The Last Hope

by C. C. Jameson

  She then returned to grab the first box.

  Heavy.

  A minute later, the documents now transferred, Kate wished him a safe shift and headed home, stopping at a Dunkin’ Donuts on the way to pick up a large coffee and a box of donuts. This was going to be a long—and boring—evening, but the key to freeing Kenny could be in one of those boxes.

  Sugar and caffeine will help.

  On Tuesday, after finishing her shift, Kate ran a background check on Nosy Maude. Nothing came up.

  Nosy is all.

  Maude cared for her uncle, and, as Kate initially thought, she had no sort of criminal associations or previous history that would suggest she’d want to steal his DNA and frame him.

  Kate dug out her hand-written notes from her breast pocket. Last night, she’d highlighted a few people she needed to learn more about, so she ran additional searches and managed to eliminate a few more cases.

  On her way out, she saw Reynolds working the reception desk. The last time she’d seen him was when he’d let her in to see her uncle while Kenny was detained at the precinct. Reynolds made eye contact, so she nodded and wished him a good evening.

  “Hey, Murphy! How are things?” he called out to her.

  “Good, you?”

  “Well, working evenings, but someone’s got to do it, right? Why are you still here? Didn’t you finish a few hours ago?”

  “Just doing some research.”

  “Trying to help that old man you came to visit the other day?”

  “My uncle? Yeah.”

  “Well, good luck.”

  Kate headed out, feeling a smile drawing on her face.

  First Smitty, now Reynolds. It was odd to have people asking about her life, let alone remembering what was going on with her. Maybe “having friends” was a possibility in this district.

  Friends aren’t like husbands who can cheat on you and turn your life upside down in the process, right?

  Then again, there’s Luke. Once a great friend, now an asshole who forgot to mention he was seeing someone else.

  She had to forget about him.

  When she arrived home, Kate ordered some Chinese food and got started with the third box of archived papers. She was flipping through the second file folder when her phone buzzed. Caller ID read “Luke.” She ignored it once more.

  He’ll get the hint one day.

  She returned to the next file and found a videotape where the accused had been caught on camera, so he was obviously guilty. She crossed that one off of her list.

  By midnight, she’d learned more about seven other victims who could have been murdered for some sort of political or religious reason. For each victim, she Googled and printed everything she could on their extremist views, hoping to find a common thread, some mutual motive to all of them. But none of them appeared to be related. At least, not in an obvious way. The victims’ political views were different. She couldn’t have seen them voting for the same party, but she had to say that all of them were fairly extreme in their actions or choice of words from what she found on YouTube and various personal blogs.

  By 2:15 a.m., she’d gone through the last box and put the cover back on.

  She had narrowed down her list to thirty-two people. Kate hoped to find some connection to her uncle’s case. Some tiny detail that may have been overlooked, something that was comparable to his case that she could then use to model her argument off of in an effort to help exonerate Kenny.

  By 9:15 a.m. on Wednesday, she’d already caught her fifth speeder in a school zone. After issuing the man’s ticket, she returned to her parked patrol car and called George Hudson. She was surprised when the receptionist put her on hold and said he’d take her call in a minute.

  Lucky timing.

  “Hi, Miss Murphy! Good to hear from you. How are you doing?” his deep voice asked without a pause. “May I call you Kate?”

  “Sure. I’m good.” Kate was a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm. “And how are you?”

  “Fantastic, as usual. You caught me just at the right time. I’m heading to court in about ten minutes. Did you make any progress?”

  “Yes and no. I found some archived cases that could be comparable to Kenny’s situation. Similar in the sense that DNA was used to incriminate them, they pleaded not guilty, the accused wasn’t connected to the victim, and the victim had extreme political or religious views.”

  “Wow, that’s good. There might be a link. Would you be able to drop by the office today? You’re working day shifts, right?”

  “Not sure if I can swing by during work hours, but I could go after 4 p.m.”

  “Great, I should be back in my office around 4:30. If you could bring your results, that would be awesome.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll see you later.”

  Kate hung up and returned to her duties.

  At 4:35 p.m., she walked into George’s office with two copies of her results, which she’d transferred into an Excel spreadsheet so her notes would be more legible. Filing so many police reports over the years had made her a fast typist. Ten minutes after work was all it took for her to have that document ready and printed.

  “That’s great,” George said, glancing at the list of victims, names of the accused, dates, locations, DNA, and the other details she’d included. He leaned back in his chair, then grabbed a pencil and circled a few cases on the list.

  “A couple of these ring a bell,” he said. “Our office represented them, but I think they were incarcerated for life, unfortunately. I didn’t represent them personally, but I’m familiar with their cases.”

  “Do you think we could talk to them?” Kate asked.

  “The accused?”

  “Yeah, or do you think I would gain more from talking to their lawyers?”

  “Their lawyers would have already used all of the information they had to defend them. The accused wouldn’t offer any new information either, but tiny details that seemed irrelevant at the time could resurface if they were to recount their stories. One of those could help with Kenny’s case.” He flipped open a brown leather book that looked like a daily journal. “I’m fully booked with court dates until the end of next week, but let me touch base with their lawyers. I’m pretty sure their clients would be interested in exploring a possible way to prove their innocence.”

