Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 2
- 4 years ago
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As it turned out, Claire's misgivings were justified. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and she had no clue as to how to proceed. Had she been in her professional setting, she would have controlled the conversation. She couldn't really do that, there in the restaurant.
So, she chose to try giving Lacey the redemption she sought.
"They forgave you," she said, her voice tight.
Bob shot her a look that said very clearly, "What the fuck? You don't mean that." Lacey didn't see it.
"I don't understand," said Lacey, blinking eyes that were full of moisture.
"They put themselves in your shoes," said the psychiatrist. "Remember, there were men on that jury, who have wives and daughters. They were thinking about what it might have been like if those wives and daughters had gone through what you went through. And the women were feeling it even more directly. They decided that anybody would have reacted like you did."
"But I killed him!" insisted Lacey.
"And they forgave you," insisted Claire, feeling more and more out of control.
Lacey blinked. "So that's it?"
"That's it," said Matthew. Claire didn't remind him that he'd promised to remain silent.
What turned the tables was when Lacey looked at Bob.
"Do you forgive me?" she asked, her voice tiny.
"Sweetheart," said Bob gently. "I knew about it, and I fell in love with you anyway."
"I've always loved you," she whispered. "I loved you from the very first time I saw you."
Claire frowned.
"I'm glad," said Bob, smiling. He kept his voice light.
Lacey saw Claire's frown, and heard the patronization in Bob's voice. She was well aware that some of her memories about Bob were false ones, and she now knew which ones were.
"No, you don't understand," she said, shaking her head. "There, in the hospital, I knew you cared. I didn't even know your name, but when you walked in there and looked at me, I knew you cared. You had never seen me before. I wanted to die with shame, but you cared about me. That was the only reason I could go on." She wiped at one eye with the back of a finger. "I think I already knew Paul would abandon me. He's like that. If something breaks, he just tosses it out. I'd seen him do that with friends who disappointed him. Everything was disposable to Paul. But YOU cared about me, and you didn't even KNOW me!"
Bob had no idea what to say, so he just kept quiet. He felt conflicting emotions because of what he had put her through, and how it had turned out. He was still worried. Until he looked back at Claire.
She wasn't frowning any more.
It took a while.
Lacey met every day with Claire, who kept hypnotizing her, nudging things here and there, with posthypnotic suggestions. The psychiatrist delved into the woman's mind, until she was convinced there was nothing else hidden. In the end, other than the normal disappointments that all people suffer, the only real trauma was related to the two incidents in Lacey's life that most people don't have to deal with.
Lacey herself didn't really notice any improvement. She still knew she had killed Gilbert Kinneson, and she still felt as though she had done something wrong, but slowly, the lack of condemnation for the act turned from dread—waiting for some kind of shoe to drop—to a feeling of equilibrium. Claire's insistence that she had been forgiven, both legally and morally, at least by the jury and those who knew her, slowly sank in. Equilibrium eventually turned to hope.
Bob helped, though he wouldn't have said he was "helping." He waited, and it had to be called waiting patiently. Four agonizing months had passed since Lacey's candle light dinner had turned into the beginning of an ordeal that was still not completely finished. The trial and her expectations about it had become a wedge between them, put there by Lacey, and it was up to Lacey to remove it. Bob just loved her. And her hope that the next time she saw Bob he would still love her was something that led her forward, as gently as Claire's suggestions.
It's hard to say when she saw the hope that was in HIS eyes—hope that this was behind her enough that they could move forward together—hope that they could fully love each other. He was much more quickly able to adjust to the verdict than she was. People "got off" all the time, and this time was one he could applaud, though he was careful not to.
But nothing happens in a vacuum ... and there were other ramifications to the decision of the jury that day.
Bob wasn't aware of it, but the acquittal was taken personally by some other players. The District Attorney was the first, who wanted to know why Roger Schwartz hadn't gotten a conviction, when the accused had admitted her guilt in court. Roger hadn't talked to the judge, and was sent back to do so. The judge wasn't nice about it, reminding Schwartz that he'd known there would be an expert witness on the stand, put there by the defense, and asking why he hadn't had the woman examined by his own expert witness. Schwartz ducked that issue when he went back to report to the DA. He blamed it on the jury, for jumping to what he was sure was an erroneous conclusion.
