Love at First flight

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Love at First flight Page 25

by Marie Force


  Michael found it interesting that the defense attorney didn’t refute Rachelle’s videotaped testimony in her closing, which told him she too believed her clients probably had something to do with the arsenic attack. No doubt the defense attorneys had a few difficult moments of their own during this trial. She summed up her closing by saying, “They didn’t do it. You must acquit.”

  After she sat down, Judge Stein gave the jury their instructions. Before Michael knew it, the jurors were filing out to begin deliberations. The Borges, Sargant, and Domingos families were effusive in their praise of Michael’s closing.

  “Thank you, Michael, for bringing them to life again,” Mrs. Sargant whispered as she gripped his hand, her face pinched with grief and wet with tears. “Thank you for everything.”

  “I just hope it was enough.” Michael would have felt much more confident if Rachelle had been able to testify in person.

  “It’s in God’s hands now,” Mrs. Sargant said.

  As Officer John Tanner escorted Michael and George back to their office, Michael tried to remember what life had been like before he was accompanied by police officers everywhere he went.

  “That went really well,” George said. “I don’t think there’s anything else we could’ve done.”

  “I guess,” Michael said, thinking of Rachelle and how desperately he wished he had the whole thing to do over again.

  “Your closing was really good, Mr. Maguire,” Tanner said, surprising Michael.

  The young officer hadn’t had much to say since the rock went through Michael’s window on his watch. “Thank you.”

  When they arrived, Michael went into his office and closed the door. He hated waiting for juries. Usually, it was the most stressful part of any trial. Not this one, though. The whole thing had been stressful. He picked up the phone to call Juliana.

  “Hey,” he said. “What’re you up to?”

  “Having lunch between appointments. How’d it go in court?”

  “Good, I think.”

  “Did you use my line?”

  “Sure did. I ended with it, just like we practiced.”

  “I wish I could’ve been there to watch you.”

  He wished he’d thought to bring her. “Me, too. Next time, maybe? If there is a next time…”

  “I’d love that.”

  As he was thinking about how much he loved her, there was a knock on his door.

  “Hang on a sec, hon.” With his hand over the phone, he said, “Come in.”

  “They’re back,” George said.

  “Already? It hasn’t even been an hour.”

  George shrugged. “We’ve got thirty minutes to get there.”

  “Tell Tom.” Into the phone, Michael said, “I’ve got to go. The jury’s back.”

  Juliana gasped. “Are you worried it was too fast?”

  “That’s often good news for us, but you never know.”

  “Good luck, Michael. I love you.”

  “Love you, too. Turn on the news in about forty-five minutes.”

  “I will.”

  The jury filed into the courtroom half an hour later. Michael was encouraged when several of them glanced over at him as they were seated. In his experience, it was when they didn’t look at you that you needed to worry.

  After they were settled, Judge Stein asked, “Have you arrived at unanimous verdicts?”

  “Yes, your honor,” said the foreman, a tall, burly man who worked on the docks in the port of Baltimore. He handed the verdict paper to the bailiff who walked it over to the judge.

  Judge Stein read the verdicts, passed the paper back to the bailiff, and asked the defendants to rise. “In the matter of the People versus Marco and Steven Benedetti, murder of Jose Borges in the first degree, what say you?”

  Michael held his breath.

  “Guilty,” the foreman said.

  The gallery erupted.

  Judge Stein wrapped his gavel. “Order!” he bellowed. “There will be order in this courtroom!”

  When the only sound was the quiet weeping of the victims’ families, Judge Stein continued. “In the matter of the People versus Marco and Steven Benedetti, murder of Timothy Sargant in the first degree, what say you?”

  “Guilty,” the foreman said to more whimpering from the gallery.

  “In the matter of the People versus Marco and Steven Benedetti, murder of Mark Domingos in the first degree, what say you?”

  “Guilty,” the foreman said.

  Michael rested his head on his hands and fought the urge to weep.

  Guilty.

  Thank you, God.

  Pandemonium broke out all around him as the families of the victims rejoiced and the people sitting behind the Benedettis sobbed.

  It took Judge Stein several minutes to restore order. He thanked the jury for their sacrifice and hard work. “Sentencing is set for one month from today. We are adjourned.”

  Michael stood up to accept the congratulations of George Samuels, Tom Houlihan, the paralegals who worked with them, and the overjoyed families of the victims.

  He was talking to Mr. and Mrs. Borges when out of the corner of his eye he saw Marco Benedetti lunge for the gun belonging to the sheriff deputy who was attempting to cuff him.

  Michael screamed and everything shifted into slow motion.

  Before the other deputies could reach him, Marco waved the gun erratically and fired a wild shot.

  The people still in the courtroom dove for cover under chairs and tables. Michael, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to make his legs move. He watched, transfixed, as Marco grabbed one of the other deputies, held the gun to her head, and screamed for his brother to help him.

  Michael glanced over to find Steven locked in an epic struggle with another deputy. Steven prevailed, wrestled the gun from the deputy, and rushed to his brother’s side.

