Darkness Before Dawn

by Ace Collins

  Jasper Tidwell rose from his chair and stood behind his table. He exhibited little of the confidence he’d displayed earlier. Far from employing his normal dramatic flair, he glanced up at the bench and quietly said, “Sir, I do not believe that the prosecution has proven its case beyond a shadow of a doubt. I believe that the law enforcement agencies not only bungled their investigation but that there was a rush to judgment against my client simply because of his youth. The police failed to check the blood alcohol level of Steven Richards. That in itself shows a rush to judge. I also would like to point out that in my view nothing presented by the prosecution has conclusively proven who was at fault. Further, the thin evidence the state presented has been successfully challenged by testimony and reports supplied by the defense.”

  He looked back at his notes before picking up again. “Still, there has been a significant loss here. A woman has lost her husband in an unfortunate accident. This accident might just as easily have been caused by his impaired judgment, but we will never know. Still, at the urging of my client, his family has shown their incredible compassion by endowing a scholarship in the name of Steven Richards at our own university. That is how forgiving the Thomas family is.”

  Tidwell pulled his handkerchief out to wipe his brow and added, “If there is even the faintest doubt as to who was at fault, then there can’t be a guilty verdict and this is nothing more than a tragic accident. Your Honor, James Thomas is guilty of nothing but attempting to avoid that accident. His very conduct through his entire life has been much like any other youth in our community. His fiber is that of a young man who will become the best we have to offer. You cannot find him guilty with the proof of innocence so heavily in his favor. Once more, and I can’t emphasize this enough, the evidence against him is flimsy at best. If anyone is guilty, it is the hungry prosecution that so needlessly wasted your time and the county’s money.

  “So, toss this case out the door, and then I suggest that you take a long look at the manner and the reasons the grand jury and district attorney’s office use in deciding who is persecuted,” smiling, Tidwell paused a moment, “I mean prosecuted in the county. Thank you.”

  With that, the grand old man wiped his brow in dramatic fashion and sat down.

  The judge shook his head, “Jasper that is the shortest summation I’ve ever heard you present.” Looking back to the rest of the court, Truett continued, “Ladies and gentlemen, this court is now adjourned until such time as I have studied the testimony and feel ready to render a verdict. I suggest that you stay close so that an officer of this court can advise you when I have reached a decision. I can guarantee this case will be decided by no later than early this evening.” With no further words, he got up and departed for his chambers.

  46

  TWO HOURS IS BARELY ANY TIME IN THE SPAN OF A LIFE OR EVEN A WEEK. But when waiting for a verdict, two hours is an eternity.

  During the time that had already passed, Meg had thrown up twice, downed three Cokes, paced the hall outside the courtroom, and spent countless minutes replaying in her mind both the trial and the events of the last two months. During these long minutes, every person who came out of the courtroom raised her hopes, but each time when that person had proven not to be a court officer, she had seen her hopes dashed.

  Now as she sat at the conference table in the district attorney’s office, Meg felt as if the world had stopped moving. Speaking to no one in particular, she asked, “How long is it going to take?

  “As long as it takes,” was the only reply Cheryl could muster.

  “Don’t worry, Darling,” Barbara said in her best Sunday school teacher, comfort tone. “It’ll all work out for the best.”

  Meg glared at her mother. She was supposed to be here to support Meg and that meant leaving her pious attitude at home! That eternal faith of hers! Why couldn’t she just pitch the positive sentiment and get mad once in a while? Didn’t she ever get frustrated? Didn’t she ever realize that things don’t always work out for the best? Was there ever a point that she felt was worth fighting, really fighting for, or did she always accept everything as God’s will?

  As the two hours became three, Meg was questioning more and more if justice would really be served. The testimony Tidwell had presented seemed so transparent to her, but maybe the judge had not seen through it. After all, he hadn’t seen firsthand just what kind of person Jim Thomas was. He hadn’t been publicly humiliated by Thomas like she had at the cleaners. He hadn’t observed the way the teen really viewed the world and life. So maybe the judge could be fooled by what Tidwell had done!

  And what about Steve? Did Judge Truett really believe the horrible, unreal picture that Tidwell attempted to paint? If he did, would he blame Steve for what happened? This was a nightmare, one that apparently wasn’t going to end. As the time dragged on, she rued more and more not taking the money.

  Meg glanced over to Cheryl. “Is his taking this much time to reach a verdict working against us?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “In most cases like this, we are waiting on a jury. A judge is different. Each works at his own pace. Old Jasper is hanging this whole case on the fact the police did not test Steve’s blood. That might convince one person on a twelve-person jury, but I just can’t see that working with a judge deciding this case. But you never know, after all, sometimes it rains even in West Texas.”

  The assistant district attorney had no more than finished her analogy when there was a knock at the door. A few seconds later a young man stepped into the room and announced, “Ms. Bednarz, the judge will call the court to order and render his judgment in five minutes. I suggest you come back into the courtroom now.”

  “Finally,” Meg breathed. But what almost kept her in her seat was the question of whether this was going to be good news. Was this the ruling she wanted to hear?

