Facing Evil

by C L Hart

  “All rise,” came the order, and Lincoln quickly returned to his seat in the gallery. The courtroom shuffled and rustled as Judge Porter took his seat.

  “The circumstances of this case concern me greatly. I know Detective Stanfield from her appearances in my courtroom, and I’ve always considered her to be a highly regarded detective and an upstanding citizen.”

  Abby heard the “but” even before Porter spoke it.

  “But the law is there for the protection of the people, all of the people. Unfortunately,” he shifted uncomfortably in his chair “with the evidence presented, I do believe there is an issue of a flight. Bail is denied.” The gavel came down hard as the entire gallery erupted with the noise of the departing reporters.

  She turned to her uncle. “Nathan?”

  “I’ll do what I can, Abby,” he said as the officers of the court came to collect her.

  Lincoln felt helpless. He turned to look at Nathan, but the lawyer was looking around for the judge who had used the cover of the commotion to seek the privacy of his chambers.

  “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Nathan snapped his briefcase shut and headed for Porter’s chambers.

  Lincoln paced the courtroom, feeling lost and alone, with nothing to do. He kept his eyes on the clock as the minutes ticked by, five...ten...fifteen...twenty— two minutes later, Nathan opened the door to the empty courtroom. Lincoln jumped to his feet the moment he saw the lawyer. “Well?”

  “The ticket was purchased with cash...the day before the murder.”

  Chapter 20

  In the distance Abby heard voices, muffled hollow voices, while waking from her slumber. The bed on which she was lying was hard, and as she turned to look at the four gray walls around her, she hoped with a falling spirit that she was only dreaming.

  “Lights out in ten minutes.”

  The directive from the distant loudspeaker confirmed that she was not dreaming. She was in prison, or rather in segregation, and probably would be for a long while. The warden had granted her special conditions, but only temporarily. Sooner or later they would have to release her into the general population, out into the overcrowded crush of inmates, some of whom she had helped send there herself.

  With a heavy heartfelt sigh, she looked around her new home. Abby knew she was further away from Sarah now than she had ever been, and there was little chance of her predicament changing any time soon. Sarah…all she wanted to do was talk to Sarah, but how could she now? Even if she could, what would she say? I miss you. ... I love you, and oh, by the way, did you write all those stories about me in the paper? And what else do you know about me? She climbed off her bed and stood at the bars with her hands hanging into the corridor.

  “Lights out in five minutes,” the loudspeaker warned.

  Abby went back to the cot and stretched out. Nathan had also told her that they would be meeting with the assistant DA and Lieutenant Banks as soon as possible. That was when she would find out what they had on her, what evidence had been found that connected her to Billy’s death besides the knife with her fingerprints on it.

  The machinery that locked down the prison was old, and as Abby closed her eyes, she felt it come to life. Her entire cot vibrated as metal slammed against metal. The sound echoed through the thick walls as the lights went out.

  In the darkness, she lay awake for hours, remembering with vivid clarity the height of the Gold Creek mountains, the blue of Lake Alouette, and the emerald green of Sarah’s eyes. But when she finally fell asleep, those weren’t the images that tossed her into turmoil. It was her demons who played with her conscience, the past that toyed with the shadows in her mind. The death of her parents was creeping back into her life and into her subconscious. The guilt of what she knew and what she had kept from those that she loved. Time would never heal that wound, no matter what her uncle had told her.

  When Abby sat bolt upright in bed, her skin glistened with sweat and her breathing came in gasping gulps. She knew now that her past was coming into the light, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  ♥

  Lieutenant Banks averted her eyes when they brought Abby into the room wearing her bright orange jumpsuit and shackles around her wrist, waist, and ankles. Her long, dark hair hung listlessly around her pale face, darkening the circles under her eyes.

  “Can we take those off, please?” Nathan asked the guard politely.

  “Sorry, sir, but she’s here on murder charges and policy states—”

  “Take them off,” Banks stated with authority. The guard looked from the prisoner to her lawyer, then to the lieutenant before he stopped at the assistant DA, who gave a quick nod.

  “It’s your necks,” he stated as he unlocked the chains. The room stayed silent until the guard was gone. The moment the door closed, Abby stood up and walked over to the window.

  Lieutenant Banks went over and placed a hand on her shoulder. “How are you?”

  Abby slid her a sideways glare. “How do you think I am?”

  “Fair enough.” Banks squeezed her shoulder and then walked back to the table. She turned to the men around her, but kept half an eye on the stoic woman brooding by the window.

  “All right, let’s get this going,” de Barr stated as he opened his briefcase. “Fingerprints.” He threw down the file Abby had looked at earlier.

  “Abby?” Nathan inquired of his client, but she refused to join them at the table. Nathan picked up his copy and reached over to Abby with the other, but she silently declined. Placing her copy on the table, he turned his attention to the one in his hand. Nathan made a few notations and then looked to de Barr. “What else?”

  “We have the murder weapon in our possession.”

  “Fine. I want it tested at an independent lab. What else?”

  “We have numerous, and I do mean numerous, witnesses,” de Barr looked over his glasses at Abby, “including several police officers that heard the accused threaten to kill the victim.”

