“Yes, Sir.” I’m trying to swallow whatever moisture is left in my mouth so I’m able to talk normally.
“Great. Tomorrow I’ll give you access to his case files and introduce you to my co-counsel, Steven. You’ll be working directly with us during this investigation. After you sit in with us on the questioning tomorrow, we can get you set up with the research.”
Questioning? Questioning…questioning…
“Questioning?” I can barely make enough sound for the word to come out.
“Yes, Mr. Mason will be here tomorrow for an initial questioning and affidavit development. I want you in there with us while we question him to learn firsthand. It’s sink or swim here, Miss Ackhart. No time to use baby steps.”
How much is that doggie in the window…
No, Dylan. Nod. Respond somehow.
A few moments pass before I’m able to move. I nod my head at him. Underwhelming but it will have to do. At least he’ll know I’m not having an absent seizure.
Mr. Current smiles wide, standing up from his desk and coming around towards me. I stand up and shake his hand as he extends it to me. “I know you’ll do great. No need to be nervous. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I nod again and thank him with the little voice I have left. When I exit the office, I walk as fast as I can to the women’s bathroom. I enter and lock the door behind me, sliding down onto the floor.
Oh my God. Oh my God…
I put my head in my hands. I cannot have a full blown panic attack here. But what am I going to do? Is this seriously happening?
I can’t make heads or tails of what’s going on here. It’s as if fate is forcing us together. I mean, he’s the most famous person in the world. What are the chances that an average, normal girl like me would run into him at all? And I’ve had to cross paths with him twice? I feel like I’m being tried, over and over, to see what I’m going to do when I’m put in front of him. Like I am constantly faced with a horrible decision with no good answer and yet I’m still made to choose.
I stand up from the floor and walk over to the sink. I turn on the water as cold as it will go and splash it on to my face. The water helps shock me out of my impending panic. I look into the mirror before grabbing a towel, watching the water fall down my face. My skin is pale and my pupils dilated. No way am I passing for normal.
I decide I’m going to have to sneak out early and head home. After telling Mr. Schuster I am feeling ill and need to go, I leave and drive home, shaking and nauseous the whole way.
“There are so many things wrong with this situation,” I say to Dr. Spritz. I find myself in her dark office again for an emergency session. Lately, going to therapy is the only thing that seems to help me feel settled and work things out in my head.
She nods. “Indeed. What are some of the problems you see?”
I clear my throat. “Well, he probably doesn’t want to see me. “He’s made it obvious he doesn’t want to talk to me. I’m scared the media is going to recognize me and then I’ll lose my internship, internship, or at the very least lose the opportunity to work in the Homicide division. I’m scared my bosses won’t take me seriously if they know I dated him and they definitely won’t let me stay on the case. And…I, I don’t want to work on a case against him.”
“Why?” she asks, ignoring my other statements.
“Because he’s not guilty. I know he’s not guilty.”
Dr. Sprintz puts her notebook and pen down beside her. She leans in closer to me. “Don’t you think it goes deeper than that?”
I look down. I am embarrassed to say it out loud. “I still love him.”
“And how do you expect to do your job fairly if you love the person you’re trying to convict?”
I shake my head, still too ashamed to make eye contact with her. “I don’t.”
“Maybe you need to start thinking ethically. You need to remove yourself from the case.”
“Don’t you dare remove yourself from that case,” Scott says, grabbing my hand. We’re sitting on the couch drinking a glass of wine. I figured he would need a few glasses after I told him the news. “He’s ruined enough for you already.”
“He hasn’t ruined anything for me, Scott,” I whisper. I’m having a hard time looking at Scott now that I’ve admitted that I’m still in love with Jeremy to my doctor out loud. I guess it’s not exactly a secret to anyone, not even Scott. But I think a lot of people would have expected me to at least have moved on somewhat by now. I’m able to function better now than before, but I still love him just as painfully much.
Scott guffaws at my statement. “You forget I was here after he stopped talking to you. You were a fucking mess.”
