Night Prowler Part One

by Samantha Steele

  Things still felt new and jumpy with Evan and me, so it was nice to go on group dates. Took a lot of the pressure off.

  But Mitch and Sam never wanted to go anymore. Sam hardly ever hung out with Cami and I. Hopefully things would change after this was all over.

  I was waiting by the door they’d taken Evan through when the door suddenly opened and my boyfriend walked out, a little flustered looking. He smiled at me and began to reach, but the bailiff grabbed my arm and jerked me into the room before we could touch.

  I was lead to the witness stand and sworn in, looking around the courtroom as I did so. I saw my mom and Evan’s mom in the back and had to use all my self-control not to curse. Evan and I are both rather secretive people who happened to be born to rather gossipy moms.

  “Ms. Dixon, what is your relationship with the defendant?” Mr. Lowe asked.

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  “He’s my boyfriend’s best friend,” I answered, shifting to the edge of my chair to speak into the microphone.

  “And how well do you know him?”

  “I’ve never spoken to him, but Mitch and Evan always speak fondly of him. I’ve only ever heard good things about him.”

  Zac smiled at me, knowing I was trying to butter up the jury.

  “Why don’t you tell us what happened on prom night, the night Ms. Steele was stabbed?”

  “Well, I didn’t see a lot,” I said. “Well, I mean, I saw Zac shoot Jacob…” I stopped because I saw Zac’s face fall. I licked my lips and smiled like I always do when I’m nervous. “Evan and I were in the room next to Mitch and Sam’s.” Another bad line.

  Congratulations, you just succeeded in making the jury think your best friend is a slut. Oh, bonus points, you said you were sharing a room with a guy, too! You’re all sluts!

  “Evan and I heard a lot of ruckus,” I said, closing my eyes to avoid looking at the jury. “We weren’t exactly sure what it was, but it didn’t sound like… well, you know.” I wasn’t sure anyone actually knew I meant, “It didn’t sound like Sam and Mitch were screwing,” but I didn’t really want to say that out loud, either. “Evan opened the door and Mitch and Jacob were rolling on the floor punching each other out. Evan ran over and tried to stop the fight, but Jacob knocked him out. I saw Sam on the bed. She…. She was covered in blood, and there was a knife in her neck. I…. I didn’t know what to do. I just started screaming, sitting her blood. She’s my best friend. I didn’t want to screw it up.” I wasn’t sure if anyone else had gotten emotional, but I started to cry a little. Remembering that night was torture.

  “I thought she was going to die,” I choked before wiping my nose with tissues offered by the judge.

  “No more questions,” Mr. Lowe said, sitting back down.

  “Ms. Dixon,” the prosecutor greeted loudly. She stood up and put her hands on her hips.

  “Hi,” I same lamely, wishing I hadn’t the moment I opened my mouth. She smiled accusingly at me.

  “You never actually saw my client stab Ms. Steele, did you?”

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  Now there’s the million dollar question. I wondered if anyone else had been asked that.

  “Well, no,” I said, my voice shaky. My nose was still stuffy from crying.

  “So, is it possible that Mr. Fastner was not the one to stab Ms. Steele?”

  “No,” I answered with the mental image of slamming my fist on the table.

  “But you didn’t see anything except the attempted murder of Mr. Fastner, correct?”

  “I saw Jacob knock my boyfriend out! Look, Mitch was and still is in love with Sam, there’s no way he would ever hurt her and he never has. Even if Zac had been trying to kill her, Mitch would’ve stopped it. It was Jacob. I never had any doubt about that.” I surprised myself with how firm and almost mean I was sounding.

  “How do you know for sure? You said yourself you don’t know Mr. Bell.”

  “But I know my boyfriend, Evan, and he’s best friends with Zac. He always talks about what a great guy Zac is.” That was kind of a lie, but I’d certainly never heard anything bad about Zac. From anyone, actually. “And I also know Mitch. He loves Sam intensely. He would never hurt her, even if for some crazy reason she wanted him to.”

