by Lizzy Ford
“In the era of smartphones and kids, no one needed to. I subpoenaed the phones of multiple teens who attended the parties where the attacks happened. Of course, during all of those parties, Robert Connor had an airtight alibi. What Detective Wilson discovered, however, was video footage and photographs placing both Robert and Madison at the scenes of four of the eight attacks.”
Four? So Keith was either lying or lied to by Robert. I sit at the edge of my seat, barely daring to believe something is going right.
“It’s not enough to put them in jail,” Chris explains. “But it, and Madison’s confession on your security system, were enough for Madison to roll on Robert.”
“You found Madison?”
“We did,” Tenet replies. “Madison gave us Robert Connor. We had enough to compel a DNA sample from Robert, which matched the DNA found in three of the rape kits. The other victims didn’t come forward or did so too long after the incident for there to be any DNA preserved.”
I’m holding my breath, eager to hear more.
“Also not enough to put them in jail. All this is circumstantial. There’s no video of them committing the crimes and only one victim who remembers,” Chris adds. “The mounting circumstantial evidence, though, and the potential for more to surface, scared the Connors. It didn’t help that Robert had several accusations lodged against him in college. Keith Connor won’t win the presidential ticket for his party if his son is on trial for raping women.”
“Then there’s the phone,” Tenet says.
“What phone?” I ask, thoughts on the picture on the phone we gave them when I made my official statement. “Ari’s?”
“That will help. But I’m talking Tanya Dearing’s phone. She might’ve tried to call for help and appears to have ended up taking several pictures in her attempt to unlock the phone. Her mother came forward a few days ago. We had to wait and verify the metadata on the pictures to ensure they were taken that night. The pictures are blurry, but there are enough of them for us to make out Madison and Robert and some signs of what was happening.”
My heart all but stops. Tanya had the key all along. She’ll never know she can be the one to change the course of the case.
“The Connors want a plea deal,” the DA says. “Robert pleads no-contest and is given three years in a swanky white-collar prison then ten years of probation. We promised Madison twenty-five years to life, no death penalty, in exchange for his testimony.”
“Three years,” I repeat, frowning. “You told them no.”
“I did,” the DA confirms. “I offered him the same deal Madison got.”
My heart is pounding. “What did they say?”
“They haven’t responded yet,” the DA replies.
I look at Chris, trying to read his expression.
“They’ll take it,” Chris says with his quiet confidence. “Keith Connor is too smart and ambitious to allow his son to sink his career. He’ll sell out Robert, claim he never knew what was going on, distance himself, and then play up how he’s made an example of his son and won’t tolerate crime against women.”
“That’ll work?” I ask.
“He won’t make the presidential ticket this time, but he won’t sink his career either,” Tenet replies.
I shake my head. I hate this political shit.
“In any case, I’m pulling your protective detail, now that Madison is in custody,” he says. “Not that it matters when you have your own team of bodyguards.”
“I understand.”
“What are your thoughts on what I’ve told you?” the DA asks.
My mind is elsewhere, on what it means if Robert takes the deal the DA is offering. It means I won’t go to court. I don’t know what to think of that. I don’t want to see him again, ever, let alone in a courtroom. I also hoped to be there the day he’s found guilty after a grueling trial where he’s dragged publically through the mud, like I’ve been.
There’s a part of me that wants him to suffer and another part of me that just wants everything to be over.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I mean, they both need to rot in jail.”
“Justice means different things to different people,” Chris says. “Everyone needs a different kind of closure.”
“I think … I don’t want to go to court,” I say slowly. “I’ve never wanted to but I’ve just accepted it as the path I need to take. I’ve done enough, haven’t I? For Tanya, me and the other girls? If he’s in jail, is it enough? Or should I go to court and do more?”
“It’s more than enough, Mia,” Chris replies. “You’ll be the reason he and Madison are in prison the rest of their lives. You got them off the streets. Tanya would be proud, and so will the other girls.”
Thoughtful, I nod. “Then I’m okay with it,” I murmur. “I don’t want to let anyone down.” These words are for Chris, who smiles.
“You won’t. I promise,” he replies.
After weeks of struggling to accept the idea of going to court, I’m not completely convinced. It seems surreal to think Robert and Madison will go to jail without me testifying against them.
“When will you know?” I ask.
“Early next week.”
Chris and Tenet speak with one another but I’m zoned out, deep in thought.
We leave Tenet’s office shortly after. I glance down and text Dom to see if he’s still on the clock.
Just getting ready to leave, he responds.
I smile. I’m headed to the side entrance.
Chris and I reach the side entrance, where Dom waits, in his uniform. He smiles, and warmth floods me.
Chris breezes past Dom with a glance. “Making a call. Be ready when I’m done,” he says to me.
Fabio backs off, too, and I stand in the hallway with Dom.
“Ready to paint some nails?” I tease.
“Definitely!” he says with a laugh. “You doing okay with all this?”
“I’m not sure what to think,” I say truthfully. “Maybe when you come over tomorrow we can talk about it? If you want.”
