by C L Hart
She looked up and saw her uncle’s face. “What?”
Nathan pulled off his glasses. “Abby,” he looked her squarely in the eyes, “did you kill him?”
She glanced at the papers covering the table, and then at her hands. There was a long, heavy pause before she spoke. “No, but I think I know who did!”
♥
They had taken Abby back to her cell, despondent and totally exhausted. Nathan sat there long after his niece was out of sight. With his head in his hands, he thought about what she had said. It was possible, but was it probable? And if so, how the hell was he going to prove it?
♥
Sarah was exercising when she heard Lincoln’s car pull into the driveway. It was still early in the afternoon and she was surprised to see him at the mansion. Resuming the exercises her therapist had assigned her, she stopped when she heard raised voices coming from the study. Grabbing a towel, she threw it around her neck and headed out the door.
“But you’re her lawyer,” Lincoln hollered.
“And I’m also her uncle, but I still can’t tell her what to do. I work for her; she’s the client.”
Descending the staircase, Sarah didn’t like what she was hearing.
“She can’t drop this bombshell on us a week before trial. There’s no way that we can—”
“What bombshell?” Sarah asked from the doorway to the study. Both men stopped talking to look at her. “What bombshell?” she persisted.
Nathan threw up his hands and then gestured for Lincoln to tell her as he sat down at his desk.
“Abby thinks she’s figured out who killed Ward,” Lincoln said stubbornly in Nathan’s direction.
“That’s good news, right? I don’t understand…what are you so upset about?” She looked at Lincoln and then at Nathan.
“Because of who she thinks it was!” Nathan spat out in disbelief.
Sarah waited, but neither gave her the information she was waiting for. “Who?”
“She thinks Billy killed himself to frame her.” Nathan’s tone lacked enthusiasm.
Sarah said nothing as she walked over and took a seat in one of the overstuffed leather chairs. “Is it even possible?”
“No,” Nathan said sadly. “I think she’s spending too much time thinking and it’s affecting her psychologically. I honestly think she may be losing her mind in there.”
“And I don’t,” Lincoln fired back. “Ward was one crazy bastard, and he was twisted enough to do it.”
“No, Lincoln, you have to be twisted enough to believe it.”
“But he did have the smarts to set it up. He had the weapon from her house, he had the opportunity to put it all in motion, and God knows he had the motive. He hated Abby!”
“Lincoln, enough!” Nathan said firmly.
“But could he have?” Sarah asked hesitantly. “I mean...”
“The evidence leads the trail.”
“Lincoln, it is too preposterous.”
“Not if you put it all together. We know he was high on drugs and booze, so — what if he starts to cut himself at the motel, just enough to bleed everywhere. He wouldn’t have felt it. Then he goes to the iron bridge at the edge of the park, finishes the job, jumps into the rain-swollen river, knowing it would batter his body. The rain stops, the water recedes, leaving his corpse high and dry with no surrounding evidence.” Lincoln looked from Sarah to a doubting Nathan. “Look, I followed the creek. The only way he got in that water is from the iron bridge. There is a grate just before the bridge that would have stopped his body otherwise. So that is the starting point.”
Sarah waited as the two men stood contemplating the information.
“It’s possible, Nathan, trust me. But if she wants us to try to prove it, then we need to get a continuance, and Abby refuses.”
This was news to Sarah. “Why would she do that?”
Neither of the men answered her as the question hung with a heavy echo. She looked from Lincoln to Nathan, and back. "I don't get it, why would she do that? Someone answer me."
Nathan walked over and opened the window. “In all my years in the law, I’ve come across a select few clients who didn’t belong in jail.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I don’t mean because they were innocent. I’m referring to people who can’t be locked up, sane people who lose their minds just by being behind bars.” Nathan turned back to them. “Have you ever seen a wildflower that’s been planted inside, away from the sun and the wind? No matter what you do for it, it dies because it was never meant to be indoors. That’s what’s happening to Abby; she’s dying in there.”
“Then we have to get her out. We have to do something,” Sarah pleaded.
“She is doing something. She’s forging through, pushing for an ending regardless of the outcome. She wants it over with.”
“But doesn’t she realize that pushing this through without us being totally prepared could cost her her life?” Lincoln objected.
“I don’t think she knows what’s happening to her. She just knows she wants it over.”
“You’re scaring me, Nathan,” Sarah said quietly.
“I don’t mean to.”
Sarah swallowed her fear and took a breath. “Can I get in to see her?”
Months ago, it was what everyone had hoped for. Now it broke Nathan’s heart when he shook his head. “No, there’s no way I can get you in.”
“But if I can—”
“I’m sorry, Sarah. If there was a way, I would pursue it, but there just isn’t.”
They grew silent, each lost in thought about what Abby was going through and what they could do to help her.
Nathan returned to his desk. Lincoln examined the documents and pictures on the table.
“So now what?” Sarah asked the two experts who turned to look at each other for answers they didn’t have.
“If Abby says she thinks Billy killed himself, then that’s what I believe,” Lincoln said as he sifted through some papers.
