by C L Hart
“…a short scuffle between Lincoln Quinn and several of the court officers. A very angry Judge Porter cited Mr. Quinn for contempt of court, fined him five hundred dollars and sentenced him to a night in jail. The bailiffs then took Mr. Quinn away, but not before he shouted out for Sarah. Miss Stanfield silently watched the whole proceeding from behind the defendant’s table.
“So, who is Sarah? The enigmatic woman who was brutally attacked —”
“Sarah! Sarah, look at me,” Robin pleaded, but it was too late…the images were already there.
Sarah felt her world freeze as she watched her face looming larger than life on the enormous TV. A full glorious color picture — her picture — before Billy got to her face. That photo faded away when they showed the video of Sarah being wheeled out of the motel with a blood soaked Abby by her side. The detective's face was grim and intense, her eyes focused on her hands holding onto Sarah's throat. Abby’s tearstained face was ghostly pale as the paramedic rushed the gurney past the camera to the waiting ambulance. Sarah grew weak at the sight of her bloodied and battered face.
“Sarah...look at me!” Robin demanded while attempting to block Sarah’s view of the screen. “Sarah, that was the past. You survived.” Robin looked into her eyes and she could see that the damage had already been done. The horrified woman who had been in the hospital, the one who had seen her face in the mirror, sat unmoving, and Robin had no idea what to do.
“Sarah, don’t let that image back inside. It’s not you. What you remember is not you!” Robin knew the only image Sarah had of herself was what she had seen in the mirror. Sarah lifted her face and turned her eyes to stare into Robin’s. There was an anger there Robin had not seen before.
“You’re right, Robin. What I remember is no longer me.” With effort, she pulled herself to her feet and left without saying another word, Robin following behind her the whole way, until she reached the top of the stairs. “I would like to be alone, thank you,” she said without turning around.
“Sarah, I would prefer—”
“I would prefer to be alone.” With a wave of her hand she moved slowly down the hallway and disappeared into her room.
♥
When Nathan walked in the front door of his home, he saw Robin sitting on the stairs. The look on her face told him there was bad news. The door remained open as he quickly crossed the foyer. “Robin?”
“I thought we’d made this great breakthrough, you know. I got her to come out of her room and down the stairs. Progress, one step at a time,” she said bitterly. “And then, just like that,” Robin snapped her fingers, “she takes two steps back.”
Nathan dropped his briefcase and joined her on the stairs. “What happened?”
“She saw it all on TV.”
“Saw what?”
“Everything — but mainly that gruesome video of them wheeling her out of the motel.”
“Oh, my God.”
“You could say that. First she hears the news that they’re seeking the death penalty, and that didn’t go over well. Your department! Then just as we were getting over that, they broke in with Lincoln’s little fiasco.” Robin pondered the afternoon with a deep sigh. “And then the dumb bastards had to go and show that bloody video again. She flipped.” Robin looked over at Nathan, hoping to find some answers. “I don’t know what to do with her. I’m not a psychiatrist, I’m a nurse.”
“You’re doing just fine, Robin, better than we are.”
“I know. Your day wasn’t much better.”
“Not really. Lincoln’s little fiasco, as you call it, was in hopes of getting Abby to at least talk to one of us.”
“And?”
“She read the poem Sarah had written her and then she stood up in front of Judge Porter and requested a new bail hearing.”
“A new bail hearing? Is that possible?”
“No, but she had to do something. So Porter denied her request and advised her to seek new counsel. To which my lovely niece replied that if she had to have counsel, then she wanted it to be family.”
“Family?” Robin lifted her eyebrows.
"Family."
“She told everyone you are related.”
“Yes, she did, which sent the reporters scurrying like the rats they are.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because, my dear,” he said with a smile as he rose to his feet and looked up the stairs, “that’s now the lead story. And most of the reporters should forget Lincoln yelled out Sarah’s name. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go talk to Sarah.”
♥
After knocking on the door, Nathan poked his head inside the room and was surprised to see Sarah seated at the table. “Quite a day,” he declared. “For both of you,” he added as he closed the door. Sarah said nothing as she kept her eyes on the table and the notepad in front of her. “Sarah, I’m sorry. Lincoln and I decided that—
“Who are you to decide anything for me?”
Nathan was taken aback by her anger. Sarah had barely raised her voice above a whisper and now she glared at him with all the fury and frustration she could muster.
“Everyone is making decisions, and no one is asking or telling me anything!”
“I had every intention of telling you, but my mind’s been on Abby.”
“Abby! She’s making the biggest decision of all, and she isn’t thinking about anyone but herself!”
“The problem is that she has too much time to think about everyone but herself. She has all but consumed herself with guilt — over everything, over you.” Seeing the impact of his words, Nathan changed the subject. “But how she feels about you, that’s what made her change her mind.” Nathan sat on the edge of the bed, facing Sarah at the table. “You did what no one else could do — you got through that thick head of hers.”
“How did I do that?”
“Lincoln’s little distraction was designed for me to get your poem to her. We didn’t know what else to do.”
“And?”