  Marco flashed a victorious grin at the people who remained in the courtroom before he shoved aside the woman he’d held hostage and zeroed in on Michael. “Fuck you, Maguire.” He aimed the gun at Michael.

  Too surprised to even move, Michael locked eyes with Marco, and for a brief, sickening moment he found out what goes through the mind of someone who’s about to die.

  Marco fired, and another shot rang out from behind Michael, who was suddenly flying through the air. He landed on the floor under John Tanner as one of the other deputies put a bullet between the eyes of Steven Benedetti.

  With that final shot, the case of the People vs. Marco and Steven Benedetti came to a bloody and deadly end.

  Juliana forced herself to stay busy at home while she waited for the local news to break into programming to announce the verdicts. When she couldn’t sit still any longer, she paced back and forth, praying they would be found guilty. While she wanted justice for the families of the three boys, she had her own reasons for wanting to keep the Benedettis in jail. She opened the front door to ask the cops if they’d heard anything.

  “Not yet. We’ll let you know as soon as we do.”

  “Thanks.”

  She went back inside and paced for another ten minutes before the local anchors came on with the news that verdicts had been reached in the Benedetti trial. They went live to their reporter on the scene.

  Juliana sat down on the sofa and clasped her hands together in prayer as anxiety and adrenaline coursed through her.

  “Just a minute ago, we received word that Marco and Steven Benedetti have been found guilty on all three counts of murder in the first degree. To repeat, the Benedettis are guilty.”

  Juliana screamed with joy and relief as she bolted to the front door in search of someone to celebrate with. She ran down the stairs and jumped into the arms of one of the two cops guarding her that day. Imagining how Michael must feel at this moment, tears slid down her cheeks. He had done it. He’d gotten them—for the families of the three boys, for Rachelle, and for everyone touched by their reign of terror.

  She was still talking to the police officers when th
eir radios began to crackle with the news of shots fired at the courthouse. “What’s going on?” she asked in a tiny voice.

  The cops listened intently to the back and forth, much of it in code that Juliana didn’t understand.

  “Please,” she begged. “Tell me what happened.”

  “It sounds like one of the Benedettis grabbed a gun and shot up the courtroom,” the younger of the two cops said.

  “Michael,” Juliana moaned, sinking to the cement stairs. “Oh, Michael.”

  As the younger cop went to the patrol car to find out more, the other one sat down next to her and took her hand. “We’re going to find out what happened just as fast as we can, okay?”

  She squeezed his hand and nodded, knowing all the cops who had guarded them in the last few weeks had become fond of her and Michael. They knew exactly what she needed to hear just then.

  Her heart raced as she absorbed the very real possibility that Michael could be dead. Promising anything God wished to ask for in return, she asked Him to protect Michael and bring him home to her.

  The waiting became unbearable, and she began to cry. The movie of her brief time with him ran through her mind over and over again. Resting her head on her arms, she was overcome with love and fear unlike anything she’d ever experienced, even when Escalada held a knife to her throat. Her worries for Michael’s safety were far greater than any she had ever felt for her own.

  Just when Juliana thought she would go mad if she didn’t hear something soon, a police car pulled onto the street. The back door opened, and Michael ran for her. Later, she wouldn’t recall the exact moment when it registered with her that it was him, and he was safe. All she remembered was running and crying and screaming his name.

  Right in the middle of Chester Street, he scooped her off her feet and into his arms.

  She rained kisses over his face before she found his lips.

  “It’s over, baby,” he whispered. “It’s really over.”

  “So then John fired from behind me and hit Marco right in the heart,” Michael recounted to Juliana. They were curled up together on the sofa after saying a tearful good-bye to the police officers who’d provided protection over the last two months.

  “Thank God he was there.” Juliana couldn’t seem to stop touching Michael—his face, his hair, his chest—as if to confirm he was really safe.

  “Yeah, he was unbelievable. He fired while he was in midair tackling me, and the shot was dead-on accurate. I don’t know how Marco missed us both. When I tried to thank John, he said, ‘I owed you one, Mr. Maguire.’”

  “It must’ve been so scary.”

  “It all happened so fast there was no time to be scared, but I’ll tell you what, in that one second when Marco fixated on me and I thought I was going to die, a lot of shit ran through my head.”

  She caressed his face. “Like what?”

  “I had just enough time to be really sad that I wouldn’t get to spend my life with you. And I thought about my poor parents who’ve already lost one son. That’s why I called them on the way home, before they heard it on the news. My mother was hysterical.”

  Juliana closed her eyes tight against the burn of tears. “I was so sure you were dead.”

  He pressed his lips to hers. “All I could think about was getting home to you. I left Tom to deal with the media and got the hell out of there.” He checked his watch. “They’re having a press conference in a few minutes.”

  She released him so he could turn on the TV.

  They listened to Police Chief Noonan recount the events that occurred in the courtroom. He announced for the first time that the Benedettis had been linked to the attempted murder-for-hire of the eyewitness and the police officers guarding her in the Annapolis hotel room. The chief answered a flurry of questions about the connection between the Benedettis and Escalada without naming Juliana.

