Liz flung open the refrigerator door. “A fridge…and I’m starving.”
“Geez, Liz,” I said, laughing. “I thought something was wrong.”
Victor and Charles rushed in the kitchen.
“Are you all right, my dear?” Charles asked.
“Better than ever!” Liz pointed. “Behold, a box that keeps food cold all the time. Gentlemen, this is best invention of all time.” She opened a can of Pepsi and took a long drink. “Liquid heaven.” She handed everyone a can and began digging through the shelves.
Charles tapped on the can, then shook it. “How do you open it?”
“Not like that, silly,” Liz said. “It’ll explode all over the place.”
“Pull the tab back,” I said, “but wait until it settles down.”
Unfortunately, he didn’t heed my warning, and the cola fizzled all over the floor. We all burst out in laughter.
Liz pulled out a candy bar. “Let me introduce you to a friend I’ve missed desperately, Mr. Chocolate.”
I broke off a chunk of the Hershey bar. “Victor, you’ve had plenty of first times—first step, first kiss, first date—but you will always remember your first taste of chocolate.” I watched as he tentatively bit into the candy.
As the chocolate melted in his mouth, his face lit up with surprise.
“Well?” I asked.
“It’s sweet and creamy. I’ve never tasted anything so delightful in all of my life.”
I felt special witnessing Victor try something new for the first time. He was hundreds of years old, but in my world, there was still plenty to show him. The thought made me smile.
“It’s pure heaven,” I said, taking another bite.
Liz began pulling out ingredients to make sandwiches. “You guys are gonna love this! I’ve got ham, turkey, and roast beef.” She handed the bags of meat to Charles. “And we’ve got to have all the fixings.” She handed Victor an onion, a tomato, a green pepper, a jar of mayonnaise, cheese, and a head of lettuce. She smiled as he fumbled with everything. “You got everything, Highness?”
I grabbed some things out of his hands. “Let’s just set this on the table.”
“Now, gentlemen, there’s one key to making the perfect sandwich,” Liz said. “You’ve gotta pop it in the microwave for a few seconds and mmm,” she said.
Victor shot her a confused look. “And what is a microwave?”
“It will melt the Swiss cheese. Trust me, you’re in for a treat!”
“Remember the box I told you about that cooks food?” I asked.
Before he could answer, Liz screamed in delight. “We’ve even got pickles!” She handed me the jar and winked. “I know you’ve been craving these in your delicate condition.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. My sister was such a ball of energy when she was excited. “Gee, sis,” I teased, “you act as if you have been stuck in the Middle Ages for the last decade.”
She smiled, then looked at Charles and Victor. “Wanna see something cool?” She walked over to the stove and turned the dial. A gas flame suddenly appeared. “Behold! I give you fire.”
“You can control the size of the flame?” Victor asked, studying the burner.
Victor and Charles walked over, totally dumbfounded by our common, everyday appliance. It was adorable to see them so wide-eyed. I jumped when Liz turned the blender on. Before I could tell her to take it down a notch, the distinctive sound of tires rolling over gravel caught my attention. “Somebody’s here,” I said, walking into the living room.
My mom rushed to the window and moved the curtains to the side. “There are news trucks out front.”
Parting the curtains slightly, I peeked out. A news crews and a handful of photographers were clustered outside. “What’s going on?”
“We better tell her,” my mom said, “because I’m sure more are going to come.”
My dad nodded. “Honey, I don’t know how to say this…”
“What, Dad?” The serious look on his face made me nervous, and I dreaded to hear whatever he was about to tell me. “Are they here because of me? How do they know I’m even back?”
“Not you, honey,” my mom softly said. “Frank.”
“Why would a news crew be out front stalking you because of Frank?”
“Because we’re the parents of the murder victim.”
My jaw dropped.
My dad handed me a newspaper. “Check out the front page.”
