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Chapter 35
Brian
“Brian…Brian.”
I groaned at the whisper and pulled the small body of the little girl protectively closer to mine.
“Brian, I’m here, I can take Honey.” The voice grew louder and shook my arm.
I opened my eyes slightly and saw a woman standing in front of me. It only took a moment for it to register. It was Maggie Hunter. I nodded and climbed off the queen-size bed.
I rubbed my eyes and hugged Maggie. “How’s Maranda?”
Maggie nodded. “She’s OK I guess. I didn’t get to say much. I’ve been riding around in a cab, trying to sort things out.”
I smiled. “It’s good for you. I’m here so if you need to go off and think it’s fine.”
She laughed. “You know I had planed on saying the same for you."”
“Then we’ll both just have to look out for Honey and Maranda.”
“Agreed.” She sighed and I took one last glance at Honey before slipping to my room.
Maranda
The nights were the coldest in the jail. It’s been a week since I’d been out of this cell. Or was it two? I tried my hardest to remember. They seemed to be continuing this trial with out the most important person…me! I tried hard to remember in this dark room whether it was day or night. I couldn’t.
Turning on my side I blocked out the images of me never seeing Brian again. Why did that though hurt worse than seeing myself old, gray and dying in an ugly orange jump suit? Because you love him, an annoyingly truthful voice said in the back of her head. It was true; I was in love with a man I’d never see again.
“Hey girl.” I barley looked at the cement wall that seemed to have spoken to me. Why wouldn’t I crack in this place? Seems only logical that that was the next step.
“Yeah?” I answered before I could help my self.
“What y’r crime? I’m for grand theft. Life maybe.”
I realized there was a contrasting girl on the other side of this wall. I turned my head back up to the ceiling. “I’m a spy.”
“A what? Who you spying?” The girl’s grammar was bad, but she was someone to talk to, to keep the insanity down.
“A pop star.”
“A pop star? Hey are you that Hunter chick? The one who blackmailed the Pres. of the states?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. Some conversation, we’re talking about me, I can do that myself.
“So, uh, how comes you not out ‘er like the sez you can?”
“How old are you?” I answered her question with a question.
“15, you?”
“Older than that. Why’d you do something like that so young?”
“Mies ma is sick. Wes needs the money.”
I closed my eyes. They hurt from the dust of the bed. It seemed as if I’d lain on this bed the whole time I was here. I’m not even sure I haven’t. “Theft isn’t the best way to get money.”
“Yez, y’r one to talk. Blakmain’ the pres. and such.”
“Look, I’m tired.”
“Yez, whatever.”
“Hey spy girl.” I groaned and lifted my head to look at the prison guard. “You’re wanted in court.” She gave an evil grin. “I think you’re gonna get you sentence.”
Brian
“Honey, sit down.” I pulled Honey back down onto my lap for the third time. She kept standing up to look for Maranda, but she hadn’t been drawn into the courtroom yet.
“Ducky, how long till she comes?” She whispered to me after I placed a finger over my mouth to quite her whines.
“Soon, she’ll be here soon.”
“Honey, come to momma.” Maranda’s mom held her arms out to Honey and the child went willing to her mother’s lap.
“Do you think they’ll give her the suit you bought her?” Nick whispered.
“I hope so. I know Maranda doesn’t want her sister’s first impression of her as a jail bird.”
Nick nodded in understandment. “I hope…” Nick trailed off as Maranda entered the courtroom. She had four guards surrounding her, but no cuffs on. She was wearing the charcoal colored suit, nylons and pumps. Her hair was in a tight French twist and she had the pearl earrings and necklace Brian bought her. She kept her nose high and her eyes on the judge. They moved her to her seat and two guards sat behind her, armed to the core.
“Will the defense please stand.” The judge said.
Maranda stood her back to us. She folded her hands behind her back. The judge was a balding man who had the body of a teddy bear but looked to have the face of a tough warrior who took no crap.
His expression softened when he spoke to the respectful woman infant of him. “Ms. Hunter, through all this you have said nothing out of context. I appreciate that. Now I will give you a chance to speak to the jury before they make the final decision. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Maranda stood there for a moment and I almost thought she wouldn’t say anything at all. Nick noticed her long pause too and looked at me for an answer that I didn’t have.
When she finally did speak she had everyone’s attention and she spoke with a passion on the subject. “Do what you must to stop ‘The Watcher’s Program’. If that means I’ll never again see the outside world, so be it. I did many wrong things that I both regret and am glad for at the same time.”
“I regret hurting my family and the Littrell family. I have caused them great grief in the past years. I don’t regret the scars I got. I’m marred with scars that prove my intents, though gone about in a wrong way, were good. If I’m to be the example of what happens to those types of people, I willingly accept.”
The judge stared at her for a moment and the DA started standing and clapping. “See your honor, she’s turning this into a drama fest.”
“Listen, this is my court room, if I wanted the DA’s opinion I’d ask for it.” The judge leaned over his desk, pointing his gavel at the DA, and glared. “Did I ask your opinion?”
The DA didn’t answer, but sat in a flushed state.
I looked at Nick who was also trying not to laugh.
Maranda
I sat in that courtroom chair for what seemed like hours. I didn’t move, I didn’t talk. I didn’t dare make a glance to see if Brian and my mom were here. I was almost ready to pray they weren’t when the jury, single file walked back into the courtroom. This was it. Now I was going to see whether or not I would spend my life in jail or not.
I watched silently as the jurors sat down. I watched as the bailiff went to the head juror, took the folded white paper, and handed it to the judge.
The judge read it silently and emotionlessly. He folded the paper back quickly and handed it to the bailiff. With a quick nod the bailiff obeyed the silent order and handed the paper back to the juror.
“Will the defense please rise.” It was more a command than a question I realized, then scolded my self for caring about such a little thing.
“Has the jury made a decision?” The judge questioned the jury.
“Yes, your honor.”
“What say you?”
“We the jury, of the court case ‘Maranda Hunter vs. the state of Florida’ have come to this vote that Ms. Hunter is to be found…”
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