Beyond Innocence
Page 1
Table of Contents
Synopsis
By the Author
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
About the Author
Praise for LAMBDA Literary Award Finalist Carsen Taite
Books Available from Bold Strokes Books
Synopsis
When a life is on the line, love has to wait. Doesn’t it?
After a devastating professional embarrassment, Cory Lance has been banished from the courtroom. As part of her penance, she volunteers with an organization that works to free the wrongly convicted, and soon she’s saddled with a case certain to set her up for another big defeat. To top it off, she’s battling a strong attraction to her client’s sister, a woman with unreasonable expectations.
Serena Washington has learned to compartmentalize the negative pieces of her past, except for one—her brother, Eric, who is on death row for a murder he insists he didn’t commit. Loyalty drives her to enlist help from an organization with a reputation for unparalleled success, but Serena’s optimism is shaken when she learns the attorney assigned to the case has a reputation for cutting corners. Her whole world is shaken when she begins to fall in love with her.
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Beyond Innocence
© 2012 By Carsen Taite. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-808-7
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, New York 12185
First Edition: November 2012
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Cindy Cresap
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design By Sheri (GraphicArtist2020@hotmail.com)
By the Author
Truelesbianlove.com
It Should be a Crime
Do Not Disturb
Nothing but the Truth
The Best Defense
Slingshot
Beyond Innocence
Acknowledgments
All novels start with an idea that rocks around in the writer’s brain for a while until it’s ready to become a full-fledged story. The idea for this story came from D. Jackson Leigh, a generous friend and an awesome storyteller.
I believe in our system of justice, but I also realize it isn’t perfect. When a system isn’t foolproof, the only way to keep it from breaking down is to keep a close and watchful eye on the process and intervene when necessary. The attorneys and staff of the Innocence Project work tirelessly, and for not a lot of money, every day to provide assistance to those individuals for whom the justice system has failed. Thank you to the men and women whose efforts help keep the scales in balance.
Thanks to Len Barot, who despite being in charge of an enormously successful publishing company and being an amazingly prolific writer, still takes the time to give individual attention to all the authors who are lucky enough to be associated with Bold Strokes Books.
VK “Vic” Powell, once again you worked with me up until the very last moments before deadline to fine-tune this manuscript. Thank you. I cherish our friendship.
Cindy, your editorial touches always make me look good. Thanks for your insights and your humor
Sheri, will you ever run out of wonderful cover ideas? I hope not!
To everyone at BSB—thanks for all the things you do behind the scenes to make me and BSB look good.
A big shout out to the women of the Jewel Lesfic Book Club. You always make me feel like a rock star and I value the friendships I’ve made within the group.
Lainey, your support for my dreams makes me feel like anything is possible.
And finally, to all the readers who read my books, watch my vlogs, and take the time to let me know you’d like me to keep writing, I thank you.
Dedication
To Lainey. Our life, our love is beyond anything
I could have ever imagined.
Chapter One
Cory Lance didn’t spend a lot of time at the back of the courtroom. When she was at work, the well of the courtroom was her showplace.
But today she wasn’t working. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be working as a trial attorney again. Dressed in slacks and an open-necked shirt instead of her usual tailored suit, she stood as far away from the TV cameras and as close to the double-door exit as possible.
Lots of folks had showed up to see justice in action. More than had shown up for the original trial. Typical. The dead man hadn’t had as many friends as the guy now standing in front of the judge. Cory hoped Ray Nelson knew his growing circle of friends was more about the headlines his release would generate than genuine concern for his well-being.
Despite Cory’s attempts to melt into the background, Julie managed to catch her eye and offered a slight nod. Cory resisted smiling in response to the tiny acknowledgment. Frankly, she hadn’t expected any acknowledgment at all. Julie Dalmar looked like she always did. Beautiful, confident, distant. She stood behind the state’s counsel table, ready to bless the agreement that would release Ray Nelson back into the community that had banished him years ago.
Not for the first time, Cory wondered why she’d felt the need to witness this event. Maybe like loved ones who had to see the dead body before burial, she had to see her own destruction to believe it was real. She didn’t have long to dwell on her reasons. Judge Yost took the bench and the cameras started rolling.
“Counsel for the state?”
“Ready, Your Honor.”
“Counsel for the appellee?”
“Ready, Judge.”
Yost shuffled through the papers in her hand, glancing at the pages, more for show than real purpose. This event had been carefully choreographed days in advance. After a few minutes of pretend consideration, the judge set the documents aside and faced Nelson.
