Bruno winked.
“I wait for you outside door,” Bruno said.
Sandy nodded to the man.
“Shall we?” Aden asked.
Sandy nodded. They went into their bedroom to get ready.
~~~~~~~~
Sunday night — 7:47 p.m.
Denver, Colorado
Sandy sat in a chair in front of a paper bag that had been filled with her mail. A small stack of bills was sitting on a folding chair next to her. An overflowing paper bag stuffed with envelopes, flyers, catalogs, and other things for the recycling bin were to her right. While they waited to hear the next plea deal, she’d been going through the mail she’d missed while visiting New York.
She gave an angry snort at the idea that they’d heard any plea deals. They’d rushed down to the courthouse only to sit in this room. Once an hour, a representative from the DA’s office came to tell them that they were still negotiating. About an hour before, they’d brought the deal the defendant wanted — the single count of rape for the assault caught on the ATM tape. He’d be sentenced to ten years in jail at the most. The defendant was likely to be out with the time he’d already served. Tink had jumped to her feet and started screaming at the associate DA. The other girls joined her. Intimidated by them, the associate DA scurried out of the room.
Shaking her head, Sandy reached into the bottom of the bag to grab the last letter. It was stuck under a flap under the paper bag. She had to tug on it to get it free. Without looking at it, she turned the envelope over and pulled the letter out. Just then, the door opened, and the DA appeared. Samantha Hargreaves got up to speak with him. Sandy’s eyes followed the interaction while her hands opened the letter. Seeing Samantha shake her head, Sandy looked down at the letter.
She gasped and swallowed hard.
“Sandy?” Aden asked. He got up from where he was playing cards with Charlie, Nash, Teddy, and a couple of the other fathers. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes flicked up to look at him and then back to the letter.
“You’re pale as a sheet,” Aden said. “What is it?”
He grabbed the letter from her hands and read it. Sandy stared at the check.
“Oh,” Aden said. “Wow.”
“Okay, this is where we are. . .” Samantha said.
The room became instantly silent. The children and parents turned their full attention toward the door. Aden turned around to look at Samantha.
“His representation is confident they can beat this case,” Samantha said. “They’ve been through the evidence. They are sure their client will be exonerated. In fact, they’re filing a defamation case when the courts open in an hour.”
“What?” Sandy asked into the chorus of questions and swear words.
Samantha held up her hands for them to be quiet. The room became silent again.
“The problem is that they could be right,” Samantha said. “We can connect the financier and this man. We know that Aden and Jake saw him when Noelle was attacked. But the financier is dead and otherwise. . .”
Samantha shrugged.
“What about the guys?” Sandy asked. “Surely the other boys are testifying against him.”
“No,” Samantha said. “The boys are shockingly quiet. Most of them have refused to participate in this case or can’t because of their plea deals. He could easily walk”
No one said anything.
“Why would the boys do that?” Charlie asked.
“If this jerk is found not guilty, they can appeal their cases,” Samantha said.
“How?” asked the father of one of the girls who had killed herself.
“They can say that he was the leader. If he’s not guilty, then they aren’t.” Samantha gave a small nod of her head. “It doesn’t feel fair, I know, but it is legal.”
“What do you recommend we do?” Sandy asked.
“We have to go to trial,” Samantha said.
“To trial?” one of the father’s asked. “You said that my daughter wouldn’t have to testify.”
“I was hoping she wouldn’t have to,” Samantha said. “I’m sorry. They are betting that you would rather have him go free than have the kids testify.”
“You’ve got that right,” another father said.
“We have a few minutes if you’d like to think about it,” Samantha said.
The children looked at each other. The parents whispered among themselves.
“I say we go to trial,” Tink said with a nod.
Sandy glanced at Heather, who was giving Tink a worried look.
“I think so, too,” one of the other girls said.
“I don’t know,” Ivy’s Aunt Grace said. “Testifying can be really awful.”