I glanced down at the headlines and about flipped. “Oh my gosh!” Frank was on the front page, standing trial for my murder. My heart lurched. “This is all my fault.” I showed the paper to Victor. “We don’t use scrolls but paper printed with ink.”
He studied the picture. “Sarah, I’m so sorry.”
“I have to fix this.” I looked at my mom. “Why didn’t you tell me about this? You were here for an entire year before Victor brought you through the portal.”
“We planned on telling you, honey, but we’d only been through the portal a few days. You were so happy, and we were so overwhelmed with seeing you and Liz that I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Did you sit through his trial?” I asked.
“Yes, but we always stood up for Frank with the press. I didn’t believe for one minute that he’d ever hurt you.” She let out a long sigh. “I was going to tell you, but then Victor was…well we thought he was dead. I couldn’t bear to give you more bad news when you were hurting so much.”
Victor pushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “What’s done is done. Let’s not live in the past or cast blame. We must now focus on saving Frank’s life. We’ll storm whatever castle he’s held in and free him.”
I had to laugh, but at the same time, it was very brave of him. “Not a castle, honey—a courthouse.”
“Wherever you’re going, I’m coming with you,” Victor said.
“Is it a good idea to give up your cover?” my father wisely asked. “What are you going to tell them anyway?”
“They’ll never believe me,” I said. “I know that, but I can’t leave Frank to rot in jail or worse—the electric chair. I bet they’re wondering why the murder victim’s parents weren’t in attendance at the sentencing.”
“Because Sarah Larker is very much alive,” my dad said.
“They don’t know that,” I said.
“When you first disappeared, we didn’t know what happened to you,” my dad said. “We suspected foul play, but we told the police from the start that we were sure Frank would never harm you. We refused to go to the sentencing because to us, it was nothing but nonsense, and I told them so.”
“I understand that we need to clear Frank, but I just hope they don’t throw you in jail. The city wasted lots of taxpayer dollars to avenge a murder that never even happened.”
Victor peeked out the window. “We can come up with a story.”
“A cover story? Hmm. I like it.” I bit my lip as I pondered what I might tell them, looking for something plausible.
Liz chimed in, “Just tell them Frank gave you an ultimatum and said you had to give up being a paranormal researcher and run off with him, or it was over. After careful consideration, you gave up everything that night and ran off to New York City. A week later, you and Frank split up. He came directly home, and you fell and hit your head.”
I tapped my forehead. “Amnesia? As in, I lost my memory.”
She nodded. “You lived on the streets until your memory came back.”
“You’ll need to change,” my mom said, looking at my queenly apparel. “You can wear something of mine. Go upstairs and put on something nice.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She smiled. “If you take Victor, they are sure to ask questions. He doesn’t even have a birth certificate or Social Security number—nothing to prove his identity. Maybe it’d be best for him to stay here with us. Liz should stay out of sight too. I have no idea how you’d ever explain her.”
I turned to Victor. “She’s right.”
“Frank must not suffer for something he didn’t do. His innocence is our utmost concern,” Victor said. “If you need to go by yourself, go ahead. I will wait here.”
I gripped his hands. “Thanks, babe.”
My dad pointed to the TV. “Look! It’s on.”
A reporter, standing in front of the courthouse, stated, “Frank Pierce was convicted of killing Sarah Larker last fall. Police believe he stalked her while she was on a research expedition. Her body was never found, but police found strong evidence that suggested Sarah had been killed in a jealous rage.”
The camera then focused on Frank, and my stomach dropped when I saw how terrified he was. “I-I didn’t kill Sarah,” Frank stuttered in an emotional outburst. “I love her more than anything. I’d never…I couldn’t possibly hurt her.”
The reporter came back on the screen. “Frank Pierce’s fate is being discussed, and jurors still haven’t come to a conclusion.”
My dad turned off the television. “Sarah, let me drive you.”
“No, Dad. This is something I need to do myself.”