  “How long have you known your boyfriend, Mr. Cage?”

  Uh oh.

  “We’ve been acquaintances since I first moved here a year and half ago.” I figured that was a truthful answer, however vague the word “acquaintances” was.

  “Yes, but how long have you actually known him? How long have you been in a relationship?”

  “Since April,” I said proudly, sitting up straight. Damn anyone who judged how well I knew my boyfriend. Evan was a good actor, but aggressive behaviors are easy to spot when you’re rolling around on the couch and your boyfriend has his shirt off.

  Oh, I think I was in a swim suit, too. That’s right, I remember him slipping his fingers under my bikini ties but I was impressed

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  because that’s all he did. He didn’t even try to untie them. Evan’s such a sweet guy…

  “Is it possible you don’t really know the real Evan Cage?

  Could Mr. Bell or Mr. Mantel truly have violent tendencies, and just be hiding them?”

  “Objection!” Mr. Lowe shouted, jumping up in the air and startling me. “My client has already had four positive reviews, not including that of the current witness, and has no record of violence. These accusations are based on hearsay from Mr. Fastner.”

  “Sustained,” the judge said, looking at the prosecutor.

  “No more questions,” she said with a sly smile.

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  Zac

  “The prosecution wishes to call Eric North to the stand,”

  the red headed prosecutor said to the judge.

  Shit. We’re fucked. This case is fucked. I’m fucked.

  “Who’s Eric North?” James asked, leaning towards me.

  “I broke his face,” I said quietly. “Literally, I nearly killed him.”

  “I think we might be fucked,” James squeaked, surprising me. You know you’ve got a good lawyer when he tells you the truth – or maybe a really bad lawyer.

  Eric was wheeled into the courtroom and up onto the witness stand. His face was encased in a plaster cast. You couldn’t even tell who he was.

  There was a keyboard in his lap, and I assumed that would be how he would communicate with the court. When he entered, a collective gasp came from the jury.

  “Mr. North,” the prosecutor said sympathetically. “Please, in as few words as you can, tell us what happened to you.”

  There was a few moments pause while Eric typed on his little keyboard. Then a computerized voice said,

  “He broke my face.”

  “Do you know why Mr. Bell attacked you?”

  “No.”

  “Ladies and gentleman of the jury,” the prosecutor began.

  This was the first time the jury had been directly addressed. “Mr.

  Bell is a violent young man. He attacked Mr. North while in the

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  prison yard and broke his maxilla,” the prosecutor gestured with her finger to the bone between her eye socket and upper teeth,

  “completely in half. Mr. North is lucky to be alive. This attack was completely unprovoked and shows how aggressive and dangerous Mr. Bell truly is. Do we really want this boy on our streets? He will be an adult in less than six months. In less than six months this man will be on our streets, endangering our children, unless we act now and do something about it. I hope all of you consider this,” she gestured to Eric, “when you make your decisions.”

  When James didn’t move, the judge asked, “Counselor?

  Do you have any questions for this witness?”

  “No, your honor,” James choked. “We have no questions for this witness.”
>
  We’re fucked.

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  Bryce

  When I entered the courtroom, Zac was extremely pale.

  His lawyer looked as if he’d lost all hope. The prosecution, however, looked pretty damn smug. I wondered what had happened while I was sworn in. The jury looked at me with contempt; whatever had happened before I went in made Zac look really bad.

  “Mr. Hansen,” Mr. Lowe said with a nervous cough. He was standing with a slouch, looking utterly defeated. “What is your relationship with the defendant?”

  “We’re not quite friends, but we have two mutual friends,” I said.

  “You are dating Cami Hooper, ex-girlfriend of Jacob Fastner, correct?”

  “Yes, sir. Since April.”

  “Has anyone ever said anything to you about Mr. Bell that would lead you to believe he was violent? That he might hurt someone?”

  “No, not at all. I’ve only ever heard good things about him.” A few jury members scoffed.

