Sidetracked-Kobo (17 page)

Devlon’s voice rose. “It is unconscionable that an innocent sixteen-year-old could go to jail for years because of the incompetence of law enforcement.”

He turned to the testimony of those who’d worked with Laura’s mom, all of which pointed to a perpetrator other than Laura. And he went over Laura’s own testimony.

As Laura listened, the dread in her chest began to ease. She’d heard all the defense arguments, sure, but never put together in such a perfect package. Forget what Cantor had claimed. When the judge looked at everything the defense was presenting, there was no way he could find her guilty. All the answers were there in front of him. Laid out. Stacked in order.

“Your honor, this entire case is such a travesty,” Devlon said in closing. “This young girl has already lost her mother. And now she’s lost six months of freedom. She needs to get on with her life. She needs to be reunited with her father and rebuild what family they have left.”

Laura’s heart plummeted again. They had no “family” left. Getting out of jail would just exchange one terrible problem for another.

By the time Devlon was done, Laura felt totally drained. She managed a small smile as he took his seat next to her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He patted her arm.

“All right, sounds like that’ll do it.” The judge shifted in his chair. “We’ll meet back here tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock. I will have my verdict at that time.”

He banged his gavel and rose to leave. And just like that the trial that would decide Laura’s fate was over.

The night her trial ended, Laura lay on her cot, staring at the ceiling as she had on so many nights. Would this be her last night here? She knew it would, even as misgivings whispered in her mind. She was petrified of being freed only to face carving out a new life by herself. But staying in jail would be so much worse. Plus, if she was found guilty she wouldn’t stay in juvey. She’d be shipped to California Youth Authority. A place ten times worse than here, she’d heard. Juvey was hard enough, with lots of inmates in for crimes like stealing from a store or possessing drugs. But CYA was all hard time. Full of murderers and gang members. People who’d just as soon knife you as look at you. Laura would never be safe in a place like that. She had no idea how to defend herself from that kind of people.

She’d rather die than go to CYA.

Please, God, please. You know I’m innocent. Let me go home!

The next morning Laura could do little but pace the length of her bed. Three steps down, turn around, three steps up. The hours until two o’clock would never pass. So many things ran through her mind. Over and over, she saw her mother’s bloody face, the broken body. Heard Cantor calling her a “cold-blooded murderer.” Saw her own father on the stand.

What was her dad thinking this morning? Did he even care?

Lunchtime came. Laura didn’t eat. As the hour approached for her to leave for court, her blood flowed cold, then hardened. When they let her out of her little room, she didn’t look back. She’d never have to lay eyes on the horrible four walls again. She walked out of juvey for the last time, feeling sun on her face.

Within a few hours she’d be home. In her own room. Tonight she’d sleep in her own bed. How incredible.

How terrifying.

In the car she couldn’t feel anything. Not even her own body. Her feet and ankles seemed miles away from the rest of her. She walked into the courtroom on someone else’s legs. Sat down at the table using someone else’s muscles. Devlon said a few words to her, but she couldn’t process them. Could only hear her own shallow breathing. The sputter of her heart.

Laura’s dad was there. And her aunt. Laura could feel them looking at her back.

It took forever to get everyone settled, including the judge. He called the court to order. Sat and shuffled a few papers. Laura slipped her hands beneath the table. Locked them in a tight grip.

The judge began to speak.

Devlon laid a hand on Laura’s shoulder.

The world slowed … slowed, until it nearly stopped turning. The whole scene felt surreal, like she hung near the ceiling, looking down at herself. Laura squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to the judge’s words, every muscle within her pulling,
waiting
for the “Not Guilty.”

“… I find the defendant, Laura Ann Denton, guilty of second degree murder …”

What?

Laura’s muscles locked. For a split second her mind went white.

Guilty?

No, couldn’t be. She’d heard wrong—

The judge’s voice singed her ears. “I will set sentencing for two weeks from today …”

Devlon gripped her shoulder until it hurt. Laura’s muscles unlocked, then turned to water. She started to tremble. First her legs, then torso, then whole body. She turned to her attorney, head shaking. Wanted to scream
Why? How?
But her throat wouldn’t make a sound.

