Until I Saw Your Smile

by J. J. Murray

  “What would they have done?” Matthew asked.

  Angela rolled her eyes. “They would have come back to Williamsburg to rescue me. Either that or they would have flown me down there.”

  And we might never have met. I don’t want to think about that.

  Matthew dialed his parents. “This will be a shorter call.” He turned on the speaker. The call went directly to voice mail. That’s strange. Someone’s usually up by now. “Hey Dad, Mom, Angela and I are engaged. I’ll call you later today with the details. Just wanted you to know before anyone else. Bye.” He closed the phone. “Ready to make some money?”

  “You left them a voice mail to announce your engagement,” Angela said.

  “I’ll call them later,” Matthew said.

  “You better.” Angela opened the refrigerator. “Is it supposed to be hot again today?”

  “Mid-eighties, I think,” Matthew said.

  “We’ll need more strawberries then,” she said. “And I want you to call your parents back.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I will.”

  After opening the shop, Matthew finished his coffee before walking down to HOD Fruit & Vegetable. Along the way, an idea struck him that made him smile.

  Angela’s parents want to know where and when. I know my parents will want the same information.

  I think I know the exact date and place.

  He first called his parents.

  “We got your message,” his father said. “When’s the date?”

  Matthew told him the date and why.

  His father liked the idea.

  His mother complained initially, but she agreed. “Have I told you how hard you’ve been on me, Matthew? You’re pushing me into an early grave.”

  “You’ll outlive us all, Mom,” Matthew said.

  “No thanks to you,” she said.

  He called Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and they were overjoyed, giving Matthew a few more ideas.

  “How are you going to keep this a secret from Angela?” Angela’s mother asked.

  “I have learned a great deal from your daughter about keeping secrets, Mrs. Smith,” Matthew said. “I think I’ll do okay.”

  Matthew bought two boxes of fresh strawberries, and as he walked, his phone buzzed. “This is Matthew McConnell.”

  “McConnell, this is Paddy.”

  What does O’Day want? “What can I do for you, Paddy?” “You know I’m lead on the Warrick case, right?” O’Day said.

  “I’m sure I read it somewhere,” Matthew said. “How’s your case going?”

  “Not good,” O’Day said. “Our eyewitnesses are getting cold feet, and the two that are prepped and ready are going to get hammered by Filardi on the stand because they’re scared shitless of the guy. I can’t get one of them to speak louder than a whisper.”

  I don’t like where this is leading. “What about all the evidence Novak said she had?”

  “We didn’t get any DNA or prints from any crime scene,” O’Day said. “None. Warrick covered his tracks well.”

  And without snowshoes. “There was nothing on the boots Angela wore?”

  “Nothing but dust,” O’Day said. “We found some cigarette butts in the alley behind her place, including Warrick’s brand, but they couldn’t pull any DNA from them.”

  “What about the phone call he made to me?” Matthew asked. “He admitted being at Angela’s during the last blizzard.”

  “And that’s the only indisputable evidence we have right now,” O’Day said. “If he hadn’t called you, we would have had to drop the attempted rape charge for lack of evidence because Miss Smith destroyed all the evidence. Right now, it’s back to his word against hers, and we need her words. We have to have her testimony. Live.”

  Matthew’s heart sank. “I was hoping she wouldn’t have to testify. I was hoping you were going to use the tape of her grand jury testimony.”

  “It’s great testimony, don’t get me wrong,” O’Day said, “but Angela isn’t exactly the most reliable witness because of her condition, and Filardi knows she has PTSD.”

  “How?” Matthew asked.

  “I don’t know how he knows,” O’Day said. “He only threw it in my face the other day.”

  Why is this happening now? “We both know Angela’s memory is unreliable. She’s not unreliable.”

  “It will be the same difference to Filardi, McConnell,” O’Day said.

  “So why put her on the stand at all?” Matthew asked. “Run the tape and hope for the best.”

  “Look, McConnell, I don’t want to call her as a material witness,” O’Day said, “but if I have to, I will.”

