by C L Hart
Lincoln stopped short at the bottom of the stairs. “She can’t do that, can she?”
“You know as well as I do that she can and she did. The judge will recommend co-counsel, but it’s her right to represent herself if she wants to.”
It was the first time Lincoln had seen Nathan rattled. “I’ll go talk to her,” he said. “She’s just mad at you right now.”
“Son, that child has been mad at me for twenty years and you aren’t going to change it.”
“I know Abby. Give her some time to cool down and she’ll be thinking with a clearer head.”
“She’s had nothing but time to think. Oh, she is so...so stubborn!”
“Yes, she is, but something tells me it’s a family trait,” Lincoln said with a hint of humor. He took a step past Nathan, “I’ll go down—”
“Don’t bother. She has stated clearly that she wants no visitors. Period.”
Lincoln stopped. “No visitors? She can’t mean that.”
“That’s what I thought, too, but the request came straight from Abby. She not only fired me, she no longer wants to see anyone.”
“Anyone?” said a small raspy voice. Both men looked up in surprise.
“Sarah!” they said together.
Nathan’s voice registered his shock at the sight of the young woman out of bed while Lincoln’s was filled with concern at her appearance. Sarah clutched tightly to the handrail with her right hand. Her head tilted slightly forward and to the right, a consequence of the knife cutting through the thick muscles of her neck. Abby was forgotten as the two men raced up the stairs. Lincoln’s young legs got him there sooner, but Nathan wasn’t far behind.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed by yourself,” Lincoln said as he scooped up her small frame without asking permission. Sarah’s face was pale and covered with a thin sheen of perspiration. She was trembling, and Lincoln was unsure if it was because of what she’d done, or what she had heard. He carried her back to her bedroom with Nathan walking beside them.
Nathan was trying to work out what had changed. In the light of her bedroom he saw it was that her stitches had been removed. The only bandage left was the thin white gauze along the left side of her neck.
“I want to know what’s going on,” she said weakly.
“Then we’ll keep you informed,” Lincoln said as he knelt one knee on the bed and then lowered her down.
“What’s going on here?” Robin asked when she entered the bedroom, surprised to see everyone hovering around. “Are you okay?” she asked Sarah as she put down her purchases and went over to the bed. “You’re awfully pale.” Robin picked up Sarah’s wrist to take her patient’s pulse.
“Sarah decided to go for a walk,” Lincoln said as he crossed his arms.
“She what?” Robin looked at Lincoln and then turned her attention to Sarah. “Yesterday you’re hiding from the world and today you’re out walking?” She lifted the comforter and Sarah slid under the covers. “You can’t be doing that. Your body isn’t ready for you to try things like that on your own. Everything in moderation.”
Lincoln looked from the nurse to the patient, and though he was greatly concerned for her wellbeing, he had to smile. Sarah was already asleep, missing most of Robin’s lecture. He was just about to comment when his cell phone rang. He left the room to answer it, so as not to wake her.
“Quinn,” he said. “What? ... When? ... Shit.”
Overhearing the concern in his voice, Nathan joined Lincoln in the hallway as he was closing his cell phone. “What? What’s wrong?” Nathan asked.
“That was Lieutenant Banks. She was just notified by de Barr’s office — Abby has asked to see the judge. She is changing her plea!”
Chapter 26
Abby looked out of the small slit window of the prison van as it moved through the city. She could smell the asphalt after a light sprinkle of rain as she listened to the hustle and bustle of the streets. It made her miss her freedom all the more. Freedom and Sarah, and not in that order. Abby leaned back. Sarah. How she longed to hear Sarah’s voice, to feel the smoothness of her skin, or to look for just a moment into those eyes. Sarah, I wish you knew how sorry I am for what happened to you. It’s my fault, my doing, and I am going to fix it.
