“Fine, just fine.” Sarcasm in her voice belied her words.
“You don’t sound fine. Talk to me.”
Carrie rolled to her side and propped herself on her elbow. “I’m sick of waiting. Why did Ryan get my hopes up and then leave me hanging? It’s been over a month…almost two and I’m still here.” She knuckled away a tear.
Susanna unwound the terrycloth from her head, bent and let her wet locks hang free. Using her comb, she pulled the teeth through the snarls. “Sweetie, I wish I had an answer for you. All I can advise is don’t give up. Legal issues take time.”
“How can I keep clinging to the hope that Ryan completed what he started? The least he could do is come for another visit and let me know if he’s stalled, given up, or just doesn’t care anymore.”
Her cellmate straightened, her face flushed from hanging upside down, and pushed her hair behind her ears. “Why would he give up on something he seemed so sure he could prove? Maybe he’s just run into a wall and has to find a way around it. Like I said, these things take time.”
Carrie rolled onto her back again and draped her arm across her eyes. “I wish I could feel as positive as you sound. Seth left me hanging without giving me a reason, so why shouldn’t Ryan? They are friends, after all.”
“It’s almost time for rec. You going today or are you gonna stay here and carry on your pity-party?” Frustration tinged Susanna’s voice. “Honestly, Carrie, it doesn’t do any good to fret over your problems. You need to spend time with your friends and find something to laugh about.”
“And just what do I have to laugh about?” She didn’t bother removing her arm.
“Well, let’s see. You survived an attempted stabbing, you found out you have a father and family who care about you, and maybe it’s selfish of me, but I’m happy for every day you’re here because you’re like the sister I never had.”
Carrie sat up, inched to the bed’s edge and dangled her legs over the side. “After spending time with Jet, I know what you mean, and I don’t see that as being selfish. I’ve grown pretty fond of you, too. It looks like you might be stuck with me.” She forced a grin.
“C’mon and go to rec with me. The girls have been asking about you.”
“All right. I’m sick of this cell anyhow.” She slid to the floor. “I once heard a saying, ‘Life is an attitude, have a good one’, maybe I should use that as my mantra. Whadda you think?”
* * * * *
Carrie finished breakfast and put her tray next to the door. She’d never seen the guard who had earlier escorted Susanna to the kitchen, and several other new faces cropped up on swing and graveyard shifts. Ogden had been absent for days, giving the inmates a respite from her nastiness. Vacation maybe? Hopefully a cruise on a boat filled with holes.
Retrieving a piece of paper from the stash Susanna shared with her, Carrie settled down with a magazine on her lap to write a letter to her father. She had barely gotten the salutation down when she caught movement from the corner of her eye.
“Inmate Lang?” The red-headed guard with a severe case of freckles stood outside the cell.
“Yes.”
“Would you please come with me?”
Carrie put her letter aside and stood. “Why? Where are we going?”
Suspicion made Carrie’s short hairs stand on end. It wasn’t visitation day, too early for rec, not shower hour; her shoulders tensed. Was this a set up so Jet could finally achieve what she set out to do?
The guard unlocked the door. “I was instructed to bring you to the booking area. I believe there’s someone there to see you.”
Wary, Carrie slipped on her shoes and exited the cell. Her gaze wandered the hallways and her body readied for defense. There were few people she trusted anymore, and none of them wore uniforms.
Passing through the double doors into the guard’s territory, Carrie’s heart quickened. She dared not get her hopes up, but why else would she be summoned to an area she hadn’t seen since she checked into the joint? Bad memories of her processing and first encounter with Ogden flooded back. Faces of newcomers peered through the glass windows in the holding cells. Were they as frightened as she had been?
“Lang,” the guard pulled her attention from the new inmates. “The conference room, now.” She pointed to a marked door.
Inside, Carrie eyed the handsome man in a three piece suit seated at the long table. She hadn’t even taken time to brush her hair. What must he think?
