The Defendant

by Chris Taylor

  How could she go through with it? The very boy at the center of it was distraught and desolate in her arms. The rules of society dictated that he be brought before a court of law to answer for his actions. He’d shot a man dead; a criminal, a man who was raping the boy’s mother. The laws of the society they lived in demanded there be consequences for not conforming to its rules.

  But who would it serve if he was sent away to spend months, even years in juvenile detention? It wouldn’t serve his mother and it sure as hell wouldn’t make a difference to the way Daniel felt about his guilt. He had been convinced his actions were necessary. He did what he had to do to protect his mother; to bring an end to her pain. If he was put in similar circumstances, he’d do the same thing all over again.

  Locking him up wouldn’t change his outlook; it wouldn’t make him see the error of his ways. He had to live with his actions every single minute of the rest of his life and that was punishment enough—worse than being imprisoned, as far as Josie was concerned. All she wanted was to take him home and comfort him and promise to make everything better. She wanted to treat him like the young, lost boy he was.

  But that choice wasn’t hers to make. Society stated otherwise. Soon, the contents of her report would be argued from both sides of the bar table. She didn’t know what would be contained in the psych report obtained by Daniel’s lawyer, but she hoped it carried some convincing arguments that the boy be left alone. He was now without a mother. He’d suffered way too much. Surely the judge would see that? She could only hope that this tragic mess would be sorted out and that Daniel, through some miracle, would be given another chance at life.

  * * *

  The funeral home was dim and quiet and gave Trevor Logan the shivers, but he forced himself inside the room where he’d been told his wife lay in repose. A moment later, he spied her, or at least the polished wood of her coffin and he moved toward her in a trance, until finally he reached her side.

  He’d been told there had been an autopsy, but she still looked just the same. With a trembling hand, he brushed the hair off her beautiful face. Her skin was cold and waxy, but she looked so calm and peaceful—she looked like she was sleeping. The shadows under her eyes were gone and so was the pain of the last month. He was glad she was no longer hurting. He wished he could say the same.

  The truth was, he was struggling desperately and he didn’t know what to do. The guilt was slowly eating him from the inside out and every day the blackness grew until it was almost like he no longer existed, and all that was left was a shell: a shell filled with anger and helplessness and more than an ocean of blame—all of it directed at him.

  It had taken him nearly a week after the attack to even bring himself to look at his wife. He’d tried so hard, but he couldn’t do it, even when he knew his avoidance was tearing her apart. Each time he went to gaze at her, all he saw was the animal who’d violated her.

  It was ludicrous because he hadn’t even set eyes on the perpetrator. The body had been long removed when the police made contact with him and he’d finally made it home, but it didn’t stop him from imagining the scene over and over again and every time he did, the anger and fear and utter helplessness returned tenfold to overwhelm him. If he’d walked in and saw what was happening he would have done exactly what his son did. There was guilt there too, that he hadn’t been there for his family.

  Then there were his boys and the toll it had taken on them: Daniel most of all. Another wave of guilt pounded into him from all sides. He was the one who’d taught Daniel about guns, about hunting, about safety, and it was he who’d told his eldest son he was the man of the house while his father was away. All Daniel had done was follow his father’s orders. He’d protected his mother and brother, like his father had asked him to. The guilt of the consequences for his son nearly overwhelmed him.

  Daniel, his beautiful boy, was shattered. He moved through the house like a ghost. The worst of it was, Trevor had nothing left to give him. It was all Trevor’s fault that his son had reacted the way he had to defend his family, yet now it was all Trevor could do to keep himself upright and to keep up the appearance that he was still functioning halfway normal.

  He scoffed in the silence. He was so far from normal, the mere thought of it was a joke. Still, he did his best to alleviate the concern he saw in the eyes of well-meaning neighbors who dropped by and he tried hard to make it appear that he was coping.

  He should have been home when that son of a bitch came calling. It was as plain and simple as that. If Trevor had been home with his family, the nightmare would never have happened. The drug-crazed fuck might have still chosen their house, but he wouldn’t have found a woman and children alone and undefended. Trevor would have been the one to take the gun to the fucker and he would have gladly faced the consequences.

  It shouldn’t have fallen to his twelve-year-old boy to take on such a responsibility. The whole nightmare was wrong on so many levels. Even still, with his wife lying there in a coffin, he couldn’t help the surge of pride for his son, a boy who’d managed to do to the scum what he’d imagined doing himself.

  Trevor couldn’t believe the police had charged his son. How fucked up was that? Daniel had done what any man would have done and now he was the one in trouble.

  It was a fucked up world they lived in. Of that, he had no doubt. And now his beloved Kelly was dead. Gone, just like that. Life for him and his boys would never be the same again.

  A surge of emotion overwhelmed him and hot tears sprang to his eyes. How in fuck’s name was he going to live without her? What the hell was he meant to do? He leaned over the open coffin and buried his head against her chest. The smell of the embalming fluid burned his nostrils. She was stiff and cold, even through her clothes. She felt like a stranger.

