by Riley Moreno
“That’s how I heard it. Matt…”
Morales cringed as Peter Bowen forced out a few crocodile tears. But Morales was not fooled. She knew that the man in the witness box was a raping demon, and she felt confident that the jury would see him for everything that he was.
That was until Vivian Porter unleashed the trick card up her Chanel sleeve.
“Lights, please.”
The courtroom darkened, and everyone waited as Vivian stared her own slideshow in full force. There was Peter Bowen in a long shot, legs intact, and at his side, with a bottle of Budweiser in his hand, was a dead man.
“Is this your friend?” Vivian asked, her voice laced with concern. Peter Bowen stared at the image, and Morales thought that she saw a faint trace of loss in his eyes. But was it for the late, singularly lamented blonde boy that could have been his better looking twin? Or was the witness just missing his legs?
“Yeah. Uh… ma’am. That’s Matt.”
Every inch of the investigation pointed to the fact that Matt seemed like a good kid. He was an honor’s student, star player on a travelling soccer team before he was drafted to his high school’s squad. They really were from a town in Florida. But that was where their truth ended and Julie’s nightmare began.
Vivian Porter patted his shoulder, and Morales cringed at the thought of him enjoying the warmth of human contact.
But if she could do this, if she could defend them, was Vivian Porter anything close to human?
“Now, Pete,” she started in a soft, velvety voice. “How about you tell us how you got mixed up with this?”
Leo offered an objection, but Warner reminded him that he had opened the door, and he could do nothing but wait and hope that his witness would follow the rehearsed script.
“Well…” Pete started. “We had to get girls. For rich guys, you know?”
“I understand that.”
Morales shifted her gaze back to the defendants. What the fuck was she doing? Was she not supposed to prove their innocence even though Kim was nowhere to be found?
“And were my defendants among you clients?” Vivian asked.
Peter Bowen looked to the defense table and slowly nodded.
“Yeah. I mean… they were there.”
She watched Leo’s back tense at the statement. On the surface, possibly to the jury, this seemed like something that would only aid their cause, but Morales knew how Leo looked when tense only too well, and she shifted forward in her seat as Vivian Porter left Peter Bowen’s eyes and faced the jury.
“So they were there,” she started. “No one is denying that. But in addition to Kimberly Beyer, I believe there was another girl?”
“Right, Jules.”
Morales wanted to rush him, pull out her gun, stuff his head full of bullets. How dare he make like they were friends. But even as she fought the urge to charge from her seat, her mind went back to the name Juliet. That’s what Ethan Graff called her now. Was that wrong? Why did anyone have the right to use versions of her name to scare or subdue her? No. Morales pushed the bad thoughts from her brain. On this point, she was not on Leo’s wavelength. Pushing any doubt aside, Morales was grateful that Julie had Ethan. But would the battered girl hold up under Vivian Porter’s cross?
“And Juliet Edwards is alive.”
Don’t call her that.
“Well yeah. She… she shot Matt.”
“Objection.”
About fucking time, Leo!
“Sustained.”
Thank whatever god for small miracles. It was well-documented that Julie had fired the fatal shot, but there were also photos of Matt smirking as Julie was raped. Everything was presented pre-trial, and even Warner had no desire to see the girl violated all over again. It had nothing to do with what Peter Bowen was here to discuss. So Vivian Porter had to regroup.
And she did so masterfully.
“Did you see Kimberly Beyer die?”
Peter Bowen appeared to consider the question carefully, and Morales imagined all the ways in which Kim would have been disposed of as the bastards set off in search of Julie.
And he swore to tell the whole truth.
“No.”
A light murmur filled the courtroom, and Morales saw the jurors exchange glances. No one had seen Kimberly Beyer for months, but an extensive search yielded no body either. She knew that these lay people were amateurs in every sense of the word. A body was better than not, but connect the dots, ladies and gentleman! She was held, abused, forced into sex, and now she was gone. Even if Ethan Graff hadn’t seen her weakened form, where else could she be but dead?
