“Coming back from the dead takes some getting used to. There are my missing years and my physical problems.”
Casey paused. She studied her visitor. The close scrutiny made Ashley uncomfortable.
“There’s also you.” Casey smiled. “For instance, what shall we call each other? I don’t know if ‘mother’ is appropriate.”
Ashley looked down. “I don’t want to offend you, but it would be hard for me to think of anyone but Terri as my mom.”
“I can understand that, and it doesn’t offend me in the least. You used to call me Dean, but I’m not anymore, and that’s way too formal for our relationship. So why don’t you call me Casey and I’ll call you Ashley. How does that sound?”
“Okay.”
“How did you find out about your father and me?”
“Your father told Jerry Philips, my attorney, about the adoption. He told me.”
“And why did Henry reveal our relationship after so many years?”
Ashley decided not to tell Casey that Henry needed her to prevent Miles from taking his sister off life support, because she wasn’t certain how much Casey knew.
“I guess he wanted me to know that I still had a family.”
“Do you hate me for abandoning you?” Casey asked.
The directness of Casey’s question caught Ashley off guard. Then it dawned on Ashley that Casey Van Meter was once again the dean. Casey was back in charge.
Ashley decided that she would be direct, too. “I did at first.”
“How do you feel now?”
“Confused, but I don’t hate you anymore. I tried to look at it from your point of view, to imagine how I would have felt if I was pregnant by a man I…I didn’t love.”
Ashley looked down.
“You’re right, Ashley. I didn’t love your father. Marriage would have been wrong for both of us. It would never have lasted. And I was too young to be a mother. When I gave you up for adoption it had nothing to do with you. It wasn’t your fault. I never even saw you. They took you away the moment I delivered. I was sedated. I don’t even have a clear memory of the birth. But it turned out for the best, didn’t it? Norman was a good father?”
“The best.”
“And you loved Terri?”
“Very much.”
Ashley paused and gathered the courage to ask the next question. “Did you ever regret giving me up?”
“There have been moments when I wondered what became of you. I’m glad you had loving parents. I’m happy that you’re a strong, self-confident woman, even if I can’t take any credit for what you’ve become.”
“Did you ever try to find me?”
“No, never.”
“Why?”
“May I be brutally honest?”
“Please,” Ashley said, steeling herself.
“You were never real to me. You were like a dream. I never held you, I never saw you. How could I love you or want you? And what good would it have done if I showed up out of the blue and destroyed your peace of mind? Look at the turmoil you’ve been through since you learned I was your mother.”
Ashley swallowed, fighting the tightness in her throat and the fear that she would cry. She kept her next question overly formal to distance herself from the emotions that were raging inside her.
“What about now? Do you want to get to know me or would you prefer that we not contact each other?”
Casey cocked an eyebrow and flashed a wry smile. “What a silly question. Of course I want to get to know you. I liked you from the first day we met. Do you remember when I showed you the campus? I knew that you were a good person, immediately. I admired the way you dealt with the horror of your situation, your steel, your poise. Had we been the same age I would have wanted you as a friend. There’s still the age difference, but that means less and less as we get older. So I propose that we start off as friends. We can see each other from time to time and try not to force anything. Let’s see how it goes. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Okay.”
“Good. Now, you know what I’ve been doing for the past five years. I think it’s only fair that you bring me up to date on how you spent your time while I’ve been asleep.”
Jerry had to work late, so Ashley agreed to meet him at Typhoon, a Thai restaurant on Broadway a few blocks from his office. The hostess showed Ashley to a table in the crowded restaurant where Jerry was waiting.
“How did the meeting with Casey go?” Jerry asked as soon as she was seated.
“Better than I thought it would.”
“You shouldn’t be surprised. You liked Casey when you were at the Academy, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I only saw her a few times. Except for when she took Mom and me around, I never did more than say hi when we passed on campus. It was real superficial. And when I was at the Academy I didn’t know that she abandoned me and I hadn’t heard all of these bad things about her.”
“Bad like what?”
“You told me how wild she was when she met Dad. Miles said pretty much the same thing. She’s been in rehab. She was promiscuous. If you can believe Randy Coleman, she could also be violent and sadistic.”
Ashley related what Coleman had said about Casey chaining him to their bed and burning him with cigarettes. Jerry was appalled.
“But being in the coma and coming out of it, maybe that changed her,” Ashley said. “This afternoon we really clicked. I want to get to know her better.”
Jerry reached out and took Ashley’s hands. “This is good, Ashley. This can really help you. With Maxfield in prison and finding out that you get along with Casey, you can have a new start. You can get your life back.”
“You left something out.”
“What?”
Ashley squeezed Jerry’s hands. “You, Jerry. If anyone has saved me, it’s you.”
Book Tour
The Present
Did Ashley and your sister become friends?” a young woman in the back row asked Miles Van Meter.
“Yes, Ashley started visiting Glen Oaks regularly. When Casey was able to walk, Ashley would keep her company on the trails at the Academy. They’re still good friends.”
