Trying to appear busy, he hid his emotion behind his currently blank pad of paper in front of him. He could still hear Jamie’s voice, discussing his initial conversation with her. The change in her tone of voice caught his attention, and he raised his head to meet her steady gaze for the first time. The amount of emotion in her dark, luminous brown eyes took him by surprise. She appeared sad, regretful, and even guilty. Unable to tear his gaze away, he watched in awe as her voice trembled with unreleased emotion while she gave her account of their interaction. She was firm when she recounted Kit’s moments of illness and how he had swung her out of the way. She was convincing as she rehashed how they walked out together. Most importantly, she was believable when she stated firmly that she allowed him to follow her home because she felt he was safe.
Darren nodded approvingly, and then asked her the most important question that was on everyone’s mind. “Ms. Morton, can you say without any hesitation that the man who escorted you home is in this courtroom?”
She nodded. “I can.”
“And can you point out that man?”
“Yes.”
“Will you show us who it was that you met that night?”
She pointed to Andrew. “It’s the defendant, Andrew Sheehan.”
“Can you say without any doubt that Andrew Sheehan is the man that escorted you home that night, Ms. Morton?”
“Yes.”
“How is that? You only met this man for a brief time, and the bar was in semi-darkness.”
Her gaze remained on him intently again, and her voice lowered when she answered. “I know it’s him.”
“How?”
“The scar next to his eye. I remembered the scar because when he smiled at me it glowed.”
A hushed pause, carefully directed by Darren’s theatrical dramatics, fell over the courtroom. Jamie waited for further questions, but Darren was slow to speak. He was allowing her words to sink into the minds of the jury.
For the first time since the trail began, Andrew felt the heat of all eyes upon him. The jury members and the bystanders stared at him intently as though seeing him for the first time. They watched for a reaction, all of them but Jamie, who was still studying Darren closely, and it took all of his strength to not show what he really felt at that moment.
Satisfied, Darren stared at the jury members meaningfully. “I have no further questions at this time.”
Reasonable doubt two.
Chapter 7
The record was noted that the scar on his face - the one that had ended his military career and sent him back to the States with shrapnel trapped in his spine near his sixth cervical vertebra and nearly blind in one eye - was Jamie’s means of identifying him after almost five years and only one brief encounter. He never thought that his injury would come in handy; in fact, he had always seen it as a failure. After his accident, he remembered his doctors in Germany discussing his wound, remarking that it would be “a permanent disability”, and that he was a high risk due to “the foreign bodies left in his carotid sheath and his cervical spine” which were inoperable without the risk of death. They had not listened to his protests and had recommended a medical discharge. He had been sent home, a decorated soldier without a future in the military.
For the first time his misfortune was working in his favor.
Though Darren continued to promote his immaculate record, gentlemanly behavior, and absolute alibi, Jamie still had to complete her cross examination. To her credit, she remained composed as the lead prosecutor came to his feet and introduced himself, and she refused to be baited as he attempted to cast doubt on her recollection. She remained patient while he picked out possible inconsistencies and prudently corrected him if he misinterpreted what she said.
The only time her composure slipped was when he focused on her sudden appearance after all the years that had passed. Sensing a weakness, John Bell directed his line of questioning into her past.
“And if you knew that the man who had been with you that evening had been charged with a crime, why didn’t you come forward with the information then?”
She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know the details of the situation he was in then. I heard from a friend after the fact that he had been charged and was scared at the time.”
“Scared? Why?”
“I thought that I may have been lucky to escape from a possible predator.”
“So you admit that you had enough doubt after the fact and thought it was possible he could have committed the crime?”
“Objection, Your Honor, speculation,” Darren called out.
“I’ll allow it,” the judge replied.
Andrew felt Darren tense up beside him. He began scribbling notes on his pad as he waited for Jamie to answer.
“I didn’t think it was possible, but I didn’t know otherwise either.”
“Yes or no, Ms. Morton.”
She paused, but her eyes never left John’s face. That was a good thing, for if she had allowed her gaze to search out Darren for encouragement it could have reflected poorly on them.
“Yes.”
John nodded triumphantly.
“So you didn’t come forward then because you thought you had escaped from a predator that night?”
“I’ve never been in a situation like that before. I never considered that my information would be needed…”
“Why did you think that?”
“Because I had only communicated with him for a few minutes; I didn’t know him beyond that evening.”
“So you watched the trial from a distance?”
“No. I didn’t watch the trial. I heard about it after the fact and tried to put it behind me.”
“You forgot about Andrew Sheehan?”
“I tried to, yes.”
“Then what had made you come forward now?”
“When I moved back to Arizona, I saw a television program discussing the case and heard that they had looked for me. We had paid in cash that night, so no one was able to locate me or my friends. I had also married and changed my last name. I never knew that they were looking for me at the time.”
“None of your friends mentioned it after hearing it on the news?”
She shook her head. “My family knew nothing about the events of that night. My girlfriends didn’t follow the trial either.”
