Beyond Innocence (7 page)

She leaned back in the booth, waiting for their shocked responses to her confession. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, and Serena absorbed the surreal atmosphere of exposing her vulnerability accompanied by a light disco beat. She pondered how she could escape without them noticing. Return to her safe, secure life back in Florida, the comfort of family, and the security of her job. No crime, no questions, no recrimination.

Cory’s hand on hers stopped her thoughts cold. Warm, accepting, and not completely unwelcome. Seconds passed. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Cory’s eyes, but she couldn’t avoid Skye who looked between them with the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. She gently withdrew her hand and placed it in her lap. The entire exchange likely only lasted a couple of seconds, but the effect lingered. Would she have pulled her hand away if Skye hadn’t been right there? Didn’t matter. She was here on a mission and she would not be distracted. She focused her attention on the reason for this meeting.

“What do you need to get started?”

Skye leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Serena watched and waited, resisting the desire to shake an answer out of her. She’d started out this meeting relaxed, but after speaking out loud about Eric’s plight, anxiety now had a firm grip. Action. She craved action. Eric had waited long enough.

Thankfully, Skye spoke before she exploded. “I need to make a couple of phone calls. I’m in business for myself, but I need to make sure I can clear my schedule with the attorneys who rely on my services on a regular basis. And my wife will need a little notice that I’m going to be out of pocket.”

“Married, huh?” Cory asked. “Never would’ve pegged you for the marrying kind.”

Skye’s grin lit up the room. “Not only married, but starting a family. Aimee’s in her third trimester. You should know that a phone call from her is going to trump anything else for the next ten weeks.”

Cory’s smile was genuine. “Congratulations! You should definitely talk to her since there could be some out of town travel involved. Some of the trial witnesses have scattered to the wind and, of course, you’ll need to visit Eric at Huntsville.” Cory made a note on the pad in front of her. “The clinic has all the current contact info for the witnesses in their file, and we’ll get you a copy of all the police reports.”

Serena watched their easy exchange with a mixture of envy. Marriage, pregnancy, relationships. The ease with which they discussed these topics stung. She’d never pictured herself in their place, blithely discussing happily ever afters. She asked a question to bring things back to reality. “What’s your rate and how much of a retainer do you need?”

Skye drummed her fingers on the table and cocked her head, as if considering the question. “I usually charge a hundred dollars an hour for in-town work and extra for travel. As for the retainer, it’s hard to tell at this point. I’ll need to review what your attorneys have compiled and work out a game plan. Why don’t I make those calls I mentioned, get with Cory to review the evidence you have, and I’ll put together a strategy that will include an estimate of the work that needs to be done? That should take about half a day and you can pay me in advance for that.”

Skye sounded professional, thorough, and more than competent. Cory obviously trusted her and, despite a nagging sense she didn’t have enough information to draw this conclusion, Serena trusted Cory. She pulled a checkbook from her purse and scrawled out a check for five hundred dollars. She stood and handed the check to Skye. “I guess you better start making those calls.” She turned to Cory. “Ready?”

Cory answered her loaded question with a loaded answer. “If you are.”

She nodded, knowing she was agreeing to way more than leaving the bar.

*

Cory assumed the role of GPS and directed Serena through the crowded Dallas streets. Melinda had left a voice message on her cell to say she was stuck in a deposition. If she went back to the clinic now, she’d have to find a ride home, a situation Melinda clearly hadn’t contemplated when she’d dropped her off this morning. She could take a cab, but the cross-town ride would cost a fortune. Who was she kidding? Saving money wasn’t the reason she was pointing out the route to her house. She’d hardly had a moment alone with Serena and she craved the connection that coursed between them during the few short seconds in the bar.

Madness. She spent her entire career as a prosecutor vigilantly guarding all aspects of her personal life. Unlisted phone number, stellar security system. She didn’t participate in the frenzy of social media that had overtaken the rest of mankind. And her employer supported her desire for privacy. The DA’s office had an agreement with the local papers—no photos would accompany news articles about current cases. The very last thing she would have done as a prosecutor would be to invite a defendant over to her house.

