by Gary Sapp
over her shoulder at him. “You need to hear this.”
“No I don’t, Angel, save it. I don’t need to hear another word about him. I love you with all my heart, Angel. You are the sister that I never had. I love Roxanne Sanchez with all of my heart as well. Yet, either one of you will let the past go.” He kicked around some dirt and then he said, “Damn, I need a drink.”
Christopher stormed off towards where he would summon the senior lieutenants of his Peacekeepers to drive him back to his new residence on the city’s far Westside. She knew she was running out of time and opportunity to do this. She had to find the will and courage to resolve this once and for all—“
“Keaton didn’t kill Erica, Christopher.” She had sprinted past him as fast as her gimpy leg would allow her and was facing him down. “Joseph Champion killed your step daughter. And at least part of me knew what both men were capable of before Nicholas Sheridan recruited me to come here to Atlanta to aid in the 411 investigations. My therapy sessions may have been the thing that tipped Keaton’s scales over. My lessons may have directly provoked this man into committing the second round of kidnapping that the world had come to know as the Atlanta Child Abductions and subsequent Murders.”
Christopher took one giant step forward. His neck was bulging and his throat was throbbing.
“What?” The man’s voice went deep and dark with anger. “What in the hell did you just say?”
“I…I knew…or at least I suspected that both were involved in what they both ended up doing. I was torn up about it. I had a lot going on in my life even before your former boss asked me to come here. I had my drinking. I had been a bad wife. Anyway, the night that Joseph Champion had come to see me we had decided to commit to a suicide pact. He claimed to want to end it all. I meant to see it through—at least this time. Yet, as the night went on and the drinking and the sex between us went on…”
“And what about the makeshift scenes that we examined with the dolls that we took for avatars of the missing children,”
“It was Champion again,” She chose the tenor of next sentence carefully. “If you’ll remember back to those days, I strongly suggested to you and the rest of the FBI that Keaton didn’t have the mental make up to create those models that we were left behind for us to find. But there was more: We thought Serena was using Champion but it turns out that it was the other way around. Serena was misguided maybe even a delusional. Champion was something else entirely. He had aligned himself with men like James Carter—with men who had nothing but hatred in their minds and hearts for people of color and always will.” Angel wouldn’t tell Christopher about the true nature of the poison that had taken President Sweet and Mayor Johnson from the face of the earth before their time. She wouldn’t reveal to him what she knew about his plans for a mass extermination of her friend’s race from the planet. If it was written that she would lose his love to protect the lives of potentially millions of others—then that would be what was written. If it she had to sacrifice all of the angels in Heaven to save Heaven itself then so be it.
Christopher still hadn’t opened his mouth to say anything further and it frightened her to the bone.
“Christopher, I’m sorry,”
All he gave her in return was silence.
She tried to rest her hand on one of his shoulders, but he shrugged it off with emphasis.
“Don’t touch me,” He spat out. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”
They both waited the silence out.
“Say something, Christopher,” She finally could stand it no longer. All he did in response was to do a roundabout to avoid her, speeding up faster and faster, while she struggled to keep up the pursuit on her damned gimpy leg. “Tell me that you hate me, Christopher—tell me that you forgive me, but Goddamn you, please don’t leave me like this. Don’t leave me alone. You’re my best friend. You’re the only friend I have in this whole world.”
He shocked her by stopping his motion and spinning around so fast that they nearly knocked foreheads.
“Leave this place, Angel,” He spat words again. Christopher’s people had taken considerable interest in their conversation as it had escalated. Angel saw Roxanne, merely a finely crafted silhouette with her arms crossed in the distance. Seth’s gray eyes were wide-eyed as he worked his way through the park with purpose. Angel could imagine this situation getting out of hand in a hurry. “I want you to walk away from this place while you still can.”
Angel stood in that same block of space for a long time after she heard the car engine driving the only friend she’d ever known away from the park—and out of her life.
Her husband Seth looked like a statue in the park. The shadow that was Roxanne Sanchez finally moved away an inch at a time to comfort the man she loved—and give him space at the same time.