  From eyewitness to material witness. They could arrest and detain Angela until the trial. Why is this shit happening? I finally have Angela back!

  No, I can’t say I have her “back.” She’s not all the way back yet.

  “We’re up against it, McConnell,” O’Day said. “We believe Warrick attacked five women, and we charged him with five counts of attempted rape, but the man was smart. He didn’t leave a trace behind.”

  “What about the things he said?” Matthew asked. “Didn’t he repeat the same words to each victim?”

  “And how would you as his defense attorney attack those repeated words?” O’Day asked.

  Matthew nodded. “I’d say the witnesses had been coached by the district attorney, but as a prosecutor, I’d damn sure get those words into evidence.”

  “We will, we will,” O’Day said. “We aren’t as dumb as you think we are, but Filardi is trouble. You know that. He’s in the news today chirping and creating a media circus saying his usual bullshit. ‘My client is innocent, this is a vendetta, the five women accusing my client have been misled and brainwashed by the police, they have no physical evidence whatsoever.’ It makes me sick.”

  “So what exactly do you need?” Matthew asked.

  “We need Angela,” O’Day said, “and since you’re her lawyer, we expect you to advise her to do the right thing.”

  Matthew stopped in the shade a block from Angela’s, setting the strawberry boxes beside him. “Or what?”

  “McConnell, you know we’d rather have her as a cooperative eyewitness,” O’Day said, “but if we have to issue a warrant to get her to appear, we will. Talk to her, okay? The trial starts next week. I’ll be in touch.”

  Matthew closed his phone. Now what? Why does this have to happen today? Life is finally coming together for Angela and me. What do I do now?

  Call the doctor.

  Call Dr. Penn. He’ll know what to do.

  He dialed Dr. Penn. “Sorry to bother you, Dr. Penn, but I may need your help.” He explained what O’Day wanted Angela to do.

  “Is she stronger now than she was three months ago?” Dr. Penn asked.

  “I think so,” Matthew said. “But she’s been having nightmares more often as the trial approaches. I don’t think she’s slept more than a few hours a night for the last month.”

  “As might anyone who has been through what she’s been through,” Dr. Penn said. “But I think I’ve told you this before. Angela is much tougher than she appears to be.”

  “I know that,” Matthew said.

  “And this will give her the opportunity to face her attacker,” Dr. Penn said. “Many people never get this chance. This might be the best possible therapy for her.”

  “I thought love was the best therapy, Doc,” Matthew said.

  “It still is,” Dr. Penn said. “Love will always be the best therapy. But in Angela’s case, confrontation may be her ultimate cure.”

  He’s right. He has always been right. “By the way, we’re engaged.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Dr. Penn said. “But why don’t you sound happier?”

  “We’re engaged as of yesterday, and now this.”

  “Why should this diminish your happiness?” Dr. Penn asked. “Facing Warrick will only help Angela, I assure you. When’s the happy event?”

  I thought I had some id
ea an hour ago. “We haven’t set a date.”

  “Did she accept your proposal without any reservations?” Dr. Penn asked.

  “Yes,” Matthew said.

  “No hesitation whatsoever,” Dr. Penn said.

  “None,” Matthew said. “Is that significant?”

  Dr. Penn laughed. “Go tell Angela she’s going to testify against Warrick, and don’t wait another minute.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Matthew said. “She told her parents what happened to her only a few hours ago, we got engaged only yesterday, and she’s still not sleeping well.”

  “Ask her right now,” Dr. Penn said. “I’m not a betting man, but I bet she says she can’t wait to testify.”

  “Is that your considered opinion as a man or a psychiatrist?” Matthew asked.

  “It’s my considered opinion as me this time,” Dr. Penn said. “I have seen remarkable changes in Angela. She is by far the toughest person I’ve ever met, and remember, I served in Vietnam with the toughest of men. I believe Angela has been waiting four long years to confront this man, and here’s the golden opportunity. Go ask her.”

  “Just go up to her and say, ‘You’re going to testify in open court against the man who attacked and ruined your life four years ago,’ ” Matthew said.