“So you moved back to Arizona, saw the program on television and immediately came forward?”
“Yes. I would have done so sooner if I had known they were looking for me.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I wanted to do what’s right.”
Good girl, Andrew thought. Too few people would have done the same.
Sensing that he had nowhere else to go, John ended his questioning. Darren returned to his feet.
“Redirect.”
The judge nodded.
Darren came back around the table and approached Jamie with a smile of encouragement. “Jamie, how often do you allow strangers to follow you home?”
Jamie looked bemused at the question. “Not ever, beyond that one occurrence.”
“So that was a one-time experience?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell us why that time was different?”
“I didn’t feel threatened or pressured at the time. I thought he was a nice guy who was being a gentleman by making sure I made it home safely.”
He nodded sagely. “Nothing further.”
Though an expert at maintaining a neutral expression, Andrew felt as though everyone in the courtroom knew how frightened he was at that moment. Busying himself with watching Jamie, who was waiting patiently to be excused, he refused to meet Darren’s hopeful gaze and ignored his lawyer’s triumphant grunt as he sat back down. Behind him, he could hear his grandmother whispering eagerly to her caregiver - words that he could not hear but knew were expressing an “I told you so” to the lady beside her. Everyone seemed to be abuzz with this new information - everyone including him.
Yes, things had become clearer in this trial, but he still refused to dream.
After all, things could still go wrong.
***
Jamie’s knees were shaking, trembling so hard that she was sure everyone in the small room could hear her legs slapping together. She had never been so scared in her life – well, maybe once when she had first heard that Andrew had been charged with murder. Looking at him now, she could almost believe where her fears had come from.
The scar, the one that had set him apart and made it possible for her to identify him without question, seemed larger now that his hair was trimmed short. It extended from the corner of his eye, past his temple and into his dark hairline to the base of his neck. The jagged, raised tissue glared white in the fluorescent lights of the room as a sad reminder of a military career cut short, and she hoped he did not mind that she singled out his injury.
Though their eyes had met several times during her testimony, she had been unable to tell whether he was thankful for her presence or resentful. His face showed no emotion whatsoever, and his mystique bothered her. Though she was not sure why, seeing him now sitting like a silent sentinel brought home the realization that his opinion of her truly mattered, and the thought that he may loathe her for not speaking sooner was a painful consideration.
The judge glanced over at her with a small smile. “You may step down.”
Jamie nodded her head slowly. “Thank you.”
She was reminded that she may be called again and advised that she could remain or leave as she saw fit. Her eyes strayed to Hayden, who had taken up a seat in the back of the courtroom. He nodded sagely as if to say that it was her choice.
Great, she thought.
She was not sure if she had done well or not, and the juror’s faces were not any more forthcoming than the men and women sitting at the lawyer’s table. Taking a shaky breath, she came to her feet and smoothed down her pants to wipe her clammy palms. Knowing that everyone, including the ominous and unfathomable man she came to help, was watching her carefully did not ease her nervousness. Lifting her head as high as she could, she attempted to keep her façade as a confident woman. She strode away from her bench, back toward the tables and chanced one more glance at Andrew. He was observing her intently, his face devoid of any emotion. However, as she passed out of view she almost swore that she saw his head incline her way. Her heart leapt. Was that a nod of gratitude?
There was an elderly lady beaming happily at her in the row designated for individuals with special needs. The white-haired lady confined to a wheelchair had the same pale eyes and delicate features as Andrew, and Jamie concluded that she was the grandmother so often spoken about. Almost embarrassed that she knew this, Jamie found it odd that she was so familiar with his life when she had only met him once and truly did not know him at all. Sending a tentative smile back, she hurried to join Hayden in the back of the room. As soon as they broke for lunch, she would make her escape.
Hayden reached for her clammy hand as soon as she slipped back onto the hard wooden bench. His fingers were warm and dry next to her cool and damp ones, and the strong grip eased her trembling slightly. Their eyes met and he gave her a reassuring nod and wink. Aware that the ecstatic elderly woman was still watching her, she lowered her forehead to Hayden’s shoulder and let out a shuddering breath.
“You did it,” he whispered into her ear.
She nodded against the warm blend of his suit. “Did I do okay?”
“You did great.”
She raised her head and turned back to the proceedings in front of her. Sitting tall and erect not ten yards away was the defendant. Andrew Sheehan had changed a lot from the memory she had of him. Though she had seen a photo of him on the television screen, he appeared much older now. Though still tall, broad shouldered and well-groomed, his face bore the exhaustion of a man who had seen hard times. Oh, he was still handsome, but the dancing gleam she had seen in his eyes and remembered so well was now gone, and his strong jaw was hard with bitterness. That face that had held so much amusement now bore the emotional scars of a man who had seen little laughter in recent times. Had she come too late to save him? Had he already changed as much as Ian and Ford suspected?
