by Riley Moreno
“Nice to see you,” she said. Vivian liked to start on familiar terms. It went easier for her afterwards if she was already friends with the jury. Morales shifted forward in her seat. She ignored Leo’s smile and waited.
“Look, I’ll be brief.”
Vivian’s promise of a recess followed by a bite to eat had to bring them nearer to her team. Morales wanted to wring his neck and remind him that it was better to keep it short and simple. But now that chance was gone as Vivian Porter flexed her muscles.
“Someone is missing.”
Vivian clucked her tongue and twisted her head.
“Just missing mind you. The state has no body to hang their tall tale on.”
She was right, and the truth caused Morales to tremble. Not because she knew it was a lie. Morales believed Ethan Graff’s version of events. But without Kim’s remains…
“And we will argue that while my some of my client’s actions are… questionable….”
Morales thought that she heard the sound of Vivian Porter’s heart turning her in her chest.
Vivian, you don’t want to do this. You can’t.
The defense attorney straightened up the length of her neck and smiled at the jurors in the palm of her hand.
“There’s no blood under their nails, ladies and gentleman. And no body. I ask you, I implore you to not lose sight of that.”
She tenderly slapped the jury box like a friend bidding a loved one a fond farewell.
As she returned to the defense table, Morales was seized by the thought that his was an errand in vain. Julie would never hold up under the woman’s cross, and as the court came to recess, she took Leo’s arm.
“Detective?” he was always careful to address her like the peer that she knew she was when they were in others’ earshot.
Morales threw his hang-ups to the wind and gripped his arm.
“Don’t make her do this, Leo.”
He started to pull away like it was nothing more than a casual exchange of info, but Morales took hold again and she dared to shift closer to his ear.
“Vivian will crush her.”
Leo’s eyes shifted to his opponent conferring with her unworthy prizes. They shook her hands and smiled at their wives. Morales briefly caught the eye of Carter McCord narrowing on hers. He seemed so sure, so proud. She wanted to pull every last tooth from his head and watch him bleed. But some part of her still believed in traditional law and order.
“Connie…”
Leo spun her out if the courtroom. His hold was firm yet kind as he pressed her to a hidden wall.
“I need you to trust me.”
“But, Leo---”
He stole a quick kiss and held her close. Just the recent memory of his mouth granted the courage to rest her head to his chest. He swore that he would be as good as his word. She wanted to believe in him. She wanted to think that he could do anything that he promised.
“Can you, Leo?” she whispered as Vivian swished past with her clients at her side and a smirk for Leo. Morales tensed and clutched his arms.
“Can you save her?”
Leo didn’t nod. He did not shake his head either. And Morales was left wondering just what she had signed Julie Edwards up for.
11
She should be following the proceedings. She should flip to one of the hundred news channels available or search for their names online. But she just could not. It was easier to ignore or at least imagine that Leo Barber was landing one lethal blow after another, causing the defendants to sink deeper and deeper in their seats until they were practically hiding under the defense table. Maybe Leo’s case would ultimately prove so strong, that he would call her into his office, sit her down with his face beaming, and say that things were going so well that there was no need to put her through her own trial by testimony. Better to think that than to listen to a series of talking heads pontificate about all the ways in which there was a chance that the monsters could get off because of the dreaded reasonable doubt. Kim used to say that it existed for a reason, to keep those implicated incorrectly from a life behind bars. That was before. But now, Julie thought that it was a tool that criminals used to confuse the issue and get off without consequences.
So much for justice.
If possible, Julie’s world, though safe, became even smaller as she the dreaded day crept closer. She woke and watched Ethan go. She knew her tension was obvious when every morning, without fail, he asked her if she needed him to stay. Each day she was tempted. Julie wanted nothing but to know that he was nearby. But he had to work. He would need the precious time off when and if she did have to take the stand. Julie would never be able to step one foot into the courtroom without him by her side.
“No, I’m fine. I’ll see you later.”
He always waited for her to change her mind, but when she forced a smile and assured him that she was fine, Ethan was off. Left alone, Julie showered and emerged from the steam wrapped in a towel. Clearing the mirror with the back of her hand, her scars seemed more pronounced than ever. Turning, looking over her shoulders, she wondered if she should wear something sleeveless, backless, if she had to face them again. It might be interpreted as manipulative, but Julie did not care. She wanted the jury, the press, everyone on her side. What better way to accomplish that than to show the world what had happened to her? But these scars were not from Carter McCord or Geoffrey Troxel, Pete and Matt. They were the ones that had beaten her, whipped her, sliced her face. It would be nothing for their defender to call her out for misplaced anger, and she did not need to give the demons’ team any leverage. So it would be a high-necked blouse under a blazer. No doubt she would be shivering the entire time. But her face…
Julie touched the scar that was hardest to hide. That she could display. Maybe a little bit of concealer, but not too much. They would see something of her captivity in the flesh.
When the mirror became too much, Julie dressed and hurried to Danielle’s shop with her eyes on the pavement the entire way.
They don’t know who I am. I’m no one to them. Just keep walking.
