Sunfall (Book 3): Impact

by Gideon, D.

  She’d had to borrow the blanket from one of the unused cots in the restroom to use as a pillow. They hadn’t even given her that small comfort.

  The smell of coffee hit her, and despite her lack of appetite, her stomach growled. She craned her neck to see into the room it seemed to be coming from, but Frank tugged on her and snapped her attention forward again.

  There was a pair of large double doors at the end of the hall. Just before them, Cathy emerged from the doorway to another side-room. She pulled the door shut behind her as she looked at her watch, but her head snapped up at the sound of their approach. Her eyes went wide.

  “Residence: Cathy Riggs,” Dotty read from the sign as they neared. “Well haven’t you moved up in the world?”

  Cathy sneered and tugged her shirt into place. “Some of us know how to work with the system.”

  “No talking,” Frank repeated, and hurried her along. Dotty heard Cathy start walking behind them. Just what she needed: her own personal escort of hate on her way to her life sentence.

  Life Sentence.

  That had been the phrase Bishop Sorenson had used when he’d come back to see her earlier this afternoon. He’d walked in with a rolling black case stuffed to overflowing with binders and papers, a sports bra from Ripley that had grudgingly gotten Frank’s approval after a thorough inspection, and a grim expression that told her none of his news would be good.

  In Maryland, a first-degree attempted murder charge carried a maximum sentence of life in jail. Sorenson stressed that it was the State’s responsibility to prove that she had actually planned to murder Jack Wilhelm and had sat in wait. He knew they couldn’t do it beyond a reasonable doubt.

  “They’ve got no evidence, no witnesses of you setting up a plan,” he’d said. “They can’t prove that you knew Jack would be walking along that sidewalk.”

  “He wasn’t on the sidewalk,” Dotty had told him. “He wasn’t even walking - he had a car.”

  “I know that, and I’m going to try to trip him up on that. But it’s the story they’re going with, so they’ll have to prove it.”

  Dotty wasn’t so sure they’d have to prove anything. Not with Wilhelm presiding over the case. She figured she was in this for the long haul, and that cot was going to be her bed for the rest of her natural life.

  The double doors opened up to the big gymnasium where Sheriff Kane had disrupted Wilhelm’s town hall. They started walking down the length of it. Rows and rows of cots lined the space, many with people on them. Some sat with their clothes and bags piled next to them, others had tucked their meager belongings underneath. The heat was oppressive and a shock to her system, after staying in that cold tile bathroom all night. When the heavy doors swung shut behind them with a bang, most of the occupants turned to look.

  Dotty felt her face flush red. Instinct told her to drop her head and hunch her shoulders so she’d be harder to see, and she started to, before she remembered who she was.

  She was the widow of a good, good man. She was the proud mother of a Navy sailor. She was grandmother to an entire herd of young people--not all of them by blood, but hers nonetheless--and she was the daughter of the king of kings.

  She straightened her spine, lifted her chin and stared straight ahead as Frank paraded her past most of the town. With her hands cuffed and her legs shackled, police pulling her along, she refused to be ashamed.

  She had stood up for her innocent grandchild. She had kept her silence and protected a man who did what he did to protect her and her family.

  She was proud of those things.

  Her bound hands came up to rub the little cross pendant at her throat, and she frowned when she found only cotton there. Frank had taken that, too. Him, and King Kenny, and Cindy...they were trying to take everything she had.

  They couldn’t, no matter how hard they tried. God was with her, always. She didn’t need pretty jewelry to remind her of that.

  Someone whistled, and someone else called out “Selfish bitch!”

  She kept staring ahead. Even when someone yelled “Good catch, Chief!”

  Even when the applause started, and swelled. And when a flip-flop came sailing through the air to strike her directly in the chest. That started a chain reaction, and more strange items started landing around them. More shoes. A rolled-up pair of socks. A wadded MRE packet. Various pieces of trash.

  Would this gymnasium never end?