“What we went through was really awful,” Wanda said. “And this guy did this in other cities. Imagine what those girls will feel like if we just let him walk.”
“Or the girls who killed themselves,” Charlie said with a nod. “We owe it to them to go through with it.”
“We have to stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves,” Noelle said with a nod.
Sandy’s eyes flicked down the row of her children and their friends. The other girls were also clear. The children were ready to fight. Glancing at the other parents, she saw that their faces held the dread she felt in her own heart.
“I don’t know,” Aden said.
“You know he’ll do it again,” Tink said.
Trying to find some wisdom, Sandy looked up at the ceiling.
“I have to bring them something,” Samantha said.
“Tell them we’re going to trial,” one of the other mothers said. “My daughter died at their hands as surely as if they’d murdered her themselves. If these kids are willing to testify in her place, I’m certainly not going to say ‘No’.”
The other parents gave grudging nods.
“Sandy?” Samantha asked.
Sandy glanced at the check for a second and then looked up at Samantha.
“I think we go to trial,” Sandy said with a nod.
“Then you agree?” Samantha asked. She looked around the room at the nodding heads. “I’ll go tell them.”
Samantha left the room.
“Let’s go home,” Aden said.
“Can we get breakfast?” Charlie asked. “Sam’s is right here.”
“Yes, in fact, it’s my treat,” Sandy said. “I still have Schmidty’s credit card.”
She glanced at Aden, who nodded. Standing up, she folded the check and tucked it in her back pocket.
“Please, do join us,” Aden said to the other parents. “It’s going to be a long haul. We may as well get to know each other.”
A few of the parents nodded, while the others begged off. They waited until their bodyguards came to get them. Sandy followed Ivy and Wanda out of the building. They were almost to the glass doors when Ivy tugged on her arm. Sandy looked at the young girl.
“Is that the guy?” Ivy pointed to a young man making his way across the lobby. His arms were handcuffed together and his legs in shackles. He sported a Denver Sheriff’s Officer on either arm. The young man whistled at Tink and made kissing lips at her. Aden stepped between Tink and the young man.
“That’s him,” Sandy said.
“Oh,” Ivy said.
“Why do you ask, Ivy?” Samantha asked.
Chapter Three Hundred and Sixty-eight
Doing things differently
“That’s the guy who, you know. . .” Ivy said.
Even at ten years old, Ivy was a tiny girl. Samantha had to kneel down to see her eye to eye.
“You remember him?” Samantha asked.
“He made the guys let him go first,” Ivy said in a soft voice. “Said he liked young virgins.”
Ivy nodded. Sandy put her arm around the child’s shoulders for support.
“We’ll make sure we tell them that in court,” Samantha said with a nod. She got up. “I love breakfast. I almost never get to go. I’m so glad we’re goin
g.”
“No,” Ivy said. “You don’t understand.”
Samantha knelt down to Ivy again.
“What don’t I understand?” Samantha asked.
“He marked me,” Ivy said. “On the place between, you know.”
“Me too,” the other young girl said. “Burned his initials there.”
“And his ring,” a third girl said. She looked up at her mother, and her mother nodded.
“We looked into getting it removed, but. . .” her mother said with a shake of her head. “At least she doesn’t have to look at it.”
Samantha looked down the line at the three youngest victims. Sandy gave the mother a grim look, and the mother nodded.
“He said it was so any guy who came later would know he’d been there first,” Ivy said.
“Did you girls tell the police this?” Samantha asked.
“No one asked,” Ivy said. “It’s in my medical file because it got infected.”
“Mine, too,” the girl with her parents said.
The girl’s parents nodded.
“Can you excuse me for a minute?” Samantha asked.
“We’ll see you at breakfast,” Sandy said. “Come on, girls. There are pancakes waiting for us.”
They went out the door. Sandy walked with her arm around Ivy. Bruno was driving, so Sandy stayed with Ivy. They slipped into the back of the SUV.