Julie still thought that she sensed heads turning, voices whispering, and fingers pointing as she slipped down the sidewalk. When she finally reached the flower shop, she stayed there all day and made no stops on her way home. There she waited for Ethan, and when he reappeared, she tried to talk of nothing even as everything nagged at her brain. Ethan always cleaned his plate, and they washed and dried side by side. He asked her if she wanted to go back to the roof, but now even that was spoiled. It was the final place that she thought she could ever know joy. He had held her in the snow, and she had told Ethan that she loved him.
Would even that matter when she finally had to speak the truth?
Quickening her pace, she practically ran until the bell clanged above Danielle’s door.
“Hey, sweetie,” Danielle said as she looked up with a smile. It fell away as Julie struggled to catch her breath.
“Julie? Hey.”
Coming out from behind the counter, Danielle took her by the arms. And Julie flinched. She was not afraid of Danielle. Even the idea of that seemed impossible. But as soon as she made the move, Danielle backed away.
“Well we’ve got another March wedding,” Danielle, started, trying to sound casual. Julie fought to calm her breathing and focus on Danielle’s words.
“I don’t know why people pick the winter,” she said as she arranged baby’s breath in bouquets of yellow roses. “I mean, all that planning, like sometimes for years. And then taking the chance that there won’t be a major blizzard? I think that’s like really short-sighted.”
With a soft nod of her head, Julie tried to engage in the conversation.
“I… I know. But I mean… it can always rain.”
“I know, right? Freezing rain is even worse!”
As she removed her coat, Julie smiled weakly.
“No. I’m saying that any day can have rain. So I guess… I guess there’s always a chance o
f something going wrong.”
Like on what seemed like a warm day at the start of summer that turned into a night colder than this winter morning.
Danielle made a small sound as she swallowed her coffee and nodded her head.
“Guess that’s right. Nothing’s for sure.”
Nothing was.
Danielle took another sip and casually offered Julie a cup. Julie just shook her head.
“Yeah I know bad habit. Did I ever tell you about my Aunt Carol?”
Even if she had, Julie couldn’t remember the story.
“I’m not sure. I---”
“She practically brushed her teeth with the stuff. She literally could not keep still, always rearranging her knick knacks and dusting the same space over and over again.”
Julie started to play with a new bouquet of roses as she tried to focus on the latest in the line of Danielle’s many stories. She once said that Julie was “the best listener I’ve ever employed!” But Julie listened because she did not want to talk.
“And that woman’s eyes never stopped moving. But you know, she saw a hell of lot that way. Like the time my cousin Tommy thought no one saw him sneaking a smoke in my Grandma Mary’s garage. Well Carol saw it.”
Julie made her mind turn to this poor Tommy, whoever he was. Kim had smoked. Julie remembered liking the smell, then.
“She was taking out the trash for live the eightieth time. Tommy caught hell that night! Of course he was always in trouble. I think he was dyslexic or schizophrenic. Some kind of ‘-ic.’ Whatever, he was definitely a jerk. He stole fifty bucks from my purse once. He could have just asked me. I would have totally said no. But he still could have---”
The door opened again, and Julie’s entire body trembled at the sound. As she tried to turn away from the noise, several vases crashed to the floor. She leapt back to escape the shards of glass, but the water covered the tips of her boots. She met Danielle’s eyes. For a split second, she looked furious. Julie’s lip quivered at the sight, and she tried to clean up the mess she had made with shaking hands.
“Um…” the customer started, a woman tan despite the winter’s sun with perfect nails. She reminded Julie of her mother.
“Yes? How can I help you?”
Danielle practically stepped over Julie’s fumbling hands and made like an obedient dog at the woman’s request for mums. Like lightning, Danielle started to fill the order. Julie kept trying to clear the glass away. She reached for a small trash can and almost had all of it off the floor. A piece sliced into her hand.
“Oh!”
Julie gasped as she watched the blood as it started to spill to her knees. Her jeans turned a dark brown color, and as she lifted her eyes to her hand, she remembered all the other times that blood was drawn from her body. She heard Pete’s voice, his laughter, as he whipped her back when she failed to “play nice.”
But blood, Jules? You’ve been bad.
After her first encounter with Carter McCord, he strung her up. Her arms felt as if they would rip out of her sockets as he stretched them to an unbearable length. She tried to balance on the tips of her toes as he moved around her like a lion stalking wounded prey.
“Do you get off on it, Jules?”
She couldn’t stand when he called her that.
Julie looked up at her bound wrists and worked like mad to free them from the bonds that were too tight.
“I thought you got it. Give ‘em a run for their money. Sure. But you gotta stop clawing at the clients.”
It was barely a scratch across Carter McCord’s face, but she had to do something. She had to try to push him away.
And she paid the price.
Pete stamped out his cigarette against her neck. Julie’s mind exploded in pain as she felt the single point of singed flesh coursing through her entire body. Trying to move away from the feeling was impossible, even without the ropes cutting into her wrists. She howled and shuddered until she settled into a state of dull aches. Her arms stayed stretched in agony. It seemed a better place to linger.
Until he cracked the whip.
