First Instinct

by Suzie O'Connell

  Thanks to Beth’s suggestion that he get everything figured out for his costume well in advance of Halloween, it was a cinch to don his grandfather’s combat gear. The perfect fit was a testament to how much Nick took after the Hammond side of his family. He grabbed the helmet and headed back downstairs so Beth could put her finishing touches on him.

  Beth was currently in the process of pinning her hair back in an elegant 1940s-era up-do. For a moment, he was reminded of the day he’d walked in to find her standing in front of her shattered mirror—which had since been replaced—with scissors in her hand, poised to chop off her hair. Shaken by the memory, he twirled one of the locks still hanging loose around his fingers.

  “Have I ever told you how much I love your hair?” he murmured. “I’m so glad you didn’t cut it.”

  “I’m glad you stopped me in time.”

  He stepped back to let her finish, fascinated by the deft movements of her slim fingers. She was done before his mind could comprehend how exactly she’d accomplished the hairstyle, and the result was captivating. He continued to watch as she applied her makeup, and thought that she did so with an artist’s touch despite rarely wearing any. Dressed in the all-white nurse’s uniform her grandmother had worn in Europe during World War II with her lips painted bright red, she looked every bit the part.

  “All right. Your turn,” she said.

  “My turn?”

  “Yep. I’m going to give you some smudges to match the stains on your uniform. Make you look like you were in the trenches. And then we need to make you a sling.”

  “A what?”

  “A sling. You’re supposed to be the wounded soldier, remember? And I’m your nurse.”

  “I spent two weeks in a sling not so long ago, and you want me to do it again?”

  “Yep. At least it’s only for a few hours this time.”

  Smiling, he pressed a kiss to her neck, figuring she wouldn’t be too happy if he messed up her makeup. “Good thing you’re so cute.”

  “That… and your floor beat mine in the hall decorating contest, so you have to humor me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Go sit on the bed.”

  He did as he was told, and sat patiently through her ministrations, feeling a bit like a canvas as she smudged various earth-toned eye shadows and liners around his face. It was pleasant to be the center of her attention, and he found himself leaning into her touches, lulled into a wonderful bliss. She hummed along with the radio while she worked, and he wondered why he’d never realized how beautiful her voice was. When the song ended and the DJ came on to read the local news, she didn’t pause for even a moment, not even when the DJ played a brief clip from an interview with Lawrence Holt that had aired earlier in the week.

  “Of course we’re not going to take a plea bargain,” Trey’s father scoffed. “Why would we take a reduced charge when there’s no chance a jury will find Trey guilty. He didn’t rape that girl.”

  They’d heard it before, so maybe that was why Beth showed no reaction to it now, but Nick watched her for a moment regardless to assure himself it didn’t bother her. As he’d feared, the rape case was all over the newspaper and both the college and Devyn radio stations, and had twice been featured on the Butte news. Nick supposed the fact that Trey was—had been—the star player on the Bulldogs’ football team had a lot to do with it, as did Lawrence’s involvement on several town and county committees. Through it all, Beth had maintained a remarkable composure in public, though he had held her more than once as she cried and told him she didn’t think she could keep going with this.

  “Now for the finishing touch,” she said, interrupting his unpleasant musings.

  She reached into the middle drawer of her nightstand and pulled out what remained of an old white T-shirt that had once been used for some craft project or other of hers and her scissors. Frowning, she lifted her tape recorder out—the one that had fallen behind the nightstand.

  “What?” he asked when she continued to stare at it.

  “The record button is still depressed,” she replied slowly.

  Like a thing possessed, she ransacked the drawer until she found fresh batteries that would fit the device. She popped the old batteries out, put the new ones in, and hesitated.

  “I wonder…. I wonder how much this recorded.”