She chuckled. What could he think? She was an inmate. No one looked good in prison. But who was he?
“Are you Carrie Lang?” His voice was deep and rich.
“Yes, and you are?”
“Stephen Cortland. I’ve been hired to represent you in your retrial.”
Her heart hitched. “Retrial?” She sank onto a chair.
“Yes, Ma’am.” He opened his briefcase, flicked through the papers inside, then pulled one out. “A petition has been filed to reopen your case in order to present new evidence that may affect the previous outcome.”
Finally, the day she’d dreamed of. Could this be real?
“W-who hired you?” She held her breath.
The attorney smiled. “Don’t worry, all the expenses have been covered. I only need your signature on these two forms, consenting to have me represent you, and then I can set a date with the court.”
“I’ll gladly sign anything that will get me out of here, but first, I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Of course, ask away.” He pushed the required paperwork toward her, along with a pen.
“Did Ryan Cullen hire you? The last time he came to see me, he intimated he might have discovered some new information, but he never came back with an update.”
“No, Mr. Cullen did not hire me, but he is responsible for filing the petition with the court. His investigation revealed far more than he expected, and I can only surmise he didn’t return for your own safety.”
“My safety? That doesn’t make sense to me. How could our meeting put me into worse jeopardy than I’m already in?”
“You’ll have to consult with Mr. Cullen about that. I’m your attorney, and I’ll present your case. This won’t be a jury trial; more a judicial hearing to have a judge review the new evidence and decide if your sentence can be overturned.”
“Can you tell me about the new evidence?” She nibbled a ragged cuticle, her hand trembling against her lips.
“I have compiled all the information for the court, but the data is far too extensive to cover in the short time we have. Suffice to say, I believe the evidence supports your innocence. Hopefully, we’ll have time to meet before court convenes and I can give you a better picture of what to expect. What I need from today is your signature so I can proceed.”
Carrie signed the forms and pushed them back to him. “Do you have an idea how long it will take to schedule my retrial?”
“It all depends on the court schedule, but I’ll do my best to get us on the calendar as soon as possible.”
He closed his attaché case, stood and offered his hand. “I’ll be in contact, Miss Lang. Don’t worry, since the petition to hear your case again was approved, you can be sure Mr. Cullen did a great job with his investigation.”
She grasped his offered palm and shook with him. “I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and find out this is all a dream.”
“I know this is a little much to take in all at once, but let me assure you, this is as real as it gets.”
Carrie, her legs trembling, hands shaking, and happy tears brimming, watched her new attorney leave. She couldn’t wait to tell Susanna the good news, but first she had to let the reality soak in. She replayed her conversation with the lawyer. If Ryan hadn’t paid for the attorney, then who? The man who just left wasn’t a public defender. She’d noted the prestigious name of a private law firm on the letterhead atop the forms she signed. It had to be her father who did the hiring.
Her thoughts were interrupted when her escort reapp
eared at the conference room door. “Time to go back to your cell. Please come with me.”
Carrie followed, pondering the polite attitude the guard displayed. Why couldn’t they all be as respectful? No one had used the word ‘please’ since she’d been there. If this wasn’t a dream, it had to be an episode of the Twilight Zone minus Rod Serling.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Can you believe it? I’m getting a new trial.” Carrie sat with her friends in the rec room at their usual table. She’d just shared the whole conversation that took place between her and her new attorney.
“I’m jealous.” Ruthie frowned.
“Me, too,” Di said. “I know we should be happy for you, but I think we’re all going to miss you.”
“Well don’t get upset now. I’m still here. Who knows how long it will take to get everything settled. I promise I’ll write—maybe even come back for a visit. I’ll finally get to see what it’s like on the other side of the glass.” She laughed.
Celia scanned the room and turned her gaze back to the group. “Have you noticed that Jet’s been missing rec this week?”
Helen nodded. “Her friend hasn’t been here either. You know—Carrie’s twin.”