“Alright,” I say. I look up at Scott, knowing I have a pathetic look on my face. “Just tell me what to do?”
Scott’s anxiety seems to fade and he leans back on the couch, his eyes assessing me. I know Scott is brilliant and I know he wants the best for me. I’m just so tired. I’m just so confused and scared. I’m just going to do whatever he thinks is best for me.
“We need to dye your hair.”
“Dye my hair?!” I’m appalled. I don’t want to dye my hair. I like my hair. “Why?”
“So it’s harder for the press to recognize you. You’ll be seriously screwed if the press gets wind that you’re Dylan Ackhart.”
I grab my long, blonde locks like a petulant child. “Really?” I say in desperation.
“Would you rather cut it?” Scott says, challenging me.
“No!”
He nods. “Thank God you’re an intern so you won’t be working too close to the case or you’d have to drop it.”
I may have left the part out where Mr. Current told me to sit in on his questioning. I definitely left out that I don’t think it’s ethical to help with the case since I still love Jeremy. But once Scott tells me to go to a drug store and buy brown hair dye, I panic and call Theresa. I put all the other problems on hold for now. I have to figure out how to dye my hair without it being a spotty mess. Theresa is good at that stuff.
Theresa shows up at my door an hour later holding a box of hair dye, and soon after I’m sitting in a chair with the stuff all over my hair, I figure it’s too late now to argue. I’m doing the case.
Theresa and I are standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror as she dries my hair with a hair drier. She looks so radiant and beautiful since she’s been married, like the blissful happiness she feels radiates through her. I sigh. Every time I see her now I’m reminded why so much time goes by in between our get-togethers. I lost the love of my life, and she’s found hers. It so wonderful and I’m so happy for her…but, I’m so hurt. Sometimes I wonder if that makes me a heartless, selfish bitch. Maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that it hurts to be around her sometimes.
I turn my attention towards the mirror when Theresa shuts off the blow drier. “Wow,” she says under her breath. I’m shocked at my reflection. The deep, chestnut brown hair really brings out my fair complexion. I look much less washed out than I did before. My eyes look even more strikingly green, and I thought that wasn’t even possible. Brown hair surprisingly suits me.
“Dylan, wow,” Theresa says again. I smile at her in the mirror.
“Thank you, Theresa.”
She puts her hands on my shoulders and turns me towards her. She looks into my eyes. “You can do this. You’ll probably see him questioned and then you’ll just be working on the files. I doubt you’ll have to see him again. Don’t let anything he says upset you. This is your dream and he’s just some asshole. Okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
She hugs me around the neck, the long sleeves of her baggy sweater wrapping around my face. “Theresa, it’s not that cold. Take this thing off.”
She shrugs. “Shut up, I like it.”
I show Scott my hair and he’s rendered speechless. A sexy smile spreads across his face. When he’s able to speak again he guarantees me no one will be able to recognize
me. I’m flattered by his reaction. Who knew that hair could make that much difference?
That night I’m barely able to sleep. I dream of Jeremy all night and wake up each time in cold, horrible sweats. I haven’t dreamt of him in a long time and the pain the dreams cause my heart is almost unbearable. How am I supposed to handle seeing him tomorrow?
Chapter 5- Clean
I can’t believe how many people are here already as I pull up outside of my office. When I see all the reporters lining the stone stairway leading to the front doors of the building, my hands shake. There’s no real way for me to totally avoid them. Luckily I can go in a side entrance instead of heading up the steps and into the main door where they are all congregating, but I’ll still have to walk past them.
I’m wearing a very plain, black pant suit today with a white blouse underneath. It looks professional, especially with my new, brown hair. I decided to leave my hair down and flowing because I like the new color so much. I thought that wearing a plain suit would help me blend in more. I hope this will let me slide under the radar with the press, but I know damn well Jeremy will recognize me. Maybe they’ll have me behind a two way mirror or something. I chuckle nervously to myself. If only it were that simple.