  As Meg, her mother, and Cheryl took their places, Tidwell and the Thomas family filed into the room from a side door. Over the course of the next three minutes, the spectators and press filled the remainder of the seats. When the judge entered the room, the milling throng grew silent.

  Meg’s heart jumped into her throat as the stoic bailiff stood and announced, “This court, the Honorable Judge Scott Truett presiding, is once again in session.”

  As the judge sat down, he looked over the packed courtroom as if taking inventory of those he knew and those that were strangers to him. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he began to speak. His voice was strong and his tone deadly serious.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. The case that I have studied over the past few hours is not one to take lightly. There are lessons to be learned from what transpired in both the courtroom this week and on the highway not that long ago. I hope that those lessons will not be overlooked by the press or by those members of the public who have viewed these proceedings.

  “I would like to ask that when the judgment is read, those present refrain from any outbursts of any kind. And I will enforce that request if it becomes necessary.”

  Picking his glasses up from his bench, the judge looked at the defense table. “Will the defendant please rise?”

  Slipping his glasses on, the judge began. “Mr. James Thomas, it is the judgment of this court after hearing the case presented against you that you are . . .”

  Meg crossed her fingers as the judge paused, her vision focused on Thomas. As his fate hung in the air, he swallowed hard. He must have never expected it to get this far. He must have thought his father could have had the case tossed out. Now the next words could ruin his entire life. At this, the most important moment of his life, he looked incredibly pale, sweat lined his brow, and his hands tensed and relaxed at regular intervals.

  Meg’s eyes darted from Thomas to the other side of the room. Cheryl Bednarz projected an air of cool professionalism. Yet she had to be churning on the inside. After all, she had never wanted to win so badly.

  The judge, reading from a piece of paper he held in his right hand, con
tinued, “The court finds the defendant guilty of one count of operating a motor vehicle while under the influence of alcohol.”

  Tidwell had already failed once. Meg sighed deeply as she waited for the judge to go on.

  “The court finds the defendant guilty of one count of endangerment and reckless driving.”

  Meg clenched her fist as she waited for the judge to rule on the big one.

  “And the court finds the defendant, James Thomas, guilty of one count of vehicular homicide.”

  Thomas’s jaw grew slack. He would have collapsed into his chair except for the support of Jasper Tidwell’s arm. Thomas’s father and mother looked completely stunned as they sat in the row directly behind their son. It was a slam dunk for Cheryl, yet her face remained blank as a sheet of unused copy paper. Somehow, she was holding her emotions in check.

  “This court,” Judge Truett continued, “will meet for the sentencing phase of this trial tomorrow at ten o’clock. The defendant will remain free on bail until that time.” Glancing around the room once more, the judge struck his gavel and quickly disappeared into his chambers.

  Turning, Cheryl finally flashed a smile as she reached across the railing to embrace Meg. “We did it, kid; we did it, kid; we did it, kid. You should sleep well tonight!”

  A rush of different emotions hit Meg like a blast of winter wind. She didn’t know quite how to react. She was more numb than happy and she suddenly felt very tired. The one thing she didn’t feel was real joy or satisfaction. Even though she couldn’t explain it, this victory seemed hollow. She now fully realized that winning in court was not going to bring Steve back.

  As Meg turned to leave the courtroom, another familiar face greeted her.

  “Mrs. Richards, this is Robyn Chapman, Channel 10 News. We are live. Do you have any comment on this verdict?”

  “A-a-a,” Meg stuttered. Then, forgetting about sounding prepared or intellectual, she simply stated what she felt. “He was guilty of killing my husband. He deserved worse, far worse, but we’ll take what we can get. It won’t bring Steve back, but maybe it will be the start of putting Thomas in hell.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Richards.” The reporter probably hadn’t expected those last words or that kind of reaction. Still, she was a pro and didn’t let what she hadn’t expected throw her. Glancing around the hall, Chapman found Cheryl and immediately signaled the cameraman to follow her. Heading off the assistant district attorney, she inquired, “Ms. Bednarz, what will you go after in the punishment phase?”

  “The max!” Cheryl shouted over her shoulder as she walked off. “We’ll ask for as much as we can get.” Grabbing Meg by the hand, she dragged her down the hall and away from the media. “Well, Meg, why don’t we go get something to eat? I’ll buy.”

  “No, Cheryl, I’ll buy,” Meg answered. “You deserve to be treated for the job you did. After all, you got him for me.”

  Cheryl nodded in agreement. “Not just for you. I got Jim Thomas to win a decadelong war. I can finally close the door on the greatest loss of my life, too!

  47

  DINNER WAS MUCH MORE THAN JUST A MEAL. IT WAS A VICTORY CELE-bration. Those who joined them, Barbara Hankins and Kent Reynolds, the current man in Cheryl’s life, and three more employees from the courthouse, were all pleased the case had gone in the state’s favor. But none of these people knew or felt the real triumph that Cheryl and Meg jointly embraced.

