know he’s got a chip on his shoulder where you’re concerned, Marcus, and anything in that ride to the station could be used against your mom. Evidence could suddenly appear, or he could say she suddenly started talking.”

  She could see her sons weren’t going to move.

  “Marcus, Owen, Ryan, Luke, stop,” Iris said. “He’s right.”

  Suzanne moved over to her, and Alison was suddenly standing with Jenny, crying with her arms around her mom.

  “Mom, this is absolute bullshit…” Suzanne said.

  “I know, Suzanne, but arguing and fighting isn’t going to help. Jack will get me out, all right?” she said before dragging her gaze over to Jack, who was already rolling down the sleeves of his dress shirt.

  “I’m right behind you,” he said.

  She stepped forward, and Harold moved around Marcus. She took in the cuffs in his hand and thought her knees were going to give out on her.

  “You’re not cuffing my mother,” Marcus said. “Let us bring her in ourselves.”

  She could see that the young man her daughter loved was between a rock and a hard place.

  “I’m sorry, Iris,” Harold said. “It’s the law. I’ll let you keep your hands in front.”

  She only nodded. She could hear everyone talking to her, to Harold, but feeling the bite of the cuffs on her wrists made the world fall into slow motion.

  He read her her rights, and she thought she said yes to whatever he was asking. Then she felt a hand on her arm, Harold’s, and then another on her back and her other arm, her kids’, as she was walked out of the house.

  She took in the neighbors watching from across the street and likely next door, too. Right, this would just be another nail in her coffin, and this time she didn’t know how she’d be able to hold her head up.

  Harold opened the back door of the cop car, with the bars and mesh, and helped her into the cramped back seat. He stood there for a second and leaned down. “I’m really sorry, Iris. Just listen to Jack, and don’t say anything. Keep your head down, because even though it’s not that late, it’s late enough that you’ll be in jail overnight. It won’t be comfortable, and everyone will be listening to anything you say.”

  There was something in his blue eyes—a warning, she thought. She only nodded, and he closed the door and walked around the cruiser. She looked out from the backseat, where criminals sat, seeing her children outside, her family. Jack was walking to his car as Harold pulled away from the curb, and all she could think was to ask herself why she had kept that letter.

  Damn Raymond O’Connell!

  Chapter Twelve

  “I want you to stay home,” Marcus said. “I told you before, we’ll figure it out.”

  Charlotte was pulling her deputy uniform on over her very pregnant belly, and he strode over and touched her hands over the buttons, taking in how tired and stressed she looked. He was aware of how little she’d slept the night before.

  “I have to go to work,” she said. “I’m likely to be sent back home, and you know that, but I have to go, Marcus. I think it’s important I’m there. At least I can get an idea of what’s going on with Lonnie in charge. I’ll have a heads-up on whatever he’s planning or whatever evidence comes in on the case. I still can’t believe he was appointed…” She shook her head and then sat on the bed.

  She went to reach for her sturdy shoes on the floor, but he bent down and got to them first, holding each up so she could slip her foot in. He tied one for her and did the same with the other as he looked up at her, wishing he could fix all of this.

  Just then, Eva came into the bedroom, holding a doll. That wasn’t something he’d seen her do before, but he knew she was picking up on their stress.

  “Hey there, sweet pea. You’re not dressed,” Marcus said.

  Eva was still in her pink pajamas, and he lifted her so she could sit on the unmade bed beside Charlotte. “Marcus, how come I can’t go to school today?” she said.

  He knew she loved school, but with everything happening, the talk, the gossip, he knew well that someone would say something about her grandma and about him, and he wasn’t about to take that chance.

  “Alison is staying home, too,” he said. “Think of it as a party day, a fun day. There’s some adult stuff going on, and I would feel better with you staying close to home.”

  “Is Grandma going to come over? I didn’t see her yesterday.”

  He stood and wrung his hands, because he needed to get going to meet Jack and everyone at the courthouse. His mom had been locked up for the night, and he was still sick, thinking of the hard bench and crowded accommodations at the county jail.

  How could the blood on the letter she’d kept match the remains on Lionel’s property? This was his mom, so how could he come to terms with the fact that evidence he should’ve known about was coming together against her, and he didn’t have a clue how to fix it? It was one of his worst fears.

  “You’ll see her tonight,” he said. “Now go get dressed, because Alison will be here soon.” He forced a smile, and Charlotte pressed a kiss to her bed hair as she slipped down and strode out of their bedroom.

  “Marcus, will she get out?” Charlotte asked.

