Facing Evil

by C L Hart

  Agreeing with his colleague, the other reporter jumped into his car and they both left in pursuit. The pair smiled with delight as they followed a safe distance behind the limo, each dreaming about the money he was going to get for a picture.

  Ten long nervous minutes later, Abby’s black Jeep emerged slowly through the tall iron gates. Wrapped in a scarf and large dark glasses, Sarah looked left and right, but there was no one there to see her as she zoomed off with directions to Lincoln’s house held tightly in her shaking hand.

  ♥

  Sarah was nervous about meeting someone new, though it took only a few minutes for Carla to put her at ease. Lincoln had given his wife little notice, but it had been enough for her to quickly buy a few groceries and get dinner started before Sarah arrived. By the time Lincoln walked in the door, Sarah was sitting at the table, chatting with Carla and sipping tea.

  “Any problems?” he asked her as he approached his wife and kissed her cheek.

  “Nope. Carla had the garage door open and was waiting for me. I can’t believe that it worked,” Sarah said.

  “I figured they’d go after anything that left Nathan’s. They knew what everyone had been driving in and out of the gates, and I was sure they hadn’t counted on Abby’s Jeep being there.”

  It felt strange for Sarah to be out and away from the mansion. She hadn’t realized what a sense of security the house had given her. Carla and Lincoln had made her feel welcome, but she was far from feeling at home.

  After dinner, Sarah insisted on helping with the dishes. It was something normal that never happened at Nathan’s. Lincoln sat down on the sofa and without thinking, turned on the TV. Before the picture even developed on the black screen, they all heard Abby’s name from the set. Lincoln immediately pressed the button to change the channel.

  Sarah left her dishtowel on the table and went into the living room. “Go back, please.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Lincoln, please.”

  Sarah stood watching as the images of her and Lincoln in the rose garden came up on the screen. Each still picture flashed before them: Lincoln with his arm around her, Sarah holding up her hand and turning her face away as her hair was tossed wildly, the pair scurrying for the shelter of the house. Sarah lowered herself to sit next to Lincoln as the last image froze on the screen. It looked like the first shot taken. Sarah’s green eyes were open wide in fear and confusion, and the clear photo showed the details of each of her scars.

  Lincoln and Carla waited for some response from Sarah, but she sat silently looking for the first time at her real image. When the segment was over, Lincoln muted the TV. “Sarah?”

  There was a pause as she tried to master her emotions, roiling just below the surface, before she turned to smile at Lincoln. “They didn’t exactly get my good side, did they?”

  Chapter 30

  Lying in the darkness, Sarah had no idea what the time was or how long she had slept. A distant thump tore her from her thoughts. Pulling back her comforter, she moved stealthily across the bedroom and peered out the window. Through the dim light of early morning, she saw a small figure hurrying down the Quinns’ sidewalk — to his bike.

  “Paperboy,” she whispered to herself in relief. She was about to go back to bed when her curiosity won over her fear. Quietly, she left her room, crossed the kitchen, opened the door and scooped up the newspaper. Taking it back into the kitchen, she sat down at the table and stared at the headlines.

  The Missing Victim — Sarah’s Scars

  The bold print screamed at her, though she couldn’t bring herself to unfold the paper to see the pictures. “I can do this,” she whispered to herself as she reached out, but her hand was shaking so hard she had to regroup. Looking down at her hands, pictures flashed through her mind — images frozen in time that would forever be part of her life: her face prior to leaving for the resort, her bloody body being wheeled out of the motel with Abby by her side, her face in the mirror. Lifting her eyes, she stared at the paper until she realized it wasn’t a picture she needed to be able to look at, but the truth of what she had become. “Facing evil, isn’t that what Abby said?”

  Pushing her chair back, Sarah strode to the small bathroom next to the garage. Flipping on the lights, she kept her eyes on the counter.

  “I can do this, I can do this,” she whispered over and over to herself. “It’s not that bad.” But the memory of what she had seen in the hospital burned in her mind. Closing her eyes, she searched for the inner strength she knew she had and the courage that made her who she was.

  “Sarah.” It was Lincoln’s voice calling for her.

  “I’m in here,” she answered.

  Lincoln had seen the newspaper on the table and the bold headlines. He hurried fearfully toward the bathroom.

  Ignoring him, she kept her eyes on the counter as she swallowed several times, trying to bring some moisture back into her dry mouth. “I can do this,” she said, as she took a deep breath and looked into the mirror.

  Locking eyes with her reflection, Sarah stared into the familiar green as Lincoln came into the bathroom. Slowly, she reached up to her image in the mirror and then stopped. Turning her hand, she brought her fingertips toward the bridge of her nose and the jagged scar that ran across it. As she had done so many times before, she traced the smooth tender skin, but this time she watched as she did. Gently, she followed the scar over and over again as she moved closer and closer to the mirror.

  “It’s me, isn’t it?” she asked softly to Lincoln.

  He told her the truth. “Yes, Sarah, it’s you.”

  Licking her lips, she felt the sagging corner of her mouth. “You know, I still remember the sound of those first punches, after he dragged me to that other room.” She brought her finger down and played with the scar at the corner of her mouth. “Not the pain so much, just the sound. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out.”