“Because you were too focused on trying to find Juliet Edwards?” Vivian asked.
Peter Bowen shifted in his seat, again made a show of fingering his stumps, and then he looked to Vivian with a weary stare.
“Look, we took them. And yeah. Your guys did things to them. But the only person dead that I know for sure…”
He formed a fist and pounded it into the witness stand. Was he really crying? Good. He would cry more when he served out his sentence. Morales pictured Julie scared all the time, and she wanted to tell her that Peter Bowen was locked away for good and all. Add the defendants into the mix. She actually smiled at the idea that she could tell Julie that they were suffering as she had, possibly for a lifetime. But she knew Julie. It wouldn’t bring her any true comfort, so Morales would save her imaginings for Leo. He would appreciate and understand her twisted delight at the thought of McCord and Troxel tortured until they couldn’t breathe.
Peter Bowen’s next words intruded upon her thoughts.
“Is Matt,” he choked out. “Yeah they were there. But I… I don’t… I don’t know for sure what happened to Kim.”
“Objection!”
Leo was on his feet, his nostrils flaring, and Morales watched him as he tried not to crumble as his deal fell away.
“Mr. Barber---”
“He saw her bloodied, he saw he bruised. He can’t claim innocence now---”
“Careful, Mr. Barber,” Warner said. “He is your witness.”
Morales nearly had her gun drawn as Vivian Porter got in Leo’s face and lowered her voice to a whisper.
“Allow me to finish, Mr. Barber,” Vivian said.
Leo raged quietly but did as he was told. Vivian raised the lights and took Peter Bowen’s hand.
“So if we’re all being honest here,” Vivian said. “You have no idea what happened to poor Kim?”
Peter shook his head swiftly.
“Not really.”
“And where is she now?” Vivian Porter asked.
Pete glanced at the defendants before answering.
“I never saw her again after that night,” he whispered.
“Thank you, Mr. Bowen,” Vivian said. “No further questions.”
“Redirect, Mr. Barber,” Judge Warner asked.
Morales watched Leo’s shoulders tense as he pushed away from his notes and approached the witness.
“Long and short, Mr. Bowen,” he started. “Based on what you saw that night, did you think that Kimberly Beyer was dead?”
“Objection,” Vivian said.
Warner narrowed her eyes at the defense attorney.
“You opened the door, counsel,” she said. “Overruled.”
Leo nodded his thanks to Warner and asked the question again.
“Well… I mean… I guess so. But like I said… I never saw her again.”
From her vantage point, Morales saw Leo’s shoulders sag ever so slightly, and her mind drifted to the possibility that Pete might be telling the truth.
And if so, was Ethan Graff lying?
13
Ethan was in Leo’s office, supposedly on his lunch break. He got the call after Donna had brought him a fresh cup of coffee, and his knuckles went white around the edge of his desk when he heard the order to get in here to clear some stuff up.
Pushing his cup aside, struggling to think what might have gone wrong, he came
up blank. He told Donna to reschedule his afternoon appointment with Phyllis Felcher. Something told him that whatever Leo Barber wanted to discuss might require the rest of his day if not longer.
“Mr. Graff. Come in.”
Ethan took a seat before Leo’s desk and wondered where Morales was. The two seemed attached at the hip, and while the cop was the one who had suggested the testimony, Ethan still wanted to see her now. At least she seemed to truly care about Juliet. Leo Barber seemed more concerned with winning.
“I’ll be brief,” Leo said.
“I would appreciate that.”
Leo turned on the TV, and Ethan watched the most recent events of the trial pour through the screen. A woman with blonde hair reported from the courthouse steps, and the gist of her observations was that the presence of no body made this something of a witch hunt. Sure, Troxel and his son-in-law were guilty of solicitation, a word far too polite for what had actually happened. Ethan seethed at the thought of the little shit’s hazel eyes flashing the devil’s stare as they feasted on Juliet’s naked, bound body.