The van came to a stop; the cold gray of the courthouse loomed in front of it. She had always hated going to court and today wasn’t any different. A couple of turns later and they were pulling into the brightly lit underground stall reserved for prisoner transfers. No words were exchanged as they took her up the stairs and into one of the several holding rooms. There she waited for her turn in court.
♥
The courtroom halls were filling up as word got out that Abby Stanfield was expected in court. The press had been having a field day with the beautiful, rich ex-detective. Her photogenic features and her quick tongue sold papers and made for higher ratings. The only thing more sought after was a picture of the infamous Sarah, Billy Ward’s last victim and the rumored motivation for Abby’s vigilante attack. The bounty for a single photograph of Sarah was growing daily, but so far no one, not even the press could find her.
The Mercedes came to a quick stop in front of the courthouse and Lincoln and Nathan scrambled out. They had to reach Abby before she got in front of Judge Porter. There were several reporters hanging out on the front steps, and the moment they saw the two men hurrying toward the door, they converged on them like locusts.
“Is Abby going to admit she killed Billy Ward?”
“Is it true that Abby Stanfield fired you, Mr. Holoman?”
“Why are you here if you’re no longer representing her?”
The questions got louder and more insistent, but neither Nathan nor Lincoln responded. Holding out one long arm, Lincoln parted the reporters for Nathan to get through. The counselor quickly made his way into the building and away from the questioning throng. Moving swiftly through the maze of corridors and hallways, Nathan made his way to the segregated area where Abby would be waiting.
“Abby Stanfield,” he said slightly winded to the uniformed courtroom officer. “I’m her lawyer.”
The young guard sitting there looked through a large stack of messy file folders. “Sorry, pops, no go,” the young man said flippantly.
“Excuse me?” Nathan growled at the lack of respect. “I’ve a right to see my client.”
Thumbing quickly through all the papers, the young guard responded, “You might have that right, but your client isn’t here. She’s already been taken into the courtroom. Guess you need to get to court on time, huh, pops?”
“I guess. Thank you.”
“No problem, pops.”
Nathan turned, and as he did, he caught the edge of the bottom file with his finger and the entire stack of folders spilled over onto the floor in a mass of mixed paperwork.
“Holy shit, man, look what you did,” the young guard said as he jumped off his chair.
“I’m sorry. How clumsy of me. You know, at my age things like that just happen,” Nathan said innocently. “Don’t call me pops,” he muttered as he hurried down the hallway.
♥
Lincoln was waiting just outside the massive wood doors of the courtroom. Nathan was taking too long, but he didn’t want to go in without him. With one last look down the empty corridor, he reached for the door and walked into the stuffy, noisy courtroom. A moment later, the side door opened and Abby shuffled in wearing her bright orange jumpsuit and her rattling chains.
Without Nathan, he had to do something before it was too late. Lincoln whispered loudly to her, “Abby.”
She ignored him but many others in the courtroom didn’t.
“Come on, Abby, talk to me.” He waited but she had nothing to say to him nor would she look at him. “Don’t do this,” Lincoln pleaded as he noticed Nathan entering the courtroom.
“All rise,” the bailiff called out.
Nathan and Lincoln locked eyes. He could tell by the look on the lawyer’s face that he ha
d not had the chance to speak to his niece. Lincoln turned around. “Abby,” he hissed, receiving a cautionary glare from the bailiff.
“The Honorable Judge Porter presiding,” the voice intoned as the black-robed judge entered. “Please be seated,” the bailiff directed.
Lincoln looked back to Nathan in panic as the lawyer made his way through the rows of people. “She won’t listen to me,” he said when Nathan squeezed in beside him.
“All right,” the judge said as he peered over some of the documents on his desk. “I understand you’re now representing yourself, Miss Stanfield. Is that correct?” The judge took off his glasses and looked down at the defendant’s table.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Abby said, standing to address the court.
“I have to advise you against that. This is a capital case.”
“I know, Your Honor, but it is my right.”