A hand went up in the second row. Miles smiled at a middle-aged woman in a business suit.
“Sleeping Beauty reads like a murder mystery,” she said. “Have you ever tried your hand at fiction?”
“I took a creative writing course in college. I did rather well in it. And, of course, there are all those lawyers who are writing legal thrillers. When that trend started I thought about trying my hand at one, but I practice business law and my cases were too dull for a good plot.”
“Are you going to write another true crime book?”
“No. Writing about my sister’s case was enough for me.”
“What about a novel?”
Miles smiled shyly. “Well, I do have an idea for a thriller. I’m working up a proposal. If my agent thinks it’s any good I’ll probably take a stab at it.”
A heavyset man in the front row raised his hand and Miles acknowledged him.
“Whose idea was it to write a new edition of Sleeping Beauty?”
“Actually, my editor got the idea after Maxfield’s arrest. He asked me if I had any interest in writing additional chapters that would include the trial for a new edition of the book. I agreed. I thought that the book needed these final chapters to bring the events in it to an end. It also gave me closure.”
A woman who was standing between the bookcases in the back of the room raised her hand. Miles pointed at her.
“Has your sister read Sleeping Beauty and, if she has, what does she think of it?”
“Casey has read it. I think it was tough for her, but she’s one tough lady.”
The audience applauded.
“To answer the second part of your question, Casey said she liked it, but I don’t think she’d be honest with me if she hated it. After all, we love each other. That, by the way, is one reason to never ask your mother
to critique your work.”
Miles waited for the laughter to die down before calling on a scholarly-looking gentleman with gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses who was wearing a tweed sports coat with leather patches on the sleeves.
“Was it hard for you to sit through Joshua Maxfield’s trial?”
“Yes and no. I didn’t like to hear about the terrible things he’d done, but I felt great relief that he was finally facing justice. I think it was much harder for Ashley.”
Part Three.State V. Joshua Maxfield
One Year Earlier
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The bailiff rapped his gavel to start the fourth day of Joshua Maxfield’s trial. Delilah Wallace smiled in anticipation of the day’s events. She was delighted with the jury that had been empaneled during the first two days. They were a group of tough, no-nonsense people. She was certain that they would see through any defense tricks and have no qualms about finding death to be the appropriate sentence after they convicted the defendant of aggravated murder.
Delilah was also pleased with the way opening statements had gone. Hers had been detailed and impassioned. She had laid out the evidence the jury would hear in chronologic order and had named the witnesses who would establish each piece of evidence. By the time she was through with her presentation she noticed more than one juror nodding unconsciously when she made a point. They also smiled when she brought a little levity to the proceedings. It was easy for Delilah to make friends, and she felt that she had twelve new ones by the time she sat down.
In Delilah’s opinion, Eric Swoboda’s opening statement had been boring and uninformative. He had talked about the concept of reasonable doubt but he had not mentioned a single reason why the jury was going to have one when the trial was over. He had been vague about how the defense would counter the state’s arguments. He had talked theory but had presented no facts. Delilah knew why. The defense had no arguments to counter hers. It had no evidence that would create any kind of doubt, much less a reasonable doubt. Joshua Maxfield was guilty, guilty, guilty, and Delilah was satisfied that she had the means to bring him to justice.
The Honorable Andrew Shimazu had been assigned to hear Joshua Maxfield’s case. Shimazu was a short, chubby, congenial Japanese-American with a full head of straight, black hair. After graduating from the University of Hawaii with an engineering degree, Shimazu had attended the Northwestern School of Law of Lewis and Clark College in Portland and stayed on. After he spent several years with a large firm and two terms in the state legislature, the governor had appointed him to the Multnomah County Circuit Court. This was his sixth year on the bench. His intelligence and judicial temperament had made him one of the most popular judges in the courthouse.
“Call your first witness, Miss Wallace,” Judge Shimazu ordered.
Delilah had decided to begin her case with her most appealing and deadliest witness. The prosecutor wanted the jury to be convinced of Maxfield’s guilt from the get-go. Once they had formed their opinion, it would be very difficult for Eric Swoboda to change it.
“The State calls Ashley Spencer,” Delilah said.
As Ashley walked down the aisle to the witness box she remembered how terrified she had been when she testified at Joshua Maxfield’s preliminary hearing. Today, she was focused and angry. When she passed the defense table, Ashley glared at Maxfield. She noticed with great satisfaction that he could not meet her steady gaze. Ashley looked away and walked to the front of the witness box where she stood with her head held high as the bailiff administered the oath.
Ashley took her seat and waited for Delilah Wallace to begin her direct examination. Jerry was seated behind the prosecutor in the first row of the spectator section. He flashed her a smile of encouragement when their eyes met. Ashley knew better than to smile back. Delilah had instructed her to be serious from the moment she took the stand to the moment she finished testifying.