  “If that’s the way you want to say it, sure,” Dr. Penn said. “She’s going to surprise you, Matthew, and you won’t need to call me back, probably ever. I’ll read her testimony in the newspaper.”

  “I wish I had your confidence,” Matthew said.

  “Oh, but you do,” Dr. Penn said. “You had the confidence to ask Angela to marry you, knowing that her past may never be completely behind her. That takes toughness and resolve. You’re almost the second-toughest person I’ve ever met.”

  “Who was the second-toughest?” Matthew asked.

  “My wife,” Dr. Penn said. “Go ask Angela right now.”

  Matthew exhaled. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Good-bye, Matthew,” Dr. Penn said. “Give my best to Angela, and be sure to send me a wedding invitation.”

  “I will.”

  Matthew closed his phone. Just tell her. Is it going to be that easy?

  He backed into the shop and took the boxes of strawberries directly to the prep table in the kitchen, only nodding at Angela as she put a tray of cookies into the oven.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  Here we go. “Paddy O’Day is lead prosecutor on the Warrick case, and he wants you to testify.”

  “When?” Angela asked.

  Matthew blinked. She didn’t ask why or curse or cry or fall to pieces. “If I were him, I’d save you for the end of the trial since your testimony should be most damaging to Warrick.”

  Angela nodded. “Okay. Why’d you get two boxes?”

  I am in awe of this woman. Can’t she see I’m trying not to cry? “It’s going to be really hot today, and the strawberry shortcake was such a hit yesterday, I thought why not two?”

  “Good idea.” Angela squinted. “You okay?”

  I’m better than okay. “Yeah.”

  “Allergies again?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Allergies.”

  And my love for the toughest woman who ever lived on planet Earth.

  Chapter 38

  For the next six days, Matthew prepped Angela to testify long into the night, peppering her with questions he thought Filardi might ask her.

  For the first four days and nights, Angela did well, answering each question directly and calmly. “He attacked me from behind . . . He wore a black knit ski mask . . . I didn’t report the incident because he didn’t rape me.”

  The last two days, Angela wasn’t cooperating, and she couldn’t keep her feet still.

  “When did you begin getting psychological counseling from Dr. Kenneth Penn?” Matthew asked, trying to recreate Filardi’s nasal tone.

  “Two years after the attack,” Angela said.

  “Two years,” Matthew said. “So for two years, you didn’t think anything was wrong with you, did you, Miss Smith?”

  “I knew something was wrong,” Angela said.

  “But you didn’t seek help for two long years,” Matthew said. “Wasn’t your encounter with my client just another date gone bad for you, not that you’ve had many dates in your life, am I right, Miss Smith? What are you, thirty-five and unmarried?”

  “Fuck you,” Angela said.

  “Angela, you can’t say that in court,” Matthew said.

  “Why not?” Angela asked. “That man knows nothing about me or my relationships. How can he say that about me?”

  “He’ll probably say far worse to set you off,” Matthew said. “It’s his job to make you look completely unstable and unreliable as a witness. He’s going to pick at you relentlessly, hoping you’ll lose control. Remember: you’re the victim here. You have to stay in control.”

  “Why? Why can’t I show some anger? A man stole four years of my life from me. I’m angry. The jury should feel my anger.”

  “But if you curse Filardi,” Matthew said, “the judge can hold you in contempt.”

  “Let him,” Angela said. “I don’t give a shit.”

  “You have to care, Angela,” Matthew said. “Your testimony will be crucial in putting this guy away for life.”

  “I can’t hold back, Matthew,” Angela said. “I will not play the sniveling victim. I am a survivor. I want the jury to see the real me, the powerful woman who survived, and if I go off, I go off. I want them to know how truly pissed off I am. I want them to see me fight.”

  She’s right. Her testimony isn’t the time to be quiet. She has to roar. She needs to create some fireworks. Juries expect to see cowering, frightened witnesses in sexual assault cases. What if the jury sees a powerful woman, a fighter who refuses to yield any point the defense has?

  “I’m not a victim anymore, Matthew,” Angela said.