She was trembling when he found her. For an entire summer, he thought of her doing nothing but shaking, crying, pleading. Any hope of rescue had to fade with each passing day, and he imagined her terrified by the thought that she would never find salvation. Ethan knew sleepless nights better than anyone, but at least he had a normalcy to return to as he dragged his exhausted body from a lonely bed. Juliet didn’t have that same comfort in the space of those horrific months. She could only cling to the moments in between the rapes, and he wondered if he could really sit quietly when she finally took the stand. The men that had pretended to be his friends believed that he would accept their horror show like it was just another Saturday night, had hurt her horribly. Even when Juliet smiled and struck an easy pose in his presence, Ethan knew that she would never forget.
And he wanted to make them remember, to pay. But to hear the blonde on the screen tell it, there was a new fly in the ointment.
Leo muted the coverage and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“So you didn’t see them take her out?” Leo asked.
Ethan’s response was quick and curt.
“No I didn’t,” he said as he buttoned his jacket. He wanted to leave as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
“See,” Leo said as he sat back in his chair. “That’s kind of a problem.”
Ethan bit down on his lip.
Problem? Your problem. Why can’t you just fucking do your goddamn job?
“Mr. Bowen confirmed you story,” Leo continued. “Kim was hurt. She was---”
“She was dead, Mr. Barber.”
The memory of her wide eyes and limp form caused him to shudder. And in that moment, Ethan could think of nothing but getting back to Juliet. It could have been her so easily, and so he saved her. He remembered dragging her though the forest. He hadn’t loved her then; the only thing on his mind was keeping her safe. And that was probably a good thing. If they found themselves in that same place after he had held her, kissed her, tried to calm her incessant nightmares, Ethan feared that he might slip up. He would scream like a madman at the sight of her injuries, and his desire to shred her attackers would have caused him to leave her vulnerable in a bid to tear into the bastards. Had he not been tied down, he would have done as much for his sister. He never got that chance. But Juliet was alive, and she needed him to try to keep it together.
“You okay, Mr. Graff?” Leo asked.
Ethan forced a nod and sighed before he spoke.
“I’ll be a whole hell of a lot better when you just finish this,” Ethan said.
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Leo said. “Here.”
He handed him a flimsy tissue. Ethan loathed his show of weakness, but try as he might, he simply could not help it. Images of Juliet assaulted, the sound of her voice pleading for mercy, flooded his ears, and his tears fell at the thought of her harmed. He would have felt that way even if he hadn’t been the one who had saved her, even if he met her some other way. If he had the power, he would erase the nightmare from her memories. At the very least, he would take her away at the conclusion of this dirty business. He would show her places and moments where she would start to put the trauma behind her. Ethan would see to that.
“Look,” Leo started as he leaned across his desk. The lawyer looked scared, and the sight filled Ethan with a new fear.
“I don’t think that you would have just left Kim if you truly thought she was alive.”
“Damn straight.”
Even as Ethan spoke the words, he wasn’t so sure. Juliet was the one that had touched his heart and seemed to need his help. Maybe he would have forgotten the other victim just to get her away from that house of horrors and…
No!
“If I could have, I would have. I would have saved them both,” Ethan said.
Leo tapped is fingers to his chin and finally sighed.
“Sorry you didn’t get the chance.”
Ethan blinked as he wiped his eyes with the back of tissue and groaned.
“Juliet’s safe,” he finally said. “And I… I need her to stay that way. So what happens now?”
As if on cue, his door opened. And there was Morales with her dark hair high above her neck in a tight bun. She smiled quickly at Leo before looking to him. Ethan thought he saw suspicion in her stare, and as he started to rise, wanting nothing but to tell his story again, the cop gestured for him to stay put and pulled another chair to his side.
“Does he get it?” Morales asked, looking only at Leo Barber.