“I’d be happy to,” he replies, smiling.
I’m not sure what else to say. Warmth bubbles inside me. I really want there to be more than friendship with Dom, but it’s going to take a long time for me to be ready. I’m not sure what that means in the meantime, or if he’ll even be interested in hanging around that long.
With mixed feelings, I give him a small wave and then walk out the door, towards Chris. Seeing Dom fills me with happiness. I can’t exactly go out to the movies without being chased by the media. How am I supposed to lead a normal life?
Accompanied by this thought, I spend the rest of the day hiding in my condo.
Ari arrives the next day around noon. Soon after, Nellie shows up to make us snacks and food for the visitors. I hug my favorite cook, who seems genuinely happy to see me. She gets started in the kitchen while Ari and I push furniture around in the family area until we have a big enough space for all of us girls to sit on the floor and do our nails. We collect all the pillows we can find and toss them on the floor then set up little stations with different nail polish and a ton of makeup she and I have bought but never used.
Dom shows up with his three nieces around three. My eyes are pinned to him from the moment he enters the condo. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. He nudges the youngest of the girls in when she freezes up in the doorway.
All three of the girls are adorable with the Adriani’s big, brown eyes and different shades of brown hair. They stare around the foyer and condo. The penthouse is much smaller than Gerard’s house but is large for an apartment.
“Come in, girls!” Nellie calls from the kitchen. “I have tons of food.”
The girls enter, with some encouragement by Dom, who grins.
“Come on!” Ari says and holds out her hands to two of the girls. She herds them towards the kitchen. “Nellie’s made a cookie decorating station and ice cream bar just for you!”
Dom reaches me, and we
gaze at each other. Neither of us seems to know what to say. At least, I don’t.
“Thanks for the invite,” he says. “They’ve been talking about coming all week. They think their lame uncle is cool now, because I know someone famous.”
“You’re never lame,” I murmur.
Ari is busy with the girls and Nellie, who are all making shy introductions.
Dom motions to the living area, and we walk there together. The moment he sees the preparation Ari and I have made, he laughs.
“This is perfect!” he exclaims.
“Pillows, makeup, ice cream and cookies,” I say with a smile. “What else could a girl want?” I plop down on the couch and he sits a respectful distance away. “I have to tell you about the meeting with the DA.”
I fill him in. Dom listens, his smile growing as I finish.
“That’s amazing,” he says quietly. “Do you know how many women never see any kind of justice?”
“Yes,” I reply, thoughts on the girls from the women’s shelter. I’m not sure what to think about the idea I’m seeing justice when they won’t. “How’s your family? Anyone get shot lately?”
“No, they’re good,” he replies. “Thanks for including me in your speech.”
I’ve been thinking about how I don’t know much about him, while he – and the rest of the world – knows everything there is to know about me.
“Can you tell me about … you?” I ask and then flush, embarrassed. “That came out wrong. I meant, where you went to school, about your family … I want to learn more about you.”
A squeal from the kitchen draws both our attentions. Ari has whipped cream in her hair and is laughing.
“Something tells me we’re the grownups here,” Dom says.
I laugh.
He glances at me then back, his features warm and gaze direct. “If you think you have a crazy family, wait until you hear about mine,” he starts with a smile.
I sit back to listen, fascinated to know more about the man who’s supported me since day one. Before Dom can go far, however, my phone rings. I glance down to silence it when I see Chris’ name on the screen.
“I’m sorry, Dom. I need to talk to Chris,” I say and stand. I move away, in case Chris has some sort of terrible news and I have a meltdown. I’d rather have my meltdown where Ari and Dom’s nieces can’t see me. I answer the cell, heart somersaulting. “Hey, Chris.”
“They took the deal,” Chris says.
I freeze.
“You there?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“They took the deal. No trial. No court. You’re done.”
“He’s going to jail forever?”
“He’ll probably be paroled in twenty-five years,” Chris replies.
“It’s over?”
“You have a lot more to handle,” he reminds me. “School, moving far away, your half-siblings, who still want you to do a couple more press conferences with them. Dr. Thompkins thinks you’ll need to be in therapy for a few years. You’ll need plenty of time to heal.”
Why does all that sound … easy compared to what I thought would happen?
“What about Gerard?” I ask reluctantly.
“He can’t do anything to you other than slam you in the press. If he slanders you, I’ll be at his door in a heartbeat.”
“I know you will,” I reply. “Is he upset?”
“I imagine so. This will tank his chances at becoming VP and likely set him back in his re-election bid, too.”
I kind of feel bad about that. I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.
“He’ll be fine, Mia,” Chris says, as if reading my mind. “He’ll bounce back or retire. He has nothing to worry about.”
“It feels strange that he’s suddenly out of my life,” I whisper. “I want it that way, but I’m not used to the thought yet.”
“It’ll take time.”
“Does it bother you?”
Chris is quiet for a moment. “Yes and no,” he responds. “After how he’s treated you, I don’t know how I can forgive him. But he is my brother, and he’s been in my life for forty-five years. It’s going to take us both some time to figure it out.”
