Waiting for Morning (37 page)

“But the second reason is just as valid. The second reason is to protect people like Hannah Ryan. People like you. It’s time, friends, please. Find Brian Wesley guilty of first-degree murder, and let’s put an end to this madness now. Before it’s too late.”

The judge finished giving instructions, and the case was handed over to the jury. After just two hours the foreman notified the clerk.

They had reached a decision.

Thirty

He has broken my teeth with gravel; he has trampled me in the dust
.

L
AMENTATIONS
3:16

Because of the late afternoon hour, Judge Horowitz determined that the verdict would be read at 10
A.M.
the next day. The moment Matt heard the news, he was on the phone to Hannah. A quick verdict wasn’t good.

“So fast? What does it mean?” Hannah sounded frantic, and Matt’s heart went out to her.

“It could go either way.” He wanted to be honest. “But usually … quick verdicts wind up in favor of the defense.”

Hannah was silent for several seconds.
“What?
That’s impossible!” Matt could see the fury that would be in Hannah’s eyes as clearly as if he were standing in front of her. It made him wish he’d told her the news in person so he could take her in his arms and comfort her.

“Remember, Hannah, we had the burden of proof. Brian is innocent until proven guilty, and usually it takes longer to study the evidence and determine guilt. Usually.”

“Then we’ll have to appeal, find a loophole. Something. He has to pay for this, Matt. He can’t just—”

“Hannah, I didn’t say he was acquitted. I just wanted to warn you. There’s a chance. A good chance. We took a gamble in this case and didn’t leave the jury much choice. All or nothing.”

Hannah made no response, and Matt could hear her quietly sobbing.

“Hannah? Are you all right? I can be there in five minutes if you need me.” Matt almost hoped she’d say yes.

“No.” She gave two quick, jerky breaths and steadied her voice. “I’m okay. I have to talk to Jenny. She’s … she’s been in her room all evening.”

Matt felt Hannah’s heartache as though it were his own. He had to resist the urge to ask once more if she needed him. He wanted to be there. Wanted to help her. But he didn’t ask it. He didn’t want her to mistake his intentions. Not now. He changed topics instead. “I’m still worried about her.”

“Jenny?” Hannah drew a weary breath. “I think she’ll be okay. She’s just hiding out until the trial’s over. When I have peace, she will, too.”

Matt sighed. “Hannah … what if the verdict …” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Don’t, Matt. Please. I simply can’t imagine the what-ifs. It’s late and it’s been the longest week of my life. My daughter hates me, and after tomorrow I have to put this behind me and get on with making a life for the two of us. Right now I have no choice but to believe that tomorrow you will win your conviction, and finally—” her voice broke once more, and she sounded beyond tired. “Finally, I can have peace.”

Matt tapped a pencil on his dining room table and searched frantically for the right words. She wouldn’t have peace. He knew she wouldn’t. But there was no point trying to convince her. Not right now. “Get some sleep, Hannah.”

She laughed, but there was no hint of humor in her voice. “Are you kidding? With Jenny upstairs pouting and the verdict sitting in some sealed envelope down at the courthouse?
You
sleep, Matt. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, but if you’re going to be awake anyway, at least pray, Hannah. Please. Jenny needs your prayers.”

“She doesn’t need prayers, Matt; she needs her daddy and her big sister.” Hannah sighed and the emotion drained from her voice. “And not even your God can give her that.”

Matt cringed.
Lord, give me the words. Hannah’s your child. Jenny, too. Help them, Lord
.

When he remained silent, Hannah drew another deep breath. “I’m sorry, Matt. I don’t mean to take it out on you. You’ve been wonderful through this whole thing. I could never have climbed into that legal ring and duked it out with Finch like you’ve done. You were my only weapon in the biggest fight of my life.”

“That’s why God brought me into the case.”

Hannah paused. “God has nothing to do with it. He checked out months ago. August 28, I think it was.”

Matt could almost see the bitter root strangling everything beautiful in Hannah Ryan. But there was nothing he could say. “Enough. Good night, Hannah.”

“Night, Matt.” She hesitated. “See you tomorrow.”