  Even as curiosity surged, dread exploded. Nick instinctively suspected that he did not want to hear whatever was on that tape, but he couldn’t stop himself from listening. The recording started out innocently enough with Beth explaining to Trey what she wanted him to do for their ad. He searched her face and watched as the color leeched out of it, leaving her frighteningly pale. Knowing what he did, it was difficult to listen to Trey’s compliment of Nick’s taste in women and even Beth’s laughter as Trey kissed and caressed her. As her ex persisted in reminding Beth that she drove him crazy, Nick began to feel queasy. When Trey’s voice turned cold and the first note of fear entered Beth’s, he reached for her and pulled her down onto the bed beside him, needing to hold her and assure himself that she was safe as he listened. Then Trey mentioned Nick, and he almost ran for the trashcan as bile rose in his throat.

  “Watching you dance with Nick tonight….” Trey said. “You really do know how to use that sexy little body of yours.”

  “Nick and I have been dancing together for years now. You know that,” was Beth’s response. “Of course we know how to move well together.”

  “I get the feeling that’s not the only way you know how to move with him.”

  Nick willed himself not to throw up as cold sweat slid between his shoulder blades and shivers of remembered terror coursed through him.

  Trey continued on with the topic, saying, “He’s always hugging you, kissing your cheek… and, wow, the way you two moved together at the Club tonight. Made me hard just watching you. Tell me my eyes are lying to me, Beth.”

  Trey was right, Nick admitted, suddenly understanding what it was to truly hate himself. Even then, there had been something between him and Beth, and as foolish as he knew it was to think it, he couldn’t stop himself for wondering if that had been the thing that tipped Trey over the edge from harmless selfishness to thoughtless violence. He didn’t want to hear any more, but he sat on Beth’s bed, paralyzed. When he heard her whimper, Please, Nick… please hurry, the tears broke free, and he hunched over his legs, balling his hands into fists.

  “I didn’t realize I said that out loud,” Beth murmured.

  The tape continued to play, and they listened in silence. She had inadvertently recorded the entire rape all the way through to when Trey left the room, cursing them both. After that, there was a long silence, so she fast-forwarded through it. Just before the end of the tape, there was more—when she and Nick had returned to her room from the hospital. Not only had the rape been caught on tape, so too had all but the last few words of their conversation with Jeff Opheim.

  “I need to call Hal,” she said abruptly, bouncing to her feet.

  Nick was still too deep in shock to move and remained curled over his knees and taking shallow breaths so he didn’t vomit. He only vaguely heard Beth’s conversation with Hal, but the excitement in her voice soon had him sitting upright again. Confused, he stared at her.

  “Would you mind swinging by the campus on your way home?” she asked. “I have a present for you.”

  After she hung up the phone, she again joined Nick on the bed. The smug satisfaction on her face slowly drew him out of his stupor, though he still couldn’t fathom the reason behind it. Finally, he asked.

  “I didn’t lead him on or encourage him, and I can finally believe now that I did everything I could to stop him.” She laughed and rewound the tape. “I’ll bet Lawrence Holt will be begging for a plea bargain once he finds out about this!”

  “If the judge allows it to be used as evidence,” Nick heard himself say. “Audio recordings are tricky.”

  “Didn’t you hear? Trey knew he was being rec
orded! Come on. Hal will be here in ten minutes, and I need to fix your face.”

  He sat back while she wiped the tears from his face and repaired his smudges. Then she took his hand to help him to his feet, set the helmet on his head, and grinned.

  “You look just like your grandfather did in that photograph hanging on the wall of the staircase in your house,” she remarked. “You make a very handsome soldier, Nick.”

  Hal arrived moments later. “You both look great. Hell, Nick, you even have the facial expression of a war-torn soldier down pat.”

  I’m sure I do, Nick thought.

  “So, where is this present you called about, Beth?”

  She handed him the tape recorder. “Just please, after you listen to it, tell me it will be admissible as evidence.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll see.”

  As another wave of nausea threatened, Nick said, “I can’t listen to it again. Come get me when it’s over.”