  “That was because of the dieffenbachia paste,” Lincoln said.

  Turning her head slowly from side to side, she examined the damage left behind by a madman — a sunken cheek, several small jagged lines that had been opened by his fists, and a drooping lip. “I don’t remember much after that, but I recall him laughing.” Sarah brought her face around and then lifted her chin at an angle to get a better view of her neck.

  “I remember him holding me up by my hair as he waited, but I didn’t know what he was waiting for.” She tenderly ran her fingers along the red scar on her neck as her eyes drifted away from what she saw. “He told me that he wanted her to watch me die. I didn’t realize then he was referring to Abby.” Sarah lifted her eyes and looked to Lincoln. “He wanted her to see me die.”

  “But you didn’t. You never gave him that satisfaction. You fought to stay alive. You won, Sarah. You beat him.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” She stood there for a moment and then closed the distance between them, accepting the offer of Lincoln’s arms around her. Laying her head against his chest, she shut her eyes and whispered, “I want it to be over. I want my life back.”

  “I wish I could do that for you, turn back time and make all this go away, but I can’t.”

  “I know that. I have to live with what has happened.” She pulled out of his embrace and looked up at him. There was something different in her eyes. “I have to live with what has happened, but I don’t have to live with the scars.”

  “Sarah?”

  “I think maybe,” she turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror, “I’d like to see Dr. Greene now.”

  ♥

  Nathan nodded to the bailiff outside Abby’s door. The officer said nothing but nodded in return as he stepped aside to allow the lawyer access.

  “Good morning, Abby,” Nathan said as he went through the door. He was surprised to see her seated at the table and not in her customary position against the wall. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Sleeping isn’t something I do well,” she answered in a low tone.

>   Nathan turned to look at her and he knew by her smoldering expression that something was amiss. “What’s wrong?”

  She lifted her eyes off the table and focused on him. “You know, it amazes me that you can stand there and ask that, like you have no idea what could be wrong. Is that a lawyer thing? Do you learn that shit in law school? ‘Hide the Truth and Cover Your Ass 101’?”

  Nathan was taken aback. “Where the hell is this coming from?”

  Abby angrily bolted from her chair, but said nothing. After a tense moment, she took a deep breath and walked away from him. “Why is it that even with all the money we have, we can’t protect those we love?”

  The bold question was more of a statement than a query and Nathan knew that as he watched her retreat. A sullen silence filled the room as Abby leaned against the wall. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “She didn’t deserve this...any of it!” Abby finally burst out.

  Only then did he realize where her anger was coming from. “You heard about the reporters?”

  “Heard about it and read about it.”

  “You’ve seen the paper?”

  “In full color.”

  Nathan ran his fingers through his hair. “Abby, we did the best we could, but we knew it wasn’t going to last forever. Once they knew who she was...well, it made her only more sought after. And then yesterday, de Barr gave them her location. I sent Lincoln there as fast as I could, but I couldn’t stop the helicopters.”

  She closed her eyes. “She looked so different,” she said quietly.

  “You mean the scars?” he asked. Abby didn’t answer him. “She was scared, Abby.”

  “Can you blame her?”

  “No.”

  Pushing away from the wall, Abby returned to the table. “Whatever she wants...”

  “Abby,” he interjected, “money isn’t an issue right now.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of now.”

  ♥

  Opening statements finally got underway, and as expected de Barr started off by building up Abby as a highly decorated detective with several commendations and honors, and an unblemished service record — until Billy Ward. Then de Barr painted a different picture of Abby — a reckless detective, one with an uncontrollable bad temper and a desperate need to find a serial killer. Several times he portrayed Abby as a woman bent on vicious revenge. He laid the foundation for the case against her and then laid out all the evidence they had to prove it. When de Barr finished, Porter banged his gavel to announce the lunch recess.

  Abby leaned over to her uncle and whispered in his ear, “If I was on that jury, I’d be thinking, ‘fry the out-of-control bitch.’”

  “That’s enough,” Nathan fired back sternly as he watched the jury file out the door. “I don’t want to hear that again,” he warned as the bailiff motioned for Abby to rise.

  “You saw their faces, Nathan. You tell me what they were thinking,” she said over her shoulder.

  Refusing to acknowledge her, he turned around and looked for Lincoln in the mob of departing people, but there was no sign of him. He thought about what Abby had said. She was smart and she knew, just like he did, that de Barr had done his job.

  ♥

  When the court resumed, Nathan kept his opening statements straightforward and without the dark emotions de Barr had used. He delved more into Abby’s service record and her exemplary work. He explained how her cases were meticulously handled, following every last lead and loose end until there was nothing left. Until the day a young woman was brutally murdered and the case of the “Sadistic Slasher” was handed over to her and Detective Quinn.

  Then Nathan went to work, showing how Billy Ward had taunted the police, daring them to catch him, and how he had then turned his attention and obsession to Abby. After each kill, he goaded her and the entire department, phoning Abby at home and on her cell phone, turning the investigation into something very personal. His fixation and desire for Abby’s attention drove him to destroy everything she loved, but it still wasn’t enough for him.

