The Third Victim Part 24

Sandy kept thinking that Danny was dead.

"Now, you have to look on the bright side," Avery Johnson was saying.

"Danny's only thirteen years old. He has statistics on his side."

"Statistics?" Sandy asked weakly. She was mangling a piece of freshly baked apple pie. Her mother had served it with a giant scoop of vanilla ice cream just ten minutes ago. Sandy watched the ice cream melt into little flowing rivers, then she formed dams with bits of baked apple. After a moment Shep took her plate and ate the pie himself. In times of crisis, he always gained an appet.i.te while she lost hers.

"In the upcoming hearing," Avery was saying, 'we must argue what's in the best interest of the child and the community. Basically, a waiver hearing focuses on two key aspects of Danny's personality: Does he pose too great a risk to others to be sufficiently handled by the juvenile system, and is he amenable to rehabilitation? Naturally, the DA is going to argue that Danny's act proves he's a dangerous felon beyond all hope of rehabilitation, thus he falls outside the jurisdiction of juvenile court. The judge should cart the child away to adult court, which has the means to handle a master criminal.

"Our job is to prove otherwise, and the good news is that the statistics are in our favor. The majority of children who commit violent acts won't reoffend in adulthood. Furthermore, and we must emphasize this, studies show that there is a higher chance of recidivism with a child who is incarcerated with adults than with a child who is held in juvenile facilities. Thus, it is in the state's own best interest to keep Danny in juvenile jurisdiction, where he can be rehabilitated and then start over on his twenty-fifth birthday as a productive member of society."

"You're a.s.suming Danny is guilty," Sandy said shortly.

"Why are you a.s.suming that my son is guilty?"

Avery, an older man with wire-rimmed gla.s.ses and expensive suits, gave her a faint smile. He had eaten his pie within minutes, then gently patted his upper lip with his paper napkin as if it had been made of the finest linen. Sandy wasn't sure if she liked him yet. She thought he might be too pompous, too rich and oozing of success for her taste.

But Shep had been taken with him since they first met at some law-enforcement function where Avery was the keynote speaker. Shep went so far as to call him a 'friend," though Sandy knew that wasn't

really true. Avery Johnson moved in circles beyond them. He lived in a gorgeous home in Lake Oswego and was hardly taking this case out of the goodness of his heart. Sandy imagined the man charged five hundred dollars an hour and was racking up billable time even as he ate their pie.

She did not know how they were going to pay him. She had no idea what kind of lies Shep must have fed the man about their financial circ.u.mstances to even get him to show up. She just knew that Shep wanted Avery Johnson. He was the best there was and Shep wouldn't hear of anything less for his son. That was his idea of fatherhood, and it both enraged Sandy and broke her heart.

"Sandy, you can rest a.s.sured that I will never let a jury think your son is guilty." Avery smiled at her again.

"But we're not at a jury trial yet. Six months from now it will be Charles Rodriguez and myself 'discussing' Danny's future with Judge Matthews, who, frankly, is a miserable old fart who would like to bring back corporal punishment to public schools. He probably does think Danny is guilty. He probably thinks Danny should hang. Fortunately, that's not germane to the hearing. At this point we're simply addressing which court should have jurisdiction over the case. So I need to argue that, guilty or not, Danny's and the community's interests are best served by keeping this case in juvenile court."

"Because even if he's a ma.s.s murderer now, when he grows up he'll be magically cured?"

"Exactly. And there's nothing magical about it. I've been reading articles on juvenile crime all night, and the experts call it the "desistance phenomenon." From ages twelve to eighteen, male teens exhibit a spike of criminal activity as their rise in hormones and developmental changes outpace their coping skills. Then at eighteen, as they become adults, get jobs, and find more permanent relationships, they settle down. Criminal activity falls off, and even teens once described as 'troubled' go on to lead normal lives."

"So if Danny is innocent, he's innocent. But if he's guilty, he's merely going through a phase? That's what we're going to argue in court?" Sandy's voice was becoming shrill.

She couldn't help herself. It sounded ludicrous. It sounded insane.

Shep shot her an impatient stare.

"For G.o.d's sake, Sandy, what do you want to hear? He just told you his job is to keep Danny out of adult court, and this is the way he can do it."

"Sandy' Avery began soothingly.

Sandy cut him off.

"I don't know what I want to hear! Maybe that my only son is not capable of killing three people. Maybe that my firstborn child is not a murderer, it's all been a big mistake." She slammed her hand down on the table.

"Look at you two, discussing legal theory as if it makes a difference.

This isn't a ball game. It doesn't boil down to who wins or loses at the end of the night. This is our son! This is our community! How are we going to walk down the streets if Danny is found guilty? What are we going to tell Becky? My G.o.d, Shep, didn't you see what they wrote on our garage? They're going to kill him. Our neighbors hold Danny responsible for the murder of two little girls, and sooner or later someone is going to kill him. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

Sandy pushed back from the table. She got up, paced four steps around the tiny kitchen, then realized she was crying uncontrollably. Shep did not get up to console her. Last night he had tried to come to her bed after months of sleeping on the sofa. His voice had sounded ragged. He'd told her he just wanted to hold her. Maybe they could put aside their differences for a while. Once, they'd been good friends.

Sandy's anger had been too tight in her chest. She had looked at her husband, the father of her children, raw and vulnerable with his big shoulders sagging, and all she could think was that if Danny had been driven to murder, it was Shep's fault. He pushed the boy too hard. He had never appreciated that Danny was different, more intellectual, more like her. Instead, Shep had tried to force him into his arrogant, macho world. He had broken their son. He had broken their family.

Sandy hated him.

And then, as abruptly as the emotion had overcome Sandy, it ripped through her body and she had nothing left. She stood in their kitchen empty, exhausted, and swaying on her feet.

She turned toward the doorway and there was Becky, watching her with somber blue eyes.

"Don't let the monster get you, Mommy," Becky said. Then she turned and walked back into the family room, where Sandy's parents were watching TV.

Sandy returned to the table and had a seat.

"I know this is an emotional time for you," Avery began.

"Jesus f.u.c.king Christ," Sandy said.

Shep sighed heavily, got up, and cut himself a third piece of pie.

"Look," Avery said briskly, 'let me walk you through the whole process.

Maybe by the end it will be clearer to you what we're trying to accomplish. The next six to twelve months are going to be crucial to Danny's future."

Sandy held up a hand.

"Why do we have to wait six to twelve months?"

"Because it's going to take that long for everyone to prepare for the waiver-motion hearing. It's not a small thing."

"But Danny can't come home, can he? You said there's no bail for juveniles accused of murder. So what is this? My son isn't even on trial yet, isn't even found guilty of murder, and he's going to spend at least six months locked up in a juvenile detention hall? For G.o.d's sake, how can that be legal?"

"It's the way the system works."

"Well, f.u.c.k the system!" Sandy was beyond reason and knew it.

Avery Johnson gave her that small, soothing smile again. Then his voice got sharp.

"Mrs. O'grady, I know you don't want to hear this, but there is a good chance that Danny committed these crimes. He was found holding Shep at gunpoint. He brought your family's guns to the school, and, furthermore, he confessed twice."

"He's in shock. You said so yourself. He doesn't know what he's saying."

"The guns, Mrs. O'grady. The guns. How did two handguns get from your safe to the school?"

Sandy looked at Shep helplessly. He stabbed the air with his ice-cream-covered fork.

"My son didn't do it," he said stoically.

For the first time, Sandy felt a rush of warmth toward her husband.

Avery Johnson said sternly, "You're a police officer, Shep, and not even you can prove your son's innocence ' "I will ' "You can't ' "I got six months."