by Ann Hunter
She sank against her dresser after pulling out the old picture of she and Angelina. This time she couldn't hold back. She'll never have the chance… never had one to raise that baby.
Tears welled over. Taken from her… God knows why.
Her shoulders shook as she stared at her friend, and realized it wasn't about the mare, or Angie, but suddenly filled with grief again over her own loss. Why? Over and over again. Why, why?
She gulped an ugly cry. I can't go on like this.
"Hills?"
Hillary looked up through blurry eyes to see Cade in the doorway. He rushed to her side and drew her in.
"She never got a chance," Hillary sobbed into his shoulder. Cade clutched her close and stroked her hair. "She never got a chance," Hillary repeated with a choke.
Cade slid the picture from Hillary's grasp. He placed it on top of the dresser and kissed his wife gently. He eased a finger under her chin to bring her eyes to his. "Maybe it's time we gave her that chance."
Hillary swallowed.
Cade continued. "Maybe we can still do right by her."
"All rise," the bailiff called.
Alex stood with everyone in the courtroom as the judge entered.
"The Houston County Court, State of Tennessee, is now in session. The Honorable Judge Parker presiding," said the bailiff.
Alex swore she shrank an inch or two as a white-haired man in black robes ascended the center stand. He towered over the rest of the room, and Alex was sure he would cast a shadow over her from his high place if there was any sunshine left in her world. The plush chair inlaid with brass buttons behind him made a soft 'pooft' when he dropped into it.
"You may be seated," he said in a deep baritone.
The rustle of bodies fluttered through the room as people retook their seats. Judge Parker took a file from the clerk. The venerable man slid half-moon glasses on to his face, and licked his first few fingers. He opened the folder, browsing the a page or two over his hawkish nose.
"Calling the State of Tennessee versus Alexandra Paige Anderson," said Judge Parker. He raised his eyes slightly. "Make your appearances please."
The prosecuting attorney and Mr. Michaels rose.
"I am Mr. Williams," said the prosecuting attorney. "On behalf of the State."
Mr. Michaels cleared his throat. "I am Peter Michaels. I and my colleagues Mr. Abrams, and Mr. Thompson, are here as Counsel for the Defense. The defendant, Alexandra Anderson, is to my right, present in the court room."
The lawyers all sat at two long desks across from the judge. Alex gazed at their own table and wondered who else had sat in this place before. Whose chains had rubbed the polish away, leaving only bare, pulpy wood? Had they stared into the tabletop and seen their reflection, as she did now, wondering who was staring back?
Judge Parker's voice boomed, "Alexandra Anderson, please rise to hear the charge."
Alex took a deep breath and got to her feet, to join Mr. Michaels.
Judge Parker read from the file. "Miss Anderson, you are charged that on the eighteenth day of October you did unlawfully cause the deaths of Vanessa DeGelder and Ashley Valiant, and thereby committed murder in the first degree. At your arraignment, you plead not guilty. Do you wish to amend your plea?"
Alex swallowed the dry, phantom cotton ball in her throat. "No, Your Honor."
The judge glanced to the clerk, then turned back to those in the courtroom. "Before we begin, I would like to remind the members of the jury that in order to render a verdict, the defendant must be proven guilty beyond reasonable doubt. Mr. Williams, if you please."
Mr. Williams, rose, half-bent as he paused to finish studying a stack of his own papers. He straightened and looked the jury dead on. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury." He glanced to the judge. "Your Honor. The State intends to prove beyond reasonable doubt that Alexandra Anderson killed Vanessa DeGelder, and Ashley Valiant. She did so in premeditation and with intention, without regard for human life." Simply stated, the prosecutor sat down again.
"Call your first witness," said the judge.
"We'd like to call Gladys Brown, the dispatcher who took the call from the time of the murder, Your Honor."
Gladys, a plain-looking woman, was sworn in and took the stand. Mr. Williams approached her.
"Gladys, can you tell us what happened the morning of October eighteenth?"
