I Won't Remember You (Aidan & Vicky Book 6)

by Mairsile Leabhair

  “Thank you for taking me to the ballgame,” Freddie said in his ten year old voice.

  “Aw, you’re welcome, little man. The next time the Trav’s are in town, would you like to go?”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Freddie had only been to one Arkansas Traveler’s game, and that was with Aidan. Now his bedroom walls were plastered with baseball posters.

  “Cool. I’ll check with your mother, and we’ll go,” Aidan said, then she hugged the boy and told him to go sit with his mother. He ran back with a large grin on his face. Aidan walked back on stage and saw that her notes had blown off the podium. Shit. They had blown too far away for her to try catching them, so she straightened her jacket and looked out at the audience. As they sat down, she found Vicky again, who had been watching her with Freddie. The smile on Vicky’s face warmed Aidan’s heart, as it always did, because Aidan knew that that particular smile was only for her.

  “Now, if you would let us honor you, I would like to ask that the widows and widowers stand and be acknowledged. Several women and a few men stood up slowly. Aidan expected one or two, but when fourteen people stood up, some holding children in their arms, she was shocked and her eyes instantly teared up. “We owe you everything,” she said, blinking the tears away.

  Aidan jumped down from the stage again and walked up to the closest widow standing in the audience. Trenton followed suit, and together the two of them hugged the survivors as the audience continued to applaud.

  Returning to the podium, Aidan’s mind raced trying to remember what was on her notes. She decided to finish her speech with a request. “In closing, I would like to encourage President Trenton, and all the politicians and high ranking officers to do better by the soldiers, especially those wounded or living on the streets, and the soldier’s families. The burden of taking care of an amputee should not fall on the family. It should be the government’s honor to provide for that soldier, for without them, there would be no need for a government.”

  The audience jumped to their feet, applauding.

  Aidan would never agree that she was a hero, though she would easily claim that those soldiers in the audience were. Physically abused children rarely grow up hoping for the spotlight. Instead they’d rather live their lives in obscurity, because when they were praised as a child, it was always taken away with an insult or harsh criticism, which was then usually followed by a beating. The only one in Aidan’s life whose opinion mattered, was her childhood sweetheart, Vicky. And when she looked at Vicky, who was standing up leading the applause, she knew she had said something good. Impatiently waiting for the audience to sit back down, Aidan thought of one more thing she wanted to say.

  “So, let us always remember that when someone puts on this uniform, regardless of the branch of service he or she chooses, every member of that soldier’s family becomes a part of the military family. We all are serving together. Uh, thank you,” she said, and started to leave.

  “Let’s have another round of applause for Sergeant First Class Aidan Cassidy,” the MC encouraged.

  President Trenton stood up and shook Aidan’s hand, whispering in her ear. She smiled at him and then left the stage and sat down beside Vicky.

  “What did he say to you, honey?” Vicky asked.

  “He joked about me speaking before Congress,” Aidan replied. “I’m pretty sure it was a joke. At least it had better be a joke.”

  Chapter Eight

  The sun was happily shining through the stain glass windows in the hospital chapel, causing a kaleidoscope of colors to fall on the pews and floor. Vicky didn’t notice it. She was kneeling on the foot rail of the chair in front of her, her hands clasped together, and her head bowed in prayer. So entranced was she in her conversation with God, that she didn’t hear her Aunt Ruth come in and sit behind her. Ruth also knelt on the foot rail and bowed her head in prayer.

  “God, you know I’m not the best Catholic in my family,” Ruth began, “but you know what’s in my heart, and that’s what counts, right? Please, Your Holiness, be with my niece and her wife today. Please, give them the courage and patience needed to keep from ringing that bas… oh, uh, sorry, to keep from ringing that evil man’s neck. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” Ruth did the sign of the cross and sat back in the chair. When she saw Vicky had finished, she tapped on her shoulder.

  Vicky turned around and grinned when she saw Ruth. “Aunt Ruth? Where have you been? You missed my party Friday night.”