  “Sounds good. I can go by myself if you or the other lawyers can’t make it.”

  His eyes opened wider, seemingly surprised by Kate’s offer. “You’d be fine with that?”

  “Hey, I want to get Kenny out of this mess. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “If I recall correctly, they’re not incarcerated in Massachusetts. Would you be fine flying out-of-state to meet them?”

  Kate thought for a second. She didn’t have a lot of extra cash in her bank account. However, her credit cards had room for a flight or two. “Sure, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get days off. Could they request visits for me this weekend?”

  “They normally require forty-eight hours’ notice. Today’s Wednesday.” He looked up as if figuring out if the timing would work. “Maybe. We’ll see, I’ll have to talk to them tonight so they can put in the request before 8 a.m. tomorrow morning.”

  “Sounds good. Keep me posted,” Kate said, standing up and getting ready to leave.

  “I’ll call or leave you a voicemail if I can’t reach you.” George escorted her to the elevator and shook her hand. “Great work, Kate. I imagine you’ve spent a lot of hours reading case files to come up with this list.”

  “It’s not like there were many other leads.”

  “I hope we can get you a couple of visits that will help us come up with a credible story before next Friday.”

  “Next Friday? Why? Is this his court date?”

  “Yes. Not much time, but you’ve made great progress. I’m sure I’ll be able to incorporate some of this information into my existing defense. I’ll go through these cases, as well, to see if I can find something else.”


  “That would be good, thanks.”

  “Have a great evening, Kate. Do take some time to relax a little bit, okay? You’ve done good.”

  “I will. Have a great evening, too.”

  Kate smiled, hoping her research and upcoming prison visits could prove helpful in court next Friday.

  Chapter Twelve

  July 10, 2015

  Kate Murphy

  Kate’s Apartment, Boston

  Early Friday evening, George called Kate to report he had arranged two visits for her: one on Saturday afternoon at the Lewisburg Penitentiary in Pennsylvania and the other on Sunday afternoon at the Elkton Federal Correctional Institution in Ohio.

  “Because you’re not a lawyer or a relative, we had to twist the truth a little bit so they could let you visit the first one on Saturday. If anyone asks, you’re a former colleague of Mr. Forrester.”

  Kate listened to his tips and made notes of the dress code and documents she’d need to take with her before thanking George and hanging up.

  It didn’t sound like a fun weekend, but she could learn something new, something that could free Kenny. One step closer was all she could hope for right now.

  One tiny step closer.

  She dug out her computer to book flights and a rental car. She was busy entering her credit card information when the phone rang. Excited about what the upcoming weekend could reveal, she forgot to check caller ID before answering.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Katie. You’re a hard woman to get a hold of.”

  She recognized that voice.

  “Luko... Sorry, I’ve been busy.”

  “Listen, I know it was weird. I want to apologize for how I left things... how I left that evening.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know how things are. I’m an adult. You have other irons in the fire.”

  “Other irons in the fire?”

  “You know...” Kate said, not wanting to spell it out.

  “What? You mean other women?”

  Kate was annoyed at his question.

  He’s smart enough to know. Why is he doing this?

  “Whatever,” she said, raising her brow even though he couldn’t see her over the phone.

  “Katie. I’m not seeing anybody. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “I saw you last week with a brunette at Quincy Market. No point in lying to me. I’m a grown-up, I can take it.”

  “What? Quincy Market?”

  Kate couldn’t think of anything else she could say to clarify what she meant without feeling a deep pang in her chest.

  “Last time I went there, I was with my cousin Sharon,” Luke continued. “Her husband has cancer. She’d just found out and didn’t know what to do. She needed to talk to someone, so I met with her.”

  “Oh.” Kate felt like an idiot, a total jerk. Then, she remembered the phone conversation from that first night at the lab. “But... what about when we met. Didn’t you call some woman to make an excuse for being late for dinner or something?”

  “Katie. You’re busting my balls here. You’ve been ignoring me because you saw me sitting with someone and because of something you overheard me say on the freaking phone? What’s wrong with you? I told you, I’m not seeing anyone,” he spoke so loudly that Kate had to move her phone away from her ear.

  Had she heard him right the other day? She wasn’t so sure anymore.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve got trust issues,” she said. “Divorce has a way of messing with your head.”

  “That won’t work with me. I... I can’t do this. You need to sort out your shit, Kate. I can’t deal with this right now. Sorry.”

  A dial tone followed.

  Oh shit.

  Again, she’d pushed away someone she cared about. Her childhood friend, the one and only real buddy she ever had in her life, the one person who knew her before the incident. If she couldn’t believe him or count on him to tell her the truth, would she ever be able to do that with any man? Or anyone, for that matter?

  It wasn’t like she had any girlfriends to hang out with either.

  Yeah. I have trust issues indeed.

  She put her phone on the charger and headed to the kitchen to grab a beer... then another. Then another.

  A few hours later, her phone started ringing again, waking her up from a nap she didn’t know she was taking.