I throw on a pair of sunglasses even though it’s an overcast day. I need to be able to hide my eyes from the press. Getting out of my car, I grab my bag from the seat and walk with my head down towards the front of the building.
As I pass the first few press members, they all but look right through me. Their attention is focused on the street. I assume they’re looking for a black car that would bring Jeremy. I walk by the bigger group of press but I’m too scared to look up at them to see if they are looking at me instead of the street. When I finally round the side of the building, I realize I’m home free. No one recognized or bothered me.
I hope the rest of the day goes this easily.
I walk through the glass doors and begin to walk through the metal detector. “Excuse me, ma’am…do you have a badge?”
I take my sunglasses off and turn to face the security guard. I look at him and he stares back at me for a silent moment. “Mark, it’s me, Dylan…” They stopped asking for my badge a few days after I started here.
His eyes bulge. “Oh wow, Dylan. Nice hair. I didn’t even recognize you! Please, go on through.”
Score!
“Thanks!” I say happily. I walk down the hallway towards my office, anxious to test my disguise again. I am able to walk through the front doors, down the hallway, and into the homicide unit without anyone recognizing me. I see a few people I’ve known since I started look directly at me and look away again. Every time someone I know doesn’t recognize me, my anxiety fades a little bit more.
I throw my stuff down on a vacant desk and walk to Mr. Current’s door. I greet his secretary, who tells me to go in. I knock on the heavy wood until I hear him yell, “Come in!”
I open the door and close it behind me. When I turn to face him, Mr. Current looks up at me, “Can I help….Dylan?” he says in surprise.
“Hello Mr. Current,” I say, smiling.
“Wow, you look so different. Very nice. Well, take a seat.”
I sit in the chair in front of his desk. I cross my hands in my lap and try not to wring them. My anxiety is starting again knowing my meeting with Jeremy is a short time away.
“So let me give you a rundown on the basics of this case, and then I’ll give you the case file to look through, okay?”
I nod. “Okay,” I half-whisper.
“Seventeen-year-old Evangeline Carter was found in Mr. Mason’s house unresponsive at approximately five in the morning. There had been about fifty to seventy-five people at his house the night prior for a party. She was pronounced dead upon arrival of the EMTs.”
“Who found her?” I asked.
“Mr. Mason was the one who called 911.”
Interesting. That would help in this case.
Mr. Current continued. “She was found just outside Mr. Mason’s bedroom. A number of witnesses at the party said that they saw her and Mr. Mason go up the stairs and she never came down.”
Oh crap.
Mr. Current clears his throat, turning to pull a file out of his cabinet behind his desk. “The autopsy report we got back a few days ago shows the cause of death as a hot dose of heroin. That’s a mixture of heroin and cocaine.”
He places the file down in front of me on his desk. I look down at it and then back up at him. “She was also sexually assaulted. Traces of seamen were found around her pubic area.” He stares into my eyes, his expression serious.
“Okay,” I nod. “I’ll look over the files.”
He smiles at me. “Very good. I’ll let you know when he’s here and we’re ready for questioning.”
I pick up the file and turn, walking out of his office. This doesn’t look good for Jeremy. At all.
I sit down at the empty desk where I had placed my things earlier. I’m almost happy that no one in this department knows me and seems too busy to try to introduce themselves. My mind is barely hanging on by a thread and I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend to be just a normal intern.
I sigh as I look at the file in front of me. My hand shakes as I reach to open it. I turn over the front cover, which reveals a general information sheet on the victim and a picture. She was an extremely beautiful girl: bright blonde hair, blue eyes, and a body that was beyond her seventeen years. I turn the page and see photos of the crime scene. The victim’s lips are blue and her face very pale, but otherwise it looks like she could be sleeping.
The next few pages contain autopsy reports, police reports, and crime scene investigation notes. I stop on the next page when I see Jeremy’s name at the top. It’s his face sheet information, although some information is missing. I’m assuming we’re going to fill in the holes today.