  “I’m sorry, Vicky. Kate and I were in New York again because of the long weekend. I left her there and got back just in time for the trial.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, Aunt Ruth. I’m going to be fine.”

  “Now, why don’t I believe that?” Ruth smirked. How are you really feeling about it?”

  “Well, don’t tell Aidan, but I’m really nervous,” Vicky replied.

  “Nervous.” Ruth repeated. “It’s an open and shut case, isn’t it?”

  “I think so, but you never really know until it’s over with. No, I’m nervous about seeing Harold again. The last time I saw him, I almost shot Aidan. At least that’s what I think happened. I don’t remember some of it.”

  “Listen, that bas…” Ruth looked up at the large crucifix with Jesus on it. “Sorry again, Lord.” Then she looked at Vicky, who was smiling. “That evil man will be judged by a much higher court someday. You go in there with your head held high, knowing that he can never hurt you again. All right?”

  “All right, Aunt Ruth. Thank you. I’d better get back to Aidan before she starts to worry. Will you join me?”

  “I’m going to swing by the cafeteria and get a blueberry scone.”

  Vicky shook her head. “Aren’t you borderline diabetic?”

  “Yes, but it’s okay until I cross that border,” Ruth replied.

  Sister Earline Joseph walked up carrying a chalice of wine and a napkin. “You missed Father’s mass this morning, Victoria, but I thought maybe you’d like to take communion?” The Sisters were aware of what Vicky was going through, because Vicky had asked them to prayer for her and Aidan.

  “You read my mind, Sister, thank you,” Vicky replied gratefully.

  Both Vicky and Ruth stood in front of Sister Earline, who said a short prayer, and then held the chalice out for them to drink.

  “Peace be with you, my children,” Sister prayed.

  “And also with you,” Vicky and Ruth said in unison.

  “And justice be done,” Sister Earline ad-libbed.

  “From your lips to God’s ears, Sister,” Ruth quipped.

  ***

  Aidan and Vicky arrived early, and took a seat on the bench directly behind the prosecutor. Vicky was nervous, but tried not to show it. She looked professional in her dark blue business suit, with her hair pulled back, and her face subtly made up. Aidan was anxious, but she also tried not to show it. She was wearing her comfort clothes; pale blue linen shirt, leather vest, black jeans, and slouch boots.

  Aidan looked around the gallery, relieved to see there weren’t too many people there, and only one reporter with a sketchpad, looking bored. There was a few court groupies, trial watchers, mostly old men who were retired with nothing better to do. Then there was a man sitting behind them that Aidan thought didn’t fit the norm. Could Harold have a friend? Nah, not possible. Aidan’s instincts told her to keep an eye on that man.

  “Honey,” Vicky whispered, leaning close to her wife. “The man sitting across from us in the back row is the one who came to visit me at the hospital. His daughter was also one of Harold’s victims.”

  Oh, that’s who he is. “The poor guy. He must be here to see justice done,” Aidan responded.

  “Let’s hope he gets it,” Vicky said halfheartedly, as she turned around and nodded at Bob Wilkes.

  Vicky’s parents sat beside her, and Joyce and Ellen sat behind them, with Ruth, Samantha, Richard, Yvonne and Jerry. Vicky had assured Yvonne that she did not have to be there,
just as Aidan told Jerry not to come. Neither of them listened to their bosses.

  The room grew quiet as Harold Cassidy walked in, escorted by two guards. They led him to the defendants table and removed his handcuffs. Harold was in a loose fitting, tweed suit that he had borrowed from his cousin.

  “Oh!” Vicky gasped when she saw him. She had tried to prepare herself for this day, but her reflexes betrayed her.

  “Are you okay, baby?” Aidan asked, taking her hand.

  “Yes, don’t worry, I’m fine. I was just startled when I turned around and there he was.”

  “You don’t have to be here for this part. Why don’t I drive you home?”

  “No, I won’t leave my parents to face him alone,” Vicky replied. “Dad is the first witness.”

  “All right, but if you start feeling anxious, just squeeze my hand, okay?”

  Vicky squeezed Aidan’s hand and then kissed it.