  They finally pushed through another pair of double doors into another cool, relatively quiet hall. There were fewer doors dotting the sides of this one, and they were spaced incredibly far apart in comparison.

  Must be big rooms, Dotty thought. Surprised the Council didn’t take these for their residences.

  There were a few people standing outside another set of double doors, but it was no one she recognized.

  “In here,” Frank said, and pushed one of them open. She stepped through to a cafeteria, complete with school-type benches attached to tables. Quite a few people were seated among them. She recognized a few faces from seeing them in passing around town; another few had been occasional customers at Teddy’s hardware store. She scanned quickly, looking for her family. None of them were there.

  At the head of the room, a long brown table had been set up, and Wilhelm stood behind it, conferring with Cindy. Another two tables sat about ten feet in front of that one, with a generous space between them. Sorenson stood at the one on the right, and smiled sadly as she was brought in. Jack sat at the other, looking sullen. He was wearing a dress shirt that was too big for him and an expensive tie, and she nearly snorted. Someone had gone to a lot of work to make him look like such an innocent, nice young man.

  Frank escorted her all the way up to the table, and didn’t let go of her arm until she was seated in the chair Sorenson held out for her.

  Cathy slipped onto the bench closest to the plaintiff’s table.

  “Where will my family be seated?” Dotty asked Frank as he started to turn away.

  He raised his eyebrows. “They won’t. They’ll have to wait in the lobby. The judge has determined they’ll be too disruptive to the proceedings.”

  “But all these strangers get to watch?” Dotty said.

  “These strangers are here to witness you getting a fair trial, so no one can claim there was any funny business later on,” Frank said. He directed this last at Sorenson. “It saves time.”

  He turned and strode off before she could think of anything else to ask. Stella stood, fidgeting, and finally moved a little behind Dotty’s chair.

  “It’s really not a requirement for you to stand there,” Sorenson said. “Attending officers usually stand on the side of the room, or take a seat in the back.”

  “I was told to stand here,” Stella whispered.

  “I cannot conduct confidential communications with my client with you directly behind her chair,” Sorenson said. “Please find somewhere else to stand.”

  “I have to stand here,” Stella whispered again, with more force.

  “It’s fine, Bishop,” Dotty said. He shook his head.

  “No, it’s not.” He stood and motioned to Frank, who had joined Cindy. “Chief Stalls, your officer is violating my client’s right to confidentiality. I’d like to request that she be moved.”

  “Denied,” Wilhelm said, without looking up from some papers he was shuffling on his table. “Your client’s a dangerous suspect. She needs to be guarded to protect the members of this court.”

  “But Your Honor-”

  “Denied,” Wilhelm said, fixing Sorenson with a glare. Then he looked around the room and cleared his throat. “Everyone, take your seats please. Let’s get this over with.”

  Dotty

  Dotty quickly started to wish she’d spent more time watching those crime shows on TV, just so she could keep up. There was a lot of procedural mumbo-jumbo narrated by a woman with frizzy red hair, involving everyone rising after they’d just been told to be seated, and then being told to be seated again,
and Wilhelm introducing himself and thanking everyone for coming. He read off the charges against Dotty and asked her how she pleaded.

  “Your Honor,” Sorenson said, standing again and lifting a piece of paper. “Before we begin, I’d like to file this request with the Court. If I may approach the...bench?”

  “You may not.” Wilhelm looked around and gestured to the redhead. “Samantha, if you would?”

  Samantha crossed over and took the paper, and moved quickly to hand it to Wilhelm. He slid his glasses further down his nose and scanned over it.

  “What the hell is this?” he asked.

  “The Defense requests that Your Honor recuse himself from this trial, based on his personal association with the alleged victim. This is a clear and blatant conflict of intere-”

  “Denied,” Wilhelm said, and dropped the paper aside.

  “But Your Honor, the alleged victim is your son,” Sorenson said. “Surely-”

  “Are you implying that I’m incapable of being fair and impartial during a court proceeding? Is that really how you want to start this trial? Insulting me?”

