Mr. Lee told the jury a story of the most probable way that Carlee died. He showed them phone records indicating that Bill Summers had called Carlee more than forty times during the week before she died. According to Beth Summers, Big Bill was hounding Carlee to come by his house and patch up their differences. Mr. Lee speculated that Carlee decided to give her father a chance, and as she feared, it was an attempt to make her leave Deer Lake Farm and return to her father's home. The visit turned into a tragic confrontation in which Bill Summers physically tried to keep Carlee from leaving until he could convince her to move back home. During their struggle, Big Bill accidently caused Carlee's death when she fell and bashed her head on the fireplace.
Mr. Lee proposed that Big Bill heard and then read the incoming text message I had sent to Carlee's phone and saw an opportunity to avoid responsibility for the tragedy and destroy me at the same time. Carlee was already dead when Big Bill responded to me with a text that he knew would make me rush to the Summers' home. After I found Carlee and placed myself in a compromising position, Big Bill called the authorities, and they found it easy to believe his story when they saw Carlee and me. It worked to Big Bill's advantage that I had gone into shock and could say nothing coherent in my defense when the authorities arrived.
The solicitor presented a different story from the one Mr. Lee offered. Mr. Stark wanted the jury to believe that Big Bill and Max had been outside that morning in the garden to review some work the landscapers had done. When they came into the house, Big Bill passed by the family room and saw me kneeling over Carlee's body. Before that moment, he was unaware that either of us was in his house. He assumed that we had argued again, that Carlee left me, and that I followed her to his house where I accidently killed her in a fit of rage because she wouldn't leave with me. Big Bill admitted to kicking me several times when he thought I was trying to get up and leave. Eventually he pulled a gun from his cabinet to keep me there while he called 911.
Max Summers testified that the night before Carlee's death he had attended a party on the same street where his Uncle Bill lived. After having too much to drink, he decided to spend the night with his uncle instead of attempting to drive the five miles to his parents' home. Max stated that he knew nothing about the incident until he walked into the room a few minutes after his Uncle Bill to see Carlee and me on the floor, and his Uncle Bill holding a gun on me while he talked to the authorities. On the witness stand, Max was as sad as I had ever seen him, and it upset me for him to think that I had any part in hurting Carlee. I wanted to call Max to explain, but Mr. Lee advised me not to contact him.
Mr. Stark used the damning text messages between Carlee's phone and my phone. They supported the theory that she left me, and that I became enraged when she told me in the text, "It's over." It was easy for the jury to believe that I was angry when I arrived at the Summers' home to take Carlee back with me. Mr. Stark also presented the note that Carlee left in my bedroom. For anyone already in a frame of mind to believe that I hurt Carlee, the note supported the idea that she was afraid to make me angry. Mr. Stark quipped, "Carlee apparently had good reason to be afraid."
I almost didn't recognize Marcy when Mr. Stark asked her to describe the time she met me years ago at Carlee's party. According to Marcy, I threatened to kill her for asking questions about my past. She distorted the truth about that incident and worse, she added what I hoped was a lie when she said that Carlee confided in her that I terrified her when I was angry. Marcy's testimony upset me as I thought back to my angry reaction to Carlee's comment about Ant and Tolley House. It was only one time and that one time didn't define our relationship.
Pointing to the car accident, which killed Ant and shattered my dreams to play college and pro football, Mr. Stark told the jury that I was a bitter young man, who was overly possessive of Carlee and determined not to lose all I had left. He suggested that keeping a rich girlfriend was my new plan for my future since I couldn't play football anymore.
No effort, whether legal or illegal, was spared in the prosecution's attempt to convict me. Someone did a good job of spreading the details of my juvenile record that the state was supposed to have expunged when I turned eighteen the prior December. Before the jury selection, all the jurors heard the information that was out all over the state. I had been treated for anger management issues. I had engaged in violent attacks against other children in foster homes and schools, and I had served time in juvenile prison for causing the death of an innocent five-year-old boy. When I was in juvie, I tried to eat another boy's face just because he asked if he could finish my lunch.
It didn't matter how many times Judge Folk told the jury to disregard anything they heard about my juvenile record. They heard it, formed an opinion, and it prejudiced everything they heard during the trial. Even, if at some point during the proceedings, they were considering the possibility that I never attempted to kidnap Carlee and was not to blame for her death, when their minds snapped back to the thought of me gleefully pushing an innocent little boy to his death, their hearts hardened to the task of punishing me.
With the jury considering what they thought was my past violent behavior and adding that image of me to the note and text messages, it sounded to them like Carlee had decided to leave her psycho boyfriend to seek safety with her father. The facts supported the prosecution's claim that I tried to take her against her will from her father's house. The jury could easily conclude that, although I did not intentionally hurt her, while committing the crime of kidnapping, I caused her death.
Mr. Stark argued that my defense was a desperate and despicable ploy to blame a grieving father for what I did to his child. He said I was a cold, heartless product of a state system that taught me how to lie and blame others for my misdeeds. He said I was good at manipulating people, but if I couldn't make people feel sorry for me to get what I wanted, I had no problem using violence.