Nathan jumped up from his desk. “Do you realize what you’re proposing?”
“Yes, I do, Nathan. I believe what my partner is telling me. Ward was one sick man, but he was a clever man, clever and calculating.”
“So you want me and twelve jurors to believe he cut off his own penis, jumped off the old iron bridge into the river, just to make it look like someone beat him up!” Nathan paced and ranted. “You want me to make them all forget about the fingerprints, the forensic evidence... Oh, yeah, let’s not forget about that annoying little picture of Abby at the motel.”
“Well, we already know there are inconsistencies with some of the forensic tests,” Lincoln stated as he looked over the messy table.
“Yes, however we don’t know what that means to a jury.” Nathan walked over to stand beside the table.
“But you said you had gotten people off with less,” Lincoln said.
“Reasonable doubt is reasonable doubt, but with so much evidence against Abby, I need more information to sway a jury.”
“What inconsistencies?” Sarah asked.
Realizing her knowledge of the case was sketchy, Lincoln and Nathan quickly filled in what information they could as she stood looking over the evidence on the table.
The first thing she saw was a picture of Billy Ward, taken when he had been arrested. It was the first time she had seen him since his attack on her and she glared disdainfully at the picture. Unconsciously she reached up and touched the thick scar on her neck as she recalled his voice, his sadistic laugh, and the hatred he had for Abby.
Lincoln was watching Sarah carefully, and when her hand went to her throat, he glanced over at Nathan for his take on the gesture. Nathan’s expression told him he didn’t like what he had seen either.
“Sarah,” Lincoln said gently, but there was no immediate response. She was in the grip of a strong mix of emotions she wasn’t aware she possessed.
“You know, I was never one who believed in the justice of 'an eye for an eye', but I’m gl
ad he’s dead.” She tossed the picture down onto a stack of other photos. Trying her best to ignore the emotions pulsing through her, she glanced over the rest of the table, pushing back several photos until she pulled Abby’s mug shot from the pile.
Her finger traced Abby’s face. “She looks tired in this,” she murmured.
Moving closer, Lincoln looked down at the picture. “She was. I’d just brought her from the hospital.”
“I guess it wasn’t a picnic for anyone.” She looked up at Lincoln with the odd tilt of her head that was a legacy of the attack.
“She never left your side, not until she was forced to.”
“And if she had just stayed...” Sarah let the comment die on her lips as her gaze fell on some of the full color photos of Billy’s body at the crime scene.
Lincoln reached for the glossy prints. “Maybe you shouldn’t be looking at some of this stuff.”
“I want to help,” she said as she moved the pictures out of his reach. “I do have a brain and I know how to use it.” She stood her ground, but Lincoln could see the thin cracks showing in her emotional armor. “Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to go take a quick shower, and then I’ll be down to help in whatever way I can.” With her newly healed jaw set firm in decision, Sarah turned and left the room.
“Strong-willed women — you can love them or hate them, but you surely can’t ignore them,” Nathan said wryly.
“Don’t let ’em fool you, Nathan,” Lincoln said as he watched Sarah make her way up the stairs. He turned back to look at his boss. “It’s hard to be tough when your bottom lip’s quivering. I’ll be right back.”
♥
Sarah?” Lincoln tapped on her door.
“Ah...just a sec.”
He could hear muffled sounds and then a moment later she opened the door with an attempt at a smile. Lincoln could tell that at one time, her smile must have been as vibrant as the green of her eyes, but the scars would no longer allow the corner of her mouth to lift.
“I was just going to jump into the shower,” she said, gesturing toward her bathroom.
Glancing in that direction, Lincoln could see that the mirror, which had been removed at her request, still hadn’t been returned. “I just wanted to talk to you. I haven’t had much of a chance to do that lately.” He looked around, noticing the changes to her room. The curtains were pulled back, and the window and the door to her private deck were open to the refreshing ocean breeze.
“You don’t have to baby-sit me anymore, Lincoln. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”
“I know that, Sarah. I’m not here to baby-sit you. I’m here as a concerned friend.”
“I’m okay...really.” She walked over to the window.
“Funny,” he said, “from here it looks like you’ve been crying.”
She turned to face him with all the inner strength and courage she could muster. “Is that a crime?”
“Only if you’re lying about it.” They locked eyes and though Sarah did her best to stand her ground, Lincoln saw through her tough façade. The harder she tried to hide it, the more her bottom lip trembled as the tears grew in her eyes. “Sarah...”
She put her arm out to stop him. “Please don’t.” She took several deep, cleansing breaths until she had regained her self-control. “It’s just...after what Nathan said, I can’t imagine what she’s going through and...I wasn’t aware they had so much evidence against her.”
“They do. A lot of it’s circumstantial, but there’s no denying that proving her innocence will be an uphill climb.”
That brought another wave of emotion that threatened her steely determination. Annoyed at showing her vulnerability, she angrily brushed back a tear that had squeezed through. “And I want to help. So let me.”
Her tenacity made him smile and she did her best to return it. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
Leaning back, Sarah looked out the window over the vast Pacific Ocean. “She was there for me when I needed her. By my side. Now I want to be there for her. I can’t think about what my future would look like without her in it.”