Noises behind her. Someone weeping. The prosecutor stood, looking so proud of himself. Judge Myers left. Cantor started packing up his files.

Laura couldn’t get up.

A bailiff came to put cuffs on her. They’d take her back to juvey.
Back
.

“I can’t go!” She jerked away. “I didn’t
do
it!”

“Calm down.” Devlon’s voice.

Calm down!
For what? So they could drag her back to that little cell? The hard bed and stained walls? So they could throw her in
CYA?

Wails spurted from her mouth. “I didn’t
dooo it!”
Laura fell to her knees.

Hands reached for her. Many hands. People calling her name, lifting her up. Her ankles wobbled, and the world dimmed. She caught a fleeting glance of her father watching her, forehead crinkled and tears on his face. “Dad!” She flung out an arm toward him, but someone caught it, pinned it. She felt the cuffs, and the world dimmed more, and her head tipped back, the room spinning …

S p i n n i n g …

rocks in her stomach and chest, breath blocked in her throat and people yelling and her knees giving way and the courtroom going black, blacker, until she saw noth—

April 2013

“Del!” Colleen called from our gathering room. “They’re running the news story next!”

“Okay!” Quickly I put the finishing touches on my makeup and inspected myself in a full length mirror. I’d put on a blue cashmere sweater and black skinny pants and heels for dinner with Andy. Had only half managed to chase the stress and lack of sleep from my face. It would have to do.

I hurried from my bathroom. Pete, Colleen, and Nicole were still sitting where I’d left them fifteen minutes ago. I resumed my own seat, feeling my heart flutter. Once this news story hit the airwaves, what would happen to me? What would Chief Melcher do?

Commercials ended. The news returned.

“Here it is!” Nicole leaned forward.

An anchor woman led into the story of a “heinous murder in Redbud of a young woman driving home from her wedding shower.” From there the scene switched to the reporter I’d spoken with, Barlow Watkins, standing in front of the yellow crime scene tape on Brewer. He told of Clara’s strangulation and the arrest of Billy King, a man who “reportedly had a crush on Miss Crenshaw.” According to Redbud Police Chief Bruce Melcher, King was spotted near the scene of the crime by two people around the time of the murder.

Two?
Anger rose within me. Melcher had to mean Becky and
me
.

“But one of the eyewitnesses strongly disagrees with Chief Melcher. Delanie Miller, who discovered Miss Crenshaw’s body, insists the person she saw in the shadows wasn’t tall enough to be Billy King. According to Miss Miller, Chief Melcher isn’t interested in what she has to say.”

Nicole’s eyes widened. “Uh-oh.”

The picture switched to my face. I looked haggard yet defiant, the blaze of injustice in my eyes. The sight sent a shockwave through me. How many times I’d seen myself like that in mirrors during the days of my own trial. During all the years following.

I watched, muscles tense, as the reporter asked me more about Chief Melcher. And my response: “Chief Melcher came to my house and told me flat out if I interfered anymore in his investigation he would ‘haul me off to jail.’”

Colleen and Nicole gasped. Pete turned to me, his mouth drawn inward.
Oh, boy
, he mouthed.

The story wrapped up in another half a minute. I barely heard. My ears rang with my own words.

The picture switched back to the news anchor and another story. How life moves on.

Colleen grabbed the remote and muted the sound.

For a moment none of us said a word.

Nicole pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Is he gonna put you in jail?”

I shrugged—
who knows?

“Nah.” Pete sat back and folded his arms. “As much as you got him riled up, Del-Belle, in a way you’ve protected yourself. How can he make any move against you now, with the media lookin’ on, and all the town knowin’ how he treated you?”

“Yeah, Pete’s right.” Colleen sounded almost as defiant as I had. “Now old Melcher’s stuck by his own words.”

I ran a sweaty palm over my pants. “I don’t know. If people in town really believe Billy did this, they
will
look at me as interfering with justice. And they’ll support Melcher.”