Judge Porter frowned down at her. “Yes, it is, however you are not a lawyer and you need someone who knows the law and what the procedures are, so I will insist on at least co-counsel.”
“That’s fine, but it won’t be necessary. Before we waste any more of the Court’s time, I’d like to enter a new plea.”
Porter was so concerned by her declaration that he went as far as to cast a glance at Nathan who sat helpless in the front row. “Now just hold on. You’re charged with felony one murder and the prosecution is asking for the death penalty. Are you aware of the consequences of this decision?”
“Yes, Your Honor, I am,” she said, standing tall, her hands bound in front of her.
“Abby,” Lincoln whispered, “for Sarah’s sake, don’t do this.” He saw the quick downcast of Abby’s eyes and knew she had heard him.
“All right, Miss Stanfield, you have the legal right to represent yourself, but I wish you’d confer with your counsel.”
“I just want to get this over with,” she said.
With no other option, Lincoln turned to Nathan and handed him the sheet of paper he had been carrying around in his pocket. “Get this to her.”
The judge was proceeding with the change of plea. “Abby Stanfield, on the charge of murder in the first degree, how do you—”
“Excuse me, Your Honor,” Lincoln jumped to his feet, “but I have something to say.” The courtroom erupted in a buzz of surprised voices.
“Detective Quinn, take your seat,” the judge ordered as he pounded his gavel. Instead, the big man stepped around the railing separating the court from the gallery. Two of the bailiffs moved forward, but Porter waved them back. He knew Lincoln and he was not afraid of him.
“Your Honor, I need to speak with you.” Lincoln took several steps toward the bench.
“Detective, take your seat.” Porter struck his gavel several times. “Order in the court!” Several people jumped to their feet, most were reporters wanting to get a better view. “I said I will have order in my courtroom!” Two of the court officers moved toward Lincoln. “Detective, I’m going to hold you in contempt of court. Now everyone sit down and shut up.” The courtroom was out of control and Porter’s words were having no effect.
“Lincoln, what the hell are you doing?” Abby growled, but he never even gave her a glance as the two officers placed themselves between him and Porter’s bench.
Now or never, Lincoln thought. Ignoring Abby’s confusion, he gave one of the officers a shove. A short scuffle ensued, and all three went down in a pile of wrestling flesh as Judge Porter continued to pound his gavel.
“Order in this courtroom, I said order!” His face turned redder with each blow of his wooden mallet.
In all the commotion, no one noticed Nathan stepping around the barrier and coming up behind Abby. “Don’t do this, if not for you, then for Sarah — she needs you,” he whispered to the back of her head as he pushed a piece of paper into her hand and then quickly returned to the other side of the partition.
Several other officers had joined in the struggle and they had Lincoln face down with his hands in cuffs. The disheveled bailiffs dragged him to his feet to face the angry judge.
“Lincoln Quinn, in all my years on the bench, I’ve never seen anything so foolhardy as what you just did. I would’ve seen you in chambers.”
As the judge voiced his displeasure, the winded investigator just licked at his bloody lip. His attention was on Abby who was reading what he hoped was the poem Sarah had written for her.
“That’s enough, people.” This time, with the struggle over, the gallery began to quiet. “Five hundred dollars and a night in jail ought to cool you off. Take him out of here,” the judge ordered.
Four bailiffs surrounded Lincoln as he searched past them trying to glimpse Abby’s reaction while they took him through the door. With one last look, he finally connected with her dark, haunted eyes.
“Think about Sarah,” Lincoln hollered as the door closed before he had a chance to see if it had made a difference.
♥
The hands of the clock next to her bed moved slowly as Sarah looked at it for the hundredth time.
“Nathan said he’d phone,” Robin said, hoping to ease the agony of waiting on Sarah’s face.
“I know,” she said as she fidgeted on her bed. Sarah picked at the fabric pills on her sweatpants and then brushed away a few pieces of lint before she looked over at the clock again. Barely a minute had passed.