  “Of course not, Your Honor. The Defense apologizes for any misunderstanding,” Sorenson said.

  “Good. Now, Mrs. Parker. How do you plead?”

  “I’d like to request a trial by jury of my peers,” Dotty said.

  “Mrs. Parker,” Sorenson murmured. “Don’t-”

  “You’re not getting one,” Wilhelm said. “We don’t have the time or even the manpower to provide you with a jury. Now how do you-”

  “You’ve got all of these people seated here in the cafeteria--err, the courtroom,” Dotty said. “Couldn’t they stand as a jury?”

  Wilhelm removed his glasses and set them down on the table. He made a show of leaning forward and speaking directly to a small handheld recorder that was sitting on the table in front of him. “Let the record show that the Defendant is refusing to enter a plea.”

  “I’m not refusing to enter a plea. I’d just like to do so in front of a jury,” Dotty said.

  “The Court does not have a jury available for you at this time. Your lawyer can feel free to appeal any decisions made by this court, and even demand a re-trial if he’d like. But we’re moving forward with this today. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Sorenson said. He gave her a hard look.

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Dotty echoed. “I plead Not Guilty to all charges.”

  “Of course you do,” Wilhelm muttered, and slipped his glasses back on. “Does the State have any opening arguments?”

  “We certainly do, Your Honor,” Cindy said, standing. “The State intends to prove, through witness testimony and through signed and recorded statements, that the defendant is guilty of all charges.”

  “Objection,” Sorenson said. “Anything signed and recorded outside of this courtroom is not admissible as evidence.”

  “Overruled,” Wilhelm said.

  And it was more of the same, all the way through. Most of it was a blur of indignant outrage for Dotty. Despite Sorenson’s many objections, Cindy played the recording of Dotty’s confession aloud. Jack made a statement and outright lied. Wilhelm even allowed Cathy to stand up and make a statement about all the food she’d seen in Dotty’s house before, and how Dotty had refused to give her any chicken the day she was canning it.

  There was one bright spot when Dotty thought they might get the whole thing thrown out.

  Jack was testifying. “And that’s when she just started shooting at me. I hadn’t done nuffin’!”

  “So that’s when you pulled out the Hi-Point and fired in defense?” Sorenson asked.

  Jack’s head jerked back and he sneered. “Hi-Point? I ain’t carry no Hi-Point trash. I used my Glock.”

  “Did you empty the magazine?” Sorenson pressed.

  “Naw, man. I only fired three o’ four shots,” Jack said, waving a hand.

  “Just enough to get back to the car,” Sorenson said affably, nodding and shrugging as if this was the most reasonable thing in the world.

  Cindy, who’d been writing something on a legal pad next to Jack, suddenly straightened and her eyes went wide.

  Jack shrugged too, unconsciously mimicking Sorenson. “Yeah, man. I was gettin’ my ass outta there like she told me to do-” He jabbed his thumb towards Cindy.

  “Objection!” Cindy barked.

  “On what grounds?” Sorenson said.

  “On um, on…”

  Sorenson interrupted and tipped his head at Cindy. “Bet she gave you shit about the blood in her car.”

  “Yeah man, she was pissed,” Jack started.

  “Objection!” Cindy shrieked.

  “On what grounds?” Sorenson said again.

  “I don’t know what grounds! But I object to this! All of this!” Cindy said.

  “Counsel for the defense will get back to the point,” Wilhelm said.

  “Defense moves for dismissal of all charges, Your Honor,” Sorenson said.

  Wilhelm rolled his eyes. “On what grounds?”

  “The State witness’ testimony has revealed that he was not walking in front of Mrs. Parker’s house, but was in fact driving, and that he came to her house armed with a Glock pistol-”

  “Inconclusive. Denied,” Wilhelm said.

  “And that he was definitely aided and possibly instructed in these actions by Mrs. Stalls, who is representing the State-”

  “You put words in his mouth!” Cindy said.