  “Listen, even if you don’t feel anxious, squeeze my hand, and I’ll squeeze yours. That means I love you and want to make mad passionate love right here on the seat.”

  Vicky laughed. “I’ll remember that.”

  The door swung open again and an older man wearing a gray uniform that matched the color of his hair, walked in. He carried a pistol holstered at his side, and a radio microphone attached to his left shoulder, just above his gold shield. The Bailiff walked in front of the Judge’s bench and said, “All rise. Division Eighteen, Sixth Judicial Circuit Court of the state of Arkansas, is now in session. The Honorable Judge Cecilia Williamson, presiding.”

  Judge Williamson walked in and sat down, then opened the prepared docket folder on her desk.

  “Please be seated and come to order,” the Bailiff said, and then walked to side and stood in front of the empty jury box.

  The clerk walked up and stood in front of the bench. “Calling the case of the People of the State of Arkansas versus Harold Cassidy,” she said, and then read the charges against Harold. It was quite a long list.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Judge Williamson said. “Are both sides ready?”

  “Prosecuting Attorney Meghan Tisdale, ready for the People, Your Honor.”

  George stuttered, “Me too, uh, I mean, Attorney George Peterson, ready for the defense, Your Honor.”

  The Judge looked down at her papers. “At his arraignment, the defendant waived his right to have his case heard before a jury, or to sequester the witnesses. The defendant has pleaded not guilty. Mr. Peterson, are these the facts as I have read them?”

  George stood up and said, “With one exception, Your Honor. The defendant will also serve as co-counsel.”

  Mumbling from the gallery grew louder as Aidan jumped up and shouted, “No, he can’t do that!”

  Simultaneously, Meghan jumped up and said, “I object, Your Honor!”

  The Judge pounded her gavel to silence the room. “On what grounds?”

  “Some of the witnesses have a violent history with the defendant and would feel too intimidated to speak, Your Honor.”

  Harold stood up and shook his head. “Not true, Judge.”

  “The defendant has a right to defend himself and I cannot make a judgement based on hearsay, Ms. Tisdale,” Judge Williamson stated. “Overruled.” She banged the gavel on the sound block again. “All right, I want to make it clear that I will not tolerate showboating or outbursts like we just had, in my courtroom.” She looked at Aidan, who reluctantly sat back down. “With that said, I will hear opening statements now.”

  Aidan looked down at the floor angrily, her leg jumping nervously. That’s why he waived his right to have the witnesses sequestered. He wants me to watch while he questions Vicky. Damn that bastard! I can’t let that son-of-a-bitch question her on the stand. Aidan knew that Harold would try to mentally rape Vicky, but what she didn’t know was how to stop him without being arrested for murder.

  Meghan stood up and walked in front of the table she had been sitting, so she could see the Judge, and the gallery could see her. “Meghan Tisdale for the people of the great state of Arkansas. Your Honor, if it please the court, the Montgomery’s were sitting at home that afternoon, enjoying a baseball game on the TV. Alice sat on the couch reading a magazine. Leonard sat in the recliner, engrossed in the game. The doorbell rang and Alice told her husband that she was expecting the plumber. Imagine his shock when Leonard opened the door to find his neighbor, whom he hadn’t seen in over fifteen years, standing in the doorway. Imagine Alice’s shock when she learned that the plumber, who had been in her house previously, was in fact the man stalking her daughter, Victoria Montgomery-Cassidy. The same man whom they believed raped Vicky when she was thirteen, and tried to rape her again just a few months ago. The same man who broke out of jail and instead of fleeing, went straightaway to find Vicky with the intention of doing harm to her, again.”

  Meghan paused for effect, and covertly checked Harold’s reaction. He was laughing. Aidan warned me about this. He is trying to manipulate me, the bastard! Meghan had a ready response for him. She winked at Harold. Then she looked back at the Judge and continued.