“Where did she go?” Ivy asked when they were in the SUV.
“I think she went to talk to the DA,” Sandy said.
“Am I in trouble?” Ivy asked.
“No,” Sandy said. “If anything, you’ve solved their problem.”
“What do you mean?” Ivy asked.
“We can connect this jerk to you in a real physical way,” Sandy said.
“Oh,” Ivy said. “Am I going to have to show everybody in court?”
“Not a chance,” Sandy said. “But you might have pictures shown. Would that be okay?”
“I guess so,” Ivy said. She thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, that’s okay.”
Sandy nodded. They fell silent on the short drive to Sam’s No. 3 on Fifteenth Street. They were getting out when Ivy tugged on Sandy’s shirt. Sandy looked at her.
“Is it okay to wish he was dead?” Ivy asked.
“I do,” Sandy said with a smile. “It’s probably not very healthy for me. But, man. . . I wish he die in some horrible way.”
“Acid bath,” Ivy whispered. “Giant garbage disposal. Whrrrrr.”
Sandy smiled, and Ivy laughed.
“You may need to hold onto that anger just to get through this,” Sandy said.
“And then what?” Ivy asked.
“Then we’ll send you to an ashram to learn forgiveness,” Sandy said. “Ommmm. . .”
Ivy giggled and nodded. The girl ran forward so that she could sit next to Charlie. It was the first time Charlie had been in the restaurant since he’d been beaten up. The wait staff made sure they were welcome. They had just ordered when Samantha Hargreaves arrived. She tucked into the seat that Sandy had saved for her.
“What happened?” Sandy asked.
“Turns out that everyone missed this,” Samantha said. “Probably because they had to replace the entire crime team, but no one knew what I was talking about when I told them. They did not know that the perp marked his youngest victims. Not with his initials anyway. And they have that ring — took it from him when they booked him. It’s a school ring with his name on the inside. While I was standing there, the detectives matched Ivy’s burn to that ring. They are subpoenaing the other girls’ medical records right now.”
“And?” Sandy asked.
“I think we’ve got him,” Samantha said.
“They’re not going to go down without a fight,” Sandy said.
“Nope,” Samantha said. “We need to buckle up. It’s going to be a wild road.”
Sandy nodded.
“Now, when are you going back to work?” Samantha asked.
“I’m going in today to see what’s what,” Sandy said. “I haven’t been there in a long time.”
“And you’re willing to do your friend Samantha’s hair today?” Samantha asked.
Sandy looked at Samantha. She picked up a piece of Samantha’s lovely auburn hair and looked at the ends.
“I haven’t had a cut since long before the blessed birth was born,” Samantha said.
“‘Blessed birth’?” Sandy asked with a laugh.
“Once a nickname gets started in my family, it sticks,” Samantha said.
“How is she?” Sandy asked.
“Oh, let me tell you,” Samantha said with a smile.
Samantha took out her cell phone to show Sandy the pictures. For the next hour, they ate breakfast, laughed, and looked at the “blessed birth.” Fortified, Sandy looked around the table.
“What are you thinking?” Samantha asked.
“I think we’ll get through this,” Sandy said.
“Yes,” Samantha said. “We will.”
~~~~~~~~
Monday mid-morning — 11 am
Denver, Colorado
Heather stood on the hospital elevator for what she hoped was, at the very least, one of the last times. She wore her infant son in a tight sling that Valerie had helped her tie. Tink was leaning against the corner of the elevator in a sullen silence. Stunned and amazed by the elevator itself, Mack held tightly to her hand. A stranger looked at her and smiled.
“They are adorable,” he said.
“Thanks,” Heather said. Tink cast her a dark look. Shaking her head, Heather said, “What?”
“English?” Tink asked in a surly way at the same time the stranger said, “Excuse me.”
“Sorry,” Tink said. “My mom makes up code languages for the CIA. When she’s working on one, she randomly speaks it. It’s insane.”