  “Where are you? We had a deal,” a man’s voice said.

  “What? Who is this?”

  “Smitty. I’m at the pizza place. Been here for thirty minutes already.”

  “Oh shit. Um... I must have fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.” Kate sat up on her love seat. “Give me ten.” Kate stood up and sat right down again. “Whoa... Dizzy.... How about take-out?”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Don’t ask. Probably a few too many, too quickly.”

  “We. Had. A. Deal,” Smitty said in a slow and quiet staccato. He then continued a little louder, no longer hiding his resentment. “I did my half. What’s your half going to be?”

  “I’m so sorry, Smitty. Why don’t you pick up your favorite pizza, then come over, and I’ll brew some fresh coffee for us. How does that sound?”

  “Sure. Now you’re talking. You want me to come over?” he said, his voice overly optimistic with the last two words.

  “That’s not what I mean. I don’t think I should drive right now, and I know we had a deal. So unless you have a better idea, I’m inviting you over as a friend, okay? No funny business.”

  “Whatever you say. Anchovies?”

  Kate couldn’t wrap her head around his ability to change emotions as suddenly as a weather vane could spin. “Sure, why not?”

  She gave him her address and walked into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face before starting the coffee machine.

  I’m so stupid. Way to go, Kate! Now Smitty will spread rumors that I’m an alcoholic. Shit…

  What the heck was I doing before Luke called?

  After racking her brain, she finally saw her wallet open next to her laptop, with the screensaver bouncing around.

  The flights! I have to book those now.

  Of course, her reservation had expired, but she only had herself—and her stupid lack of trust in others—to blame. She could no longer book the flights she wanted, but she nonetheless managed to find a flight from Boston to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, early Saturday morning and another flight from Pittsburgh to Boston on Sunday evening. She also reserved a one-way rental car from Avis in the Harrisburg Airport with a drop off at the Pittsburgh airport.

  She was putting her wallet back in her purse when the door buzzed.

  “Pizza delivery,” Smitty said over the intercom.

  “Come on up. Third floor, apartment B.”

  Kate headed to the bathroom, glanced at herself in the mirror, redid her ponytail, and then added a touch of lip gloss before returning to the living room to greet Smitty.

  A quick double knock preceded his entrance. He wore jeans with a beige suede sport coat and a navy blue silk shirt; his top two buttons were undone, exposing a large golden chain and a dense mat of chest hair. He looked good in a police uniform, but he cranked it up to handsome in his civilian clothes. Add a mustache to this guy, and he could seriously compete with a young Tom Selleck.

  Kate grabbed the pizza box from him. “Smells good!”

  “Hope you don’t mind, I grabbed a slice on the way here.”

  Kate shook her head and smiled. “That’s fine. Once again, I’m so sorry. I fell asleep.”

  Smitty shrugged, and they headed toward the kitchen.

  “Oh, before I forget,” Kate said, turning around to face him, “I’m done with the files.” Her head pointed to the boxes piled by the door. “I’ll help you bring them down to your car later.”

  She brought the pizza box to the kitchen and placed it on the island, and then grabbed a couple of plates and forks.

  “Nah, we don’t need those,” Smitty said, opening the box,
grabbing a piece, and folding it in two.

  Kate returned the plates to the cupboard and followed his lead when she realized there were already four pieces missing. She looked at Smitty, and he answered before she even asked.

  “I was starving.”

  Kate laughed as she grabbed a slice.

  “Delicious!” she exclaimed after the first bite.

  “Duh,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “That’s why I couldn’t stop after just one.”

  Once the pizza was gone, they switched to coffee and serious conversation.

  “So, were the archives useful?” he asked.

  “Yes, I guess. I’m going to meet a couple of convicts this weekend to follow up. I want to see if there’s a connection between them and my uncle.”

  “That’s good.” He tilted his head and raised his brows. “Is that why you drank a little too much?”

  “Actually, no. Not at all.”

  A minute elapsed before Smitty broke the silence. “I guess you’re not going to fill me in on that. I get it.”

  Kate could feel tears coming up just thinking about how stupid she’d been toward Luke.

  “Let’s just say I have trust issues. I got what I deserved.”

  “Ex-husband?” Smitty asked.

  “What? No.” Kate shook her head. “How do you know about him?”

  “People talk. Clancy’s my buddy. You may have come up in a conversation or two.”

  “What?” Kate didn’t know what to think of his comment.

  People are already spreading rumors about me in this new district?

  “Nothing bad,” Smitty said, shrugging. “He made sense of some stuff for me. You know we’re all broken in some way, right?”

  She glared at him. “Broken?”

  “You know what I mean. We all put on a show. Sometimes we’re so involved in maintaining our façade that we forget who we are deep down.”

  Kate was wondering if he was talking about her or making reference to his non-stop Italian-stallion, womanizer personality. No matter which he meant, she didn’t like where this was going. She could feel emotions bubbling just below the surface. She looked at her lap and took a deep breath to push down her imminent tears. No way she’d let him think she was an alcoholic and an emotional basket case.