A Kiss Revealed

by Frances Hoelsema

  Jonathan stepped back and opened his arms wide. “Many people use potassium chloride as a water softener. Many women have the same lipstick color and brand.”

  There were a couple of sighs.

  He continued anyway. “You see, there is no actual proof, no witnesses, to say with one hundred percent certainty that my client is The Margaret Killer.” Nodding slowly, he added, “Sure, it looks bad. There are a lot of coincidences. My client’s middle name being Margaret really puts the nail in the coffin. I get it. I really do.”

  Putting his pointer finger in the air again, he enunciated slowly, “But there is no proof.”

  Though this point was valid, he knew he would have to pull out the big guns to really convince them. And the way a couple of people were shuffling in their seats, especially the woman in a red sweater who looked fed up, he had to bring them out sooner than later. Good thing he came packing!

  “Now what I do have is reasonable doubt.” Looking in the crowd, his eyes landed on a tall, bald man. “I’d like to call the coroner, Mr. Brandon Sparks, up to the stand.”

  Everyone’s eyes landed on him, watching him make his way to the front of the courtroom. He took a seat, straightening his blue tie.

  Jonathan Miller asked him to clarify the dates and times that all seven people had died. He emphasized that he did not want when they were found dead, but when they were estimated to have actually died. When all was shared, he thanked the coroner, who then made his way back to his original seat.

  Addressing the jury, Mr. Miller stated, “I’d like to present image number one.” It was an enlarged picture of a bar graph.

  The jury seemed confused, but he was more than ready to explain what this picture indicated.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is a picture taken directly from Ms. Keaton’s phone.”

  He took a glance in Laura’s direction. Her mouth hung open in surprise, yet her eyes squinted, confused on why he even had this. He smiled at her, reassuring her.

  Looking back at the jury, he carried on. “Ms. Keaton used an app for exercise and fitness purposes. What you can see from this bar graph is the higher the bar, the more her body is exerting itself.” Seeing as many were confused, he rephrased it in layman’s terms. “Basically, the higher the bar, the more you’re moving. You cannot be sleeping and see a bar.”

  Turning to the picture, he pointed at an example. “This is two in the morning. Nothing. No bar. She was sleeping.” Pointing to another example, he said, “And this bar is high. It was in the afternoon. This height indicates she was brisk walking or running.”

  The woman in a red sweater looked intrigued. The other members of the jury held their gaze. He knew he had them.

  “Why I share this is because Mr. Sparks just told us the dates and times each death was estimated to occur. The one I want to point out is Sammy Jo Brevelin’s death. He was estimated to die around 3:36 p.m.”

  Jonathan walked to the chart and pointed at a bar towards the middle of the page. “This right here is 3:35 p.m. the day he died.”

  Small gasps filled the air. It made him smile in pleasure. They were getting it!

  “As you can see, she was doing some extensive exercise such as running.” To clarify, he added, “There’s no way a needle prick to the neck would cause this much exertion.”

  Once again, he looked over at his client. Laura was flabbergasted. Her face lit up. He would dare say she found her hope.

  But the jury was another story. Their faces exhibited hesitation. Good thing he wasn’t done.

  “Now I know you could argue that she was putting up a fight. I’d dare say a fight wouldn’t cause this much of a rise, but maybe it did. If that alone isn’t enough to convince you of reasonable doubt, I want to focus your attention to this screen.”

  The room went silent as a video began to play. One juror after another began to gasp when they realized what they were seeing.

  A muffled shriek came from his section of the courtroom. His client loudly whispered, “That’s me!”

  Jonathan looked at her with a huge smile. She mouthed her gratitude. Right after, she covered her mouth, a tear trickling down one cheek.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if this wasn’t obvious enough, this is a video of the very date and time Sammy Jo was murdered. As you can see, Laura wasn’t even at his place. She was here, running the streets, consistent with what the bar graph from her phone app showed. She could not have murdered her neighbor.”

  There was a brief pause that Jonathan Miller added for effect. Then with certainty, he finished with, “And if she didn’t murder Sammy Jo, she didn’t murder any of them. My client, Ms. Keaton, is not The Margaret Killer!”

  The courtroom was buzzing aloud.

  Judge Robertson banged on his gavel. “Order. Order!”

  It took a moment, but eventually it quieted down.

  Mr. Miller waited until he got the go ahead from the judge. “It’s true there is a lot against Ms. Keaton. But, as you can see, this proves she’s innocent.” He nodded once at the jury. “Thank you.”

  He strode toward his side of the room, taking a seat behind the table.

  Laura nudged him. “How did you figure this out?”

  “I got a silent tip last night at the office,” he whispered. “I know you couldn’t remember the exact time you were out jogging the day Sammy died, but the anonymous tip knew the footage and app on your phone would. And I’m glad it worked out, but in all honesty, if the detective was doing his job, it would have never come to this in the first place.”

  “I can’t believe I forgot about the app.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. Like I said, it worked out.”

  Everyone’s attention went to the front of the room as Judge Robertson banged his gavel once more. He informed everyone that court would adjourn for the day. Tomorrow would be the closing arguments, and then the jury would get the chance to decide Laura’s fate.

