Sentinel - Progression Series 12 'Til Death Do Us Part

by Beth Manz

  Behind him, all hell broke loose as Jim moved in on Merrick, both men shouting, Simon and a suddenly appearing bailiff barely managing to keep them apart.

  Blair pushed himself to his feet, cringing at the pain in his shoulder, and rushed back to his partner. He wedged himself between the two shouting men, knowing that if he didn't get the situation under control, blows would soon be exchanged.

  "Jim!" He put his hands on his partner's chest and forced him backward. "Jim, stop it, man! Stop!"

  Simon and the bailiff did the same with Merrick, physically pulling the man away from the melee.

  But after moving back only two steps, Jim grabbed Blair by the upper arms, his grip painful, and stopped him in his tracks. "This has to end!" he shouted.

  "Not out here!" Blair shot back, staring up at his partner, flinching slightly as Jim's grip tightened. And in that moment, Blair knew he was not getting through to the sentinel. "Look at me, Jim. Look at me!"

  The sentinel did as he was told, turning a cold gaze on Blair.

  "Jim, man, come on. You can't fight this guy," Blair said softly, lowering his voice, using the deep tone that always worked so well on Jim. "He isn't worth it, so just stop."

  Jim was silent for several long moments, his eyes locked with Blair's, his breath coming in sharp gasps. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he relaxed his grip slightly and closed his eyes. A small nod followed. "Okay," he breathed out.

  "You got it under control?"

  Again, Jim nodded. He opened his eyes, gave Blair an embarrassed smile.

  "You all right now?"

  "Yeah," Jim acknowledged. "You?"

  Blair laughed out loud, relief mingling with humor. "Other than the killer grip you've got on me right now, I'm fine."

  Jim released him quickly, his face taking on an expression of contrition. "I'm sorry."

  "It's okay, man. Let's just get inside and get the rest of this trial over with. Sound good?" Blair turned back toward Merrick, but Hannah's father was nowhere in sight.

  "He went back in the courtroom," Simon told him. "Or should I say, I made him go back into the courtroom."

  "Thank you, sir." Jim ran a hand over his face and through his hair. "Thank you both." He dropped down onto one of the benches outside the courtroom. "I can't believe I let him get to me that way." He glanced around warily. "I'm just glad none of the jurors are allowed in the main hallway. That run-in with Merrick would have sealed their opinion of me for sure."

  Blair sat down beside him and leaned in close. "It's all right, man. This case is getting to all of us, not just you." He placed a gentle hand on his partner's arm. "Let's just go into the courtroom and hope we can wrap this up today. Then we can go home and put the whole thing behind us."

  Jim nodded, smiling over at him. "That sounds good to me."

  /

  /

  /

  Over lunch Jim had briefly thought about skipping out on the rest of the trial. After all, he and Sandburg had given their testimony; they had no real reason for sitting in the courtroom for the rest of the proceedings. Except the jury needs to see us here. He glanced at the twelve men and women in the jury box. What are they thinking? There was no way of telling from the blank expressions on their faces. To Jim, most of them looked as tired as he felt.

  Beside him, Blair let out a long breath and rubbed at his shoulder. Jim frowned. It was the third time he'd rubbed at his shoulder since they'd taken their seats. "You okay?" he asked, leaning toward his partner.

  "Yeah, just a little sore. No big deal. But I'll bet if we did a bit of background checking, we'd find that Douglas Merrick played football in his younger days." He winced and then offered Jim a small grin.

  Jim's gaze shifted to Douglas Merrick, anger stiffening his back. Sandburg should press assault charges against that pompous ass. But he knew his partner wouldn't even entertain the thought of taking the man to court. More than anything Blair wanted this to be over with completely, wanted the Merricks out of their lives forever.

  "All rise," the bailiff instructed as the judge re-entered the courtroom and took her seat at the bench.

  Sitting down again on the hard courtroom bench, Jim waited for Reed Reynolds to call Hannah to the stand. This is it, he thought as Reynolds pushed to his feet.

  At the front of the courtroom, Hannah took a seat in the witness box, nervously licking her lips, her wide eyes sweeping quickly over the jury before returning to Reynolds.