“We were nearly there,” Leo said.
Ethan’s blood turned to ice as they kept their conversation semi-private. The glances that passed between them were full of a meaning that Ethan could only guess at, but he trusted his instincts as took hold of the cop’s arm.
“What the hell is happening?” Ethan demanded.
Morales waited for Leo to nod before she spoke.
“Listen to me, Ethan.”
And then Morales told the tale. Peter Bowen’s testimony implied that Kimberly Beyer was not dead, and while Vivian Porter was making a point of admitting that her clients had in fact engaged in some questionable extracurricular activities, that, in her mind, was where their guilt began and ended. So this charge of murder was a joke. Ethan hated the idea that these men would get off, but he seized on the chance of saving Juliet from having to face them again.
“Put me in that box,” Ethan said. “I’ll tell them what happened.”
Morales looked to Leo, figuratively tossing the ball back into his court.
The lawyer appeared to ponder Ethan’s offer, almost seemed to see the wisdom in the request. But then he twisted his head before he spoke.
“Won’t work,” Leo said. “Not now.”
Ethan tried to explain all the ways in which Leo Barber had to be wrong, and he looked to Morales for aid. But the cop sadly shook her head and barely touched his hand.
“Hate to say it, but he’s right,” Morales started. “Peter Bowen already has them thinking that this is just a weekend gone wild gone worse. And you…”
Leo looked like he had finally won an argument, and Ethan silently wondered why he couldn’t apply the same skill to this case.
“You will only confuse the issue,” Morales said.
“Why?” Ethan demanded, his blood boiling.
“Because they’ll say that you’re trying to cover your own ass,” Morales said. “And… and the fact that you’re… involved with Julie. That’s just more blood in the water.”
Now he rose to his feet and stared them both down, his breath heaving in his chest, sweat starting to dot his reddening face.
“What are you getting at?” he asked. “You think… you think I’m like them?”
“Of course not, Mr. Graff,” Leo said. “But---”
“You think it’s ugly,” Ethan continued, making no effort to conceal his disgust in the wake of the accusation. �
��It’s not. I saved her. I would do it again. And as long as she needs me, I’m not leaving her.”
Morales stood and peered into his eyes. For the first time, Ethan wondered what she really thought of him. Would he have stayed a hero in her eyes if he wasn’t still sheltering the damaged girl from a capsized world? Fine. Let her think that. There was nothing wrong with the way he felt about her. Nothing.
“I realize that,” Morales said, her expression unreadable. “And we’re not going to give them the chance to convince the jury that she and Kim were anything but victims. But you take the stand, and that flies right out the window.”
Ethan’s mind flashed to his murdered parents, his sister. Had there been an arrest, it wouldn’t have played out like this. Ethan had seen and identified his family’s bodies. How he longed to hunt those killers down, but he only got close in the space of the rare dark dream. But here and now were Carter McCord and the son of a bitch that linked his daughter’s life to the man that had hurt Juliet so horribly.
He was still hurting her even now.
“Juliet? What happened to your hand?”
She tried to hide it and rush to the bathroom. It was nothing. That’s what she said, but when Juliet winced at his touch, Ethan could feel the pain exploding through her flesh, and he turned her close to him. Juliet lowered her eyes. He could take that, but when she flinched at the feel of his hand on her face, Ethan knew that she was scared again. He started to speak but ultimately decided that she needed more than his words. She needed comfort, and so he folded her against his chest.
“It’s okay,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m here.”
Juliet spun her arms around his neck and clutched him desperately. As much as he hated the feel of her scared, Ethan gathered her trembling body into his arms and pressed his lips to her ear.
“I’m right here.”
She looked up at him and tried to speak. When she couldn’t form the words, Ethan held her tighter and led her back to his bed. He laid her out and started to turn the blanket over her quivering form. How he longed to just hold her, to keep whispering into ear. Kicking off his shoes, he nestled into the space beside her and touched her moist face.