“Go ahead, sis, and be careful,” Liz said. “While you’re gone, I’ll introduce these stinky medieval fellas to our modern-day shower.” She laughed, sniffed the air, and wrinkled her nose. “They are in desperate need of one, but I guess being locked in a dungeon will do that to ya.”
“Thanks, sis.”
Victor was still staring at the television. “How is that possible? How can you see this in a box? You have so many magic boxes here—one that cooks things and one that shows scenes as they are happening. Helena would be jealous.”
I began to explain, but Liz cut in. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll explain television to you, TV for short. Heck, I’ll even pop in a movie in the VCR and make some popcorn. I’ll get these guys up to speed on what I know.”
“Popcorn?” Victor said, recalling when I’d mentioned it to him before.
I smiled. “VCR? Technology has advanced since you left, Liz. Are you sure you can handle it?”
“E-readers, right? I’ll ask Mom all about that.”
“You better ask her about iPods, Google, Smartphones, MP3 players, DVDs, and—”
Liz smiled. “I’ll definitely have her fill me in.”
My dad handed me the keys. “Honey, if you’re gonna go, you’d better get dressed and head out.”
My mom flashed her brown eyes. “Here’s a sandwich and a glass of milk. You’ve been going and going, and you’re supposed to be eating for two now, Sarah.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I grabbed the sandwich and milk and darted up the stairs. Skipping meals, no matter how much stress I was under, would not help my baby one tiny bit. My mom was right, and I needed regular meals and good nutrition. My baby’s health depended on me, and I wanted to give him the best start in life that I possibly could.
Chapter 15
I wore one of my mom’s navy dress suits with heels, and my hair draped down my back in a long ponytail. I took a deep breath to ready myself to burst into the courtroom and change Frank’s fate. As I raced up the steps, I listened intently. My Immortal hearing had its advantages.
“I hereby sentence you to death,” the judge said. “May God have mercy on your soul.”
I heard the bang of a gavel, followed by the shuffle of people rising to leave the courtroom. Some gasped and screamed in reaction to Frank’s sentence. Without any further delay, I swung open the door and casually strolled up the aisle. I felt like I was on one of courtroom dramas on television, rushing in to stop the trial at the very last minute.
The large room was decorated in dark wood. A black robe-clad judge with salt-and-pepper hair sat behind a podium, with a witness stand on either side; a huge American flag hung behind him. To the left was the plaintiff’s table, with three chairs. To the right was the respondent’s table, also furnished with three chairs. Behind each party were ten long benches, already packed with people. The flag made me instantly think of freedom and liberty, and I hoped there would be justice for Frank.
“Your Honor, I object to your sentence!” I said.
He looked at me, baffled and then motioned to the bailiff to escort me out of the courtroom.
I gazed into the eyes of the bailiff. “Please let me say what I have to say.”
He nodded helplessly and the Judge motioned for him to back away from me. I guess he wanted to hear what I had to say after all.
I continued, “There’ll be no death—not today or ever. Do you know why, folks?” I glanced around at the shocked crowd, then met Frank’s gaze, taking notice of the wide grin that had crept across his lips.
“Why?” the judge asked. “And furthermore, young lady, why are you disrupting this hearing?” Anger flashed behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
“Because you cannot accuse a man of murdering someone who isn’t dead. Sarah Larker is alive and well.”
“And how do you know this?” the judge asked in that monotone voice, humoring me.
“Because she’s talking to you right now!”
The people gasped, followed by mutters and shock.
“Your Honor,” the prosecutor said, “we don’t know this girl from Adam. How do we know she is really Sarah Larker?” He shifted his in his chair and loosened his collar. “We’ve established a powerful motive, and all the facts in this murder case point to the defendant. He was in love with a woman who didn’t want to be with him. This infuriated him to the point of stalking her and ultimately killing her in a fit of rage.”
“And what did he do with the body?” I asked.
“He buried it somewhere in the forest. We don’t know for sure. All we can do is speculate, since Frank Pierce won’t give up the location of the deceased.”