  “Harold Cassidy restrained the Montgomery’s in their own home, tormented and taunted them both physically and mentally, and then lured their daughter in. With malice toward the Montgomery’s, Harold methodically baited the trap, sat back and waited for his prey to come to him. He didn’t tell Vicky that he was holding her parents hostage, although that surely would have been enough to convince her to come to him. Instead, he told her what no spouse would ever imagine hearing. He told her that he would kill her wife, Aidan Montgomery-Cassidy, his own adopted daughter, if she didn’t come alone. Having been Harold’s victim on several occasions, Vicky knew it wasn’t an empty threat, and did as she was instructed. She went to face her attacker alone.”

  Aidan felt a chill run down her spine, remembering how close she had come to losing Vicky again. Vicky must have sensed something because she patted Aidan’s thigh. Aidan placed her hand on top of Vicky’s and held it there. That simple connection between them was more powerful than all the blindingly painful memories her mind had filed away since childhood. In that moment, the chill was chased away and she was filled with a calming warmth emanating from the woman beside her, the love of her life, her wife. As long as Vicky was by her side, she knew she could survive anything, even Harold’s psychotic manipulations.

  “Your Honor, the People will present witnesses that will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the defendant is guilty on all counts. Thank you.” Meghan sat down and poured a glass of water. She trained her eyes on the Judge as she took a sip.

  George stood up and buttoned his jacket over his protruding belly. “Your Honor, my client, Harold Cassidy, is innocent of all those charges and is only here because of his daughter’s malice toward him. In fact, I can show you photographs of his bruised and batter face—”

  “Objection,” Meghan said sternly.

  Williamson nodded. “Sustained.”

  “But Your Honor?” George questioned.

  “Mr. Peterson, save it for his other trial. You can’t have it both ways,” the Judge explained. “You may continue with your opening remarks.”

  “Uh, thank you, Your Honor,” George acknowledged, looking through his notes before he continued. “Whereas the burden of proof lies solely with the prosecutor, my client will be found innocent by the lack of said proof.”

  Harold rolled his eyes. What the hell is he talking about?

  “As the prosecutor presents her case, her witnesses will attest to the cause and effect of each of my client’s actions. The witnesses themselves will prove that he was harassed, scorned and forced to defend himself several times, as is his right.” George took a breath, and looked at Harold. Damn, I wish I believed what I was saying. “Harold Cassidy is the victim here, Your Honor. And the People will prove that. Thank you.” George sat down and leaned back in his sit, feigning confidence he didn’t have.

  Opening remarks we
re best used for a jury. Judge Williamson thought it had been a waste of her time, but procedure required that she listen. What she enjoyed most, especially when she was both Judge and jury, was the witness testimonies. The raw emotions, made rawer by brutal cross examinations. That’s when she would find the truth or the guilt.

  “The prosecution may call its first witness,” Judge Williamson said.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Meghan responded. “I call Leonard Montgomery to the stand.”

  Leonard squeezed his wife’s hand and then walked up to the Bailiff standing beside the witness chair.

  “Raise your right hand.”

  Leonard did as the Bailiff instructed, and raised his right hand.

  “Do you solemnly affirm that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “I do.”

  “You may be seated.”

  The witness stand was a simple chair with a high back and arm rests. It was not enclosed like the jury box, but it was two steps up from the floor.

  “Please spell your last name for the record,” the court reporter requested.

  Leonard spelled his name and then leaned back in the chair.

  Meghan stood in front of her table and asked, “Is the man who held you and your wife hostage I this room?”

  “Yes, that’s him,” Leonard answered immediately, pointing at Harold.

  “Let the record show that the witness confirmed Harold Cassidy as his kidnapper,” Meghan said.

  Meghan walked up to Leonard, and posed her next question. “Mr. Montgomery, you seem like an athletic man, how was Harold able to overcome you so easily?”

  Leonard looked at Vicky, his forehead creased with worry. This is going to hurt, honey. He knew this would come out in court, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  Meghan stepped into his line of sight, blocking his view of his daughter.

  He was forced to focus on Meghan, so Leonard took a deep breath and said, “He showed me a picture of Vicky lying on a bed, her blouse unbuttoned, and his hand on her chest.”