  * * *

  Garrett walked into the living room with a tray of pasta. He noticed his girlfriend, Marissa, relaxed on the end of the couch, her feet up on the coffee table. She pulled a strand of her mocha-colored hair behind her ear, and then got busy typing away again. She was completely in her own zone.

  “I’ve brought something for you to eat.” He set it down and took a seat next to her.

  “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” Her eyes were glued to her computer screen.

  Garrett leaned forward and folded his hands. “Worried about tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Her response was quiet and cold. Garrett tried to figure out how to navigate the situation.

  She sighed. Glancing his way, she added, “What if it doesn’t go well?”

  In his most relaxed, confident tone, he replied, “It should. You have nothing to worry about.” He looked at her. She was staring at her screen, thinking. “Are you going to be there?”

  “Not right away, but I plan on being there at some point, yes.”

  Garrett heard the clicking of her fingers hitting the keys on the keyboard. Marissa was good at distracting her mind with work. With nothing more to say, he figured he’d leave her at it. “Well, I’m going to go to work.” He stood up and kissed her forehead.

  Her eyes lifted and locked on with his.

  “Don’t worry,” he reiterated. “We’ll win. You’ll see.”

  Marissa’s lips curled slightly in one corner. He smiled back.

  As he walked out the door, the clicking continued.

  Chapter 7

  B

  illy Hardewick, the foreman, sat down at one end of a long, square table. He was joined by the other eleven jurors, most of which were making small talk at this point. Billy hadn’t said a word yet. Instead, he sat back in what must have been the most uncomfortable chair he had ever sat in and unbuttoned his collar for a more relaxed feel, all while observing who his peers were.

  If truth were to be told, Billy didn’t want to be here. Who would? Who woke up in the morning
begging to be a juror? Not him. But somehow this right had come upon him three times. Three times! And he was only in his mid-30s! Now if he could just win the lottery, he’d be all set! How does one get elected three separate times in their life? He had no clue. All he knew was that he wasn’t into how the whole justice system worked. And he had no desire whatsoever to serve. Each time he tried getting out of it. He had commitments and stories drawn up that were so profound, yet he was never excused. In fact, this time around, the judge did the opposite and made him foreman.

  And this case was tough, too. Not because of who was involved or because of what it was about, but because of when it was taking place. Billy Hardewick was an accountant, and with tax season rearing its ugly head, there was no way he could afford to take time away from work.

  That’s what he was thinking about as those around him mumbled about this and that. His heart just wasn’t into this case. He didn’t want to be here.

  The room got quiet all of the sudden. Billy didn’t notice at first. But when the woman in a red sweater, Shirley, cleared her throat, he looked. All eyes were on him.

  “Well?” Shirley blurted.

  Sitting up a little straighter, he apologized. He wasn’t sure what he was really supposed to do. But he did know they had to vote. The quicker they all agreed, the quicker they could all get out of this small room. “How about we just all take a vote?”

  Different words of agreement were said among the room. Billy was glad that everyone seemed easy to deal with. It made his job a little better.

  “How many of you believe Ms. Keaton is guilty of being The Margaret Killer?”

  More hands raised than he anticipated. They had all just come from the same courtroom, hadn’t they? Didn’t they all see and hear the same things? He opened a notepad and jotted down the number of hands.

  “Okay. And how many of you find her not guilty?”

  He raised his hand with some others. Counting them, he put the number next to the first one. They were equally divided.

  Billy ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair, sighing. How was he supposed to get half of the room to see it the way the other half did? One of his worst fears began to be realized in front of him. This was going to be a long process.

  “How can you say she’s not guilty?” Shirley asked.

  A few people were stunned at her question, that she would speak up so boldly. All Billy could think about was why she wasn’t selected to lead these people.

  Looking at her, he said, “That’s a good question. Why don’t some of us explain the reason we voted the way we did? Maybe we can persuade the others?”

  Shirley offered to go first. Naturally. Her bottom line was there was no way Laura Keaton could be innocent. Although the video and chart Mr. Miller showed were compelling, she believed they could have been doctored, making the prosecutor’s evidence much stronger.

  Billy had a feeling she was going to be a hard one to persuade. But the more she rambled, perhaps he would be the one persuaded.

  Some other jurors agreed to share their reasons. A couple of them completely agreed with Shirley. They were confident Laura was the guilty one, especially since no other deaths had taken place since her imprisonment. Two people offered to share why she had to be innocent. Their reasoning was that a lawyer would never doctor evidence.

  At this point no one said anything. Almost everyone was done sharing. Billy decided to get another vote. He raised an eyebrow, noticing a couple of people had changed sides. But it wasn’t good enough. He wanted everyone to be on the same page. He thought of what to do next.

  But Shirley piped up, verbally attacking the man across from her in a navy suit. In turn, the man yelled. A few others joined in. Before Billy knew it, the whole table was in an uproar.

  Thank goodness he knew how to whistle loudly! He blew the air through his lips so hard, there was instant quiet. Again, all eyes were on him.

  “Thank you! Now just because we don’t agree yet, it doesn’t mean we attack anyone. Let’s do this civilly. And quickly, might I add.”