  “If you ever heard Mr. Bell had done something terrible, something he would admit to, what would you think?”

  “You mean like when he shot Jacob? Well, it was a dire situation. Jacob had already stabbed Sam, he was fighting Mitch, he knocked Evan out – we needed help and Zac offered it up. I’m grateful he was there. I mean, Jacob was so into this murder plan

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  he tied up Macy in her car and was probably planning to kill her later. If Zac hadn’t shown up, who knows what would’ve happened.”

  “Thank you. No more questions.”

  The prosecutor stood up, that smug smile still plastered across her face. It was more irritating not knowing why she was so content than it was just seeing her act that way.

  “You don’t really know Mr. Bell, do you?”

  “We’re not close, no.”

  “And you don’t really know Mr. Mantel, either, do you?”

  “I’ve gotten to know him better recently. His girlfriend and my girlfriend are best friends.”

  “Would you trust Mr. Bell or Mr. Mantel with your life?”

  It was a strange question, but I answered promptly and without hesitation. So quickly, in fact, that I barely had a moment to comprehend what she’d asked. I wasn’t sure if I was answering completely in truth, but I knew every good word I could put in for Zac would help.

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “But you don’t know either of them well.”

  “No, but I know them well enough to trust them.”

  “Were you in on the conspiracy? Did you help plot to kill my client?”

  “Objection!” Mr. Lowe screamed, leaping up out of his seat like he’s just been electrocuted. “She is berating my witness!

  There are no points to back up her claim!”

  “Actually, Mr. Lowe, Ms. Port has quite a few points against your client,” the judge said. “But I agree; counselor, let’s keep things polite. Objection sustained.”

  “No more questions,” said Ms. Port.

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  Macy

  I’d showed up to the courthouse a little late. Everyone but Mitch had already testified.

  “I didn’t know you were testifying,” Mitch said in greeting. I took a deep breath, panting from running all the way the courthouse from 5th Avenue. The mall was the only place I could find parking.

  “Well, Jacob did break my nose, knock me out, tie me up, and steal my car.”

  “Is it stealing if you were in the backseat the whole time?” Mitch joked, trying to lighten the mood. I’d never realized he had a good sense of humor before. I’d always been too entranced by his totally gorgeous eyes. But, recently, I’d gotten over him. In fact, I’d gotten over myself.

  “I didn’t offer my keys willingly,” I said, shaking out my hair and sitting next to Mitch on the bench outside the courtroom.

  “I think that’s more kidnapping,” Mitch sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on in there, but it’s bad.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sam came out looking like she’d just found proof of aliens, and it only got worse form there. Whatever happened

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  during Annika’s testimony really shot the case – no one’s come out looking positive since.”

  “Did you talk to anyone?”

  “We’re not allowed to speak after we testify. You know, tip offs or something. We’re all meeting at Evan’s later to discuss it.” Mitch hesitated a moment before adding, “You could come, if you want.”

  It was the nicest thing he’d ever said to me. So nice, in fact, and so unexpected, that I blushed. I’m pretty sure I’ve never blushed in my life. It wasn’t that I liked him anymore (I was certainly over that, and proud of it); it was that I knew he approved of my change. It meant he actually liked the person I was now, and was willing to subject his whole group to me. That shows a lot of trust.

  “I appreciate that, but I don’t know how welcome I’d be,”

  I said, looking away. Mitch pursed his lips in a brush-off expression.

  “Don’t worry about it. Everyone knows the truth. I know you don’t think it’s true, but Sam and her friends are very forgiving. Besides, if it weren’t for you, my girlfriend would be dead. If she doesn’t feel grateful for that, I should probably be sleeping with someone else.”

  “Oh,” I choked, rather shocked to hear him say something like that. Mitch was never the open share-share kinda guy – then again, Evan had been a big fat liar.