Sarah looked over at him and Nathan smiled. “I’ve a meeting to see her tomorrow. I thought maybe you’d like to come with me.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “No.”
Nathan was taken aback. “Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
She fought her inner fears, but she couldn’t quell them all. “Because I don’t want her to see me like this.”
“Wait, help me out here. Abby saw you at the worst of it, and that never altered her love for you.”
“I don’t care,” she shot back.
“I think you do care. I think you’re afraid. But you shouldn’t be. Abby loves you and you love her. I won’t sit here and pretend that I understand women, lesbians or not, but I know when I see two people in love, and damn it, Sarah, you love her and she loves you.”
“Nathan, you don’t know how she would react.”
“Yes, I do. She would react as she did today.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Sarah turned with anger in her eyes. “What if she doesn’t? I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t. I see the pity in everyone’s eyes when they look at me, pity and fear that it could have been them.”
“I think you’re selling my niece short.”
“You’re right, Nathan. She’s strong-willed and strong-minded enough to stand beside me because it’s the right thing to do, because she feels she should.”
“Sarah—”
“Nathan, it’s been a long day and I’m extremely tired.” Sarah stood up from the table and moved to the bed.
Nathan moved to give her room and watched her face as she lay down. He was not going to give in to her refusal that easily, but he saw the exhaustion on her face. “This isn’t finished,” he said as he stood to leave.
“Yes, it is,” she said as she slid further into her bed and turned her back to him. “Yes, it is.”
Chapter 27
“Nathan, have you looked over this evidence?” Lincoln lo
oked up from his desk to gaze at the lawyer sitting perched on the wide windowsill.
Nathan peered over his glasses at him. “Most of it, but I haven’t gotten all of it from de Barr.” Nathan noticed the perplexed expression on Lincoln’s face. “Why, is there something I should be looking for?”
“I’m not sure.” Nathan pulled off his glasses. “The whole motel room thing still bothers me. I mean, why the two motels? Doesn't that bother you?”
“Lincoln, I’m a lawyer. Everything bothers me.”
“Maybe I should take a trip down to the lab and see what Hyme can tell me.”
“Fred Hyamensky is still working forensics?”
“He’s in charge of the Crime Scene Unit, but he rarely leaves the lab now. I don’t think he’ll ever leave CSU. I think it’s his dream to have his dead body analyzed in his own lab.”
“Well, just remember you’re working for the other side now.”
“I know.” Lincoln stood up and grabbed his coat off the back of the chair. “I’m gonna pop up and say hi to Sarah before I leave.”
“She hasn’t left her room again, you know,” Nathan said with regret. “It’s been how many weeks? When I go in to see her, she barely acknowledges my presence. According to Robin, she hardly talks to anyone. The therapists come and go, and she does what she needs to, but not much more.”
“I know. I went in a few days ago and mentioned again that we could get her in to see Abby.”
“And?” Nathan asked with interest.
“I got no reply. She’ll talk to me, just not a lot, and definitely not about Abby.”
Nathan frowned. “But she’s still sending her notes and letters.”
“Yes, but that’s it.”
“The deposition Sarah gave de Barr didn’t help either. Dr. Greene was here yesterday and he wasn’t surprised by her slow recovery. He said writing out the whole experience again could be of benefit, though it could also be detrimental. Physically she’s healing fine, a little slow, but fine.” Nathan sat down at his desk and rubbed his face. “I just don’t know what else to do for her.”
“I don’t either. She won’t let us put a phone in her room, nor does she want to look at a TV again. She just wants to hide.”
“Yes, but for how long?” Nathan asked. “We’ve a date looming in our near future and after that...”
“Robin has mentioned maybe we should change psychiatrists. This one doesn’t seem to be able to reach Sarah.” Lincoln paused. “But I think what she needs is something none of us can give her.”
“Abby.”
Lincoln turned back to look at him, but they both knew there was nothing more to say.
♥
“Good morning,” Lincoln said. “How’s everyone today?” He removed his coat and left it on the back of the chair at the desk.
Sarah turned to face him, expertly keeping herself in the shadows, concealing most of her scars. “Hi,” she said to him softly through her clenched teeth.
Robin rose from her chair. “I’ll leave the two of you alone.”
Lincoln sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re looking good this morning,” he said honestly. As much as she tried to hide, he could still see the natural beauty coming back to her features. The scars were still red and angry looking, and her head tilted from the cut to her neck, but the real essence of Sarah was starting to return, with or without her help.
“You want to go for a walk in the gardens with me today?” Lincoln asked her the same question every time that he came to see her, but Sarah’s answer was always the same.
“No, thank you.”
“Sarah, are you ever going to leave this room again?” he dared.
With the edge of her fingernail she picked at her blue jeans, refusing to look at him. “Why should I? Everything I want is right here.”
The honest answer took Lincoln by surprise, but he realized she was right. Everything she wanted was right at her fingertips, just as Nathan and Abby had requested.
“You don’t have Abby,” he said softly, and though he saw a physical reaction, she said nothing.