“Come on.” Robin jumped to her feet. “You’re driving yourself crazy and you’re making me nuts. Let’s go downstairs and see what we can find on the TV.”
Fear instantly replaced the anxiety of waiting. “No.” Sarah leaned away from the nurse, and from the idea.
“Nathan and Lincoln are gone, and the rest of the staff have the day off. The house is ours.” Robin hoped to see some sign that she had piqued her interest. When there was no response, she tried a different tack. “Abby is news, and I can guarantee the press will be covering whatever is happening. So, you can sit and drive yourself crazy, or you can follow me downstairs to the TV and we can see what is going on.” She saw the want cross Sarah’s face. “Come on, it’s just you and me.”
Sarah turned to face her. “Can’t you bring a TV in here?”
“What do I look like, Superman? The TV that’s downstairs is bigger than you are.” She waited. “It’s up to you. Do you want to go downstairs and see if we can find out what’s going on, or do you want to wait here?”
Sarah didn’t move but Robin felt she was going to. Patiently she waited while Sarah struggled with the last of her inner demons, then Robin moved to the side of the bed. With Sarah’s good hand on Robin’s forearm and the nurse’s other arm around her small waist, the two slowly made their way out of the room.
They stopped at the top of the stairs to give Sarah a chance to catch her breath. Looking down at the black and white tile of the entranceway below, Sarah offered a small smile.
Seeing the rare sight, Robin wondered what had brought it on. “You okay?”
“Yes. I was just wondering if all rich people bought their tiles at the same place. My parents’ entranceway has the same tile.”
Robin looked down and smiled herself. “Beats me. The only thing black and white in my parents’ house was the TV.”
They made their way down the stairs, and within a few minutes they were in Nathan’s den.
“You weren’t kidding.” Sarah motioned toward the TV that stood taller than she did.
“No, I wasn’t.” Robin chuckled as she got Sarah seated and then picked up the remote. With a click and a hum, the TV screen began to brighten. Robin searched through the channels looking for one of the several local stations.
“There,” Sarah said as she pointed to the screen and to the reporter standing on the front steps. “Turn it up.” The low muffled conversation came to life.
“Lincoln Quinn was also a detective on the Ward case before he resigned to work for Mr. Holoman in the defense of his former partner, Abby Stanfield.” The screen flashed to a departmental picture of A
bby, taken at an earlier time in her career.
The TV screen split and the newscaster appeared on screen next to the on-location reporters. “Ms. Stanfield is due in the courtroom anytime now, and we will let you know as soon as we learn anything. I’m Nancy Deveres for KGTV, outside the courthouse.”
“Thank you, Nancy. Abby Stanfield, the wealthy former detective who has been charged with the grisly murder of William Daniel Ward, has fired her high priced lawyer...”
Sarah looked at Robin in surprise. “I’m sure she knows what she’s doing,” Robin said.
“Does she?” Sarah turned back to watch more of the newscast.
“It is speculated that Miss Stanfield may be looking to throw herself on the mercy of the Court, but pleading guilty when the State is seeking the death penalty, well, that is just...”
Sarah’s lips parted as the anguish erupted through her. An undistinguishable sound came from her throat as she turned in panic. “Death penalty!” she said through her wired jaw.
Robin quickly moved to Sarah’s side. “I thought you knew. Oh, sweet Jesus, I thought you knew.” Reaching for the remote, she muted the TV.
“She’s pleading guilty, and they want to execute her.” Her eyes were wide and her face pale, as Robin did her best to try to reassure Sarah.
“Nathan and Lincoln aren’t going to let that happen.”
“They knew and they didn’t tell me.” Fear and disbelief warred as she thought about the consequences of Abby’s decision. Bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, a small sob escaped through her lips. “Abby, why? Why would she plead guilty?”
It was a question Robin didn’t have an answer for. She saw the TV picture return to outside of the courthouse and without saying a word, reached for the remote and increased the volume.