  He stepped out of Beth’s room and leaned against the wall, then slid down it and pulled up his knees. Hearing the voices on the tape again, he clamped his hands over his ears and forced himself to think of all the good things that had happened since that night. There were many, he knew, and though it was uncomfortable to admit it, he understood on some level that he and Beth were together because Trey’s horrific act and the events following had stripped away the restrictions that, growing up together, they had assumed were right. What amazing potential had been beneath, Nick marveled.

  Unaware of the passage of time, he was surprised when he felt Beth’s hand rest gently on his back. Looking up, he saw her squatting beside him and beaming triumphantly. He smiled, unable to resist her infectious glow.

  “Hal is almost certain it can be used. But come on, soldier boy. We’re already a couple minutes late.”

  Gradually, as they headed across campus to the gym where Dean Harris and his student helpers were organizing kids and their parents and assigning them to their guides, Nick was able to shed the stubborn memories. Bathed by the glow of Beth’s radiant enthusiasm, it was impossible to wallow in the darkness, and as he watched her with their group of kindergarteners, a welcome and consuming peace settled over him.

  “You amaze me,” he whispered when he had a moment to pull her aside while the little ninjas and princesses and monsters and pirates and witches made their way through the haunted house that had been set up in the attic of Mathews. “Didn’t I say you were the strongest person I know?”

  Before she could respond, one little girl raced out of the haunted house and took her hand, hiding behind her while her mother continued on with her twin brother. Beth knelt down and promised the girl that it was all make-believe. It was a punch to the gut for Nick but an enjoyable one. She was going to be an incredible mother, and he knew that he would be a very lucky man to have her as his wife.

  The question she’d posed to him earlier flitted across his mind, and he smiled. I’m certain I want to marry you, Beth.

  Seventeen

  Beth’s initial reaction when she had learned Friday—two days after Halloween—that the judge would allow the recording of the rape to be used as evidence had been mild surprise and relief. She had hoped it would be allowed, but at least a small part of her had doubted. Then, on Monday, when the county attorney had dropped the charge of misdemeanor assault against Nick with the recording proving beyond a reasonable doubt that he had acted within the parameters of self-defense in coming to Beth’s aid, surprise had turned swiftly into elation. Dean Harris had gleefully reinstated Nick to full academic privileges that day, and Nick had gone back to class for the first time in nearly two months on Tuesday. That evening, they had gone dancing with Sam and Michelle, Nick’s brothers, and June and Aelissm. Now, two days later, Beth still felt the joy of that evening burning brightly in her heart, and it kept the jitters at bay on this, the second and final day of Trey’s trial as she returned to the courtroom and took a seat with Nick and her parents beside her to await the jury’s verdict.

  While everyone else filed back in, she thought of the other emotions she had encountered since Halloween. There was relief and pride that she had been able to take the stand and endure the defense’s notably wandering and pointless questioning. Trey had not held up so well, quickly crumpling from macho bravado during his lawyer’s gentle questioning into a stuttering mess during the county attorney’s cross examination. When he’d finally returned to his seat beside his flustered lawyer, he had looked entirely miserable. Beth glanced at him now and flinched. He knew he was screwed, but the revelation did not bring her the satisfaction she expected it to. Instead, it resulted in perhaps the most shocking emotion that had evolved in the eight days since she’d handed her tape recorder over to Hal.

  Pity.

  No plea bargain had been offered to Trey, and the county attorney, a thin, unimposing man with keen brown eyes that contradicted his outwardly quiet demeanor, had prosecuted the case with a fervor that made Beth believe he was out to make an example of Trey, proving that neither a powerful family nor his place as an athletic star would stand in the way of justice. Aside from whatever sentence the judge decided on, the consequences would follow Trey for the rest of his life. One act, one glitch in his ability to reason between right and wrong would likely cost him what would have been a promising career in the field of personal fitness, or at the very least, make it very difficult for him to gain a foothold.