  “How could you leave me? How could you leave our boys?” he sobbed, with all the pain and desolation in his heart.

  The stranger remained coldly silent.

  He sobbed like he’d never stop.

  * * *

  Scott Jones stared at the calendar on the wall and marked off another day. Three more weeks and counting before he was out of this shit hole. Three more weeks before he could take the first step toward seeing his plan come to fruition and seek revenge for his mate.

  The prison siren wailed in the distance, indicating it was time to eat. Scott gathered the newspaper clippings he had spread across his bunk. After hearing about Neil’s murder, he’d scouted around for anything he could find. A few ciggies here, a pill or two there and he’d managed to gather quite a collection. He’d even gone on the Internet while he was down in the prison library and had Googled Neil’s name and the location: Watervale.

  Within moments, he found what he was looking for and had printed out the map. It would take him about six hours to drive there, longer if he had to take the bus. Still, it would be worth every minute of the wait—of that he had no doubt.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The day of Kelly Logan’s funeral was dreary, wet and gray. It was the kind of day that made you want to linger inside the warmth and comfort of your home, away from the cold and misery outside. But there would be no warmth or comfort today, inside or out, and there was no escaping the feeling of despondency that plagued Chase.

  The bleak weather only served as a harsh reminder that soon Kelly Logan would be laid to rest. Her misery was finally over and his own misery came to mind. He accepted that any chance he had of being with Josie, the woman he loved, was as good as buried, too.

  It had been three days since he’d spoken to her and it was agony to know that despite her living so close, she couldn’t be further away. For a decade, he’d struggled to forget about her—like a long raging war, the memories advanced and retreated back and forth in the depths of his mind. At those times, even sleep became his enemy and offered him no repose.

  While his heart had clung to the hope that things might be different someday, his mind cruelly reminded him that all hope had been extinguis
hed at The Bullet not so long ago.

  That she would be at the funeral, he had no doubt. He’d seen her with Daniel at the farmhouse. The boy had clung to her with a poignant desperation that tore at Chase’s heart. It pained him equally to see the despair and sadness etched onto Josie’s face as she’d held the young boy tight.

  Neither of them had noticed him, so absorbed in each other they’d been. It only reinforced for him how much she needed to be a mother. It would give her purpose, fulfil her in a way nothing else could. He’d always known that was the way of it, just as he’d known the chance he could give that to her was likely to be zero.

  With a sigh, he pushed the depressing thoughts from his mind and shrugged into his coat. Bracing himself against the blast of cold air, he opened the front door of his condo and hurried through the rain to his car.

  * * *

  Josie drew her jacket around her and bent her head against the wind. Watervale was only a couple of hours inland from the coast, but it was nestled at the base of a mountain range. The town was no stranger to ice and snow. Fall had come and gone and it would be only a matter of time before the quiet of winter would set upon them and the hot, sunny days and pleasant nights would be nothing more than a memory.

  With her shoulder, she pushed open the heavy wooden doors that led into the church and took a few moments to get orientated. Rows of wooden pews lined both sides of the generously proportioned church. A crucifix hung from high above the altar. The altar itself was marble inlaid with gold and gleamed in the dull light. The stained glass windows weren’t shown to their advantage because of the overcast day outside, but she could imagine how spectacular they would be in the bright sunshine.

  Earlier, waking to the sound of rain, Josie had let out a quiet groan of despair. As if attending the funeral of a loved one wasn’t difficult enough, now the Logan family was going to have to do it on a cold and dismal day. The weather seemed to set the tone of the morning and she’d been on edge ever since, reluctantly admitting that her turmoil not only had to do with Daniel and how he’d cope, but with Chase as well.

  Chase would be at the funeral, no doubt, along with many people from the town, including her brother, Riley. The Logans may not have been in Watervale long, but word had quickly gotten around. It would be a very rare person indeed who hadn’t heard about what had happened. First the sexual assault and murder and now, the devastating suicide. There wouldn’t be many in the tight-knit community whose hearts remained untouched.

  To her surprise, the church was only half full and she didn’t have to search long to find an empty seat. She chose one close to the front, but far enough away that she wouldn’t be mistaken for family. She wanted to be there for Daniel and to show him her support, but she was also conscious of not wanting to intrude. Daniel sat with his father and brother and from the familiar features of one of the women in the front row, a maternal aunt.

  Josie’s gaze alighted on the coffin where it stood in the center of the aisle. It was a dark cherry wood casket, its top laden with a bouquet of sweet-smelling lilies. White in color, they contrasted starkly with the darkness of the coffin, but somehow they seemed appropriate and their heavy perfume filled the air.

  She breathed in deeply and began to ease the air out between her lips. When she turned her head slightly, she caught sight of Chase and what was left of her breath came out in a rush.

  He looked as handsome as ever, tall and broad shouldered in his dark, tailored suit. His curly brown hair was damp from the shower, or maybe it was from the rain? Either way, it only added to his good looks. He was a man who demanded attention, whether he sought it out or not.

  She thought of the woman draped all over him in the bar and her jaw tensed. Chase had appeared more than happy with the situation and the woman sure as hell hadn’t forced him to hold her that close.

