An Imperfect Process (45 page)

She was still an imperfect, deeply unworthy Quaker. But she would no longer be an absent one.

* * *

In the back of Rob's mind a clock ticked away the hours of Daniel Monroe's life. Rob had experienced the same surreal horror when his brother's execution was approaching. Though Rob disagreed with the rough justice of an eye for an eye, at least he could understand it, and Jeff had committed terrible crimes. The death of an innocent man was infinitely more harrowing.

Needing a break from the case notes he was scrutinizing, he walked from the guest house and sat on the top step of the little porch. Malcolm joined him, so he draped an arm over the dog, receiving a moan of comfort in return.

He had spent the last long days digging ever deeper into the life of Omar Benson, hoping to find a definitive piece of evidence to clear Daniel. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

His gaze wandered over the unruly garden that would soon be his. Tomorrow these flowers would still be blooming, and a man who had become a friend would be dead.

He saw a movement from the comer of his eyes, and turned to see Val rounding the corner of the house. She was dressed in crisp professional mode and her expression was calm, but one look into her eyes and he knew what had happened.

Though her face showed the marks of tears, her voice was steady when she said, "I wanted to tell you the bad news in person."

"The petitions failed." He stood and moved toward her, Malcolm at his heels.

"The Supreme Court refused to grant cert. Only to be expected when the chief justice once said that actual innocence is not a constitutional argument. The state Court of Appeals has already agreed that it's essential for cases to achieve finality. After seventeen years of appeals and postconviction proceedings, the testimony of unreliable witnesses isn't enough to make a difference." Her voice broke. "I knew it was a long shot, but even so..."

He wrapped his arms around her shaking body, his emotions as bleak as hers. "We tried our damnedest, Val. It's the most anyone can do."

"'Nice try' isn't good enough! In a capital case, only winning counts." The tears she had been trying to control began spilling from her. She wiped at them angrily. "Dammit, I thought I was done with crying."

He handed her his handkerchief, which was wrinkled but clean. "This situation deserves tears. It deserves sackcloth and ashes and wailing to the heavens."

"I keep wondering if the Court of Appeals was affected negatively by all the publicity. Maybe they didn't want to seem influenced by media opinions."

"There's no way to know, and no point in speculating." He held her tight, glad he could do this if nothing else. Even if Val wouldn't marry him, they would always have the battlefield bond of having fought to save a man's life.

If only they had succeeded.

He steered her to the guest house steps and sat down, tucking her under his arm. When she had mastered her tears, she said, "I've been thinking about my relationship issues and found some clarity, but maybe today isn't the right time to talk about it."

"Give it a try," he suggested. "We could both use a distraction."

"I suppose you're right, but if I don't make any sense, hit your mental delete key." She sat up and made a futile push at her hair. "My omniscient friend Rachel suggested that my allergy to marriage might stem from having my father be such a small part of my life. I got used to the men in my life being limited. Sort of like growing up with an alcoholic, then meeting an attractive drunk and thinking "This feels so right! It must be destiny!' If that makes sense."

"It makes a lot of sense." He thought of his own mother, who mostly wasn't available. Mentally and often physically, she was somewhere else. That had to be an aspect of his own relationship issues. Speaking as much to himself as to Val, he continued, "Recurring patterns are hard to recognize, and even harder to change."

"The funny thing is that I can handle committed, long- term relationships with females. My closest friends date back to elementary school. My mother and I are pretty different, but we like and trust and understand each other. Friday, when Lyssie's grandmother collapsed and was hospitalized, I agreed to become Lyssie's guardian if Louise dies before Lyssie is of age."

"That's major, and good." He drew her closer, thinking this surprising announcement boded well for his prospects. "If ever a little girl deserved to be taken care of, it's Lyssie. How is her grandmother doing?"

"It looks like she'll pull through this time, but it's too soon to judge her long-term prospects. Whatever happens, Lyssie is now part of my family. I felt a pang or two of claustrophobia when Louise first asked me, but no real doubt that it was the right thing to do. It's only with men that my judgment collapses and I panic."

"You couldn't trust your father to be there for you, and that set the pattern of your relationships with men ever since. Not to mention that falling in love makes us terribly vulnerable." As he was where Val was concerned. "Safer never to fall all the way."

"Maybe that explains why one of the best relationships I've ever had with a man is with Kate Corsi's brother, who's gay," she said thoughtfully. "He was the big brother to all of us, and I would trust him with anything."

"Because he wasn't a threat, and even as a kid you sensed that." Rob frowned, trying to find words for an elusive concept. "If sex and love intertwined are dangerous, maybe your natural sensuality—in other words, sex—could only be expressed freely if you controlled the love end of the equation by avoiding it."

Her eyes narrowed with thought. "That's an interesting way to look at it. Makes me sound almost rational. Does that mean that if I fall in love, I'll have to give up sex?"

"I certainly hope not!"

She smiled at his vehemence. "The scary thing about you, Rob, is that you're offering unconditional love, and I just don't know how to get a handle on something with no edges or limit. My over-educated mind can say coolly that I have self-esteem issues, but somewhere deep inside a funny looking redheaded kid is shrieking 'Wrong!' and 'You don't deserve a great guy like this!'"

"Careful. If you're too flattering, I'm going to start suffering self-esteem issues myself," he warned, but hope sparked inside him. "We both have things we need to sort out, Val. The first and most critical step is to recognize that so we can get to work."

She lifted her gaze to his, her eyes transparently honest. "On the way over here I stopped at the Stony Run Meeting on the other side of Charles Street, and I think I have some new insights. It's still an open question if I can change in the ways I need to, but I really intend to try. Just... can you be patient?"