  “Are you kidding me” Abby snarled.

  “Abby,” Nathan warned.

  “Ronald, I don’t believe you need to use the term accused in here; we all know Abby,” Banks said. “And I have a hard time swallowing Billy as a victim.”

  de Barr attempted to stand his ground against Mary Banks. “He is dead, Lieutenant, and I have several witnesses who heard Abby threaten to kill him.”

  “You and I know that wouldn’t carry any weight in court. We all make comments without ever following through on them,” Nathan scoffed dismissively.

  “Yes, well, one of those threats came right after your client physically attacked Mr. Ward in front of witnesses, including several television cameras.” He handed Nathan a number of sheets of paper bound together. “This is a list of those present during that altercation, including their addresses. We also have her Jeep down at the crime lab.”

  “You have my Jeep?” Abby said from the back of the room, but Nathan held up his hand.

  Lieutenant Banks watched Abby’s every move. The dark-haired detective tried to remain aloof, but Banks could tell that she wanted to be at the table. Could she really have done it? The question had haunted Lieutenant Banks since she had seen Abby being taken away in handcuffs at the station. Looking at Abby’s hands, Lieutenant Banks studied the scars left by her attack on Ward. Could she have done it? Her mind kept playing the question over and over again.

  “And finally, we have Billy Ward’s own accusation,” de Barr said.

  The lieutenant watched as Abby turned to see what de Barr was referring to.

  Slowly, enjoying the dramatic effect, de Barr pulled a large manila envelope from his briefcase. Opening it up, he shook the contents into his waiting hand.

  Even from her perch on the windowsill, Abby could see a large color photo of a human body, a naked back to be exact. Nathan reached for the picture and pulled it in front of him as Abby walked up behind him. It was Billy, and it had been taken at the crime scene.

  “A dying m
an’s last word,” de Barr said with contentment.

  Looking down at the picture, she finally saw what everyone else had seen the night they had found his body. Ward’s hands had been secured behind him with zip ties, but he had still used his hands to scratch out one last message. It was Abby’s name, carved upside down into the flesh of his back. Billy himself had named her as his killer.

  “Well then, Counselor, would you like to confer with your client before we discuss a plea-bargain—”

  Abby jumped to her feet. “No goddamned way!”

  “Abby,” Nathan commanded.

  “Forget it, Nathan. There will be no plea bargaining here! Not now and not ever.” Her brown eyes were a blaze of fury as she glared at de Barr. While a detective, she had always hated the way he would plead down every case she had brought him, and now she loathed him for it.

  “This is a capital one murder charge you’re facing, Abby, not a shoplifting charge,” de Barr said smugly. All eyes turned to Abby who had stepped forward to face her prosecutor.

  “Abby,” Nathan warned again.

  Her physical presence alone overwhelmed de Barr as she glared down into the startled face of the assistant DA. “You will no longer call me Abby. Call me ‘the accused’, or Miss Stanfield, but you will no longer refer to me as Abby.”

  The room remained still until de Barr broke the stare. He shuffled a few papers in his briefcase, hoping the others couldn’t see his hands shaking as Abby quietly returned to her seat on the window sill.

  “I would like a moment alone with my client, please,” Nathan requested.

  When they were alone, Nathan turned to his niece, “Abby, you can’t indulge yourself with actions like that. It only undermines—”

  “Nathan, cut the crap. They have a strong case against me, I know that and you know that. But I won’t cower before the likes of Ronald de Barr.”

  “Fine, if you want to be pig-headed and stubborn, that’s your birthright, but at least listen to what they have to say. Maybe we can make a deal—”

  “Forget it.” She crossed her arms and looked out at the view.

  “Abby, you should at least listen. If there’s a chance that maybe...” His voice died out as he realized just how much like her father she was. The strong family resemblance went further than their dark eyes and jet black hair. Abby’s jaw was set, which meant that her mind was made up, and Nathan knew there wasn’t anything he could do to change it.

  “Nathan, we both know what happens as a result of plea bargains and deals, don’t we?” she said, pulling him from his memories of his fallen brother.

  The comment took him by surprise. “Abby, look—”

  “No,” she said quietly but firmly. “You work for me, and the decisions are mine this time.”

  He closed his mouth. She was right. It was her life, her case; all he could do was advise her. “Yes, Abby, I work for you, but I’m also family, and I’m here to look out for you. If that means protecting you from yourself, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “That’s fine. Just promise me, no deals.”

  When he reluctantly agreed, she turned back to look out at the view. I am not going to drag my life out of the shadows and into the light — and I will not have everything about Sarah and her life held up to public scrutiny. Nathan was about to return to his seat when she said, “I don’t want to go to court.”

  The soft voice reminded him of a child’s long ago. “I’ll do what I can.”

  “No. I mean...I will not go to court,” she stated firmly. I will not put Sarah through a trial.

  “But—”

  “Uncle Nathan, I will not be dragged through a messy public court proceeding, and neither will anyone else. Got that? I will not go to court,” she reiterated, and her counselor threw up his hands.