Sarah rarely said much of anything, but her mind was never silent. Thoughts of Abby and their precious time together kept her sane. She had a longing, one she had no idea how to deal with, an ache in her heart that filled her with doubt and fear. She and Abby had exchanged letters, poems, thoughts, dreams and ideas, however some things were never said or referred to. For Sarah, it was the memories she had. The reflection she had seen in a cracked mirror haunted her almost as much as a pair of wanting dark eyes. But will she ever want me again? The question bored a hole in her.
“Sarah?”
Lincoln had been speaking, but as usual, she heard only pieces of what he had said.
“Are you listening to me? Come out and join us. You leave your room for your therapy, why not come down and have a meal with me and Nathan?”
“Sucking a puréed meal through a straw isn’t exactly eating.” Her tone hinted at some strong emotions hovering just below her calm exterior.
“Then at least let us put a phone in here. I can make arrangements for you to talk to Abby.”
“I’m not ready,” she said.
But Lincoln wasn’t sure if that was what she meant. He knew she was scared, and he was pretty sure he knew why. “It’d be good for her to hear your voice. I think it’d be good for both of you.” He watched her as she struggled against what he knew was in her heart. Maybe a different approach. “She needs you, Sarah. She needs to know that you’re here and you’re okay.”
She pressed her lips together tightly, but he could still see the emotional quiver that couldn’t be hidden. Bringing her hand up, Sarah covered her mouth. “She gets my letters, she knows.”
“She needs to hear it from you. She needs to hear your voice—”
“I can’t,” she said.
“Can’t, or won’t?” He didn’t let up. “I think it’s time for you to make a decision, Sarah, before it’s too late. They’ve got a hell of a case against her, and if we lose, you’re going to spend the rest of your life wishing you had this time back.” Lincoln knew he was pushing, but he needed to get through to her. “She loves you, Sarah. Maybe you need to ask yourself if you love her.”
Fire flew from emerald eyes. “How dare you! I do love her. Don’t you ever question that.” This time the snarl coming through her clenched teeth had nothing to do with her wired jaw.
“Then prove it.” The challenge was issued, but the fire quickly went out and the ever-present fear returned. Lincoln saw it happen right before his eyes.
“I can’t.” There were tears in her eyes as she rolled over to face the wall. “Not yet.” The conversation was over.
Lincoln sat there for a long time, listening to her breathing as he watched her back. He didn’t understand her reluctance, but then again he wasn’t her. Patience was what Dr. Greene and Robin impressed on him and Nathan, though there were times when they didn’t understand, any more than they could understand what Abby was going through.
He searched his mind for an answer. Sarah needed a gentle push, however he had no idea how to provide it. He rose slowly from the bed and whispered a goodbye. Lincoln reached for his coat, but his hand stopped in mid air when a thought popped into his head. In need of an accomplice, he went in search of Robin, leaving his coat behind.
♥
His tie loosened and hanging just below his collar, Nathan sat across from his niece in one of the glass interview rooms. Since her little escapade with the guards, they were no longer given the seclusion of solid walls. Nothing could be heard, but everything could be seen.
“I’m just saying, Abby, they have motive and opportunity, and they have the murder weapon with your prints on it.”
Abby was sitting on the back of the chair with her elbows on her knees. The change of scene from her cell had improved her disposition, but not by much. “I know that.” She saw Lincoln coming down the hall. “So what do we do now?”
&nbs
p; “We take each point they have and we destroy it any way we can.” Nathan’s eyes shifted to the door as it opened. “Lincoln.” He nodded in greeting.
“Nathan, sorry I’m late. I was longer with Hyme than I thought I’d be.”
“How is ol’ Hyme?” Abby asked.
“I had a nice chat with him, a very interesting chat.” Lincoln pulled two files from his attaché case and handed one to each of them.
“What’s this?” Nathan asked as he put on his glasses.
“It’s the forensics results from Billy’s apartment,” Abby said as she slowly read through the papers. “This is what I read when they brought me in.” She looked up at Lincoln.
“Not quite.” He reached for his own copy. “This is what was found, as far as prints went — on the counter in the motel room, and on the knife.”
“So what?” Nathan questioned.
“There were only three sets of prints found, one on a glass, a partial on the counter...and the full set on the knife.”
Abby didn’t get it, and in some ways she didn’t care. Her life was a mess. Billy was dead, Buck was dead, and Sarah... Oh, Sarah.
“Abby, are you with us here? Concentrate, please. An entire murder scene and there are only three sets of prints. What’s their argument? You wore gloves the entire time until it came to holding the knife and grabbing the counter? And according to Hyme, when they started their tests on the prints, he noticed something peculiar.”
Nathan pulled off his glasses. “Define peculiar.”
“He found something interesting with the talcum powder from the inside of latex gloves,” he explained.
“This is relevant because? I mean, everyone wears gloves at a crime scene, especially when they are lifting prints,” Abby said.
“Yes, but Hyme drew to my attention two things.” Lincoln held up two fingers. “First, the high amount of talc around the evidence, mainly the cellophane transfers and the bookbinding tape, where there should be only minute traces, if any; and second, the talc comes from Jensen brand gloves and is chemical based.”