"I can be very patient when the rewards are so great." He smoothed back her hair as he studied her eyes. "You're going to need some patience with me as well. I know I'm in love with you, but that doesn't mean I know how to build a happy, lasting marriage. I've never seen one close up."

"Thinking about your childhood puts my problems in perspective," she said ruefully. "When you drew your line in the sand, you said I couldn't cross it until I was willing to seriously consider a long-term relationship. I'm serious now. Does that mean we can be a couple again?"

"It sure does." He kissed her, feeling levels of openness that were new. This is what he had wanted and been unable to find when they first came together. "I love you, Val. It may be a long journey to where you'll be comfortable with marriage, but at least we're finally on the same path."

She settled against him trustingly. "My friend Rachel said I should talk to you because you sounded like the listening sort. Rachel is always right."

He laughed. "I'm glad she is, because I'm not."

"Neither am I. That's why I hold onto my smart friends."

He stroked her arm. "I'm feeling this odd mixture of emotions. On the one hand, I would like to take you inside and make mad, passionate love as a symbol of reconciliation. And yet... it feels as if it would be wrong to be so happy and self-indulgent when Daniel is facing death."

"I feel the same. We can wait. We have time. Daniel doesn't." She sighed. "It's time for me to go down to the SuperMax and tell him the bad news. He won't blame me, but that won't make me feel any better."

"Let me do it. I had already decided to visit him if this turned out to be his... his last day. There's no point in you torturing yourself when I'll be talking to him anyhow."

She hesitated "You're tempting me, but it seems a dereliction of duty."

"You're going to be there in the morning to bear witness, aren't you?" When she nodded, tears glinting in her eyes again, he continued, "You can say your good-byes then. I'll be there, too. Will Kendra? Daniel asked me once to keep her away."

"She'll be there." Val closed her eyes in anguish.

"No one could have fought harder to save Daniel's life than Kendra has."

Val's full lips thinned into a narrow line. "She and I agree that Yoda was right. There is no try, only do or not do. And we couldn't do it."

"Yoda is a cute little lawn ornament even if he never did master the use of subjects in sentences, but in this he was wrong. Trying
matters
. Fighting the good fight matters, or what's the point of living?"

"Cal Murphy said much the same."

"Maybe it's a guy thing." He kissed her. "Go home or back to your office while I visit Daniel. I guess I'll see you at the penitentiary at what, seven a.m.?"

"That sounds right. I'll check with the prison people and let you know if another time is better." She patted Malcolm, then rose wearily to her feet. "Maybe we can drive down together, but for the rest of today and all night, I'm going to be hunting through my files for a miracle."

"Same here." Unfortunately, he didn't believe in miracles. "Maybe we should work together at your office tonight."

She regarded him for a moment, then nodded. "I doubt it will help Daniel, but for sure I'll feel better with you nearby."

And so would he. Maybe a fellow traveler would make a night without end a little easier to bear.

* * *

Daniel was able to read Rob's expression as easily as Rob had read Val's. He sat heavily in the chair on his side of the barrier and picked up the handset. "The courts played Pontius Pilate and washed their hands of me, right?"

"I'm afraid so." Rob relayed Val's brief summary of the courts' reasoning.

When he was done, Daniel sighed. "I said from the beginnin' that I didn't expect this to work. But you know, it's impossible not to have at least a little hope. I'm ready to die. I've been expectin' it for a long time. But I'd rather live."

The quiet words were a dagger in Rob's heart. "I'm so damned sorry that we've made this worse for you. Maybe the road to hell really is paved with good intentions."

"You didn't make things worse, Rob. It means a lot to me that two smart folks like you and Miss Val have worked so hard for a black man you didn't even know. And because of your investigation and Kendra's publicity, plenty of people have found out that I'm no murderer."

"None of them on the Court of Appeals," Rob said bitterly.

"Yeah, but even my family had doubts sometimes, I think. Not anymore. Best of all, because of your efforts I got a chance to see my baby all grown up." Daniel gave his rare smile. "Isn't Jason somethin'? Did you see that he called me his father in the paper? He's not ashamed of me, and that's more than I ever dreamed of. So thanks, Rob, and thank that pretty little redhead of yours."

On the verge of breaking down, Rob said, "You can thank her yourself. She'll be here with me in the morning."

"What about Kendra?"

"Val said she's coming. Maybe you can ask the warden to keep her out, but as Val once told me, our womenfolk are adults and capable of making their own decisions."

"God never made a finer woman than Kendra, and she's been with me every step of the way. I guess I don't have the right to keep her from the last one."

Glad about Daniel's decision, Rob said, "Lethal injection is a calm, painless death. Nothing ugly. Not like the gas chamber or the electric chair."

"A more peaceful death than most people get." Daniel shrugged. "Funny, I believed in the death penalty. I figured only really horrible criminals were executed."

If only that were true. "Are they treating you all right?"

"Oh, yeah. Not many executions here, and everyone is goin' out of his way to be nice. Real weird. For my last meal, I asked 'em to get food from my brother's restaurant. Luke will deliver it himself." He smiled faintly. "I always wanted to taste Angel's cookin'. I not only get that, but Luke will serve it to me in my cell. For the first time in seventeen years, I'll be able to touch someone I love. A pretty good last meal."

Rob could barely speak past the lump in his throat. "You're handling this way better than I am."

"We all die. Not many of us have as much time to prepare as I have." For a moment, a crack appeared in Daniel's composure. "I don't deserve this, but life isn't fair. I'm dyin' a better man than I was when I was arrested, and that's God's mercy."

Rob had been wrong earlier, he realized. Miracles happened, and Daniel was one of them.