  The attorney checked his notes one last time before crossing to his client.

  "Ms. Merrick," Reynolds began, his tone softer than it had been during the entire trial, "you've heard the testimony given regarding the events leading up to your arrest. Do you agree with what the court has been told thus far?"

  Hannah brushed at her hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. "Some of it is accurate," she said softly.

  "Only some?" He glanced toward the jury. "Can you explain what you mean by that?"

  "Philip Kaage was stalking me and Jim and Blair were assigned to protect me from him. All of that is true. But what happened in Berne...what happened after I left Berne...that's all lies."

  "Let's concentrate on that time then," Reynolds suggested. "Why did you go to Berne with Jim Ellison?"

  Hannah dropped her gaze to her lap and demurely shrugged one shoulder. "I asked Jim to go to Berne with me," she admitted softly. "I'd been attracted to him for a long time, long before this case." She glanced up only briefly before looking down again. "It was no secret--I think everyone at the station knew how I felt. But nothing ever sparked between us...until Jim was assigned to protect me." She smiled shyly. "During that time, Jim and I became...close. I made dinner for him, he took me out to eat."

  "So the two of you...connected during that time?" Reed asked, skillfully moving her forward in her testimony.

  "Yes, I thought we had."

  "And you invited him up to Berne for the weekend. Were you looking for romance?"

  "No." She blushed slightly, shaking her head. "I just thought it would be a good opportunity for us to get to know each other better away from the job. But I made it clear to Jim...even to Blair...that it wasn't meant to be a romantic weekend. And at first things were wonderful, but then...then...." She began to cry softly.

  Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her performance. But as he looked at the jury, his heart pounded harder in his chest. One woman was staring at Hannah as if she might cry herself. Another held her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide, unbelieving.

  "Ms. Merrick, do you need a moment?" Reynolds asked, stepping closer to the witness box, his voice dripping with concern.

  Jim turned back to the scene before him. Hannah was dabbing her cheeks with a tissue, her eyes red-rimmed, puffy.

  "No, I'm all right." She sniffed once, wiping delicately at her nose.

  "Can you tell us what happened in Berne?"

  She nodded. "Jim and I had dinner. Afterward, we were sitting in the living room in front of the fireplace. It was wonderful, like something out of a movie. Then Jim said that he knew how I felt about him. He laughed and said everyone at the station knew. Then he said that I'd been wanting him for weeks, giving him signals, and he was more than ready to give me what I wanted. I told him I was attracted to him but that I wasn't ready for.... that yet."

  "'That'?" Reynolds repeated. "What do you mean by 'that'?"

  "Sex," she whispered. "He wanted to have sex."

  In your dreams, lady. Jim crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenched tight. He glared at Hannah but she didn't meet his eyes. In fact, she looked everywhere but at him and he suddenly realized why. It was part of their defense strategy--hers and Reynolds'. It made it seem as if she were afraid of him, afraid of the man who had tried to rape her. I'm playing right into their hands. Instantly, Jim softened his expression, unfolded his arms, tried to look less threatening. But compared to Hannah.... She's a small woman and you're an imposing man. The damage was already done.


  "So when Detective Ellison suggested you have sex," Reynolds continued, "you told him no. Is that correct?"

  Hannah nodded vigorously. "Yes. I refused."

  "What happened when you refused?"

  "He laughed," she answered with a sob. "Then he grabbed me and said that we were all alone and that I had invited him and what did I think he came for? The company?" Another tear slid from her eye. "Somehow I managed to slip away from him and I ran to the kitchen. There was a knife on the counter and I just grabbed it up. I...I didn't want to hurt him. I just wanted to keep him away from me."

  "What, if anything, happened next?"

  "Jim came at me again and said he was going to get what he came for." She bit at her trembling lip and dabbed at her eyes again. "It was like he'd gone wild!"

  "Why doesn't Angela object?" Blair grated out from his place beside Jim.

  "Nothing to object to," Jim said, leaning toward him slightly. "She's just telling her version of events."