“You’ve been there for her, Sarah. You’re good for each other, and you deserve to be together.”
“Thanks, Lincoln, that means a lot to me.”
“You’re an incredible woman, Sarah. It isn’t hard to see why Abby fell in love with you.”
She stood on tiptoe and pulled his head down far enough to place a kiss on his cheek. As he straightened, he looked hard into her eyes, and then he glanced over the scars on her face. He hadn’t meant to, but he did it and he saw her instant reaction. Sarah’s smile quickly faded and she brought up a hand to cover the side of her face as she turned away. Without a word, she went out onto her small deck.
Silently cursing at himself, Lincoln quickly followed. “Sarah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
With her back to him, she held up a hand to stop his words. “It’s a natural reaction. I’m going to have to learn to live with it.”
He knew the words were right, but they weren’t the truth. “But you don’t have to learn to live with it. Dr. Greene’s one of the best plastic surgeons on the West Coast. He has said—”
“Stop. It’s something I... It’s who I am now, and I have to learn to deal with it.”
She still hadn’t turned to face him and he knew why, “But I don’t understand. You don’t have to—”
“Lincoln, this is my life. I’ll decide how I’m going to live it.”
“But are you? Living it, I mean?” He didn’t mean to be cruel but he thought a small push might be what she needed.
Sarah recalled saying words very similar to Abby, and it fired something deep inside her. When she turned around, anger and resentment burned in her eyes. “Yes, I am. Every day.”
“Really? Doesn’t look like it to me,” he taunted. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
The direct and painful comment blindsided her, and she reacted like an animal that bites out of fear. “Get out!” she snarled, pointing at the open patio door.
Lincoln stood unmoving. “Sarah, I didn’t mean to—”
“How dare you!” Her eyes grew darker as her fear turned to anger. “How dare you!” she shot. “Get out of my room, Lincoln.”
“No.” He moved closer to her. “You can’t keep walking around avoiding your reflection.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. My reflection is my problem. I would think you would have enough to deal with without looking for more.” She took a step toward him.
“I do...and I will,” he fired back at her. “Right after you face what you’re most afraid of — the image in your mind.”
“What would you know about what’s in my mind?”
“You should know that isn’t what you look like anymore. You need to face the repugnance that your mind has created because that is the only place it exists.”
“I will face what I want to face, and I’ll do what I want to do, when I want to do it. Now for the last time, get out of my room!”
“Hey...hey...hey, enough already!” Robin came out on to the deck. “I could hear you two all the way on the other side of the house.” She looked from Lincoln to Sarah. “Drop it, both of you.”
“Right after he minds his own business,” Sarah snarled.
“Which I’ll do, once you realize what is in your mind isn’t what the rest of us see.”
“Lincoln, enough!” Robin ordered. “I think it’s time for you to go.” She waited, and when he made no move to leave, she pulled at his arm. “Now.” Escorting him out into the hallway, she closed the door behind them and glared at him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m trying to help her.”
“Help her? My understanding is that your knowledge is in the law enforcement field, not psychiatry. Sarah needs time. What you’re doing is not helping her. If you push too hard, the psychological damage could be devastating. Do you not understand that?”
It
was only then, Lincoln realized his emotions had pushed him beyond what his mind should have told him. He ran his hand through his short hair, then scratched at the back of his neck. “Oh, man, what’ve I done? I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. One minute we were just talking, and then... I need to go back in there.” He reached for the door handle, but Robin blocked his way.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Give her some time. When she’s ready, she’ll look to see what is there. But a mirror will give her only one point of view; it won’t show what’s inside. When the time comes that she wants to deal with that, she will. You can’t push it.”
They talked for a while longer, and then Lincoln reluctantly left Sarah’s well-being in the hands of the professional. Robin waited for him to reach the stairs before she opened the door and went in to see what kind of psychological damage had been done. Much to her surprise, Sarah was just coming out of the bathroom, her hair still wet from her shower.
“Hi,” she said.
“You okay?” Robin asked.
Sarah stopped and looked out of the window. “Would it matter how I answered that?”
“Yes, it would, but I would prefer the truth.”
Sarah looked down at her hands, tracing her finger along her deadened thumb. It was such a strange feeling for her still, to see her movements, but not be able to feel them. “I’m a little screwed up right now,” she finally admitted as she looked at the view out of her window. “On the one hand, everything seems to be happening quickly and I can’t stop it. Hell, I can’t even get it to slow down. On the other hand, things are going so slowly it’s frustrating.”
Sarah touched the scar on her neck, but even if she hadn’t, Robin knew exactly what she was talking about. “Maybe it’s time for you to really open up and talk to someone, maybe someone other than your psychiatrist.”
“The only person I really want to talk to has black hair and brown eyes, and is in a place I can not reach her,” Sarah said as she strolled past Robin out to her deck. “I don’t want to talk to anyone else anymore.”
The young nurse followed her and the two stood silently at the iron rail for a long time. “I’m scared, Robin,” Sarah finally whispered.