“Evil twin, if you don’t mind.” Carrie chuckled. “Knowing the pull Jet has around here, they’ve probably gone to Tahiti for a vacation.” She narrowed her eyes and massaged her chin. “But now that I think of it...have any of you seen Ogden?”
They all shook their heads.
“I didn’t even see her when I went to meet with the attorney. Wonder what’s going on.”
Susanna emptied a deck of cards from their box and shuffled. “Let’s not analyze why they’re gone, let’s just enjoy their absence.”
“I agree.” Carrie smiled. “Isn’t it nice not to have to watch your back?”
* * * * *
“Are these really necessary?” Carrie stared down at her feet while shackles were clamped around her ankles. Her hands were already cuffed.
“Anyone outside the prison has to be restrained,” the squatting guard answered, while giving the chains a tug to make sure they were secure.
“But I’m going to court. Shouldn’t I at least get to change into my street clothes?” The idea of appearing in public dressed in orange peels and chains seemed unfair.
“I don’t make the rules, Lang. I just enforce them.” The older woman with graying hair stood. “I didn’t get them too tight, did I?”
“No.” Carrie wiggled her wrists, jiggling the chain around her waist. “Are you the guard assigned to me today?”
The woman shook her head. “No, you’ll be going in the company of a deputy sheriff. I believe he’s waiting outside in the sally port.”
Waddling as fast as she could, Carrie followed the matron through the door and into a large garage area where a police cruiser was parked. The woman opened the car’s rear door and motioned for Carrie to get inside. Her stomach churned with excitement and apprehension as she sat first and swiveled her manacled feet into the vehicle. The officer at the wheel waited until the tower opened the sally port door, then drove out into the bright sunlight. He didn’t speak or glance back at her. Carrie glimpsed the reflection of his eyes in the rearview mirror. They looked stern and unfriendly—not the kind who welcomed idle conversation.
The late model car smelled of leather and newness. She relaxed against the seatback and watched the scenery whiz by. Occasionally, occupants in passing cars stared through the window at her. The wonder and sometimes disgust on their faces made her want to shout out her innocence, but she held her tongue.
As she recalled, the trip from Fresno had taken about two hours by prison bus. She’d been in shackles then, too, but not in such a confined space. Her feet and ankles already felt discomfort and the journey had just begun. She swiveled in the seat to give herself more leg room.
Her mind wandered as the farmland along the interstate blurred. She leaned her head against the window, her heart still aching over Seth’s sudden departure. Sure, Ryan had assured her he had taken an active part in a new trial, but why hadn’t he at least let her know he was leaving, and why? Maybe she’d never know.
The air conditioning turned the interior to ice. She embraced herself, shielding her exposed upper arms. As much as she hated, she poked a finger through the screen separating her from the officer, and touched his shoulder. He glanced in the rearview mirror. “What?”
“Could you please turn the air down a little?”
“Sure.” He leaned toward the dashboard and made an adjustment. “Better?”
“Yes, thanks.” She rested her head in the crook between the seat and door and closed her eyes. The soft whir of the tires against the pavement became the center of her focus. Her shoulders sagged, her cuffed hands relaxed, and images of being free and celebrating with Seth filled her mind. His handsome face came closer, and closer. She whisked her tongue across her dried lips in anticipation of a kiss. Her pulse was the only sound she heard.
* * * * *
Someone gave her shoulder a healthy nudge. She opened her eyes wide, realizing she’d dozed off.
“Wake up. We’re here.” The driver was out of the car and at the back door.
Had it been two hours already? She struggled to get her feet back flat on the floor, then leaning to her right, swung her legs toward the officer. “Can you give me a hand, please?”
Without a word, he grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her from the seat.
“Thank you.” She yanked the hem of her shirt to straighten it and adjusted the waistband on her pants. Working with hands fastened together didn’t make it easy. Her gaze locked on the large brick building before her. The Fresno County courthouse was where her nightmare began. Her mouth turned dry.
