The Fallen Angels Book Club
Page 24
“I know the firm, and I’ve known Ed for years.” Mathis shuffled through the pages. “Yes, here’s his letter.”
“Yes, Your Honor, she has—”
“Enough, Mr. Boone. I’d like to hear from Ms. Morgan.”
My heart beat so fast and hard, I was lightheaded. Standing, I walked with a slight limp to the raised bench where Clay stood.
“Good Morning, Your Honor.” I couldn’t stop the tremor in my voice.
“I’m going to be quite honest with you, Ms. Morgan. I don’t like Certificates of Rehabilitation. I don’t like the fact that criminals are allowed to have their pasts ignored while their victims still live with the consequences. You seem to be intelligent … and, according to your support letters, a saint. Clearly, you’re more than what they say. You committed a crime that may not have physically hurt individuals, but it violated a trust. What has changed? Why are you different now? Why should I change my opinion of you?”
Could I make it to the door faster than it would take the guard to catch me? I looked at Clay. He’d told me I might have to make a statement, but my rehearsed speech was nowhere to be found in my memory bank.
Judge Mathis leaned over. “Ms. Morgan, surely as a paralegal you’re sympathetic to a busy court docket. I’d appreciate it if you showed courtesy to the court by making a reply … today.”
“I’m sorry, Your Honor.” I wet my lips. “I’m trying to think of what I could say to reassure you I’m no longer the person who went to prison. Every day I try to not only live a good life but also live a life as far from prison as I can. Every morning when I wake up, and every evening when I go to sleep, I’m so happy to be free. I don’t take anything for granted anymore. I don’t want to miss any opportunity to live my life to the fullest. I haven’t stopped learning, either. Recently, I lost a friend. She was killed. I really didn’t know she was a friend until she was gone. I’ve learned friendship is one of the most valuable gifts life can offer.” I paused.
“I love the law,” I went on. “I want to finish law school. I want to be an attorney. I need this certificate, not for myself, but to prove to society I’ve learned my lesson. I’m not perfect, but I’m not stupid. I’m so sorry there are people out there who I’ve hurt. I’ll never again do anything that would be considered a crime against another person, or against our society. I can’t help those whom I’ve hurt, but I can and will continue to help others. I’m definitely rehabilitated.”
Judge Mathis just looked at me. After a long minute of silence, the judge glanced over at the clock on the wall.
“Mr. Boone, you could take a few summation lessons from your client.” Mathis began putting papers back into a file. Then he held up the last one. “I received a communication from the police department yesterday indicating you were recently considered a suspect in two murders.”
My bouncing heart sank and my throat began to tighten.
Clay Boone jumped up from his seat. “Your Honor, my client was cleared of—”
The judge held up his hand. “Yes, I know, Mr. Boone. That’s here, too. Please sit down.” He looked over at me. “Ms. Morgan, along with the communication was a memo from Detective Michael Faber. He expressed some very strong opinions about your request for a Certificate of Rehabilitation.”
“Oh.” A tear edged out from under my lashes.
“I have heard many cases in my court that were worked on by Detective Faber. He’s rarely wrong in his assessment. He’s an excellent detective and a good man. He highly recommends your petition be awarded, and I’m inclined to do so.” Judge Mathis picked up his gavel and struck it on the small wood block. “Certificate of Rehabilitation is approved and awarded to the petitioner.”
He took off his reading glasses.
“Good luck, Hollis Morgan.”
* * * *
R. Franklin James grew up in the San Francisco East Bay Area and graduated from the University of California at Berkeley. She and her husband currently live in northern California.
The Fallen Angels Book Club is her first novel and the first book in the Hollis Morgan Mystery series.
You can find R. Franklin on the Web at
www.rfranklinjames.com.