  “Of course she will. Jack’s good, and the case is…”

  “I know, Marcus, but you and I both know that anything can happen in that courtroom, depending on who the judge is and what the DA is coming at her with. Do you even know what they have on your mom? You said something about a letter she kept, how they were able to get enough evidence off it to match it to the body.” She let out a sigh. “Is the body your father’s?”

  She was asking everything he’d been thinking, but he didn’t know what to say to her, because he was still reeling over what Harold had said. Jack had talked to them only briefly before going radio silent, and when Marcus had tri
ed to call him the night before, Karen had answered and told him quite pointedly that her husband was busy getting ready for the next day.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I’m just having a little trouble with all this.”

  Charlotte stood up and rubbed her hand over his chest, over his dress shirt and jacket. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a suit. Good thing it still fit.

  “Well, you’d better get going,” she said. “You don’t want to be late. Don’t worry about Eva or me. What’s the worst that could happen? If they fire me and send me home, then I guess I’ll join the ranks of the unemployed.”

  He knew she was trying to make light of this dire situation. As she walked down the stairs ahead of him, he heard a knock at the front door, and he stepped off the last step, around Charlotte, and pulled it open to see Alison. Ryan was behind her, freshly shaved, already dressed in a dark suit and tie as well.

  Alison walked into the kitchen with Charlotte, and Marcus just took in Ryan. For a minute, he didn’t know what to say, considering Karen had called each of them and said to wear their Sunday best for their mom.

  “Jenny’s coming too,” Ryan said, letting the screen door close behind him. “She’s just locking up the house. We’ll take her Jeep.”

  Marcus just nodded and then started to the kitchen, but Charlotte was already walking toward him with a go mug of coffee. He took a second and let his gaze linger, then leaned down and kissed her. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice as she reached around and ran her hand over his lower back and his butt, then up.

  “Yeah, tell your mom…” she started, but she didn’t have to finish.

  “I know.” He rested his hand on her shoulder and looked past her to Alison, who, it appeared, had helped herself to coffee. He could hear Eva on the stairs saying something to Ryan, who was waiting.

  “Don’t take any crap from Lonnie, you hear?” Marcus said. “He does anything, and I mean anything…”

  She reached over and pressed her hand into his chest. “You need to go. And don’t worry; I’ve worked with Lonnie a long time. I know his crap. It’ll be fine. Stop worrying.”

  He kissed her again and started to the door just as Eva strode past in her pajama shirt and shorts, half dressed. “See you later, squirt,” he said and rustled her hair, then stepped out of the house with Ryan and let the door close.

  Across the street, Jenny wore heels and a skirt, with her jacket pulled on overtop. Her dark hair was hanging long and loose. She lifted her hand, opened the back door, and slid in. Ryan had the keys ready.

  “Jenny, I can sit in the back,” Marcus said.

  “No, Marcus, it’s fine. I’m already back here,” she said as she pulled the door closed.

  He didn’t say anything else as he slid in, and Ryan started the Jeep and backed out of the driveway. Charlotte was just leaving the house, walking to her Subaru, and she lifted her hand in a wave.

  “She’s going to work?” Ryan asked, though it wasn’t really a question.

  “She has to,” was all he said. He glanced back to Jenny, who didn’t offer him a smile, because there was nothing about that day that anyone could find any joy in.

  They parked behind the courthouse, and he saw that Karen and Jack were already there with Suzanne and Luke, and Owen and Tessa, as well. The three of them joined the group.

  “Has Mom arrived yet?” Marcus said.

  Jack was dressed in a black suit, white dress shirt, and gray tie in a shade that matched his eyes. It was the kind of thing he hadn’t noticed before, how Jack was always impeccably groomed. He held a briefcase, and his expression was all business.

  “Not yet, but she will be soon,” he said. “I checked in with her already. Harold will be bringing her.”

  “How is she, Jack?” Suzanne said. She wore dark pants and a white shirt with a jacket overtop, and her hair was in a ponytail.

  “She’s tired but unbelievably strong, and she told me to tell you all not to worry, though I could tell she was putting up a front. Now, I’ve already talked to Karen about this, even though she’s a lawyer. This is your mom, and, Marcus, I know you’ve been through this and know what to expect, but not from this side, you haven’t. None of you have.

  “From this moment on, whatever happens in there, whatever is said, show no emotion. This is important, and I need you all to be on the same page, because everyone is watching all of you. If you smile, it’ll tell everyone this is a big joke to you, or if you get angry, people will see arrogance. They’re looking for confirmation that your mom is guilty, that you’re all guilty, that you did something eighteen years ago and you all knew about it, so you all hid it.