Disturbed by what she saw, she continued to wonder for the remainder of the afternoon. Though she was able to make light conversation with Hayden during their lunch, she opted not to return to the courthouse after their meal, preferring instead to head home and close her eyes. Now that everything she had worked for had come to pass, she realized that she was exhausted both mentally and physically. All she wanted was to climb into her soft bed and cuddle with her pillows while she began the jaw-clenching wait for a verdict.
Hayden, astute despite his carefree ways, was aware of her distraction and parted ways with her after lunch with another bear hug and words of encouragement. A thirty minute drive later and she was pulling into the garage of the modest adobe style home she now rented less than a mile from Ford’s. Closing the garage behind her, Jamie made straight for her room to run a bath. While it filled, she went back to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine, ignoring the fact that it was early afternoon. After the day she had, she deserved an afternoon of relaxation.
She wished Andrew had the same opportunity.
Returning to the bathroom, she stripped out of her remaining clothes and sank into the steaming water with a mournful sigh. After adjusting the dial on her radio to the local classical station, she leaned back as the waltz from Tchaikovsky’s “Sleeping Beauty” replaced the low-volume talk. Pushing the button to turn on the jets, she tried to relax while the hot water bubbled around her, massaging her back and thighs.
Allowing her head to fall back on the tub pillow behind her, she sank deeper into the water and closed her eyes. But the buzzing in her mind would not go away. Like a pesky bee, she kept rehashing her testimony, over and over again the scene replayed. Though she was not an expert by any means, she felt as though she had done her job in the best possible way. She remained honest and forthcoming during her questioning, answering everything as she had been told to do.
Now that it was over, she hoped with all her might that it would work out for Andrew. Because of her move to Nevada, the man had suffered. It showed in every line and crease on his face. It showed in his eyes. Those eyes had danced with charm and friendliness when she first met him. Today, they seemed almost lifeless as they took in her presence, very much like Ian’s description of a highly trained Special Forces officer… A man who could kill without blinking an eye.
Gripped with remorse, she shifted uncomfortably in the bath and swore that she would somehow make it up to him if the trial ended well. John Bell had hit her weakest point during his cross-examination. Why had she not come forward sooner? Did she have a legal responsibility to tell the police of what had happened that evening? Did she not come forward because of her shame for doing something reckless in her otherwise so obedient life?
Clay had told her once that change was human nature. People changed as their environments changed. After meeting the cold stare of the man in the courtroom, Jamie had no doubt that Andrew had changed tremendously. She also had little doubt that she had changed as well. After Clay’s words of love had made her toes curl almost as much as his hungry kisses, she had rushed off with a head full of romantic dreams and shattered those of a man in a single evening. Now both of them bore the scars of her actions. Sniffling, Jamie wondered again if Andrew Sheehan could ever forgive her for holding her silence for so long. Could she blame him if he didn’t?
There was only one thing to do, she concluded. She had to make it up to him. If he was truly not guilty, the new jury would find him so and release him. She would do everything she could to help him regain his life. After everything he had been through, it was the least she could do. She just hoped he would accept her help.
Once she began to doze off in the tub, Jamie decided that the water had cooled enough to finish up. The sun had been high in
the sky when she had begun her not-so-relaxing soak, and now it was beginning to creep through the slats of the wooden shutters as it made its descent. She pulled the drain open and listened to the water funnel down for a moment before reaching up and turning off her radio. The quiet time she had spent left her even more lethargic, so she toweled off and climbed under the covers of her soft bed. Her last memory as she hugged her pillow and drifted into a deep slumber was the nod Andrew Sheehan sent her way when she passed.
He had acknowledged her.
The sun was low in the sky when she woke up with a start. Despite the thermostat being set at a comfortable temperature, she was bathed in sweat and her sheets were tangled around her legs uncomfortably. She had left her hair up, and the classy updo was now a tangled mess around her neck, clinging in some spots where her skin was dampest.
Her dreams had been filled with Andrew Sheehan.
The day’s proceedings replayed themselves over and over again like a broken record, making her rest seem more like a never-ending drama. She relived her testimony, and she remembered Andrew scrutinizing her carefully. His face was shuttered, but she knew he listened to every word she spoke. However, even in her dreams she could not determine whether or not he was thankful she had returned, and she woke feeling just as frustrated and concerned.
The chirping of her mobile phone on the nightstand began its cycle, and Jamie reached for it groggily, realizing that it was the incoming call that awoken her so abruptly. Checking the caller ID, she sighed when she realized it was George.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hey. How did it go today?”
Though his voice was warm and cheerful, Jamie did not feel any returning spark. Instead, all she felt was annoyance. Though she wanted to like George the way Hayden had playfully accused her of that morning, she could not see herself falling in love anytime soon with the forty-something single father of two.
“I’m not sure,” she responded truthfully.
“Not sure? Is that good or bad?”
“I don’t really know. I guess it’s up to the jury to decide.”
If We Dare to Dream Page 11