"I was at work when a call came in around seven in the morning. There was a girl on the phone."
"What did she say?"
"She said, 'Ashley's dead.'"
"And what did you say?"
"I tried to get her information. She said her name was Alexandra Anderson, but the rest of her words were unintelligible. I couldn't understand her."
"Then what happened?"
"The line got very quiet. I flagged down a supervisor right away, and we were able to track the call to a residence in Erin, Tennessee. I asked Alexandra to stay on the line with me, but the next thing I heard was a gunshot."
"Anything else?"
"Another voice asking Alexandra what she had done."
"Thank you, Gladys. No further questions."
Judge Parker motioned to Mr. Michaels. "Your witness."
Mr. Michaels crossed to Gladys. "Ms. Brown, do you see the girl who made the call in this room? Can you point her out for me?"
The woman's eyes searched the room and settled on Alex. "I assume she's the girl sitting at the defendant's table."
"You assume?"
Gladys nodded.
"Ms. Brown, can you tell me how long you've been a dispatcher?"
"At least ten years."
"And in that ten years, have you ever made any other assumptions regarding someone's death or the guilty party when you could not see who was on the other end of the line?"
"No."
"In ten years, did you ever assume to know everything going on in a room the caller called from?"
"No."
"But you just now decided, after ten years of service, that you can see through a phone and testify to what you saw on the other end of the line?"
"I— "
"She could be anyone, Ms. Brown. Couldn't she? She could be a daughter, sister, or niece. But you assumed she's a murderer, right? You don't know anything, do you?"
"But— "
"No further questions."
Judge Parker looked at the prosecutor. "Anything further, or may the witness be excused?"
"Yes, Your Honor. We ask to enter the recorded call as evidence." Mr. Williams fixed his eyes sharply on Alex. "You will hear that this girl recklessly and wantonly ended the life of at least one of the victims while on the phone."
Alex cringed as the tape began playing. The hair on her arms stood on end. It was eerie to hear herself.
"Houston County Nine-One-One. What is the manner of your emergency?"
"Ashley's dead."
"Calm down, sweetheart. What's your address?"
Alex's words in the call were muddled.
"Stay on the line with me honey. Who else is there with you? What's your name?" the dispatcher asked.
"Alexandra Anderson."
"Is anyone else there?"
Silence.
"Are you still on the line?" the dispatcher buzzed.
The silence thickened.
The dispatcher's voice crackled. "Alexandra? Are you still on the line?"
A woman screamed, the line clattered as though the phone had been dropped. The sound of a gun firing erupted over the line.
A moment later, another voice spoke faintly from the background of the call. "Alex, what have you done?"
Alex's eyes trailed to Mr. Michaels's face. The color drained from his cheeks as he covered his mouth, pulling on his lower lip, with a deep breath.
She knew he'd heard the call before while preparing for the trial, but she thought he might have the same sinking feeling she did. That they'd been sucker-punched by this particular evidence.
The prosecuting attorney add
ressed the dispatcher on the stand. "Ma'am, is that your voice on the recording?"
"Yes, sir."
"And is that recording as it was recorded the day in question?"
"Yes, sir."
"Has it been altered or changed in any way? Is it a true and accurate record of the 911 call you participated with?"
"Yes."
"Your Honor, the State moves to admit Exhibit A into evidence."
Judge Parker looked over at Mr. Michaels who rubbed his face with a bald face lie of, "No objection, Your Honor."
"Admitted," said the judge. "Call your next witness, Mr. Williams."
"Your Honor, the State would like to call Carrigan Skinner."
Judge Parker readjusted his body in his seat. "Earlier today in chambers, the attorneys interviewed another witness. Due to her age, it was recorded for you to listen to, but the witness is present. Bailiff, could you please escort her in?"
Alex turned as the doors of the courtroom opened and her foster sibling Carrie walked in, head hung, avoiding eye contact.
Alex caught the girl side glancing at her guiltily. When Carrie took the stand she looked at Alex and frowned 'I'm sorry'.