Compared to the average felony case in Bergeron County, I had a speedy trial, and I believe that Bill Summers' influence was partially responsible. Only three and a half months after Carlee's death, the prosecution and the defense made their closing arguments on Thursday, December 16, 2005. It was past time for dinner when the jury heard the judge's final instructions and left the courtroom. Mr. Lee told me that the jurors would begin their deliberations the following morning. My nineteenth birthday was three days away on Sunday.
Uncle Manny, Papa, and Howie Spearman had sat in the first row behind the defense table that day. When the judge left the courtroom, Papa said that he had arranged for all of us to have dinner together in the private dining room of a local restaurant. Howie had to attend a sports banquet and couldn't join us, but he gave me a hug and said he would check in with us the following day.
During dinner, I asked Mr. Lee for his honest opinion. I wanted to know if he believed that the jury would return with a guilty verdict, because in my opinion, things looked bad for me. It was a question that he didn't want to answer, but he quietly agreed with me that the jury would most likely find me guilty.
Mr. Lee promised that if we lost, we would appeal, and Papa and Uncle Manny swore that they would never stop trying to prove my innocence. I told them when the jury came back with a guilty verdict, to let it go and not waste money on something that was never going to work. I kept wondering what it would take to make Papa and Uncle Manny understand that people like me were not supposed to get breaks. I was not going to have some dramatic moment like in a TV movie where some detective miraculously finds proof that will free me and send the real culprit to jail. I loved them for wanting to help me, but it was time that they faced the reality that I was going to prison again for something I didn't do.
***
After dinner, we took a quiet ride back to Deer Lake Farm, and I realized that if the jury worked quickly the next day, and the judge called us back to court that it might be the last time I rode home with Papa and Uncle Manny. After a guilty verdict, I would be taken into custody and held in the coun
ty jail until sentencing. I wondered if anyone would bring me a birthday cake on Sunday.
When Papa stopped his truck under the canopy where he always parked, I told them that I would clean up my room before bed so that they wouldn't have the job of tossing things that would be of no use to anyone. I told them that I would leave anything of value for Tyler and them. I knew the way Tyler was growing that it would not be long before he could wear my clothes, some of which were brand new from my last shopping trip with Carlee. I tried to be practical. I knew that my prison sentence would be lengthy, possibly for life, and I didn't see the point of saving anything for me. I also knew that when the deputies took me from the courtroom, there was no sense in me having anything with me but the clothes I was wearing.
Tyler and Lewis approached us in the driveway to see how the day in court went. I would not allow Tyler to attend my trial, and I certainly didn't want him there for the verdict. We couldn't say anything cheerful about the day's events, and I saw Tyler's eyes water the way they did every day when I came home. I told everyone that I had work to do in my room and started to walk in that direction.
Papa called me back, telling me that my room could wait. He then asked the others to give us some privacy while we discussed something in his office. I hoped that he was not planning some emotionally draining goodbye speech. Inside his office, he sat behind his desk, and I sat on one of the two chairs that angled towards Papa.
Papa was silent for a full minute. He leaned forwards in his chair, his large fingers propped on a black metal box that I had never seen before that night. It was about twelve inches long, six inches wide, and two inches deep. It had a combination lock, and I was more than curious about the contents. If he had given me a thousand guesses, none of them would have been correct. When Papa began his explanation, he only vaguely sounded like the man who was normally so predictable.
"River, I have lived my life trying to follow the rules. Rules of law and rules that my folks taught me about how a moral man should live his life. I have watched men like Bill Summers use money and power to ignore those rules while they trashed the lives of ordinary people.'
"I agree with Mr. Lee that the jury will take a day or two at most to reach a guilty verdict. We can appeal, but we have to find new evidence to get you a new trial. While I intend to do all I can to prove your innocence, I can do that whether you are in prison or not. What I'm going to suggest goes against some of what I taught you, but I can't watch you go to prison for something you didn't do. I can't live with knowing what could happen to you and that I could have saved you from it.'
"River, you have a decision to make, and you have to make it tonight. It's possible that the jury could reach a verdict tomorrow, and if it's the guilty verdict that we all fear, the judge will have you held pending sentencing, and your chance for freedom will be gone."
I couldn't stay quiet any longer. "Papa, you're telling me to run? How?"
Papa held up his hand to stop my questions. "Listen to me because the clock is ticking."
"Yes, sir." I leaned forward, arms on my knees, anxious to hear Papa's proposal that we both break the law.
"I have been making a plan for your future since shortly after I knew the case the prosecution would present. The plan is as foolproof as I, along with the help of a friend, can make it. When I took a break from court today, I made a call that set it all in motion. I took a guess that you would accept my offer.'