  “I don’t mean,” Mitch said quickly, jumping as he realized what he’s just said. “I mean, tonight. Wait no… I mean, sleeping. Like actually sleeping. ‘Cause we haven’t… not that you need to know, it’s just, like, illegal… I just turned eighteen and all… But when we drink –”

  “I don’t care, Mitch,” I interrupted. “I’m not gonna go in there and rat on you.”

  “But we really haven’t,” he said firmly, staring at me intently. “We haven’t.”

  “I believe you,” I said honestly. Mitch wasn’t that type of guy. He wouldn’t risk getting charged for a piece of ass. He never answered any of my advances (even when he was so drunk he

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  couldn’t say “Leave me alone, Macy,” without hiccupping and slurring his words together).

  “Ms. Hawskins?” a woman in a stuffy old suit called.

  “Seriously? I’ve been here for hours,” Mitch groaned.

  “Why’d they even call me in?”

  “I’ll see you tonight,” I said, walking up to the woman and following her to a door. A big muscle-y guy in a police uniform opened it from the other side and dragged me in the courtroom. I assumed he was the bailiff based on what I knew from court TV.

  I was plopped down on the witness stand and sworn in, trying to get a look around the courtroom as I did so. I saw my mom in the back and resisted the urge to wave (but she did give me a reassuring smile). I smiled at Zac and glared at Jacob (who was sitting all curled up like a scared puppy).

  “Ms. Hawskins,” greeted Mr. Lowe, Zac’s rather wimpy looking lawyer. His suit was brown and totally lame, but then again he was a criminal defense lawyer. Zac, on the other hand, was looking rather fashionable in his faded orange jumpsuit and chains. Prison boys were very in at the time.

  “What is your relationship with the defendant?”

  “Well… I guess you’d say we were friends. Not close, but friends,” I answered, crossing my legs and resting my hands on them, trying to look smart and professional.

  “How long have you known each other?”

  “A long time,” I said with a reminiscing smile. “Seventh grade, I think.”

  “In all that time, did you ever get the feeling that Mr. Bell was possibly violent, or even dangerous?”

  “Of course not. Zac’s the wimpiest kid in our grade,” I scoffed, wa
ving the lawyer off with my hand. Then I caught myself and gave Zac an apologetic smile. “What I mean is, Zac’s super cute and harmless. Like a hamster.”

  I could tell Zac didn’t like being compared to a hamster.

  “What about Mr. Fastner? How well did you know him?”

  “Not really at all. I just knew no one really liked him – he was kind of jackass, really. Not a friendly guy,” I tried to use a lot

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  of facial expressions to make my claims more sincere, but I wasn’t sure how well I was doing.

  “Did you ever witness him being bullied?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. But really, South doesn’t have a bullying problem. I never see kids getting bullied. Maybe there’s name-calling, but I’d say that’s about it.

  Nothing serious, if you ask me.”

  “So you don’t think Mr. Fastner was a victim of serious bullying? The kind of bullying that would lead him to kill?”

  “God, no. Definitely not.”

  “Why do you think he attacked you?” Mr. Lowe asked, stopping his pacing to look at me. I was a little taken aback, but not surprised I was asked.

  “I think he just saw it as a good opportunity,” I admitted.

  “I was really upset that night. I was crying and having a breakdown and I think he knew he could overtake me. He also needed a car to get to the Whitmeister. I’m not sure if he planned on killing Sam beforehand or if he just used me as the perfect opportunity, but either way he did make plans. They just might’ve been spur of the moment plans.”

  “Do you think that Mr. Bell, Mr. Hansen, Mr. Cage, or any of the others involved were capable of making such an intricate plan to kill Mr. Fastner? Do you think they’d risk Ms.

  Steele’s life to do so?”

  “Absolutely not, that’s outrageous!” I cried. “I might not know Mitch super well but I know he loves that chick way more than he should at this age. And it’s not creepy kind of love - he’s not obsessed with her. But he wants to spend the rest of his life with her, I know it. He’d never do anything to risk her like that.