“I know the name of a good therapist,” I joke.
“I won’t rule it out. You deserve a better parent than you’ve had.”
“Including Mama?”
Chris sighs. “She won’t stop calling me.”
I laugh, unable to stop my amusement at the frustration in his tone. If he thinks I’m a handful, he’s forgotten how insane it is dealing with my mother. Chris hasn’t had the firsthand experience with her the past eighteen years that I have. I imagine he’ll entertain banning her to another country, too, once he’s fed up.
The tears in my eyes are those of relief. “Thank you,” I manage to choke out before I start crying. “For everything.”
“There’s still a long journey to healing, but I feel like, with this out of the way, you have some closure.”
“I do.”
“I have one last visit to Gerard’s to collect my office materials. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I nod. My throat is too tight for me to speak, and I don’t know if I want to laugh hysterically or break down weeping.
It’s over – but not. All I can think about is the women from the shelter, who will never see justice. I feel like, in some small way, I’ve gotten justice for all of us. I know that’s not true, and I know there are a lot of women out there still suffering. I don’t have the answer of what to do for them.
I want to think of one, though, because every one of them deserves to receive a phone call like the one I just got. I have time to figure it out, and I have people to help me.
“Everything okay?” Dom is standing in the opening of the hallway.
“Yeah,” I reply. For once, it’s true. “Chris says Robert took the deal. He’s going to prison for the rest of his life, and so is Madison.”
“My god. That’s incredible!”
I should probably make an attempt to interact with Dom without crying, but that’s not happening tonight. I reach for him, and he wraps me in his warm embrace again. He grounds me in a way only he and Ari can. I love them both for it.
“Mia, are you okay?” Ari asks quietly. She’s approaching from the kitchen.
Dom releases me and I laugh.
Ari’s got sprinkles all over her, frosting on one cheek, whipped cream in her hair and other signs she’s spent the past few minutes with three little girls at a cookie and ice cream bar.
“They took the deal,” I manage to say without breaking down.
Ari throws her arms around me, almost choking me in her excitement.
Dom moves towards the living area to entertain his nieces, who are sitting on the floor with bowls of ice cream and starting to poke around at the makeup.
I cry into Ari’s hair. She cries, too, and I realize how much she’s had to handle while supporting me. She’s never complained, never failed to be there when I called, never stopped trying to support me. We sink onto the floor, holding one another, and cry.
When we’ve recovered, we rejoin the party going on in the living area. Nellie brings out more food than a football team could eat. Ari and I turn on chic flicks, and we sit with the girls on the floor to do our nails and experiment with makeup.
Dom has no trouble becoming either an assistant or a test dummy for makeup. He’s as gentle with his nieces as he is with me and just as patient.
It ends up being one of the happiest days of my life and definitely the happiest day the past few months.
19
The question of how long it takes a distinguished politician to fall from grace never crossed my mind. But if I had known to ask it, the answer is five days.
The following week, two politicians are embroiled in scandals: Gerard Abbott-Renou and Keith Connor.
On Monday, the press war between Gerard and the rest of my family starts. Joseph was raised by a politician to become a politician. He
once told me he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I don’t fully understand what that means until I see his media campaign unfold. I’m surprised – and not. He holds nothing back, not even what remains of the family dirt involving Gerard. Joseph and Molly know every shady thing their father has ever done, and it all winds up on the front pages of every newspaper.
On Tuesday, my mother announces her decision to divorce Gerard. If it had been any other day, no one would care. But she deliberately chose the day after Joseph’s opening attack on Gerard’s character. Mama doesn’t get along with Joseph and Molly, but something tells me they worked together, for different reasons.
The evidence in the case against Robert leaks, allegedly from a hack of the police’s computers. I can’t help thinking these hackers were paid off or otherwise encouraged by someone in my family. My money is on Joseph but I don’t rule out Chris or my mother either. In any case, the DA’s case is analyzed by every half-legit news site in the country.
On Wednesday, Joseph announces his bid to challenge my father’s seat in Congress. Joseph is running as an independent – and he’s got the media to back him. I go to his press conference, at his request, but don’t have to make a speech. I just have to stand behind him and look pretty.
On Thursday, under a great deal of pressure resulting from the leaked files, Keith Connor announces he’s bowing out of the race for his party’s presidential nomination due to personal reasons. Any chance Gerard has of being named on a VP ticket is gone.
On Friday, even Gerard distances himself from the Connors in a press conference in the hopes of retaining his seat in the Senate.
It took over three months for me to decide to do the right thing and five days for Gerard’s world, and Robert Connor’s, to crash down around them. I don’t feel victorious, not when I alternate between sleeping in my safe room and bed. My nightmares aren’t completely gone, and I’m plagued by the memories of all that’s happened.
Dr. Thompkins says there’s no cure for the emotional damage of what I’ve been through, which makes the downfall of the Connors, Madison, and Gerard bittersweet. They’re getting what they deserve.