  Despite Josie’s best efforts, shards of jealousy once again pierced her heart and tears burned behind her eyes. She wished she could put this all behind her. She wished she didn’t care. But the truth was, she still loved him and would always love him. She’d cursed herself because the truth was, it was Chase Barrington, or no one else. She’d proved it over and over again. The crystallization of this reality was like being damned to hell.

  Not that she’d been promiscuous, but she’d done her best in college to forget him. It had only been after several short and futile relationships that she’d finally faced the truth: She’d never feel for other men what she felt for her high school love. Despite the way he’d left her and the agony of pain he’d caused, her heart still yearned for him and there was not a single thing she could do about it.

  She watched while Chase took a seat not far from her on the other side of the church. Her sigh of relief was tempered with disappointment. She hadn’t expected him to sit beside her, but it would have been nice if he’d at least acknowledged her presence.

  She caught a glimpse of another dark suit from the corner of her eye. The next moment, Riley squeezed in beside her, folding his long limbs into the tight confines of the pew.

  “How are you, sis?” he whispered, his dark eyes full of concern.

  A surge of emotion tightened her throat and she blinked back a rush of tears. Trust Riley to break through her defenses, he’d always had the knack for doing that. Despite being five years older, they shared a very close bond. He was dark as the night and she was as fair as the day, but somehow their characters meshed and they saw into each other’s souls.

  If there was anyone she could have confided in all those sad years ago, it was Riley. Her love for Chase was so big that she wondered how she’d contained it and kept it from her family. She’d wanted to sing it from the rooftops, to tell everyone who might want to hear, but she’d kept the knowledge a secret and now she was glad she had.

  When it all went wrong, there were many times she wished she’d had a sturdy shoulder to cry on, but by then, Riley had left home and she’d felt too ashamed to call him because she’d kept the truth hidden for so long.

  Knowing that she’d misjudged the one man who she’d loved beyond all others made it even harder to seek comfort in her older brother’s arms. In a way, she was glad no one else knew. She’d crawled into a deep hole, undisturbed, and mourned the loss of her love in private—and there had been so much mourning to do.

  She’d mourned the loss of her future; she’d mourned the loss of her past. She’d mourned the loss of her innocence… She’d never trust her heart to another again. She worked hard over the years not to grow bitter and she was sure she’d succeeded on that front. She wasn’t bitter. Angry, hurt, confused…yes. But she still believed in love. She only had to look at her parents and her married siblings for confirmation of that.

  Her parents were still going strong after forty years. All five of her brothers were married. She didn’t have to spend much time with any of them to feel the depth of love between them and their chosen mates. While the knowledge they were happy filled her with joy, she couldn’t deny during the dark and lonely depths of the night, she yearned to feel the same.

  Aware that Riley stared at her with a look of growing concern, she stammered out a few whispered words of reassurance and hoped he put her reticence down to the solemnity of the occasion. As if sensing her fragility, he put an arm around her shoulders and drew her in close against his side. She breathed in his warm, familiar smell and leaned into him, grateful to have him near.

  Gradually, the church filled and the service started with a hymn. The beautiful words of Amazing Grace brought a burst of fresh tears to her eyes. Riley shot her another look of concern tinged with understanding and pressed a soft kiss against her hair. She squeezed his hand and did her best to concentrate on the minister when he began to speak.

  The woman Josie guessed to be the older sister of Kelly Logan was halfway through the eulogy when Trevor gave out a cry of pain. Reaching out to the coffin, he threw his arm over it, his hand tangling up in the flowers. He hugged the coffin close and tears
streamed down his cheeks. Josie bit her lip, devastated by what she witnessed.

  Her gaze shot to Daniel and her heart broke right in two. The desolation on the young boy’s face was enough to unravel her. She stirred, ready to go to him, only realizing at the last minute what she was doing.

  Riley’s arm restrained her gently and she slowly relaxed back against him. It wasn’t her place to offer Daniel comfort. He had a family who could give him that. She was nothing more than the psychologist who had assessed him at the request of the prosecution and it wouldn’t be long before everyone would know the contents of her report. She was the woman who was about to ruin what was left of the tattered shreds of his life. He didn’t even know it yet.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Chase typed in the necessary information and finished his report. A fight had broken out earlier that morning between two men over the sale of fifteen pigs and it had taken him most of the day to get to the bottom of it. He loved his job in rural policing, but every now and then he found himself wondering what it would be like to be a detective in the city. Sydney or Melbourne, it didn’t really matter which one. Maybe, even Brisbane. He frowned at the thought. No, not Brisbane. He couldn’t imagine living there without thinking of Josie.

  He hadn’t seen her since the funeral, more than a fortnight ago, and even then, it had only been from a distance. She’d appeared clearly shaken in the church, fraught with sadness and sorrow. Overcome with emotion, she’d sought comfort in Riley’s arms. Chase had quietly bemoaned the injustice of it—it should have been him offering her solace that day, his strong arms keeping her safe, just like he promised her.