“Thank you for your service to our great country,” the stranger said.
Heather gave him a vague smile. The elevator stopped, and he stepped off. The elevator doors closed and the elevator started moving again.
“CIA?” Heather asked.
“What language was that?” Tink asked. “It sounded like gibberish.”
“I spoke another language,” Heather asked. She looked at Tink, who nodded. She glanced at Mack, who also nodded. “Sorry, I had no idea.”
“What language was it?” Tink’s voice rose with irritation and exasperation.
“Probably Olympian,” Heather said. “I’ve been trying to re-learn it. I have to attend a meeting soon.”
“Olympians speak their own languages?” Tink asked.
“Unfortunately,” Heather said. “To make things more exciting, Titans do as well.”
“Elitist snobs,” Tink said.
Heather nodded. The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Tink sneered at the doors but didn’t move.
“Come on,” Heather said.
“He doesn’t want to see me,” Tink said. “He wants to see his baby, then you, then maybe Mack, before he gets to the reject.”
“Tiffany!” Blane’s voice came from the landing. “I can hear her voice, but I don’t see her! Is that you?”
Unable to stop herself, Tink ran off the elevator and into Blane’s arms. Over Tink’s shoulder, Blane winked at Heather, as she stood on the elevator landing. While Tink cried, Blane talked in her ear.
“Daddy!” Mack said. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”
Mack wrenched his hand from Heather’s tight grip and ran to where Tink and Blane were hugging. He put his arms around their legs. Blane kissed Tink’s cheek and picked up Mack in one arm. He kept his other arm firmly around Tink. Heather hung back for a moment to give him time to enjoy his family. When he looked up at her, she stepped forward.
“May I?” Blane asked.
Heather gave a slight nod. He tapped Tink’s waist, and she kissed him on the cheek again. Her face wet with tears, Tink let go of Blane and latched onto Heather’s shoulder.
“Mo
mmy!” Mack said and squirmed.
The boy held out his arm to Heather. She took Mack from Blane. He gave her a soft smile before carefully lifting their new son from the sling.
“Hello, son,” Blane said, as he looked upon his son for the first time.
Blane stared down at his son, and the baby opened his eyes.
“Oh, my God — I think my heart just broke open,” Blane said.
He held his arm out. Moving as a unit, Tink, Mack, and Heather hugged him. He kissed Heather.
“We love you, Daddy!” Mack said the words he and Heather had practiced for days.
Blane started to cry.
“Let’s go home,” Heather said in a soft voice.
“I have to check out and. . .” Blane said.
He looked up to see his nurse waiting with a wheelchair. Still crying, Blane gave their son back to Heather before doing another round of thanking his nurses. He went from person to person finally ending with his doctor.
“He’s doing very well,” the doctor said. “We’ve started him on a strict vaccine schedule but, just like with your baby, until we’re done, he won’t be fully protected.”
Heather smiled at the information the doctor had already given her when he called this morning. The doctor went over the same information again — watch his diet, we don’t know about allergies, take it very slow, try to avoid crowds, don’t be around sick people, and other good advice for Blane’s brand-new immune system. Heather nodded and smiled.
After all the talk and thank-you’s and goodbyes, Heather’s little family was finally standing at the back of the elevator. Blane’s nurse wheeled him into the elevator, turned him around, and then pushed the button for the Lobby.
“You know that most of Lipson construction is waiting in the Lobby,” Heather said.
“They are?” Blane asked. His voice was laced with genuine wonder.
“Of course, they are,” Heather said with a smile.
“Mr. Lipson,” the nurse said. “Why don’t you put on this mask? That way you can see your friends and reduce your risk of getting sick.”
“You knew?” Blane turned around to look at her nurse.
“Of course,” the nurse said with a smile. She nodded toward Heather.
Blane leaned back and smiled at her. She winked at him. The elevator opened to the Lobby.
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