"When our time in the army was up, my best buddy chose another government job, and I came back home to the farm. He and I stayed in touch through the years, sharing news about our families and the events in our lives. I often told him about the farm, the fitness centers, and my involvement in the community. He shared what he could, but he was never at liberty to discuss his job since it was classified. He retired just recently, but the skills that he learned and the contacts that he made were still very useful in making my plan for you come together.'
"With his help, I have created an option for you as an alternative to prison. The important thing for you to understand is that we have done all the thinking for you, and if you decide to go this route, the only way it will work is for you to follow the plan without any deviation."
It was hard to believe what Papa was saying. I had thought of running, but I never seriously believed that I could get away with it, and I never thought of asking Papa for help. All I could envision was a short life on the run before the cops caught me and returned me to serve my prison sentence. Another reason that I had dismissed the idea was because Papa would lose the bail money if I failed to show up in court and that thought made me interrupt him.
"Papa, if I run, you lose a lot of money, and won't you be in trouble for helping me?"
"River, it will cost me money, but I've been wealthy for a long time. As far as trouble, I'll be covered. You only have to decide if you want prison or a chance at freedom and a decent life."
"Papa, if I was guilty, I would accept my punishment, but I don't want to go to prison again for something I didn't do."
"Then you must be willing to follow a plan that will take some sacrifice on your part. You have to understand that you will be giving up the life you have now."
"Just tell me what I need to do."
"In this black box, there is every document that you need to assume another identity. There is a social security card, driver's license, birth certificate, passport, and others you might need. Everything that needs your photo has one. All the documents are temporary because in the near future you will get a new set with a new photo in which your face looks just different enough to convince people that it's not River Blue. You will get your new photo and documents after some minor plastic surgery. You will give this box to my friend when you first see him, and you will unlock it together.'
"River, you will have to leave your life in Bergeron County behind you and that includes the people. You cannot return, and no matter how tempted you are, you cannot make any contact with anyone, including Manny, Tyler, and me. For your sake and ours, when you walk out of our lives, it's forever. I won't know who you are or where you are. I don't even know the name on the temporary papers in this box."
"But your friend will know?"
"Yes, he and only he, but he will never tell me anything. The only thing I will know is what I know now. I know my friend will help guide you to a new life and will make sure that you can survive on your own before he cuts contact with you."
I hung my head. I was sick at the thought of losing the last of the people I loved. I reasoned that even in prison, I could have visitors.
"River, you know where I had the land cleared last month near Deer Lake?"
"Yes, sir. Where you cut out the big circle. You still haven't told me what you're putting there, and it doesn't make sense. The trees around it are so thick that no one can see it from the lake or any other side."
Papa nodded. "I didn't want anyone to see it. All I wanted was a place big enough for a helicopter to set down behind the trees, so even if someone were spying on the property, they couldn't see you when you load into the chopper tonight."
"Tonight? When?"
Papa looked at his watch. "In four hours and fifteen minutes."
"So then what? Where am I going?"
"The pilot, who knows nothing about you and your situation, will take you to a private air field where another pilot will meet you when you set down. From there, the new pilot, who also knows nothing about you, will fly you in a private plane to meet my friend, who will introduce himself as Tom. From start to finish, it should take about three hours. When you meet Tom, you must do everything that he says without hesitation or argument. The first time you even hint at resisting his directions, he will leave you on your own. You have to realize that he is going through quite an effort for you, and I promise you that he will not accept anything but your complete obedience."
"This is just so much to take in. I have so many questions. Like where am I going to live, and what will I do
for money?"
"You will live with my friend in a safe, isolated area until you're ready to be on your own, and I have provided all of the funds you will need. I can't say much more. You just need to have faith that you will be fine as long as you do as Tom tells you."
"Papa, I trust you, and I can do what your friend says, but it's hard to think of losing you guys. What will Uncle Manny and Tyler think?"
"He doesn't know any specifics, but Manny won't be surprised to learn you're gone, and he'll understand. Tyler knows nothing, but he's a smart boy, and he will know you did what you had to do. They both want the best for you.'
"As for me, River, I love you too much to see you stay. It will be a hell of a lot easier for all of us to know that you're safe. I don't want us to visit you in prison every week until we see nothing left of the River we used to know."
"Thank you, Papa. I'll never forget you and what you've done for me."
Papa was close to breaking and so was I. He abruptly ended our meeting. "River, you need to say your goodnights and get a little sleep before we have to meet the chopper. Remember, nothing more than goodnight."
***
In our apartment, the intensity of my feelings showed as I fiercely hugged Uncle Manny and tried unsuccessfully to fight back my tears. We held each other for a long time, and he knew as well as I did that we were saying more than goodnight.
Instead of sleeping in his new bedroom in Papa's house, Tyler came out to the barn to stay with me on what he knew could be my last night. He said that he didn't want me to be alone, but I knew it was as much for him as it was for me.
Later, when I was dressed and ready to leave, I looked down at Tyler, who was sleeping soundly. His bed-hair stuck out blond and crazy, and he wore a slight smile that I imagined was caused by a cute girl who had begun taking riding lessons at the farm.
My Name Is River Blue Page 43