  “Counsel is speculating,” Wilhelm said, stressing the last word.

  Cindy caught on. “Objection! Speculation!”

  “Sustained,” Wilhelm said.

  “Your Honor, State’s counsel has been implicated through testimony. The State’s witness has changed his story from his initial statement. There’s no way this trial can move forward,” Sorenson held out his hands. “Be reasonable-”

  “The mere fact that I’m even having this trial shows I’m being reasonable,” Wilhelm said. “Does counsel have any more questions for the witness?”

  “I have plenty of questions, Your Honor, like when did Mrs. Stalls first contact him about going to Mrs. Parker’s house-”

  “The court acknowledges that counsel for the defense has no more relevant questions for the witness,” Wilhelm said. “The witness may step down.”

  There was no podium, no witness box. Jack looked around in confusion. “Step down from where? I’m sittin’.”

  Wilhelm sighed. “It means you’re finished testifying. Chief Stalls, please escort the witness to a waiting room.”

  And so it went.

  Frank Stalls, for his part, didn’t outright lie during his testimony. He gave a heavily-overblown rendition of the facts, in Dotty’s opinion, but he didn’t make anything up. At one point, they brought Jack back in and had him remove his shirt so the judge—meaning, the crowd—could fully see his wounds. Cindy did her best to imply that the pattern of the shot was indicative of someone aiming for Jack’s head. When Sorenson pointed out that the majority of the shot was centered on his lower back, Cindy argued that the shotgun was probably too heavy for Dotty to keep pointing in an upward angle. Sorenson pointed out Dotty’s relative fitness, and how she’d regularly lifted gallons of paint and heavy tools at the hardware store earlier in the year. The crowd murmured their disagreements here and there during the trial. To Dotty, it seemed that Wilhelm’s plan of getting the town to go along with his and Cindy’s version of events wasn’t working quite the way he planned.

  In the end, to no one’s surprise, Wilhelm found her guilty of all three charges.

  “When would you like to set the date for the sentencing, Your Honor?” Sorenson asked, flipping through his planner.

  “I’ll set the sentencing right now,” Wilhelm said.

  “Your Honor, the Defense requests time-“

  “Sit down, counsel, before I find you in contempt.”

  Sorenson’s hands were fists when Dotty pulled on his suit sleeve.
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br />   “This makes a kangaroo court look like SCOTUS,” he muttered as he slipped back into his chair.

  The “State” wanted maximum penalties awarded for all of the charges, served consecutively. Cindy actually read from a piece of paper as she requested this. Dotty wondered if those notes were scrawled in Wilhelm’s handwriting.

  Consecutive sentences meant that Dotty could not file for parole on a particular sentence until all the other sentences were satisfied. With the very first one being life in prison, that meant she’d never see parole.

  Wilhelm accepted the State’s recommendation and gave her the maximum penalty for all three charges.

  Dotty couldn’t think. She felt frozen in place. She stared at Wilhelm without really seeing him. The paper he held in his hand while he read the sentencing was in sharp focus, and everything around it seemed blurred out. There was a strange low tone buzzing in her ear, but it was background noise.

  The boys. She might never see the boys again. She’d never get to hold her daughter and tell her how proud her mama was for all that she’d sacrificed to see that her children had a good, safe life away from the streets of Baltimore. There’d be no more sitting on the porch swing and drinking a cool glass of iced tea on a warm summer evening. No more talking about the most inconsequential things with Bill, that often turned out to be the most important things of all.

  Just a cold cell. Years of cinder block walls and isolation. All of the years that were left to her.

  It was so incomprehensible. It didn’t seem real.

  Something squeezed her shoulder and that low buzz repeated. In a daze, she turned her head to see what in the world it could be.

  A hand. It was a man’s hand. Confused, her gaze followed the hand to its arm, and up to its shoulder.

  Sorenson had taken hold of her shoulder, and he was talking intensely to someone else, not looking at her. His other hand was gesturing at the papers in front of him and at her.