“Ahhhh! No! Stop!”
Pete ignored her and flicked the lash again and again and again against her bare back. Each crash of the whip sent her into new worlds of pain. She forgot the burn, stopped trying to free her wrists. He could keep her like this forever if he would just stop.
“So now I gotta school you, Jules.”
He said it so casually, like he was going to show her how to drive a stick shift. But Pete drove on like a maniac. Julie’s body still registered the flicks of ash singing her skin. But that was nothing as the whip started to peel the flesh from her back.
“Please! Please!”
Both the whip and her captor ignored her cries for mercy. Her wide eyes went to the door. It was open. If she was free, she could make a run for it and try to find help. But her body kept losing strength with every strike. Slowly, her head drooped to her bare breasts
And then she saw the drops of blood. They dabbed the floor at her feet. His mouth opened, but she made no sound. Would he whip her until she bled to death? Julie’s mind slipped towards the edge of hopeless insanity as she thought that she was past any salvation.
“Julie? Are you---?”
Suddenly her hands were free. Julie scrambled away from Danielle’s touch and hid her head in her hair.
“Please, please, please! I’ll be good. I’ll do better.”
“Julie! Calm down.”
Danielle grabbed her shoulders and lifted her face. She still saw Pete, his face a tormenting leer that wanted nothing but to destroy her. But then, slowly, she returned to now, and as she realized it was Danielle, she relaxed.
Just a bad memory.
The customer scoffed out loud and ordered Danielle to make change.
“I’ve no time for crazy today,” she said.
Julie saw Danielle’s nostrils flare, and she had no idea what she would do next. Would she blast the woman and throw the flowers in her face? No. As Julie started to return to the present, she shook her head, not wanting to be the cause of any more problems.
She thought she saw Kim’s shadow passing behind the customer back, blaming her for a fatal fate.
With a soft pat of her cheek, Danielle rose to her full height and placed the three singles and some coins into the woman’s hand.
“Sorry for any delay Thanks a bunch. Have a fabulous day.” Danielle spoke the words with a stiff smile.
The woman took her change and stared down at Julie.
“You know, you should really tell your help to be---”
Danielle moved from behind the register to show the woman out.
“Thank you so much for you advice. I’ll certainly talk to her.”
The suntanned woman turned on her heel and exited the shop with a satisfied smirk. As Danielle watched her go, Julie’s mind went back to the whip. She had screwed up. The shattered glass and the blood were proof of that. Would Danielle strike her for the mistake? Julie could not bear the thought, but a small part of her felt that she deserved punishment. She screwed things up for everyone. Kim was dead, Ethan was stuck with damaged goods, and now she had hurt Danielle’s reputation.
Julie winced as Danielle crouched to her knees and tried to touch Julie’s face. Her scar.
“No…” Julie moaned as she shied away from Danielle’s hand.
Danielle sighed and kept going. Julie’s flesh crawled under her boss’ hands, but she was too tired from her memories to fight back as Danielle guided her to the back of the shop. Lowering her to the red futon just beyond her desk, Danielle sat at her side and gently touched her shoulder.
“Look,” Danielle starred, “I… kind of know what happened.”
Julie tensed and narrowed her eyes.
“From Nick? Or Ethan?”
She was ready for another betrayal as Danielle just shook her head.
“From the news, Julie.”
Suddenly, Julie flew into a frenzy at the tho
ught of what people were saying about her.
“What does that---?”
Danielle stopped her with a single finger to Julie’s lips.
“I watch, okay. I… I just know that it’s… that it happened to you. And I want you to win, Julie.”
She stared hard at Danielle. In that second, she trusted her.
“You do?” Julie whispered.
Daniele sighed as she stood. She found a towel and put pressure to Julie’s bleeding hand. As the wounded girl’s eyes moved back to the trail of crimson, she started to cry again.
“I’m trouble for everyone,” Julie said.
Danielle quickly shook her head.
“That’s not true. You’ve been a real help to me. And Ethan…”
What about Ethan? What did she know?
“Dani, was he better off without me?”
Please let her say no. Please…
Danielle’s face morphed into a tender smirk, and she stroked Julie’s hair.
“Nick said he was a zombie.”
Julie startled as she let it sink in. It made sense. Ethan was going through the motions. And that movement allowed him to think that Carter McCord was someone to be trusted. Maybe he had been too trusting.
“A zombie?” Julie asked.
Danielle nodded.
“Like so miserable. But… I can… I think he’s finally happy with you.”
Happy.
If there was not a trial, if the men among many who had tortured her were suddenly eradicated from the face of the earth, then they would truly know joy. It would be nearly normal, and they would go back to the roof.
And maybe she would have the courage to make love to him again.
“Is he?” Julie asked through her tears.
Danielle brushed them away with her soft fingers and a smile.
“He is so happy. Now let’s talk about you.”
Julie was not sure if she could.
“There’s… I broke the vases. And you’ll have others---”
“Not just yet.”
Danielle moved to the shop’s door and locked it. To be sure, she turned the small cardboard sign to “closed” and returned to Julie’s side.