  "She's lying through her teeth," Sandburg whispered fiercely. "And she's crucifying you in the process." He looked up at Jim, his face a mask of disbelief. "How is this justice?"

  "It's how the system works," Jim answered softly. "It's based on honesty and Hannah's not honest."

  Blair turned forward again, his eyes dark with anger. "Sucks," he muttered under his breath.

  You got that right, Chief.

  At the front of the courtroom, Reynolds waited until Hannah had composed herself before resuming his questions.

  "Ms. Merrick," he said, sympathy underscoring his words. "Did you attempt to stop Detective Ellison's unwanted advances?"

  She nodded. "I...I had the knife and I...I cut him." She frowned, shaking her head. "I...don't remember much after that. Just waking up in the hospital, Sheriff Dryer there with me." She shook her head again, tears once more trailing down her cheeks. "I didn't want Jim to get in trouble." Her gaze darted to the jury, her eyes softly imploring. "When I visited him in the jail in Berne, I told him that. I told him I was going to drop the charges, that we could just forget it ever happened. I even offered to quit my job at the station so we wouldn't have to face one another on a regular basis."

  "Was Detective Ellison grateful for your generosity?" Reynolds asked with obvious contempt.

  "No," she breathed. "He told me that he was going to fix me. That the charges brought against him had sullied his reputation but that he and his friends at the station would make sure no one ever believed me."

  "What did you do?"

  "I got out of there," she breathed out dramatically. "I was afraid. I wanted to go home and think about what I should do. I was going to call my father." She looked at Douglas Merrick, her eyes wide, frightened. "I was going to ask his advice."

  "Did you ever make that call?"

  "No," she whispered. "When I got home I heard someone in my house...in the closet in my bedroom. So I grabbed the nearest thing I could find and waited for whoever was in there to come out." Her gaze searched for and found...Blair.

  Sandburg straightened in his seat, not turning away from the penetrating gaze she'd locked on him.

  "It was Blair Sandburg," she said, the distaste she felt for him obvious from her tone. "I'd...I'd thought we were friends...until that moment."

  Jim shifted and draped his arm across the back of the bench behind Sandburg, his fingers touching lightly at Blair's shoulder. Hannah's gaze briefly studied the protective posture Jim had taken toward his guide before shifting away. And in that moment, Jim saw the hatred she still harbored for his partner, knew she still saw Blair as nothing more than an obstacle between them...something to be disposed of.

  She has to know that I'll never love her. She has to know that it's not Blair that's standing in the way of a relationship between us.

  But as Jim stared at her, recalled her lies, thought about the anger in her eyes, he knew that she didn't understand any of it. She still wants me. The realization sent a chill through him.

  "Jim? Jim, you okay, man?"

  He jerked his gaze away from Hannah and looked at Blair instead. His guide stared up at him, his brow furrowed with worry.

  "You okay?" he asked again, keeping his voice low. "I thought you were about to zone on me."

  Pulling his arm from around Blair's shoulder, the sentinel reached up and rubbed at his forehead with his hand. He blinked several times to clear his head. Get a grip, Ellison. He had almost zoned--zoned on his aversion toward Hannah.

  Reynolds' voice pounded through his mind, competing with the headache that had begun to throb against his temples.

  "Did you strike Dr. Sandburg?"

  "Yes," Hannah answered. "But I didn't even know it was Blair until he fell at my feet. I...I thought he was a burglar or something."

  "What about this collage they've presented?" Reynolds indicated the photo array that was still displayed on the easel.

  "I didn't make that," she said with obvious disgust. "After I hit Blair, I went into my closet to see what he'd been doing in there. I found that...that thing, the box of evidence, even Jim's sweater." She lowered her voice and spoke so softly that a few people in the jury box actually leaned forward in order to hear her. "I touched it all. I...I didn't know at the time that they'd be used against me. I didn't think Jim or Blair was capable of something like that."

  "While Dr. Sandburg was unconscious, did you tie his hands behind his back?"

  She frowned. "No."

  "Did you hold a knife to his throat?"

  "Of course not."

  "Did you threaten to kill him?"