Angel cried.
With the exception of her devoted husband, Seth she knew that Dragon’s prediction of her isolation was all but true. Serena Tennyson had been proven nearly right. Lisa Healy had been proven nearly correct as well.
And yet their gods had been proven wrong—at least for now. There was one silver lining in an otherwise dark room. I only lay down with you, Brad. She had told herself over and again since that day in Memphis. I didn’t have sex with you, Brad.
And if she had, the Gray Man wouldn’t ever know anyhow.
She was getting better. She was better.
Perhaps Christopher would come around after his initial anger had had its say and his true feelings surfaced.
She was alive.
As long as she lived, her redemption was possibly still at hand.
Dr. Angel Hicks Dupree was alive.
And yet, she felt so very alone.
Seth
The Grand Jury walked back into the court and took their anointed place to Dr. Seth Dupree’s left.
None of them looked in his or any of the few people who had been allowed to see these proceedings in person. It irked him, just a little, that these 12 people could carry the verdict of a man’s spouse without even having to look at him.
Seth Dupree stood in his accustomed spot in this courtroom as he had in the days since this Grand Jury had convened. Soon after, Angel and her lawyer was a tall drink of water entered the scene and took their familiar places. The federal prosecutor, whose nose hairs were killing time above his top lip, looked confident and stood on the opposite of the room with his hands clamped in front of him. Finally, the judge made it a perfect attendance for all the outstanding parties involved spoke into his mike and informed everyone that they could be seated.
He read through some preliminary instructions to the Grand Jury and when he spoke again he said: “Ms. Chairperson, Have you reached a verdict in the case of the State of Georgia against Dr. Angel Hicks Dupree?”
“We have your honor,”
“Very well,” He said and encouraged the defendant and her lawyer to stand up.
He saw as his wife glanced momentarily in his direction before paying her full attention back to the judge and jury. Seth could feel his heart thumping in his chest. There was no doubt in his mind that his wife had committed wrongdoings—but he didn’t want to see her locked away like some common criminal.
He flashed her one of his best smiles though he truly wasn’t feeling what the smile represented one bit.
And he felt it fade just as quickly as Christopher Prince enters the courtroom. The man’s appearance drew the attention from everyone already seated inside, especially Angel and the judge herself. Why would the new leader of a House in Chains come here? And more importantly, whose guest is he as this invitation only affair of the federal government?
It took four solid minutes for the judge to quiet the room down enough to allow the chairperson to announce that Angel was not guilty on three relatively minor occurrences of conspiracy.
Seth knew that it was time for them all to learn her fate on the more serious offenses.
The judge cleared his voice and studied the verdict before speaking furth
er.
“On the indictment of conspiracy to participate in the kidnapping of six Atlanta minors, with the subsequent loss of lives of two of those children, how do you find?”
“We find the defendant, Dr. Angel Hicks Dupree, not guilty.”
Seth could see his wife literally sigh in relief just as he could feel himself doing the same. Angel’s lawyer flashed his wife a stern look and Seth recognized it immediately: She knows this isn’t over. There is one significant charge left.
“On the indictment of conspiracy to commit terrorist attacks on or against a person or persons of the United States of America on April 11, 2011, how do you find?”
“We find the defendant, Dr. Angel Hicks Dupree,” The Chairperson paused for breath and then said, “We find the defendant guilty.”
Noises, both loud and soft, go through the small crowd in the courtroom. The Judge pounds his gavel repeatedly to retain order in his courtroom. Seth shot out of his seat. Chris Prince’s face was empty of emotion and betrayed little else.
Angel looked ill. She leaned on her lawyer for physical support.
“Dr. Hicks Dupree if you would remain standing,” The Judge said without looking at her.
Angel’s lawyer said, “Judge, on behalf of my client, I respectfully submit to this court that I plan to appeal this verdict to the appellate courts—
The Judge nodded as if he’d heard this motion in his courtroom before.
“This is your right, of course, Counselor,” He finally