He clicked the off button on his cordless telephone and set it on the kitchen counter. Hannah Ryan. He wandered to the cupboard, pulled out a glass and filled it with ice water. What would become of her after tomorrow, when she learned that peace wasn’t something one could buy with revenge? Win or lose, tomorrow night Hannah would be as unsettled as today. Maybe more so.

The glass was cool against his hands. He wandered into the living room and settled into a leather recliner. He pressed the drink to his face. Hot, hazy, summer days. Why had the Lord put Hannah in his life, anyway? And what would happen if they lost this case?

He surveyed his empty house. Normally after a day in court the solitude brought him peace. Today, for some reason, it made him feel lonely and old. Television didn’t help, so Matt turned in early and pulled out his newest copy of the Bible—a clothbound, men’s edition. Matt did not keep a well-worn copy of the Bible in his house. He liked reading the Bible through, marking it up as much as possible, and then starting fresh with another copy.

He fell asleep reading Philippians 4, somewhere between the peace that passes understanding and doing all things
through Christ who gives strength. But he didn’t dream of Paul and his profound letter.

He dreamed of Hannah Ryan.

Hannah studied her bedroom as she hung up the telephone. It had been nearly a year, and Tom’s Bible was now packed away with his other things. Only a picture of them taken on their tenth anniversary remained on the dresser. The clutter Tom had always tossed there had long since been cleared. There were none of the keys and coins and receipts that had collected there each week while they were married.

Tom was gone. The room was proof.

She stood and stretched. Her bones were tired, but she wasn’t particularly interested in sleep. Besides, the last few nights she’d woken at all hours with the most frightening nightmares. Hannah shuddered. There was no point dwelling on the dreams now. She had business to take care of.

Tiptoeing upstairs, Hannah tried to work up her courage. Anymore it was an amazing feat to get two words out of Jenny, and nights like this Hannah was almost too worn out to try. She knocked at the door.

“What?”

The girl didn’t sound angry. She didn’t sound anything. After tomorrow they could start working on their tattered relationship, but how long would it take? Months? Years? “Can I come in?”

Silence.

“Jenny? I want to talk to you.” Hannah allowed the wall to hold her up as she closed her eyes. “Open the door, Jenny.”

Footsteps, then Hannah heard a click. Jenny opened the door a crack, but by the time Hannah looked inside, she was already back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, eyes hollow.

Hannah pulled up a chair and sat down, facing the girl. For a single moment she remembered their old life, when she
would climb into the girls’ beds with them, snuggling and giggling and making girl-talk long after bedtime prayers. Now there was only awkwardness between them, forcing Hannah to keep her distance. She settled into the chair and tried not to think about it.

“The trial ended today.” Hannah waited and for an instant there was a flicker of something in Jenny’s eyes. Concern? Interest? Whatever it was, Hannah knew she had caught the girl’s attention.

When Jenny said nothing, Hannah felt her frustration begin to grow. “Did you hear me?”

Jenny didn’t roll her eyes or sigh as she had done so often lately. Instead she leveled her gaze at Hannah. “Yes, Mother. I heard you.”

There was no point waiting for Jenny to ask questions. She wouldn’t. Hannah set her chin. “It went well, I think. Matt did a great job presenting the case. But there’s still a chance Brian Wesley will be acquitted. We’ll know tomorrow.”

Jenny stared at her mother blankly.

“I thought you’d like to come. Tomorrow, I mean. I know you haven’t wanted to be there before. But it is the verdict, after all. If we win, I want you to be there.”

Jenny’s face twisted. “If we
win?
Mother, listen to yourself! No one’s going to win tomorrow.”

“If Brian Wesley goes to prison, we will win. It’s that simple.”

Jenny sat up in bed. “No, it’s not that simple.…” She looked like she was about to say something else, but apparently changed her mind. Shoulders slumped, she began picking at her bedspread. “Never mind.”

Hannah leaned forward, trying to get up the courage to touch her daughter, to pull her into a hug. Anything to bridge the distance between them. “Things will be different after tomorrow.” Silence. “You have to understand, Jenny. After Daddy and Alicia were killed, I didn’t know what else to do. I had to fight. Tomorrow Brian Wesley will be taken into custody.
Where he’s belonged since he did this awful thing to us.”

