Waiting for Morning (41 page)

Hannah’s eyes locked onto the back of Brian Wesley’s head. “It’s something I have to do.” She turned to Jenny. “You understand, right?”

Jenny hesitated, and Hannah saw how much she’d aged in the past year. She was not the carefree girl she had been when they pulled out of the driveway that summer day so long ago. Brian Wesley had taken that, too.

“Yes, Mom. I understand. I’ll be praying for you.”

The judge banged his gavel twice. “Come to order.” He hesitated a moment, glancing at the docket before him. “We will proceed with the sentencing of Brian Wesley, who has been found guilty of the crime of first-degree murder in the deaths of Tom and Alicia Ryan.

“First, I want to state for the record that I have received a pre-sentence probation report on the defendant. Because of his
history of alcoholism and driving under the influence, the probation department is recommending the maximum sentence, to be served concurrently with alcohol rehabilitation. The department advises that at such a time as Mr. Wesley should be deemed cured of his alcoholism—”the judge raised his eyebrows skeptically, then cleared his throat and continued—“At that time the department suggests Mr. Wesley should be released at the soonest, most reasonable opportunity.”

Hannah tried to make sense of that and glanced at Matt. His eyes told her it was okay, and that was enough.

“Also, I have a letter from—” the judge sorted through a stack of papers until he found what he was looking for—“the defendant’s ex-wife. She asked that I read it for the record and I will do so now.”

He held the sheet and read:

“ ‘Dear Judge, My name is Carla, and I was married to Brian Wesley for many years. I am raising his son. I saw Brian drink a lot in our marriage, but he never raised a hand to me or our boy. He was not a bad man, even though he drank. I know what he done is wrong and he should be punished. But I would appreciate it if you would be kind and give him the least many years in prison as you can. Things are over between us. Little Brian won’t never know his Daddy.’ ”

Hannah watched Brian hang his head. She huffed lightly and angry thoughts fought for position.
Good. Grieve. I hope the boy forgets you ever existed. You deserve every moment of heartache
.

She couldn’t wait to tell him so.

Hannah, listen to me.
…

What? I don’t understand, Lord. I’m listening as hard as I can
.

The judge finished reading and paused. “Under the California Victim’s Rights Act, I will now allow any victims who are present to speak.”

Matt rose to his feet. “Mrs. Hannah Ryan would like an opportunity, your honor.”

“Very well, let the record reflect that Mrs. Ryan, a victim, will be speaking next.”

Hannah wanted to ask the Lord for strength, but it felt strange. She frowned at the odd feeling and instead squeezed Jenny’s hand and met Carol’s eyes. Then she reached for the scrapbook, headed for the witness stand, and took her seat.

She stared at Brian and realized it was the first time she’d seen his face during the proceedings. Her eyes narrowed, and she saw Brian struggle beneath her gaze. A movement caught her eye, and she saw Matt cross his arms and study something on the floor.

Hannah adjusted the microphone and stared at three pages of typed notes. Her anger was so intense it might well have been a visible shield about her.

Careful, Hannah
. The warning seemed strangely out of place, and she ignored it.

She drew a thin breath. Her hands trembled, and she steadied the letter before her. “More than a year ago my husband, Tom, and my two daughters, Alicia and Jenny … left home for their annual camping trip. It was something they did every year at the end of summer. They were coming home on that August day when—”

Suddenly a sob lodged in Hannah’s throat, and she lifted her eyes to meet Brian’s. For a moment all she wanted to do was spit at him or slap him or knock him down. She wanted to hurt him physically the way he’d hurt her. She caught a tear on her fingertip and continued. “They were coming home when you killed them. You didn’t care about who they were or where they were going when you killed them. So now I’ll tell you who they were. Because I think you need to know.

“Tom was …” This was harder than she’d thought. She gulped and swiped at more tears. “He was the love of my life. We grew up side by side and thought we’d be … together forever.”
Hannah glanced up; Brian was staring at his hands.