Taking her by the arm, the officer escorted her through the back door and down a long corridor. Feeling like a penguin waddling, she scrambled to keep up. He stopped outside a door marked, “criminal court holding cell”, and scanned up and down the hall. “We’ll have to wait until someone comes and opens the door. In the meantime, have a seat.” He motioned to the bench that ran along the wall. He sat next to her, running his fingers along the crease in his trouser leg.
Walking toward them, she spied her attorney, Stephen Cortland. Seeing him brought the reality home. Today could either be a reason to celebrate or the end of a dream.
Stephen approached with a smile. “Ms. Lang. Nice to see you again. Are you ready for this?”
“I-I’m not sure. I feel a little green at the moment.” She swallowed hard.
“Nerves will do that to you, but try not to worry. I believe we have a good case to present.”
“I had a zillion questions I wanted to ask you, but now I can’t think of one.”
He laughed. “I’ll be the one asking questions in the courtroom. I intend to put you on the stand.”
She gasped. “That doesn’t help me feel any better. What do you plan to ask me?”
“Too many questions to cover in the short time we have before we begin. Just tell the truth, and answer the questions with a yes or no. If I need you to explain, I’ll ask for more details. You have to trust me, Ms. Lang. I’ve researched your case and I come well-prepared.”
“Is my father going to be here?” She crossed her fingers.
“I’m not sure. I called and gave him the date and time. I guess we’ll see once we get inside.”
Carrie held up her cuffed hands. “Do I have to keep these on?”
Stephen turned to the officer. “Can we free her from her restraints … at least her hands?”
The officer nodded, pulled out his keys and removed the silver bracelets. “Since she’s going in the holding cell, I can take them all off at this point.” He bent and unlocked the chains around her ankles.
She rubbed her wrists. “Thank you. Boy, that feels good.” She rotated her ankles in circles and smiled. “At least I won’t trip getting to the witness stand.”
Her attempt at
a joke did nothing to calm the churning of her stomach.
The holding cell door opened and another deputy peered out. “Carrie Lang?”
“This is Carrie,” Stephen said. He helped her up and steered her toward the door. “See you on the other side. Don’t worry.” He patted her shoulder. “You’ll do fine.”
Inside the small cell, she sat on a bench similar to the one in the hallway. No windows to allow in light, just a bright bulb burning overhead, and block walls that looked all too familiar. Directly across from the door she had entered, another led into the courtroom. She caught a glimpse of the judge’s bench as the deputy who summoned her left. She wrung her hands and waited.
* * * * *
Her butt numb, she stood and paced the confined area. Two steps one way, two steps back. Would they ever call her? It seemed she’d been in the cell for hours. Claustrophobia made breathing difficult. Was it possible to suck all the oxygen out of the room?
She sagged on the bench, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Relax, breathe,” she chanted, drawing in a breath and releasing it slowly. Startled when the door opened, she leapt to her feet. The bailiff pointed to the witness stand.
On her way across the brown tiled floor, Carrie’s heartbeat thundered in her head. Unwilling to lock gazes with the judge, she focused instead on the empty jury box straight ahead. The area looked strange with unfilled chairs, yet brought a feeling of sweet relief. Her peers hadn’t done her justice last time.
She climbed the few steps to the witness box then forced herself to turn and smile at the judge. His face remained emotionless, his eyes cold beneath bushy grey brows. Dark furrows marred his aged cheeks, and loose skin hung over the neck of his robe. His icy demeanor did little to calm her.
Facing forward, she scanned the handful of observers in the pew-like seating. Her father sat three rows from the front. Handsome in a dark blue blazer, crisp white shirt and striped tie, his smile gave her hope. Two rows behind him, she spied Seth. Her heart hitched. He’d come after all. Happy tears misted her eyes, but all feelings of encouragement faded beneath the steely gazes from faces she didn’t recognize. Curiosity gnawed at her. What had already been revealed? What had she missed?
First Degree Innocence Page 18