  Ronald de Barr was a little confused and mildly concerned with the way that Nathan was basically laying out the case against Abby. He, too, was showing how far Billy had pushed her, and it was a questionable defense, until Nathan Holoman did what he was famous for — he opened a door no one had seen. He unexpectedly accused Billy of killing himself as a final desperate attempt to destroy what remained of Abby’s life.

  With all his expertise, Nathan laid out their defense — balancing the evidence to show how far Billy had gone to feed his obsession with Abby, but at the same time showing the professionalism of his client. Billy pushed, but Abby refused to play his game. Using the leniency of opening arguments, Nathan led the jury through Billy’s insane but detailed planning: the inhumane way he ended Buck’s life, and how he burned down Abby’s home, but not before taking one of her kitchen knives to use on himself. He continued with how he had hired a pretty young reporter in hopes of exposing Abby’s personal and private life. When that didn’t work, he — Billy Ward himself— sold the stories to the press under that reporter’s name.

  Abby closed her eyes when Nathan went into details about Billy’s vengeful attack on Sarah, an act that was perpetrated only for one reason — to get back at Abby. When that failed, he ended his own life in one last attempt to take away Abby’s freedom, and possibly her life.

  “When this case is over, the evidence will show that it is Abby Stanfield who is the victim here, and that Billy Ward insanely took his own life in one final attempt to destroy hers. As you can clearly see by our presence here today, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, he almost succeeded, but with your help and understanding of the facts and evidence in this case, you can send a message to him in Hell. His plan didn’t work.” Nathan sat down.

  Abby leaned over to him. “You convinced me,” she whispered. “But then, I know I didn’t do it.”

  ♥

  Nathan and Cheryl walked out the doors of the empty courtroom together, speaking in hushed tones. Nathan looked up with surprise to see Lincoln sitting on one of the benches outside, waiting for him.

  “Lincoln,” he said, concerned. “I’ll see you back at the office, Cheryl.”

  “All right.” She nodded a greeting to Lincoln and then left the two men alone.

  “How did it go?” Lincoln asked as he stood up.

  “The scales of justice sway back and forth, my friend.” Nathan clasped a hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. “It’s best just to be patient. There are twelve jurors and we need just one.”

  “I know that,” he answered, “but which way are they swaying right now?”

  “The evidence is in the prosecution’s favor, though that’ll change once we get into the heart of the case and they hear old Hyme’s testimony. It’s going to be tight,” Nathan said as they walked side by side through the marble hallways of the courthouse. “So, what brings you here? I thought you would be busy with paperwork.”

  Lincoln hesitated long enough to cause Nathan to stop. “Did you see the paper this morning?”

  “Didn’t everyone? Even Abby got her hands on one.”

  “She wasn’t the only one,” Lincoln said in a low tone. “Sarah saw it too.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

  “Because it wasn’t the only thing she saw this morning.”

  ♥

  It wasn’t often that Nathan used his influence and wealth to move and manipulate, but when something was important to him — like his niece — he was relentless. When Sarah decided to have the plastic surgery, he did everything in his power to make it happen, and to make it happen quickly. The first obstacle was arranging for Sarah to see Dr. Greene, although that wasn’t as hard as trying to book the surgical time. But he did it. Sarah was booked for her plastic surgery under a different name at a different hospital.

  Nathan couldn’t have been happier than when he finally got to bring his niece some good news for a change. Abby was pleased a
nd it was she who came up with the answer for Sarah’s housing problem: Gold Creek. It was perfect — away from the trial and away from the press. Judge Porter issued a gag order covering her whereabouts; Sarah would be left alone to heal. Nathan couldn’t wait to tell her. It was a good way to start the day, and in his mind, a good omen at the start of the trial.

  Lincoln was called as de Barr’s first witness, and reluctantly took the witness stand, but it didn’t take de Barr long to realize he wasn’t going to be helpful. With permission from the judge, the ADA treated Lincoln as a hostile witness, and slowly de Barr extracted the information he was looking for. As Abby’s partner, Lincoln confirmed her temper and her obsession with proving Billy’s guilt.

  On Lincoln’s second day of testimony, Sarah was on her way to the hospital with Robin accompanying her. On Lincoln’s third day, Sarah woke up once more inside the white walls of a hospital room. Robin was there by her side as Sarah’s eyes opened in fear and panic.

  “It’s okay, Sarah, you’re all right.” Robin leaned over Sarah’s bandaged face. “Do you remember where you are?”

  One of her hands was attached to an IV drip, so with her other hand, Sarah reached slowly to feel her face. Robin quickly stopped her. “No, no, don’t touch it,” Robin said as she reached over and picked up a cup of water with a straw in it. “Here, this will help your throat.”

  Sarah took several sips of the cold water and her throat did feel better. “Now what?” she asked as Robin sat down on the edge of her bed.

  “We wait, and you heal. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  Sarah nodded and was soon sound asleep. Hours later, she awoke slowly and looked to see Robin sitting in a chair beside her bed, reading a book. “Raoul?” she asked softly.

  “Hey.” Robin smiled sweetly as she put down the novel. “Feel better?”