“Look
at me!” She leaned forward, clutching the stand. She wanted to cross the distance between them and—and—

Her heart pounded as she recognized the truth. Her anger was about to explode into a fit of rage. She had to gain control, to say these things with dignity. She released a single breath and relaxed back into her seat, regaining composure as quickly as she had lost it. When she spoke again the anger was there, but it was contained once more. “I asked you to look at me, Mr. Wesley. You owe me at least that.”

When he met her eyes, she paused, then flipped through her scrapbook and held up a photo of Tom. She spoke, not in a voice of sorrow, but of seething, carefully managed fury. The tears came in streams now, and she gave up fighting them. “Tom was all I ever wanted in a man. He was … he was my best friend.”

She turned to another page and held up a portrait of Alicia. “You killed my little girl, too. My precious firstborn.” She looked up and met Brian’s gaze. “You wouldn’t know anything about someone like Alicia—” Hannah glanced toward Jenny—“Or my other daughter … Jenny. Because people like you, selfish alcoholics who think nothing of taking a life … people like you don’t have anything in common with people like my girls.” She looked down at her notes and then back at Brian. “Alicia was beautiful, inside and out. She would have done anything for anyone and usually she did. You killed her and …”

That was as far as she got. She began sobbing. Unable to hold back the sorrow, she put head down in her hands.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, weeping, but when she felt someone at her elbow, she lifted her head and saw Matt with a box of tissues. He placed a supportive hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. Hannah met his eyes and nodded.

Sitting straighter, she sniffed and blew her nose. There were things she needed to say, and she had to say them now, to Brian Wesley’s face, or she would spend the rest of her life
angry at missing the opportunity.

Peace. After this I’ll have peace
. She glanced at the judge. “I’m sorry.”

Judge Horowitz nodded, his eyes compassionate. “That’s all right, Mrs. Ryan. Please continue.”

Hannah nodded and swallowed. Then she caught Brian Wesley’s eyes once more and finished. “You killed Alicia, and any children she may have borne. You killed her family … because of—of your selfish choice. You killed her future.” She shuffled pages until she was staring at the third page. “I no longer have a husband. I no longer have my oldest daughter. And my youngest daughter, Jenny—” tears coursed down her face but she continued—“Jenny has suffered severely because of this. She will not have her sister to share the future with.… She will not have a father to walk her down the aisle when she gets married.”

Hannah looked up and found she still had Brian’s attention. “For a long time I hated God because of what you did. Now I know I was wrong about that. This wasn’t God’s fault, it was yours.” She was nearing the end, and she leaned forward again, spewing hatred with every word. “You … you are a despicable human being. Worthless … hopeless … heartless … without any concern for the lives of those around you.”

Hannah, Hannah, Hannah …

What was the Lord trying to tell her? Why now? Hannah pushed the thoughts away. Whatever it was, she would have to worry about it later.

When she continued, her voice was slightly more controlled. “Today, before this courtroom, I am asking Judge Horowitz to hand down the stiffest, most severe punishment he can legally assign. You are an animal, a ruthless, cold-blooded killer who will kill again and again until someone locks you up.”

She drew a trembling breath, and when she spoke again her voice was a snakelike hiss, each word pronounced with
increasing rage. “I hope you rot in hell, Mr. Wesley. Because I will never …”

Hannah!

“—ever … forgive you for what you took from me.”

Brian hung his head. Hannah collected her scrapbook and excused herself from the witness stand.
There
. She had done it. But instead of the peace she had hoped to feel, she felt choked by the same emotion that had strangled her since the accident: merciless, bitter hatred.

Thirty-four

Moreover, our eyes failed, looking in vain for help;
from our towers we watched for a nation that could not save us
.

L
AMENTATIONS
4:17

When Hannah said she wanted Brian Wesley to rot in hell, Matt linked his hands and lowered his head until it was resting on his fingertips.
Lord, this can’t be what you want from Hannah. Help her, please. The anger is going to kill her
.

He let go a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair, knowing there was more to come.

“Are there any other victims who wish to speak?” Judge Horowitz looked to Matt, and then Hannah.

“No, your Honor.” Matt rose briefly and then sat back down. Brian Wesley was next, and Matt had a sudden urge to join Hannah, to put an arm around her and steady her. He couldn’t explain it, but he was sure she wasn’t going to like what Brian Wesley was about to say.