Seated next to Jerry was Miles Van Meter. Delilah had not included him on her witness list. He was in court to lend moral support to his sister when she testified and because he was writing an updated edition of his book.
Delilah started her direct examination gently, by walking her witness through her relationship with her parents and her high school soccer career. In her opening statement, Delilah had outlined the testimony that she expected Ashley to give, and the jurors listened sympathetically to what Ashley had to say.
After laying her groundwork, Delilah led Ashley to the night that Tanya Jones and her father were murdered. Ashley told the jury how she and Tanya had been attacked and bound, and how she had watched helplessly as the man who invaded her home dragged Tanya into the guest room. Ashley’s poise broke momentarily when she recounted Tanya’s rape and murder, and she had to pause and drink some water before she could go on.
“Do you want to continue, Miss Spencer?” Judge Shimazu asked. “We can take a recess.”
Ashley took a deep breath and looked across at Joshua Maxfield. Once again, Maxfield refused to meet her eyes. That gave her strength.
“I’d like to go on, Your Honor. I’m okay.”
“Very well. Miss Wallace.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. Now, Ashley, you said that you heard Tanya Jones’s muffled screams. What was the first sound you heard from the man who attacked Tanya after he took her into the guest room?”
“I…I heard a gasp.”
“What did you believe that signified?”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Eric Swoboda said. “Speculation.”
“Your Honor, there will be testimony that Miss Jones was a virgin and that there was evidence of rape. Miss Spencer’s observation will be amply corroborated by this other evidence.”
“Mr. Swoboda, I’m going to let Miss Spencer testify.”
“Ashley?” Delilah said.
“It sounded like he was…like it was sex.” Ashley reddened. “That he’d had an orgasm.”
“What did you hear after that?”
“Tanya was whimpering. Then I heard a… It was like an animal. It didn’t sound human. Then there were these grunts and Tanya stopped screaming.”
“Did the grunts stop when Tanya stopped screaming?”
“No. They went on and on. Then the door to the guest room slammed open.”
“What did you think was going to happen next?”
“I…I thought he was going to rape me and kill me, like Tanya. The same thing.”
“What happened instead?”
“He stopped in the doorway and looked at me. That seemed to go on forever. But he didn’t come in. He went downstairs.”
“Did you hear anything downstairs?”
“I heard the refrigerator door open.”
“We’ll get back to what happened in the kitchen in a bit, but I want you to tell the jury how you escaped.”
Ashley sat up straight and turned to the jurors. In that moment, she felt as she had in the second grade when she’d played soccer with her father’s spirit inside her. Norman was there once again and he made her strong. He filled her with power and lifted her up.
“My father saved my life,” she told the jurors. “My father sacrificed his life for mine. I would not be alive today if it was not for my father, Norman Spencer.”
Delilah had Ashley detail her escape from her home and her subsequent decision to attend the Oregon Academy. Ashley told the jury about her contacts with Joshua Maxfield and her mother’s involvement with his writing seminar. Then Ashley testified about the incident at the boathouse.
“Ashley,” Delilah asked, “you were real serious about your soccer, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“In addition to your team workouts, did you have your own conditioning program?”
“Well, I did extra workouts.”
“Did you like to run in the woods on the Academy grounds in the evening to build up your wind and your legs?”
“Yes.”
“Did you take a run on the evening that Terri Spencer was mur
dered?”
Ashley paled. She looked down and said, “Yes,” so softly that the court reporter had to ask her to repeat her answer.
“During your run, did you see anyone?”
“Yes.”
“Who did you see?”
Ashley looked across the room and pointed at Joshua Maxfield.
“I saw him, the defendant.”
“What was he doing?”
“He was walking by the river.”
“Was there anything unusual about the way he was walking?”
“No. I really didn’t think anything of it because he lived near the boathouse.”
“Was he walking toward or away from the boathouse?”
“Toward it.”
“Did anything unusual happen shortly after you saw the defendant?”
“Yes, I heard a woman scream. Then I heard another scream.”
“How close together were the screams?”
“Pretty close. I can’t say exactly.”
“Where did the screams come from?”
“The direction of the boathouse.”
“What did you do after you heard the screams?”
“I was scared. I froze after the first one. Then I thought someone might be hurt so I cut through the woods and ended up on the side of the boathouse.”
“Did you see anyone else on your way to the boathouse?”
“No.”
“What happened next?”
“I heard a woman say something.”
“What did she say?”
“I don’t know. I just heard the sound. It was muffled by the walls.”
“How do you know it was a woman?”
“It was high-pitched.”
“What did you do after you heard the sound?”
“I looked in the window of the boathouse.”
“What did you see?”
Ashley pointed at Maxfield. “I saw him and there were two women lying on the floor. And he was holding a knife. There was blood on it.” Ashley was finding it hard to breathe, but she forced herself to finish her testimony. “He saw me and he tried to kill me. He killed my mother and he ran after me and tried to kill me.”
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