“Mr. Nelson, I have in front of me a motion from your lawyers and an accompanying order signed by your attorneys and the attorneys for the state of Texas. Have you had a chance to review the documents that have been filed on your behalf?”
Nelson shot a quick glance at the young male attorney at his side before strangling out his confirmation. The attorney was one of a larger group who’d flown in for this event. Cory wondered if they’d drawn straws to decide which one got to take center stage.
“The parties have asked me to dismiss the case against you and commute your sentence. Do you understand what th
at means?”
Nelson met her intense gaze and said, “I’ll be a free man as soon as you smack that gavel.” The courtroom erupted in laughter. Even Julie, who never laughed except at her own jokes, faked a chuckle. Wouldn’t want to stand out, Julie, would you? Cory inched closer to the exit. Almost time to go.
Judge Yost continued. “I don’t make a habit of smacking my gavel, but I think today I will make an exception.” She paused and waited until the room grew silent. “Mr. Nelson, the judicial system upon which our country was founded has failed you. I still believe in that system. I am a part of it, and I will work hard as long as I am on the bench to ensure that the system works, that it is fair, that it is just. The system failed you in the past, but today, we shall right this wrong. Today, we recognize the misconduct that placed you behind bars and kept you a prisoner for the past seven years.” Cory edged closer to the door. “I may not have the power to punish the people who are responsible for your fate, but I do have the power to rectify what happened to you. I hereby accept the agreed order filed by your attorneys and the state of Texas, dismiss the case against you, and order the sheriff of Dallas County to release you from custody. Immediately.” She struck her gavel hard against the bench and the courtroom burst into pandemonium.
Cory felt the tide of excitement course through the crowd, and she almost became caught up in the frenzy. Until she heard a man on the row in front of her ask his seatmate, “Isn’t that Cory Lance?” She slipped out the door before he could turn his head. This show was over for her.
*
Serena Washington summoned all her dignity as the uniformed man thrust a plastic dog food bowl in her direction and barked, “Empty the contents of your purse into this tray.”
She endured this, the third such search in the last half hour, without comment. She’d planned ahead, sorting necessities into the smallest handbag she owned before she’d begun the three-hour drive from the Dallas airport to this godforsaken place. She didn’t bother watching the guard as he rummaged through her belongings. Not much there. Her Florida driver’s license, a car key, and two rolls of quarters. The guards at the previous two gates had viewed the sparse contents with suspicion, but she was prepared to explain. She’d combed through the instructions on the website meticulously. The long list of contraband included paper money. She’d decided to be overly cautious and she’d left her wallet in the rental car. Lord knows with the security surrounding this place, it should be safe there.
At the man’s direction, she strode through the metal detector and winced at the loud beep. She stepped to the side and waited while he swept a wand over her entire body almost close enough to touch.
“You wearing any jewelry I can’t see?” he asked with a disinterested tone.
She shook her head. Her simple gold chain and locket were tucked away in her suitcase. She felt naked without the usual accessories to accompany her favorite blue suit, but she’d concentrated hard on getting through this day unnoticed. The plain, professional dress had already caused her to be mistaken for an attorney. He ran the wand across her chest again, and she immediately knew the source of the offending beep. She glanced around, but none of the guards were female. Summoning all the dignity she could muster, she leaned in close to the man and whispered, “It’s my bra.”
He looked puzzled and she wondered if he was new. Surely she couldn’t be the first woman to step through these doors wearing an underwire bra? She tried again. “Underwire. In the bra. I don’t have any other metal on me.”
He nodded, but stepped quickly away from her as if she were an alien. She watched while he conferred with the man monitoring the X-ray machine. They put their heads together and engaged in a lively, whispered discussion for a few seconds before the man with the wand finally waved her through. Apparently, they decided she wouldn’t be able to fashion a weapon out of the tiny piece of wire giving her lift.
She followed the herd of other visitors into a large room. One end was lined with Plexiglas stalls, the other with vending machines. A different guard directed them to sit and then shouted out rules. No knocking on the glass, no attempts at direct contact. “Hold your quarters. We’ll let you know when it’s time to use them.”
She sat at a corner stall and waited. She watched while others met with their loved ones. The prisoners uniformly asked about quarters before launching into questions about life on the outside. Diversity filled the room. Whites, blacks, Hispanics, Asians. Texas didn’t discriminate when it came to killing. She found the realization oddly comforting.