  “You’re right,” Matthew said. “You’re the predator now, and Warrick is the prey.”

  Angela blinked. “You agree with me?”

  “Yes, and I don’t know why I didn’t realize this before,” Matthew said. “Angela, forget what I’ve said to you for the past week. Answer any question you get the way you feel it at the moment. If Filardi pisses you off, I want you to spit fire. If he attacks you, fire back. It would be great if you could set Warrick off, too, but I don’t want you to let your guard down for a second.”

  Angela smiled. “I don’t intend to. I also intend to ignore Warrick for as long as I can. I won’t even dignify his presence in the courtroom.”

  “But the jury might see that and think you’re afraid of him,” Matthew said.

  “Oh, I’ll look at him,” Angela said, “but only when the time is right. And I won’t be smiling at his sorry ass. Until then, I don’t want the jury to think I give a shit about him.”

  This could work. “I have to call O’Day.”

  “Why?” Angela asked. “This is my case now, not his.”

  “You’re right,” Matthew said. “He needs to know that it isn’t his case anymore, right?” He called O’Day. “Paddy, I need you to do something for us.”

  “What?” O’Day asked.

  “I don’t want you to ask Angela any questions about what she did with her clothes or shoes or her cleanup after the attack,” Matthew said.

  Angela blinked rapidly.

  “It’s okay,” Matthew mouthed. “I got this.”

  “What?” O’Day yelled. “That’s evidence vital to our case, McConnell.”

  “And I don’t want you to even mention PTSD or Dr. Penn,” Matthew said.

  “We already decided to bring that up first, didn’t we?” O’Day asked. “To beat Filardi to the punch.”

  “Change of plan,” Matthew said. “Trust me, Paddy. Let Filardi bring all that into evidence. Let him throw his jabs. Angela’s going to drop him with some wicked hooks.”

  “But he’ll be able to
prove Angela is hiding something!” O’Day shouted. “He’ll be able to prove she’s unreliable!”

  Matthew smiled. “Trust me. If Filardi even mentions any of it, he’ll be sorry. We have to let Filardi open Pandora’s Box, and once he does, all hell will break loose.”

  “I don’t know, McConnell,” O’Day said. “That’s taking a huge risk.”

  “Only a slight risk,” Matthew said. “And we also don’t want you to make any objections to any question Filardi asks or any snide comments he makes.”

  “What, I’m just supposed to sit on my thumbs?” O’Day asked.

  “Yes,” Matthew said. “Do as much nothing as you can once you’ve led Angela through her testimony. Make no objections. We’ve got this.” He smiled at Angela. “Angela’s got this. She will be in total control. She will win you your case. You’ve got to trust us on this.”

  “Oh man, McConnell,” O’Day said. “If this backfires . . .”

  “It won’t,” Matthew said. “I guarantee it. Your star witness is going to blaze brightly in that courtroom tomorrow, and all you have to do is sit back and enjoy the show.”

  Smith’s Sweet Treats and Coffee was closed for the first time in forty years. Angela wore a white blouse and stylish black skirt as O’Day gently led her through her night from hell. Angela delivered her testimony flawlessly in front of a packed courtroom in the Kings County Supreme Court building on Jay Street in downtown Brooklyn on a hot and humid June morning. Matthew knew Angela’s feet were still most likely dancing in place behind the wooden wall of the witness stand, but that was all right.

  She’s just warming up for the fight.

  Matthew stared at the back of Warrick’s head. Warrick looked so smug when he came in, dressed in a suit Filardi probably bought for him. It looks better than the one I’m wearing, but I’ll bet it’s the only suit Warrick has ever worn. If all goes as it should, that will be the last nice suit Warrick ever wears.

  “No further questions at this time,” O’Day said.

  “Your witness, Mr. Filardi,” Judge Pedroia said.

  Filardi, wearing a $25,000 Ermenegildo Zegna suit and $1,500 New & Lingman Russian calf shoes, didn’t leave his seat. “Thank you, your honor.” He stared at Angela for a full ten seconds.