  A few people chuckled.

  “This could all be over if you all saw it as it is,” Shirley complained. She threw her back to her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

  Billy raised a hand to hush the woman. “A person’s life is at stake. We shouldn’t be so quick to condemn her.”

  “But other people –”

  “Ah, ah, ah,” Billy said, wagging a finger. “Let me finish.” When everyone gave him his attention, he said, “Other people’s lives are at stake as well. If we let her go and she is The Margaret Killer, more will die. So, basically, what I’m trying to say is we need to be careful. Let’s not turn against each other. Let’s hear us all out.”

  The woman huffed, but at least said nothing further.

  Billy Hardewick looked over at the woman sitting opposite him. “You haven’t said anything yet. Can you share your thoughts?”

  She looked like she wanted to be there as much as he did, the way she kept quiet and her eyes kept roaming to other parts of the room. Her mind was definitely elsewhere. But if this jury was going to get anywhere, everyone had to get involved.

  “I guess.” She cleared her throat and quickly told those in the room why she felt Laura was not guilty.

  “Thank you,” Billy replied. “Who else haven’t we heard from yet?”

  An older man raised his hand. Without a go-ahead, he just explained why he voted how he did.

  There was more silence, to which Billy thought it would be a great idea to take another vote. With people switching sides, they were getting closer to a unanimous vote. That was good. But there were still a couple of jury members that needed convincing.

  “Why don’t you tell us why you’re voting the way you are, foreman?” Shirley blurted out.

  Others voiced their agreement.

  “That’s fine. I have no problem with it.” He stared at nothing in particular, trying to navigate how he wanted to say what he wanted to say. Finally, it was figured out. “I have to admit that I don’t want to be here. Being on a jury is not something I ever want to do, but this is my third time doing it.”

  Many members raised their eyebrows at his confession.

  “This case is definitely the most interesting.” He chuckled.

  A couple of others did as well.

  Taking a deep breath, he said, “And after listening to the prosecution, I had my mind made up. With all the evidence against Ms. Keaton, all I could see was guilty. But…” he drew the word out before continuing, thinking about how to explain his change of heart. “I guess I would just say that the defense shocked me. I didn’t see it coming, and it really makes it difficult to figure out which is right and which is wrong. So I have to vote based on what my conscience tells me.” Before anyone else could say a word, he quickly ended with, “And I just want us all to agree so we can get this over with. I really don’t want to be here.”

  “Right,” many agreed.

  “I’m going to ask that we vote again. Look in your heart. Listen to your conscience.” Billy took the vote and, surprisingly, it was unanimous. He did a happy dance in his mind but remained under control in his body. “All right. Good!”

  * * *

  Laura Keaton sat at full attention, every fiber of her being trying to keep calm. It wasn’t working. The blow her lawyer divulged should be a no brainer. She should be acquitted. But she wasn’t born yesterday. She knew well enough that not everyone may see things the way she does. She just hoped they did. Each minute closer to the reading of the verdict, her heart pounded all that much faster. Not having the Xanax was probably the hardest part of this journey. Behind being falsely accused, that is.

  Judge Robertson took his seat behind the bench, getting comfortable. Right on the hour, he looked over at the jury and asked, “Have the twelve of you come to a unanimous decision?”

  “Yes,” the foreman answered.

  “Ms. Keaton, please rise.”

  She
listened to the judge, her chair screeching the floor as she did so. Was she supposed to look at him? Or the jury? She was having a hard time looking at either.

  “Okay, Mr. Hardewick. Please stand and state your verdict.”

  Laura’s eyes went to the foreman. She noticed him slowly stand, appearing nervous. She knew what that was like. But at least his life wasn’t on the line.

  Mr. Billy Hardewick itched the side of his neck before opening his mouth. “On all seven counts of first-degree murder, the jury finds Ms. Keaton…”

  The pause was unbearable. Laura wanted nothing more than to shout out that he get it over with already. But she kept herself contained.

  Billy looked at his jury mates. Then at the room. The judge. Finally, they rested on Laura. Their eyes locked. He let out a deep breath. Clearing his throat, he said, “Not guilty.”

  While the decibels grew louder, Laura was in her own little world. She had to reach out to grab the desk because her knees went weak and her body threatened to fall to the marble floor. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped.

  Her lawyer, Jonathan Miller, drew his arms around her in a big hug. “Congratulations!”

  She was speechless. Words and sentence structure completely left her. Her brain didn’t even compute fast enough that she should hug back the man who helped save her.

  Judge Robertson banged his gavel. Little by little, the courtroom quieted. “Ms. Keaton, you have been acquitted of all charges. You are free to go.”

  After the bailiff ordered everyone to rise, the judge left. Members of the jury got up to leave, as did those who sat in to watch. And yet Laura couldn’t figure out how to get her legs to move. She was free? No more cuffs? No more cell? It was overwhelming. But in a good way!

  Another person came up quickly to hug her. At first, she didn’t realize who it was. Getting her bearings straight, she saw it was Cassie. She held on tight with great excitement. The two women swayed side to side.