But Serena wasn’t a defendant, and Cory was hard-pressed to even see her as the family of a defendant. Fragile, yet steeled. Intelligent, yet naive. Serena was a victim in her own right. If her brother was a killer, she was burdened with his evil deeds. If he wasn’t, she was burdened with guilt for his mislaid penance. Either way, Cory cared. Cared that Serena hurt, admired the courage it took to ask for help, and she longed to coax a smile from her weary, stress-filled eyes.

She almost cared enough to ignore reality. Eric’s execution date might come and go with hopeful, last-minute bursts of legal brilliance, but in the end, justice would mete out an unforgiving dose of poison. Once on death row, the path to life was nearly impossible to navigate. Very few dodged the executioner’s needle.

“Up here, on the right.” She’d let the entire drive to her house pass with only directional terms exchanged between them. So much for the moment alone. She’d wasted the time, unsure how to broach more personal topics in a way that wouldn’t cause Serena to shut down completely. As they pulled up to her house, she made a snap decision. “You can park in the drive.”

Serena’s eyes signaled surprise, but nothing else in her expression showed anything but the cool, calm composure Cory knew had to be a mask. She wore her own mask often enough to see through others. Cynical instead of compassionate. Objective rather than outraged. Her job as a prosecutor demanded the façade. What motive did Serena have for hiding her feelings?

The car idled in the drive. Serena obviously had no intention of assuming any hospitality on Cory’s part. Time for clarity. “Why don’t you come in for a few minutes? We haven’t really had a chance to talk, one-on-one.”

Serena stared at the front of Cory’s house for a few seconds before turning to face her. “Okay.”

Cory took more encouragement from the one-word answer than it probably merited, but she didn’t care. She waited until Serena shut the car down before opening her own door just to be sure she wouldn’t drive off the minute she exited the vehicle.

Once they were both out of the car, she considered her impulsive invitation and wondered if her house was clean. She’d been squirreled away there for several weeks, waiting to hear the outcome of her suspension. She’d lived on whatever could be delivered to her door and lived in every pair of sweats she owned. The only other person who’d gotten beyond the foyer was Melinda, and, since they’d lived together in college, she’d never given a second thought to what Melinda thought of her housekeeping skills. As she turned a key in the front door, she tossed a just-in-case apology over her shoulder. “I was in a hurry when I left this morning. The place might be a bit of a mess.”

It wasn’t too bad. She moved quickly to grab a few random takeout boxes. She pointed Serena in the direction of the formal dining room she never used, and snuck to the kitchen where she stacked the boxes in the pantry. “I have water, Diet Coke, and wine. Can I get you something to drink?” She called out the question, feeling woefully inadequate for her lack of selection.

“A glass of water would be great.”

Cory loaded the last clean glass with ice and water and met Serena in the dining room. She’d emptied the contents of her bag onto the table and had various files spread about. Serena was focused on the case. Not what Cory had in mind when she’d invited her in. Serena looked up when she entered, took the water glass, and drank half of it down. “I guess I was thirsty.”

“Looks like you’ve accumulated a lot of paperwork about your brother’s case.”

“I’ve tried. I think there is more paperwork associated with the appeal than there was for the whole trial.”

Cory considered her next question carefully before wading in. “Were you living in Florida at the time of the trial?”

“I was, but what I really think you want to ask me is why I didn’t attend my brother’s life or death trial.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking.” Maybe a truthful answer would garner an honest response.

“The short answer is, I didn’t know about it. The long answer is, well…it’s long.”

Cory pointed at her glass. “I have something stronger if it would help the telling.”

Serena cracked a mirthless smile. “Something with caffeine would be great.”

“I can make a pot of coffee.” She may not have a well-stocked fridge and pantry, but coffee was one staple she’d never be without.

Serena’s smile was real this time. “I’d love some.”

“Join me in the kitchen?”

“That would be nice.” Serena lifted the water glass and followed Cory into the massive room. “What a wonderful kitchen. You must be an accomplished cook.”