  “Thank God it’s over,” she whispered.

  “Thank God they’re dead, and they can’t hurt you or anyone else.”

  Tom appeared next. “I want to thank everyone on my staff who worked so hard over the last year to secure the convictions of Marco and Steven Benedetti. In particular, the entire city of Baltimore owes a debt of gratitude to lead prosecutor Michael Maguire. Despite repeated threats to his safety and that of his loved ones, Mr. Maguire never wavered in his commitment to see justice served on behalf of the Borges, Domingos, and Sargant families. I think it’s safe to say the Benedettis are now facing a higher form of justice than anything we could’ve meted out here on earth.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Michael said. “I hope they rot in hell.”

  They listened to interviews with several jurors who expressed shock over the events in the courtroom, as well as what they finally learned about the arsenic attack.

  “I wondered why she didn’t testify in person,” the foreman said. “We had our suspicions that something happened to her, but we never could’ve imagined all of this.”

  “This means Rachelle’s family can go home again, right?” Juliana asked.

  “They’re on their way as we speak, and I heard today that Scott Brown is on the mend.”

  “That’s great news,” she said, overcome with relief to know that Rachelle would get back at least some of what she’d lost on that fateful night and that Officer Brown would recover from his injuries. “I don’t ever want to hear the name Benedetti again. Can we never, ever talk about them again?”

  “Fine by me.” Michael flipped off the television and turned to her. “I have a big idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Tom told me not to show my face in the office until next Monday, and you don’t have to be anywhere until Saturday. What do you say we get out of here for a few days?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Chapter 30

  Michael and Juliana spent three blissful nights at a resort in the Bahamas. The sunshine and relaxed atmosphere did wonders to restore their battered nerves, but they were subdued as they flew home late on Friday afternoon. Juliana was due to meet Jeremy in the morning, and Michael had decided to go to Jacksonville to finally deal with Paige and her alleged pregnancy.

  “I wish we could’ve stayed there forever,” he said after they landed in Baltimore.

  “I know. Me, too. But the sooner we take care of things with Jeremy and Paige, the sooner we can get on with our lives.”

  “I like the sound of that. Where do you want to get married?”

  “I don’t really care. I’ve never wanted a big wedding because of all the crap with my family, so whatever you want is fine with me.”

  “My mother and sisters would never forgive me if they weren’t there, so maybe we can do it in Rhode Island?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “I love you.” He kissed her left hand. “I can’t wait to get my ring on that finger where it belongs and put another one right on top of it.”

  Holding hands, they walked through the airport.

  “I’ll never be in this airport again that I won’t think of you and the night I met you here,” Juliana said.

  “What a long, strange trip it’s been since then, huh?”

  She grinned. “The craziest two months of my life, that’s for sure.”

  “For me, the craziest and the best.”

  “Same here.”

  After they dropped off their luggage at home, they went to Fell’s Point for pizza and beer at one of the waterfront restaurants.

  “It sure does feel good to be free of the cops, doesn’t it?” he asked.

  “And free of the fear. The cops were all so terrific, though. We got really lucky.”

  “They have a tough job. I have a whole new appreciation for them after spending so much time with them.”

  “I have a whole new appreciation for a lot of things after everything that’s happened,” she said. “Regular people don’t pay much attention to the criminal justice system until we need it, so I never had any idea how much danger people lik
e you and the cops put yourselves in on our behalf. It’s impressive and admirable.”

  “Thank you,” he said, touched by her insight. “Luckily, it’s not usually this dangerous.”

  “What are you going to do now that the trial’s over and Rachelle’s attackers are all dead? I know you’d like to go to Rhode Island to open your practice there.”

  He laced his fingers through hers. “And I know you have an obligation here to your mother, so we’ll be staying put for the time being. I’ll probably get a few offers because of the publicity the trial generated. We’ll see what happens.”

  “You’d really put your plans on hold for me?”

  “Of course I would. The Rhode Island thing was always a pipe dream anyway. It’ll still be there if someday ever comes.”

  “My mother could live for years yet,” she warned him.

  He squeezed her hand. “I hope she does.”

  When they got home, they unpacked from the Bahamas and repacked for the weekend away from each other.

  Juliana zipped her bag closed, sat next to him on the bed, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I wish we didn’t have to do this. I wish we could just run away together and never look back.”

  He put his arm around her. “It’s just a few more days, baby. We can get through a few more days to have forever together, can’t we?”

  “You’ve never had a moment’s doubt, have you?”

  “Not about my feelings for you. How you feel has given me a few worries.”

  “I’ll tell you how I feel: I love you, Michael. I admire you, I respect you, I adore you, I want you.”

  He sighed with contentment as he kissed her softly at first and then with growing passion when she responded with equal ardor. They rolled across the bed, pulling at clothes without breaking the kiss. His hands were everywhere, uncovering the soft skin he craved. He pushed aside the last of their clothes and entered her.

  She gasped and clutched him tight against her.

 

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