  “You tell me what you want to do, Abby, and I will do it. But as I’m sure you are aware, the only options you have that will keep you out of the courts are to plea bargain, or plead guilty.” He was stunned at the look on her face. “You’re not serious, are you? Abby, you can’t be!”

  “Do you think I did it?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “If you change your plea to guilty, they will send you away for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?” Her eyes were dark, haunted by her past, and he could see the truth that lay within them.

  “Change my plea, Nathan.”

  “I won’t do that, Abby.”

  “Then I will.”

  “Abby, think about what you are doing. Think about Sarah.”

  “I am,” she said firmly.

  There was a knock on the door and Lieutenant Banks stuck her head in. “Can we come back in?”

  “No,” Nathan stated firmly.

  Abby locked eyes with her lawyer. Her mind was made up. “We’re finished, come back in.”

  Banks came through the door, quickly followed by de Barr, who immediately set his briefcase on the table.

  “Okay, since there isn’t going to be any plea bargaining, I guess we’ll see you both in court.” He pulled several thick documents out of his briefcase and slid them over to Nathan, who began to scan them.

  “Before we do that,” Abby said.

  Nathan held up his hand. “Abby, wait.” He felt the muscles in his chest tighten as he reread the words and then looked up at his niece.

  Her eyes held the conviction of what she was going to do, but the look on his face caused her to pause. “Nathan?”

  “Abby, they’re seeking the death penalty.”

  ♥

  “Are you kidding me?” Never before had Lincoln raised his voice to his boss. The headlines of the morning’s newspaper in his hand were grim.

  “It was not my decision; it comes from the DA’s office,” Lieutenant Banks said in her defense.

  “I know that, Lieutenant, but I can’t believe you’re turning your back on her.”

  “Detective, calm down. I’m not turning my back on her. I’m doing my job. The evidence against her is staggering.”

  “I don’t care. We’re not going to gas one of our own, that’s crazy. Half of this city already has her convicted, and now the upstairs Brass want her in the gas chamber. What happened to innocent until proven guilty? How about trying to figure out who really did this? Because I know her, and she didn’t do it.” Lincoln paced angrily back and forth.

  “The evidence says otherwise.”

  Lincoln turned and looked Banks in the eye. “So you believe she did it?”

  “I believe what the evidence tells me,” she answered.

  “You have a gut instinct; what does it tell you?”

  Lieutenant Banks didn’t hesitate. “It tells me that she’s more than capable.”

  “Do you think she did it?” Lincoln demanded.

  Leaning back in her chair, she recalled many different occasions she had met with Abby in this office. “No,” she finally said.

  “So, what are we going to do about it?”

  Lieutenant Banks took a deep breath, but said nothing.

  “She didn’t kill Billy Ward.” Lincoln’s face was solid as a stone as he reached into his pocket. “I bet my badge on it.” He slammed his gold shield down on the desk and turned toward the door.

  “Detective Quinn.” Lieutenant Banks rounded her desk after him. “Lincoln,” she said firmly. “Lincoln, I’m not accepting your resignation. Your leaving won’t help her or her case.” She lifted his hand and placed his badge into it. “Take this.”

  Lincoln looked down at the gold shield. “Lieutenant, I love this badge and I’ve worked my ass off for it, but to be honest with you,” he looked her in the eyes, “I trust my partner more than I trust this badge.” He laid his gold shield and gun on her desk and silently left.

  Chapter 21

  Abby was lying in her solitude, bouncing a small ball off the ceiling, when a guard came to her cell.

  “You have a visitor,” he said unemotionall
y.

  It was not the scheduled visiting time. “Who?”

  “I don’t know,” the guard said as he held out a set of handcuffs.

  With the metal shackles in place, Abby followed the guard down the hall and through several gates and long, wide corridors. When they reached one of the visiting rooms, she was searched. Once the guards were satisfied that she wasn’t carrying anything in the way of a weapon or contraband, the door was buzzed open and she was let in.

  Looking quickly down all the cubicles, she was surprised to see Lincoln waiting for her on the other side of the glass. A broad smile filled her face as she reached for the phone. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  Though her smile was real, he could see the sadness in her eyes.

  “Why didn’t you just book an interrogation room? I hate this phone crap.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at her partner. “Lincoln, what’s wrong?” Her fears immediately went in one direction. Sarah!

  He knew instantly what she was thinking. “Sarah’s fine, I assure you. Still medicated but improving.”

  “Don’t do that to me,” she said as she ran her fingers through her hair. “All right then, what?”

  Without a word, he stuck the newspaper up against the glass. Abby’s eyes followed the bold headlines, but she refused to read the accompanying story. “You’d think they could find another picture of me,” she said mockingly, referring to the picture of her in the hall of the courthouse, throwing the infamous punch.

  Dropping the newspaper, Lincoln stared at her in disbelief. “This isn’t funny, Abby. They’re looking to gas you.”

  Her smile faded and her face took on a serious look. “What would you like me to do, Linc? Get mad, get angry, sit in a corner and cry about it? Which one of those things is gonna help me?” She looked at her partner, the truth of the matter reflected in the pain in her eyes.

  She was right and it frustrated him more. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”