Nicole made a face. “Melcher’s not very popular in this town anyway. People like you way more. I’ll bet they’ll side with you.”

I gave her a crooked smile. Kind words. But Clara was dead, and somebody needed to pay. That changed the balance.

The doorbell rang.
Andy
.

I rose, apprehension swirling in my veins. What would he say about what I’d done?

“Hi, Beautiful.” Andy wore a dark blue sport coat and silk multicolored tie. He stepped inside and hugged me for an extra long moment. When he drew back, he studied me with a warm smile. “You look terrific.”

My heart lurched. To the very core of me, I loved this man. If only he could have been beside me during this terrible day. Andy could make anything better. “Thank you.”

He glanced at the faces of my roommates, the muted news on TV. “Something about Clara?”

“Yeah.” Nicole gave me a meaningful look. “Delanie was on, too.”

Andy raised his eyebrows. “You were interviewed?”

Thanks, Nicole
. “I’ll tell you about it in the car.”

We said our goodbyes and headed outside. I was silent as we pulled away from the curb. The more I thought about what I’d done, the more frightened I felt. Something would come of this. Something bad.

“So what happened with your interview?” Andy asked as we hit the edge of town. He shot me a sideways smile, but it faded quickly. Maybe he didn’t approve of my talking to the reporter.

My hands pressed together. I had yet to tell Andy how Melcher had threatened me with jail that morning, and the chief’s final remark about my “rich boyfriend not being able to help.”

It struck me then for the thousandth time—how much I kept from Andy. I’d grown so used to guarding the secrets of my past, I didn’t know how to share my present.

“First I need to back up and let you know what happened this morning.” Staring through the windshield, I told him about Melcher’s visit. What he’d said. How Pete had heard it all.

Andy’s jaw set. “He really said that to you?” A rhetorical question. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

I shivered. The evening wasn’t cold, but my body could not shake its chill. “I had so many people to see, and …”

“But I called you hours ago. Didn’t you think I’d want to know?”

I turned my head and focused out my window. “I knew we’d see each other tonight, when we could really talk.”

Silence.

“Okay.” Andy lifted a hand from the steering wheel. His tone did not match the word. “So what happened on the news?”

I told him.

A little smile crept over Andy’s face. Hadn’t expected that. “Well, sounds like you gave it right back to him.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Why should I be mad at
you
? I’m furious at Melcher for what he said. He deserves this. Now everyone knows what a jerk he is.”

“Oh.” I took a long breath. “A minute ago you seemed …”

Andy shook his head. “I just don’t like it when you don’t tell me things.”

I shifted in my seat.

“Pete says Chief Melcher won’t be able to ‘haul me off to jail’ now. Because people will be watching him after the newscast.”

“Pete’s right.” Andy fell silent again. After a moment he cleared his throat. “Something I need to say, though, Del. Even though I’ve been at work all day, I’ve been hearing things through phone calls. The evidence—other than what you saw—all points to Billy. I know you think he didn’t do this. At first I thought the same. But you can’t let your emotion cloud the facts.”

I stiffened. “It’s not just emotion. I know what I saw.”

“You saw a shadow of a figure. Didn’t even see his face, right? Becky Myers saw Billy up close. Yet he denies he was there and has no alibi. It just doesn’t look good.”

First Nicole, now Andy. If
they
wouldn’t listen to me, who would? I folded my arms and stared out the windshield. “He
didn’t
do it.”

“Okay.” Andy held up a hand. “But what if he did? And meanwhile you go around defending him? People will remember that.”

The faces of Phyllis and Doug Bradshaw flashed in my mind. What were they thinking? They didn’t approve of their son dating me in the first place. “Is this about your parents?”

Andy threw me a glance. “Why are you bringing them up?”

“Because they don’t like me.” And when his mother saw the news, she’d probably have apoplexy. The Bradshaws and anyone linked to them simply did not make spectacles of themselves on television.

“They like you just fine.”

“No, they don’t.” Impatience laced my voice.

“Del. We are not talking about my parents.”