The next page is a list of Jeremy’s arrests, starting from back when he was a teenager. Honestly, I’m a little shocked at his extensive record. The page after contains notes from his parole officer. Apparently, Jeremy hasn’t missed or rescheduled an appointment since the month we broke up. That seems strange to me…I thought he had been using again.
I skip down to the notes from the time when he stopped speaking to me for good. The notes show that at that time, Jeremy had requested that the parole officer stand in the room while he was giving a urine sample. Confused, I flipped through the next few pages of notes until I find his urine tests for the months he’s been on parole since he requested the supervision.
Negative…negative…negative…
Negative! Negative?
So he wasn’t back on drugs? He had been clean this entire time? My mind is racing and I shake my head. Then, why? Why stop talking to me?
The next page shows his breathalyzer tests. He blew all zeros.
The file ended with witness statements from the party that were all the same. Jeremy and the girl were seen talking to each other downstairs for a few minutes. They were seen walking hand in hand up the stairway. None of the witnesses saw her come down again. The next morning she was found dead outside of his bedroom. From a drug he knowingly has a problem with.
I moan and put my head down on the desk with a thump. Could this be any worse for him?
I hear someone clearing their throat above me. I sit up quickly, praying to God it isn’t Mr. Current.
“Hey there. Homicide treating you well already?” Mr. Schuster asks me.
I smile at him. “It’s stressful.” If he only knew.
He nods. “Well, it’s a great experience for you. Don’t be nervous. Just try to learn all you can. I doubt they’re going to push you to do much. You’re an intern after all.”
I try to let his words comfort me a little, even if he doesn’t know the whole story. “I’ll try.”
“He’s here!” I hear someone whispering across the room from us. Everyone turns to each other and begins babbling excitedly. I see the people in the roo
m across the hallway do the same. My heart stops beating in my chest and I have a hard time breathing.
Mr. Shuster pats my back. “It’s okay.”
No, actually. It’s very, VERY much not okay.
I look towards the hallway in anticipation, my face more pale by the moment. I watch the doorway where I expect him to appear.
Finally, I see Jeremy pass by the room. He passes quickly, surrounded by his legal team who are chattering at him. My whole spirit shakes within me the instant I see him. I feel like I’m being woken up from a coma. I didn’t realize how bleak my life had become without him, unknowingly clawing my way through the darkness, until I saw the light again. His presence warms me inside. I resist clasping my chest and shedding tears. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do this.
I’m able to get my breathing under control before Mr. Schuster can notice something is wrong. Or if he does, he is nice enough to not say anything. “Okay, Mr. Schuster,” I say, grabbing a few things from my borrowed desk. “Looks like I’m ready.”
I look up at him and try to appear confident and strong. He looks as if he’s about to say something to me when Mr. Current walks up to us. “He’s here, Dylan. Are you ready to come in?” he says, patting me on the shoulder.
I smile at him and nod, waving to Mr. Shuster as Mr. Current drags me through the room and into the hallway. We walk towards a young man in an expensive suit, he has brown hair and hazel eyes. Mr. Current introduces him as Steven. After a brisk handshake we are on our way. Too quickly we are standing in front of a door. I don’t even have enough time to get my thoughts in order before I’m being led into the room.
My focus is immediately drawn to his bright blue eyes, still as heartbreakingly beautiful as I remember. Jeremy’s concentration seems to be elsewhere, and he doesn’t look up at me right away. In the periphery, I see two men sitting on either side of him. They stand as we enter, and Jeremy stands after them, following suit.
I know it’s only moments before he recognizes me. My hands tremble harder and my breathing becomes more labored. I’m scared I’m going to pass out. But he looks so amazing, better than he did when I was with him. His skin is golden and tan, and his face clean-shaven. His hair is fair and messy. He’s put on more muscle; I can see it in his arms. He’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He’s the most beautiful man I’ll ever see. My heart swells at the thought that he’s here with me again. We’re breathing the same air, confined within the same walls.
Trials (Rock Bottom) Page 4