  For Cheryl, it was an almost decadelong dream come true. She had beaten all the arguments of the best defense attorney in the state and won an alcohol verdict outright and in full measure. She felt as if her father was with her—smiling, laughing, and reliving each moment of the case. While she knew she would continue to press for convictions in cases like this for as long as she practiced, she had already exorcised a demon that had been driving her for years. With this case, a certain phase of her life had ended and she was ready to go on to the next knowing a certain kind of peace and with a need to expand her life beyond her present work. And, as it was likely the Thomas family would put pressure on Webb Jones to can her, her days in Springfield were surely numbered.

  Meg was experiencing a different kind of pleasure. For her, winning meant being able to put aside her fantasies of gaining a measure of revenge. The guilty Jim Thomas, with his pale face and slackened jaw, was the picture she wanted to see. While she felt no sadness or remorse for what she was sure the courts would do to him, his image no longer controlled her every thought and action. With that demon exercised she could actually enjoy these moments with friends. And for the first time in months she could laugh.

  Still, even this great joy, realized by rehashing each detail of the case, was not as sweet as Meg thought it would be. In victory, she was still a woman who was defined almost entirely not by what she had but by what had been lost. And the hate that had ruled her daily life for so long likely couldn’t be sustained much longer. But she also couldn’t imagine a time when warmth and love would come back into her heart either.

  After the party broke up, she left the restaurant and slipped into her car. When she placed the key into the ignition, she noticed again the wedding ring she still wore on her left hand. In the dim light of a street lamp, she studied it, touched it, and then, for the first time in over five years, slipped it off.

  The reason for the celebration was also the reason she was so alone. That solitary thought hit her like nothing ever before had. It was like a lead weight had just fallen onto her stomach. And all through her body the repercussions could still be felt, especially when she thought about the child she was carrying—a fatherless child!

  It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It was supposed to feel good, satisfying, not cold and unemotional. So, in victory, the senselessness of what had happened was now a bigger factor in her life than the actual ruling. Even though Jim Thomas had been named officially responsible, this didn’t change the fact that Meg was still the one suffering the greatest loss. So while she had what she wanted, she didn’t have what she needed.

  Meg hadn’t cried in a long time. She’d reined in most of those emotions just after viewing Steve’s body. For weeks, rage and anger had controlled her to the point where she wouldn’t or couldn’t feel anything else. Now, with the guilty verdict, she discovered that the hate and rage couldn’t totally sustain her anymore. Meg, now maybe for the first time, felt the real pangs of a person living without love.

  So as she drove out of the parking lot she didn’t turn left toward home but rather right toward the hospital. She couldn’t face an empty apartment. She had to have someone to talk to—someone to tell just how much she missed and needed Steve. She needed to be with a friend who could explain why she wasn’t as happy and why she felt more alone than she ever had. There was only one person she knew who might be able to do that.

  The mournful pain that had appeared as she left the victory party didn’t subside as she got closer and closer to the hospital. If anything, it grew worse. The tears were now coming in torrents and she was having problems seeing clearly enough to even find the turn into the parking lot. Swinging into the first empty parking spot, she let the car idle for a moment. She didn’t want anyone to see her this way. And because of that pride, she couldn’t allow anyone to know how lost she was. Thus, she almost backed out of her space, getting as far as putting the shifter into reverse. Yet, when she couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, she pushed the transmission into park, reached up, and switched the key to the off position. Then, finding a handkerchief, she began to cry again. And for the next half hour, she cried months’ worth of tears.

  When she finally was able to gain some control of her emotions, she flipped on the interior light of the car and repositioned her rearview mirror to take stock of herself. Grabbing a tissue, she wiped the makeup runs from her face and dabbed a bit more in its place. Still, even after the makeup had been vigilantly applied and the hair combed, she looked far from perfect. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face noticeably swollen. Turning off
the light, knowing that she had done her best, she got out of the car and walked the fifty feet to the employee entrance.

  The night air, the moonlight, and the stars, all so romantic in nature, only served to make Meg feel that much more alone. And it was this sense of loneliness that pushed her across the parking lot. A light breeze blew her hair around her face and her maternity dress to hug her now slightly rounding midriff. Pausing just before she entered the building, she took a deep breath, forced a smile, and then, satisfied she was fully composed, shoved the door open.

  “Meg!” There was genuine excitement in Jan’s voice. “Congratulations! Heather called a few minutes ago and told us that you won.”

  “Thanks,” Meg answered, wondering all the while if Jan noticed the shaking in her voice. “We won. Of course, they still have to sentence him. It’ll be tomorrow before we know just how much we won.”

  “Listen,” Jan’s voice was now a decibel softer and more sympathetic, “I’m sorry if I lost my patience with you during this whole thing. I understand why you’ve been on edge. If I’ve been short with you or anything, well . . .”

  Waving her hand, Meg forced a smile. “You haven’t said or done anything you shouldn’t have done or said. Besides, I’ve been pretty weird.” Glancing around, she continued, “Where’s Molli? I thought she had the shift tonight.”

  “She did,” Jan replied, “but she got Karry to switch off with her. It seems that Paul called . . .”

  “Paul Mason?” Meg was a little confused.

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought that he was going out with Heather?”

  “I guess he thought he would like to go out with Molli again, too,” Jan answered. “It’s not like he and Heather were engaged. Anyway, he asked her out and she accepted.”

  “I wonder if Heather knows,” Meg asked.