Jenny looked up, and Hannah was shocked to see that her little girl had the eyes of an old woman. “You honestly think a guilty verdict will make things different? Between us?”

“I know they will, honey. The battle’s almost over.” She hesitated. “Just this once, could you come to the trial with me? Please, Jenny.”

Jenny shook her head quickly. “No. I won’t go. I told you that.” Her voice was panicky, and Hannah drew back.

“Okay, forget it. I just thought … after all this time … oh, never mind.” Hannah stood up and headed for the door. Her heart felt like a dead weight within her.

“Mom …”

Hannah spun around. In that instant, in that one single word she heard the Jenny she’d lost, the one she hadn’t heard since they’d said good-bye in the driveway the day they left for the camping trip. The one that never made it home. Hannah searched her daughter’s eyes, but she wasn’t there. When Jenny spoke again whatever Hannah had heard was gone. The indifference was back.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me, honey.”

“It’s nothing, Mom.”

“Jenny … it’s been so long since we’ve talked. Really talked.” Hannah hated the awkwardness between them. She paused, desperately trying to think of the right words. “I’m here. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Jenny’s eyes were blank and she didn’t nod. Instead she lay down, turned her back to her mother, and faced the wall.

The rejection was more than Hannah could bear. “Fine. Turn away.”

“Get out, Mother. I’m done talking.”

If that’s the way you want it, Jenny …
Hannah stared at her, and in a voice so frigid it was foreign even to her, she spat one final sentence at her daughter: “Thanks a lot, Jenny, and oh,
yeah, I love you, too.” Hannah stormed out of the room, her heart pounding, her eyes dry.

That night as Hannah fell asleep, she realized she had no one to love, no one who loved her. Somehow she had died without anyone noticing. Her corpse was still breathing, but she was dead. As she tossed and turned, battling relentless, unseen, torturous demons, she wondered how it was, someone could love God most of her life and still wind up in hell.

Sgt. Jon Miller was having trouble falling asleep, but not because of unseen demons. Lately he’d been bothered by the accident … the one from a year ago. He had convinced himself it was the testimony. Acting as a witness for the prosecution had brought up memories he’d almost forgotten. The young teenage girls, one dead when he arrived on the scene … and the man, Dr. Tom Ryan. And especially that scene in the car when the man was trying to speak his final words.

He couldn’t for the life of him understand why that particular memory kept making its way into his mind. He had done as the man asked, passed on his final message for his surviving family. Sgt. Miller turned in bed and saw that his wife was sleeping soundly. He sighed. His eyes were open, but all he could see was Dr. Tom Ryan, trying to speak, struggling to form those final words.

Tell Hannah and the girls he loved them. That was it, wasn’t it?

Miller rolled over onto his other side and shut his eyes. Maybe he should get up and read his Bible. God’s promises always helped him fall asleep. He flipped so that he was flat on his back. He was about to pray when he heard the voice.

Remember the rest
.

Miller’s eyes flew open and he sat up straight in bed. Had he imagined that or had someone actually spoken? He glanced about the room, but nothing had changed. He released the air
from his lungs slowly. Sinking back into the pillows he felt his heart race. Must have been a dream. Maybe he was falling asleep after all. He closed his eyes.
Lord, thank you for letting—

Remember the rest
.

His eyes flew open and he shot up once more. His eyes sought his wife, but she was snoring. He propped his pillows and leaned back, heart racing, searching the room for the source of the message.
Remember the rest?
The image appeared again, Dr. Tom Ryan, bleeding to death, trying to gurgle out the last part of a farewell.

Could that be it? Was there something more to his message?

Suddenly the image cleared, and a realization came over Sgt. Miller so strong that he could feel his nerves calming, his heart rate returning to normal.

Dr. Ryan had said
two
things, not one. Tell Hannah and the girls he loved them and … and something else. Something that hadn’t seemed very important at the time.

Now if only he could remember what.

Thirty-one

I have been deprived of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is
.