Cory followed her gaze to the bright copper pots and pans dangling from the ceiling. The room was pretty impressive. And clean. Very clean, since she never used it. “Actually, I can barely boil water.” She gestured to the large oak table. “I copied the kitchen of my childhood. I have tons of good memories from being a kid, sitting around the kitchen table, watching my mom craft amazing meals, not to mention cookies and cakes. I never got the chef gene, but re-creating the atmosphere is the next best thing. Sometimes I burn one of those cake-scented candles for ambiance. Do you think I’m a total dork?”

Serena mumbled something and looked away. Cory was torn between pressing for affirmation and accepting that her banal conversation wasn’t endearing her to Serena. The dork comment was already out, she may as well go for broke. “Now I’m sure you think I’m a dork.”

Serena turned to face her and Cory saw tears in her eyes. “I don’t think that at all.”

“Good. Most people get to know me a little better before they draw that conclusion.” Cory reached for a napkin and handed it to Serena. “I didn’t mean to make you cry with my ramblings.”

“You didn’t.”

“Okaaaay,” Cory drew the word out. Better than calling Serena a liar. She’d clearly hit a nerve, but she couldn’t imagine how. She reviewed her words. She’d been talking about the kitchen, her mother, cooking…“Was it the mention of cookies? Because I might have a box of store-bought ones somewhere in here.” She grinned as she kidded. Anything to get the smile back on Serena’s face.

Serena’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, but it was something. “Thanks, but I’ll pass on the cookies,” she said.

Cory gave it a last shot. “How about a good ear while you tell me what’s wrong?”

Serena half stood, and for a minute, Cory thought she’d chased her off. Instead, Serena walked over to the coffee pot. “I don’t trust a woman who can’t boil water to make my coffee.” She reached into the coffee canister and started scooping grounds. “But I guess if you’re going to be my brother’s lawyer, I better trust you enough to tell you our story.”

“Eric raised me.” Serena had never spoken those words before, but she knew with all her heart they were true. “We shared a mother, and neither of us knew who our fathers were. Didn’t matter. We may as well not have had any parents at all. The woman who gave birth to us didn’t care about anything other than where she’d get her next fix or fuck.” Serena met Cory’s eyes and was pleased she didn’t flinch at the profanity. Instead, she looked interested in hearing more. Serena wasn’t used to telling her story, but the interest and instant compassion reflected in Cory’s eyes compelled her to keep talking.

“Our mother was a junkie. She slept with whoever would buy her drugs. Sometimes she was home, but most of the time she was at the local convenience store, begging a smoke from everyone who walked in, scoping the customers out until she found the one who would make her night.

“I don’t remember how old I was when I figured out she wasn’t going to take care of me. The food on the table was there because Eric put it there. I never wondered how my brother, only a few years older than me, provided for us. We never had much, but we always had something to eat, at least once a day.

“We moved a lot. I remember angry words when the landlords would come by, looking for the rent. Eric would pull them aside, and after the visits we usually got to stay a bit longer. When we moved, it was in the middle of the night, and we took only what we could carry in one trip. Didn’t matter much since we didn’t own much more than that.” She paused for breath. She’d blurted the details out fast, scared they wouldn’t come if she didn’t hurry them along.

“I’m glad you had Eric to take care of you.”

Serena was surprised by the insight. Those who knew the story―the agency worker and her adoptive parents—focused on what she didn’t have—parents, rather than what she did have—a brother who loved her without conditions. Their focus was likely the reason they minimized her loss once they were separated. “He was my world.”

“What happened?”

A simple question. Serena cast about for a simple response. She took a sip of her coffee as she gathered strength for the hardest part of the telling. “We finally managed to stay in one place long enough to feel like it was home, but as a result, Child Protective Services finally got wind of our mother’s antics. They made several home visits and removed us and filed papers to terminate our mother’s parental rights. I was ten. They placed us in a foster home, together at first.”

Cory nodded her head. “They always try to keep siblings together.”