“Very well.” The judge turned to Finch. “Would the defendant like to speak on his behalf?”

“Yes, your Honor.” Brian Wesley made his way slowly to the witness stand. He hung his head and didn’t look up until he’d been sitting for several seconds. He had no notes.

Dressed in jailhouse orange, his hair poorly cut, his body bent and rail thin, Matt thought the man looked the part Hannah had assigned him. A cold-blooded killer. A criminal who didn’t care who he hurt. But there was something in Brian Wesley’s eyes.…

Brian lifted his head and searched the courtroom until he
found Hannah, and Matt held his breath as Brian began to speak.

“Mrs. Ryan, I agree with everything you just said. You’re right. It was all my fault, and I deserve my punishment.”

Matt glanced once more at Hannah; she looked like a human fortress, arms crossed, body back against her chair, eyebrows lowered suspiciously.

Please, Lord …

Brian continued. “I am worthless, despicable, and untrustworthy on the streets of this city. But there is one thing I’m not. And that’s hopeless.” His gaze didn’t waver. “What I did was terrible and wrong, and before these witnesses today I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mrs. Ryan, really—” his voice broke—“if I could change it, I would. If I could go back …”

As Matt watched and listened, he had the surest sense that Brian Wesley’s remorse was genuine. He looked at Hannah … did she see it, too? No, one side of her upper lip lifted, and she laughed without the slightest trace of humor.

Brian went on, undaunted. “I can’t go back, Mrs. Ryan. But I am sorry. I’ll be sorry every day, the rest of my life. But I do have hope because of someone I met after my arrest … someone who’s here today. She told me about Jesus and how his blood had already paid the price for my horrible sins. I gave my life to him, Mrs. Ryan.”

Hannah’s face lost all its color, and she looked frozen in icy shock.

“That woman told me Jesus loved me even though I killed your husband and daughter. But she told me something else. She told me it was right for me to serve time here, now. In this life. I done the crime, and now I need to do the time. She’s been the best friend I could ever have hoped for. You know her. Carol Cummins.”

Matt watched helplessly as Hannah was cut by the truth. After today Carol would be on Hannah’s hate list as well—and it would take all Hannah’s time, all her energy, and what was
left of her beauty to tend to the bitter root that was even now spreading through her heart. His eyes shifted and fell on Jenny. She, too, looked stunned as she hung on to her mother’s arm.

Brian rattled on about the virtues of Carol and how she had brought him a Bible and led him to the Lord, but Hannah was barely listening.
Carol Cummins?
The woman she had confided in nearly every day since the collision? Carol was … the enemy? Hannah turned in her seat and glared at Carol.

Carol sighed and spoke in a whisper. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I wanted to tell you—”

“Don’t talk to me!”

The same sense of shock she’d felt when she first learned of the collision hit her again. Her entire world was suddenly upside down, and she wanted to grab Jenny’s hand and run from the courtroom.

Brian Wesley was talking to her again.

“I may be in prison for the rest of my days, Mrs. Ryan, and it serves me right. But believe me, I am a new man because God used Mrs. Cummins to change my life forever.” He paused and kept his eyes on Hannah’s. “I am sorry, Mrs. Ryan. I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life. And I don’t blame you if you never forgive me.”

Brian finished, and Hannah had a hard time making her mouth work as she whispered to Jenny, “I’ll be in the hall.” The judge dismissed them for a fifteen-minute break, but Hannah was out of the courtroom before he finished speaking.

Matt watched Hannah go. The moment he was free, he left the courtroom and found her staring out a dusty window, her arms crossed.

“Hannah—”

She spun around. “Were you in on this, too? This … this
betrayal with Brian Wesley?”

Matt wanted to pull her close and soothe away the shock, but not with reporters lurking nearby. He held her gaze and shook his head. “I knew nothing about it.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and turned back toward the window. Her voice was a strangled whisper. “How could she?”

He had an answer, but not one Hannah was ready to hear. “Come on, let’s get back. It’s been almost fifteen minutes.”