  There was no way the jury would come back with a not-guilty verdict. The defense had no case against that made by the prosecution. The evidence in the rape exam and on the tape annihilated every argument Trey’s attorney—unsurprisingly one of the best in the state—had made.

  When she recalled Nick’s and her parents’ reactions to hearing the recording, her feeling of pity lessened considerably. Something akin to rage had contorted her father’s face, her mother had sobbed and gripped Beth’s hand so tightly it had ached for almost an hour afterward, and Nick…. The renewed agony in his eyes and inscribed plainly in his face momentarily rekindled her loathing of Trey.

  It’ll be done and over in just a few minutes, she told herself. And there’s no sense in holding on to those feelings. It’s time to let it go so we can move on.

  Fondly, she walked her fingers from her chair to Nick’s, over his thigh to his hand, and curled her hand around his. He turned his head to meet her gaze, smiled reassuringly, and mouthed the words, I love you.

  She squeezed his hand, and when he turned his palm up, she twined her fingers with his. Glancing again at Trey, she let go of her resentment.

  The members of the jury filed back into the courtroom and took their seats in solemn silence. A quiet murmur filled the courtroom, so the judge tapped his gavel and called everyone to order. Beth glanced from the judge to the face of each juror to Trey to her parents and finally to Nick. His expression was even, and only the twitch of the muscle in his jaw gave any indication of the turmoil beneath the surface. Was he on edge like she was, waiting for the words that would bring closure to the most tumultuous two months of their lives? Did his heart leap like hers in anticipation of the days and months and—she hoped—years to come when they would be free to focus on each other?

  The judge cleared his throat, drawing Beth’s attention. “Ladies and gentleman of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”

  “We have, your honor.”

  “Regarding the charge of sexual intercourse without consent, how do you find?”

  “We find the defendant, Trey Lawrence Holt, guilty.”

  At first, Beth felt no different. Then, slowly as the quiet murmurs again began to fill the courtroom, the myriad of emotions she’d experienced throughout the last week returned tenfold. She sat paralyzed by the force of them, barely aware that her mother took her free hand or that her father exclaimed his satisfaction with the verdict until Nick draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. When he kissed the top of her head, she started crying, over
whelmed by the conflicting feelings of relief, gratification, elation, remorse, and pity. Vaguely, she heard the judge announce a sentencing hearing for Monday.

  “It’s over, Beth,” Nick murmured, rising to his feet. He offered her a hand up.

  Half-dazed, she wiped her eyes and took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. Her parents hugged her, and then she and Nick followed them out of the courtroom with Hal and the county attorney on their heels. Outside, reporters from the Butte news, the Devyn radio station, and both the Devyn and Butte newspapers were waiting.

  “Ms. Carlyle! Ms. Carlyle! How do you feel about the verdict?” one reporter shouted. “Are you relieved?”

  “Our client will not be answering questions at this time,” Hal replied. “But we expected the jury to come back with a guilty verdict. The evidence left little room for doubt.”

  “Please, Mr. McInerny, just one question,” the same reporter said. “I just want her response because, for a while in there, it seemed like Mr. Holt would get off without so much as a slap on the wrist.”

  “Beth, do you want to answer that?” Hal asked.

  She shrugged.

  “Are you happy about the verdict?” the reporter asked.

  Frowning, she mulled over the question for a moment before answering. “Not particularly, no. I feel vindicated, certainly, and relieved that it’s all over. But not happy. I wanted to avoid all this,” she said, gesturing around at the crowded lobby, “but Trey gave me no choice. And I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I feel sorry for him.”

  “You venomous bitch! Trey’s life is ruined because of you!”

  Beth didn’t have time to fully turn toward the voice before Claire Holt’s hand connected with her cheek. Her parents moved to intervene, but Nick jumped between them first, pushing Trey’s mother back.

  Holding his hand out defensively, he warned, “Back off, Mrs. Holt. Trey brought this on himself.”