Twenty minutes passed before Eric arrived. She’d run out of distractions in the sterile environment, and her entire focus took in his entrance. Wrist cuffs ran through a belt around his waist, which was linked to a chain that ran down to his ankles. Cuffs around his ankles kept his steps short, but the real motivation to move slowly probably came from the three men who surrounded him. Each of them carried a long instrument. It took her a few seconds to get past the shock before she realized they sported cattle prods, the tips inches away from Eric’s skin.
They shoved him onto a seat identical to the one on which she was seated, small, steel, round. He wore a white T-shirt and khaki pants. He looked old. He wasn’t. He was only two years older than her thirty-three years. She leaned closer, stopping just short of the glass, but she didn’t speak. The guards hadn’t left yet. Finally, they stepped away and she sighed as she considered her first words.
Eric beat her to the punch. “Thank you.” Tears coursed down his cheeks, the restraints on his hands too tight to allow him the dignity of wiping them away. And just like that, she pushed aside her fiercely held resolve to cut ties with her troubled brother for the second time in her life. Blood runs strong.
She bit back a “you’re welcome.” Platitudes had no place here. Time was short. There was so much she didn’t know. Why he was here. What he wanted from her. Why she’d come when she’d sworn she wouldn’t be in this position ever again.
“I got your letter. I had to come. Tell me what you need.”
“I didn’t do it.”
She’d heard the words before. Believed them once. He didn’t steal the car, he’d only borrowed it for longer than the owner had originally allowed. He didn’t deal drugs, he was only in the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn’t break in the house, he’d been housesitting and the police didn’t believe him. She had vowed she would never believe them again.
Blood runs strong.
Never mind the fact she hadn’t spoken with him in three years. She’d spent the first few months of silence resisting the urge to check in, struggling against the draw to violate her vow of letting go. Finally, her urges had settled into forgetting her past and all the baggage it carried. She went on with her life, enjoyed her successes, and drowned her guilt in activity.
Until the letter. She’d read it a dozen times in the week since it had arrived in a plain white envelope, nestled among bills and credit card offers. It was wrinkled with wear. It scared her. It drew her into a past she’d rather forget. It was family, and the concept was foreign to her.
She’d left the letter at home. She didn’t need to keep it with her—she’d memorized every line.
I’m in real trouble this time. A jury sentenced me to death. Said I raped and killed a girl. They’re going to kill me, Serena. Make me pay for what they think I did. This is Texas. Folks don’t sit on death row long here. They got a hankering for blood on this case, and I don’t know how much time I have. I should’ve told you sooner, but after last time, I wasn’t sure. I’m tired of disappointing you, but I don’t have anywhere else to turn. You don’t have to help me, but could you at least come and visit? I don’t want to go to my maker without a chance to tell you I’m sorry. Face-to-face. Sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. Sorry for not being what you wanted me to be. Just once. Please come see me just once.
She’d immediately picked up the phone and dialed the number of the attorney who’d forwarded the letter to her. She’
d asked pointed questions and made copious notes. She hadn’t heard from Eric in three years, since the last time he’d gotten in trouble and took a trip to the penitentiary. She’d sworn then she was done. Done trying to help someone who obviously didn’t want her help. Eric was on his own, sink or swim.
Until this letter, she had kept her vow. The promise of death made her break it now. She’d learned to doubt Eric’s protestations in the past, but she knew in her heart he wasn’t lying now. Didn’t matter if he was. He was her flesh and blood, and he didn’t deserve to die, no matter what he did. Blood still ran strong between them, and she would fight to keep the connection alive.
“If you have quarters, you can use them now.”
The guard’s loud voice startled Serena, but Eric seemed nonplussed. Serena pulled a roll from her purse and showed them to Eric. “Not sure what I’m supposed to do with these.”
“You can go with the guard to buy stuff out of the vending machine. He’ll give it to me. How did you know?”
She mock huffed. “I do my research. I may be the little sister, but I’ve got skills.”
He smiled, not the tentative expression he’d offered when she first showed up, but a genuine, little boy grin. She grinned back. “You still like Hershey’s with almonds?”
“And a Coke. Thanks, sis.”
“My pleasure.”
A few minutes later, she returned to the booth and watched Eric devour the three candy bars she’d purchased. When he finished, she broached the unpleasant subject that hung between them. “Talk to me, but don’t tell me anything confidential.” She’d read about how these visits were taped, and she didn’t want him to tell her anything that could snip the last strings of hope he had to appeal his case. “I want to know where things stand as you understand it. I talked to your attorney, and I have his version.”