Judge Parker pushed his half-moon spectacles up his wide nose. "Please play the recording."
Alex recognized Mr. Williams's voice as the first to speak as they played back the interview. "Carrie, can you tell me where you were on the morning of October eighteenth around seven a.m.?"
"I was home with my foster siblings, sleeping. There was a rain storm. I remember, because I love rain and always sleep really good when it rains."
"What woke you up?"
"A gunshot, but I thought it was thunder at first."
"What's the first thing you saw when you woke up?"
"I saw Alex getting out of bed and going upstairs. There was lightning, and more thunder. We were all awake at that point. Then we heard yelling and, like, someone fighting. Another gunshot. I noticed Ashley was missing."
"Ashley?"
"She's one of our foster siblings."
"Go on."
"So I told the others to stay where they were. I'm the oldest, so I felt it was my responsibility to make sure Alex and Ashley were okay."
"What did you do?"
"I went upstairs, and…"
There was a long pause.
"And what?"
The quiet continued.
Judge Parker's voice came through on the recording. "Need I remind you that you are under oath?"
Alex felt her own lips and throat dry out as Carrie's sounded on the recording.
"I found Ashley's body."
"She was dead?" asked Mr. Williams.
"Yes. There was blood on the floor, and Alex's footprint," Carrie replied.
"In blood?"
"Yes, in blood."
"How do you know it was hers?"
"It was too small to be DeGelder's."
"What did you see next?"
"Wait."
A momentary pause. "Yes?" asked Mr. Williams.
Carrie took a deep breath. "I know in my heart Alex would never hurt Ashley."
"Has she ever hurt anyone in the past?"
Carrie was hesitant. "Yes."
"So she's known to be violent."
"She got into rumbles with Jess all the time."
"Jess?"
"Jessica. She's one of our new foster siblings. From New York. She was constantly fighting with Alex. It's like she wanted to be the boss of everyone. Like she had something to prove. Alex always kept her in her place though."
"Are you saying Alex is controlling? That she wants dominance?"
"Alex was definitely the boss. As a foster kid, it's hard to have control over anything. Being able to be the alpha made her feel like she had control of something, I guess."
"You make it sound like you were a pack of dogs."
Carrie laughed nervously. "That wouldn't be very far from the truth. Things just work better that way, when you know your place."
"Did Alex know her place? Did she respect authority?"
"Not really. She ran away from every foster home she went to. Always ended back up at our place."
"Your place?"
"Our foster home."
"So she ran away a lot."
"No. She ran to. Always to Ashley. They were inseparable."
"Yet you found Ashley dead with Alex's bloody footprints leading away from her. To where?"
"The storage room."
"Did you go in?"
"I was scared. I heard Alex on the phone. I couldn't understand her. I peeked in and watched her shoot DeGelder."
The recording stopped. The room remained silent until the prosecuting attorney smirked. "The State rests."
Mr. Michaels rose slowly. His fingers pressed into the table beneath arched palms. He stared at the open file before him a long time, then looked at the judge. "Your Honor, I request a recess at this time."
Judge Parker leaned forward. "I think that would be in all of our best interests. I'm allowing a one hour break." His gavel whacked against the sounding block.
Mr. Michaels's eyes drilled into Alex. His mouth was drawn. "We need to talk."
HER SAVING GRACE
Mr. Michaels took her into a quiet office with only a desk, a couple of chairs, a grandfather clock, and some art on the walls. Mr. Michaels shut the door so softly, Alex wasn't sure if it had closed at all. He leaned against the door.
"This is it, kid. I got nothing." He brought a fist down on the door. His brow creased and he loosened his tie. "It's looking pretty bad out there, and if you don't say something right now…" His eyes fixed on her. "If you don't give me more concrete details than what I was told by North and the Showmans before the arraignment… I can't save you."
Alex sank into one of the chairs. Mr. Michaels crossed to her, bracing himself on the arms, right in her face.