“The supposed deceased is standing right in front of you!” I walked up to the prosecutor and reached out my wrist. “Would you like to check for a pulse?”
“Order in the court!” the judge said.
A few more gasps erupted before silence fell over the courtroom.
“Young lady, I will not tolerate outbursts like this. This better be good, or I’ll throw you in jail myself. Now explain yourself and this intrusion.”
I looked up to meet his intent gaze. “I swear I’m Sarah Larker.”
The lines on his forehead deepened as he pondered for a minute. “If you really are Sarah Larker, why have you waited so long to come forward? Did you not know the entire country was looking for you?”
“No,” I said, and it was the truth. We didn’t exactly get Yahoo news or The New York Times or the CBS Morning News in Tastia.
“Are you telling me you haven’t watched television or picked up a newspaper for a year? You would have almost had to be dead to miss these worldwide headlines for all that time.”
“No, Your Honor, I haven’t seen the news,” I said, and again, it was no lie. I’d been living in a medieval world without the luxuries of electricity or TV or the Internet.
The court stenographer tapped away, but the judge seemed to be at a loss for words. People whispered and murmured amongst themselves, and those who had stood to leave had quickly settled back into their seats.
When I shot Frank a reassuring glance, he flashed me his brilliant white smile and mouthed, “Thank you.”
After a long pause, the judge finally said, “We’ll need to confirm your identity. May I see you in my quarters, miss?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, even though I wasn’t technically a miss anymore. I was Mrs. Sarah Fesque, an Immortal queen with powers even I could barely comprehend, and I was married to the most wonderful king in the world. My single days were long behind me, but my maiden name, Sarah Larker, still rang in my head. I hadn’t been that human girl in a long time, the paranormal researcher trying to find the link between supposedly nonexistent creatures and portals, the girl who’d desperately searched for her long-lost sister, the girl who couldn’t find love if her life depended on it.
“We’ll take a quick recess.”
He looked at Frank’s lawyer. “I want you and the prosecution to meet me in my chambers in fifteen minutes.’
I explained the bogus story countless times while they fingerprinted me to check my identity. When it was confirmed, Frank’s cutthroat lawyer demanded that Frank be released at once. After a few hours, Frank was declared a free man. His family and friends shouted in joy, with tears flowing down their cheeks. I wasn’t sure if the police believed my story, but they had no other choice but to release him. They couldn’t convict a person for murder when the victim was alive and breathing; his expensive lawyer made sure of that.
Frank’s brother and parents held up Frank’s hand in victory as they walked out of the courthouse. The crowd cheered, cried, and laughed. It amazed me that he had so many supporters and fans, as I’d never known Frank to have such a following. Flashes of light blinded me as reporters and photographers called my name.
A microphone was shoved into my face by one of the reporters who were crowding into me. “Why didn’t you come forward sooner?”
“Do you feel guilty for pinning your fake murder on Frank?” another asked.
“What happened that night? And where have you been hiding all this time?” another wanted to know.
As far as they knew, I had risen from the dead, and everybody wanted the scoop, but I ignored their interrogation and pushed my way through the crowd.
When Frank caught my eye, he said, “Thank you, Sarah,” and bolted over to hug me.
“When I saw it in the paper, I wasn’t about to let you hang for this,” I said.
“Meet me at Smith Park in one hour,” he whispered in my ear. “Please don’t return through the portal without saying goodbye.”
He had no idea I was there to hide in my world and had no plans of leaving anytime soon—not until my son was grown and safe. I nodded as his family and friends snatched him back up, wailing in victory.
“Are you angry at Sarah Larker?” a reporter asked Frank’s dad.
“No. We harbor no ill feelings toward Sarah,” he said.
“Were you angry when your son was accused of such a heinous act?” the reporter asked.
Eternal Fire - Book 3 of The Ruby Ring Saga Page 17