  "No," she insisted. "I was trying to help him when suddenly Joel Taggert was at my door, pounding on it, demanding to be let in."

  "Who is Joel Taggert?" Reynolds asked.

  "He's another detective in Major Crimes. I thought...I thought maybe he drove Blair to my house, that he was helping him somehow, so I refused to let him in."

  "What did you do?"

  "I didn't know what to do. Everything just seemed to be happening so fast. I wanted to call the police but I thought they'd all be on Jim's side--that they wouldn't believe me. Then...then Jim suddenly showed up. I couldn't believe it! He was supposed to be in jail in Berne!"

  "Where you afraid?"

  "Yes," she blurted out, her voice rushed. "The last time I saw Jim, he threatened me. Now here he was in my house!" She touched at her lips with a trembling hand, shaking her head. "When he saw Blair...there was this look of fury on his face. I don't think he was angry that I'd hurt Blair. I think he was just upset that Blair had been caught putting the evidence in my house."

  "Objection," Angela called out, her voice holding a note of relief that she'd finally found something to protest against. "There is no proof that the evidence was planted."

  "Sustained," the judge agreed.

  "One final question," Reynolds said, his voice self-assured. "When you shot Philip Kaage, were you charged with murder?"

  Hannah shook her head. "No. The police, Jim--they all thanked me. They said I saved Blair's life."

  Reynolds turned toward the jury, raising one eyebrow. "But you're charged with that murder today? When did that change?"

  She leaned in toward the microphone positioned before her and said clearly, "After I accused Detective Ellison of trying to rape me."

  Reynolds nodded solemnly, then turned to Angela and said, "Your witness."

  "No questions," Angela intoned dryly.

  No questions? Jim thought incredulously. Her story has gaps in it big enough to drive a truck through! But Angela sat stiffly in her chair, her eyes trained on the judge.

  "Do you have any other witnesses, Mr. Reynolds?" Judge Harris asked as she flipped through her own paperwork.

  Reed Reynolds took his seat, unbuttoning his tailored jacket as he sat down, his movements unhurried, confident. "No other witnesses are necessary, Your Honor. The defense rests."

  /

  /

  /

  Angela Mason stared down at
the pad of paper in front of her, skimming her notes one final time before standing to present her closing argument to the jury. She'd blown this case. She knew it, she was sure the officers involved knew it, and Reed Reynolds sure as hell knew it. He'd proven that with his arrogant show of calling Hannah Merrick and only Hannah Merrick to the stand. He was so damn confident he would win that he hadn't bothered to put on a case.

  And she'd been so afraid of making the situation worse, that she hadn't even questioned Hannah herself. She knew no matter what she asked, Hannah would only continue to lie...and Angela would probably end up looking as if she were brow beating the young woman in the process. I didn't want that to be the jury's last impression of me.

  She glanced at Jim and Blair as she moved toward the jury box. They sat side by side, Ellison with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression stoic, Sandburg right beside him, his wide eyes taking in every detail, silently conveying his worry.

  When she'd first been assigned this case, she'd thought it would be a simple win. After all, they had Hannah Merrick dead to rights--they'd found incriminating evidence in her home and some of the best cops in Cascade would be testifying against her. Even with the extreme measures the officers had taken to prove Hannah's guilt, Angela had still been confident of a win. There had been avenues she should have taken and didn't, evidence she should have pulled in but hadn't bothered.... Because I underestimated Hannah Merrick.

  Jim and Blair had tried to tell her that Hannah was cunning, that she would stop at nothing to gain her freedom. But she hadn't listened. One look at Hannah Merrick and she had thought the woman was timid, an easy win.

  She'd been wrong--and now they were all going to pay.

  As Angela reached the jury box, she let her thoughtful gaze drift across the men and women there. They stared back, their gazes intent. They wanted to do the right thing, make the right decision. But how can they, based on what they've been told so far?

  "Hannah Merrick wants you to believe she's the victim in all this," Angela began, her voice strong, filled with a confidence she came nowhere close to feeling. "She wants you to believe that Detective Ellison, Dr. Sandburg and Captain Banks conspired against her, risked their careers, their reputations to frame her. Don't.