"On pain of death, this is your moment. Spill."
Alex leaned back and folded her arms over her chest. "What do you want me to say? That I'm innocent?"
Mr. Michaels's face scrunched, teeth gritted, as though he wanted to curse very badly. He straightened and ran his hands through his hair, turning his back to her. He stood stock still for a moment, then burst suddenly, kicking the desk so hard that it scooted several inches across the floor. He rounded.
"Yes, dammit. I want you to say you're innocent." He took a deep breath, righting the desk. He cranked his chin to one side, and pulled at the collar of his dress shirt. "You've got to give me something to work with to pull this off. Anything."
Alex watched the pendulum on the clock in the corner swing.
Mr. Michaels sighed and collapsed into the chair across from her. He rested his right leg on his left knee and folded his hands in his lap. "We've got an hour."
Alex stared at the clock, in silence, for forty-five minutes. What was she supposed to say? Carrie already said that she'd never hurt Ashley, and that was true. She was innocent of that. But DeGelder… If she had known how that woman would treat the other foster kids, she would eagerly shoot her again, and sooner.
Mr. Michaels rocketed himself out of his chair and moved to the door, ready to leave, cursing under his breath.
"I loved her," Alex finally said. Mr. Michaels's hand paused just above the door handle. Each of Alex's words came slowly. "I loved her so much."
"You loved Ashley, didn't you?"
Alex nodded. "I would never, ever hurt her."
"Why is she dead?"
Alex licked her lips. "DeGelder." She shut her eyes, flinching at the memory of the woman in the hallway, ready to pull the trigger on both of the girls. "Something happened in her over the years. Something that makes a person go wrong. I don't know what. But I had to get back to that house every time I left it. Not just for Ashley, but for all of the girls." Alex opened her eyes, jaw set. "I needed to protect them. From her."
Mr. Michaels glanced at the clock and sat back down. Alex looked over her shoulder to see w
hat time it was, but the attorney shook his head, speaking gently. "Just keep talking."
"There was a storm that night, just like Carrie said. Both Ash and I, we were on edge. She got up to go to the bathroom. I thought it was thunder I heard next, but it wasn't quite the same sound. So I got up. I told Carrie to watch the others."
"And you went upstairs."
Alex nodded.
"Keep going."
"And I found her, and she was bleeding." Alex winced. Her stomach pushed acid ick into her throat. "And she… she died in my arms."
He must have seen the pain on her face, because her squeezed her hand. "I know this is hard for you."
She shook her head, pushing his hand away. The words came faster now, like she couldn't stop them. Like water no longer dammed. "And there was DeGelder. And she said she had four more bullets. One for each of us." Alex's grip tightened on the arms of the chair. "I couldn't let her use them. Not on my friends. So I laid Ashley down and ran at her."
Mr. Michaels glanced at the clock again, fingers drumming on his own chair's arms.
Alex tried to swallow, but her throat was so dry it felt stuck. "She fired at me, but she missed. I took her down in the storage room. We fought. I had to get the gun away from her. Another shot went off, and finally I wrenched her wrist and pointed the barrel at her head." Alex looked down. "She dared me to pull the trigger. Said life's not worth living. Told me…"
Mr. Michaels leaned forward in his seat. "Told you what?"
Alex raised her eyes to his. "Told me no one would ever want me or love me."
"And did you pull the trigger?"
"No. What she said changed my heart. I didn't want to be like her. Unwanted. Unloved."
"So what happened?"
"I knocked her out and stole her phone. Called nine-one-one."
"Why was the end of that call so quiet? Why was there a gunshot?"
Alex sat straight up. "She woke up. Came at me. There was one bullet left. I knew she'd hurt me. I knew she'd hurt my friends. So I shot her."
Mr. Michaels cupped his mouth, but it did nothing to hide the grin that smothered his face, like Alex's confession was the most delicious thing he'd ever heard. He rose quickly and moved to the door, pausing only briefly to point at her. "Stay there. Don't move. I'll be right back."