  “No reactions at all. Do not answer questions, and do not look at the reporters. Keep your heads high and your expressions free of any emotion, like you’re playing a game of poker. Get your game face on, all of you. This is for your mom,” Jack said.

  Marcus wanted to pull him aside and ask him a ton of questions, but now wasn’t the time.

  “You all know how this works,” Jack continued. “You need to ignore the rumors that are being spread, all of them. They’ll be vicious. People are looking to get a reaction out of you. I can’t say enough how much of a media frenzy this is going to be, considering who you all are in this town. Marcus, Ryan, Owen, Luke, Suzanne, Karen…” He let his gaze linger on his wife for a second before lifting it back to them. “Don’t react, don’t respond, don’t talk. Eyes forward. Let’s get your mom out. Ready?”

  Karen slipped her hand around his arm, his hand gripping his briefcase, and they all fell in behind as they walked around the building, to the front, where there were three news vans and more people than he’d expected. Cameras flashed, and microphones were shoved in his face, questions being shouted, asked, called out.

  All he could think as he walked into that courthouse was that he’d been there so many times with suspects, but on the other side. So this was what it felt like to be on the wrong side of the law.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The courtroom was packed, the bailiff standing in the corner. The judge was Thompson, so at least Jack had that on his side, as the man was a stickler for propriety. This was just a preliminary hearing to get bail, but that wouldn’t stop Jack from attempting to have the charges tossed out.

  He stood with everyone as Iris was led in, wearing her clothes from the day before, her hair sticking up. He heard Suzanne gasp behind him and whisper, “Mom…” He didn’t glance back but hoped Karen could keep everyone in line.

  Iris forced a smile as she was led to the table and sat down, and he instantly put his arm around her back and leaned in.

  “Just follow my lead,” he said. “Game face, like I told you.”

  The court clerk read off the charges: “Murder in the first degree.”

  He had known that was coming, but he’d expected more—evidence tampering, body tampering, something.

  “Is the district attorney’s office ready?” Thompson asked, and Jack didn’t have to look over to know that Tibo Lewis, who was there alone, was confident as he stood and buttoned his suit jacket.

  “Yes, Your Honor, the state is ready.”

  “Very well. Defense, how does your client plead?”

  Jack scooted back his chair and helped Iris up, as well. “Not guilty, Your Honor.”

  “I take it you’ll be asking for bail?” the judge asked.

  Jack sat back down and rested his hand on Iris’s back again, feeling how tense and shaky she was. “Yes, Your Honor, we will.”

  “Very well. Let’s hear the bail arguments.” The judge wore thick glasses, looking out at Iris and then over to Tibo, who stood again.

  “As you well know, Your Honor, the defendant’s son, Marcus O’Connell, is the sheriff in this town, and the defendant’s other children are people we all do business with in the community and have fond feelings for. Even I am empathetic to this situation, but it’s been alleged that the sheriff, who has been asked to take a
leave of absence during this trial, used his position to conceal evidence in a crime to protect his mother and brother and used his authority to manipulate that evidence—”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Lewis, but Sheriff O’Connell is not on trial here,” the judge said, cutting in before Jack could stand to object. “Do you understand that, or do I need to outline the charges and who stands accused?”

  “Of course, Your Honor,” Tibo said. “…But if I may, the sheriff and his influence in this case have great relevance regarding the motion for bail. All the O’Connell children have positions in the community. Luke O’Connell is with the special forces, Ryan O’Connell is a park ranger and had access to the crime scene on park lands, and Karen O’Connell is also—”

  “You Honor, my client’s children are not on trial here,” Jack said. “This smear campaign is nothing more than a blatant attempt on the DA’s part to spread rumors in a community that’s ready to go off like a powder keg. This is character assassination, and this case, too, is nothing more than a witch hunt based on a story. The evidence is merely circumstantial, and the warrant that was served—”

  “This is just a pre-motion hearing for bail, Mr. Curtis, so save your indignation, as we’re not going to argue the evidence in this case,” the judge cut in, peering over his glasses to Jack and then sliding his gaze over to Tibo as if to make a point. “That will be taken up at trial, which will be set for two weeks from today. Mr. Lewis, again, I’ve already made it clear that you’re straying into dangerous territory. Iris O’Connell is the one on trial, not the O’Connell children.”

  “Of course, Your Honor, but as I said, this has relevance on bail.”

  The judge waved his hand. “Make your argument then, Mr. Lewis.”