The Commissioner of Police wasn't happy either. He was still smarting in the aftermath of the internal affairs and state investigations. That he'd requested the state to get involved didn't make him feel any better. It had ended up airing the department's dirty laundry. So far, all he'd had to tell the mayor was that a large number of rapes had been solved, and that the perpetrator was dead.
He'd hoped to be able to tell the mayor that the person who killed the rapist had been tried and convicted too.
He hadn't been in touch with the mayor yet. Now, a week later, he couldn't help feeling that something was going to happen ... something bad ... something that would cause him problems. He sat staring at the reports from the IA investigation and the one the state patrol had sent him after their review.
He'd read both reports before. The commissioner had thought things were going to work out. A major offender had been identified, even if it had been done ass backwards, and a startling number of cases had been resolved. The offender wasn't a problem anymore, and he had expected there would be a murder conviction because of that. The commissioner liked murder convictions. They made the department look good.
But the way this case had shaken out made the department look like the Keystone Cops. He couldn't get any PR out of the deal, because one of the worst serial rape cases on the books wasn't even solved until a victim admitted she'd murdered the perpetrator. That made the department look bad. And if the media got hold of this not guilty business, somebody might dig and expose the rest.
The place he directed her to was a tiny hole-in-the-wall that she would have never given a second glance. She realized how hungry she was the instant she walked in, through the door Bob held for her, and the odor of wonderful, delicious things hit her like a sledge hammer. "Vinny!" Bob called out to a man, standing at the grill, wearing a white paper hat. Vinny looked over his shoulder, grinned, and held both hands up in the air, a spatula still in one. "You got me, copper," he said....
Lacey was ferrying a flash drive containing hundreds of photographs from the dig to the museum. A major discovery had been found. A collapsed cellar had been uncovered and, inside it, there were bones. Human bones. It wasn't clear yet how they had come to be there, but there were no indications of intentional burial. The artifacts found with the bodies suggested that people had taken refuge in the cellar and had died there. The pictures were needed at the museum as soon as possible, so that...
Bob had just left the briefing room, coming on shift. He hadn't even buckled his seat belt when the radio squawked to life, telling him of a multiple injury accident, with an explosion involved. Paramedics and the fire department were already on the scene. Three patrols were being dispatched, and all three were still in the parking lot, after the briefing in the squad room. Three engines roared, and three sirens began to wail, as tires screeched. It was impossible to get close to the...
When Bob went off shift, he returned to the hospital. "How come you're the only cop who ever checks on her?" asked the head nurse. "It's my case," he said bruskly. "How's she doing?" "Better," said the nurse. "She should be awake. All her vitals are normal. The sedative has been stopped. The only reason she's still in ICU is that she won't wake up." "I'll just sit with her for a while," said Bob. He'd stayed in uniform, since that got him almost anything he wanted, with...
Sleep came with difficulty for Bob. His mind roiled with the import of what he knew ... or thought he knew. He tried to convince himself that cars caught on fire all the time. There was only circumstantial evidence that the dead man was her rapist at all. Even the fact that there had been no more rapes with that modus operandi didn't prove anything. Like Lacey, no one had come forward to ask where their son, or brother, or father, or husband was. The crispy critter, still unidentified, was...
He took her to the impound lot, answering her questions when he thought he could do so safely, and dodging them or changing the subject when it got close to something he didn't want to talk about. She was appropriately awed by the damage to her car, and only glanced through the box of her possessions. The attendant brought out a bill for storage, and Bob tore it up. "Hey, you can't do that!" said the attendant. "I just did," said Bob. "The lady was in the hospital while it was...
He took her to Santini's. On the way, he told her a car had sideswiped hers, and that she hadn't been injured. While she was trying to help others involved in the accident, an explosion had occurred. He left it simple. "Explosion," she said, her voice far away. "I remember light ... all over ... I was submerged in light." "What else do you remember?" he asked, his voice guarded. "Just that. When you said explosion, it just came to me." When they walked into Santini's, Donna met...
Bob eventually slept, despite the erection between his legs that demanded attention. It was still demanding attention when he woke the next morning, with a soft, naked woman pressed against his body. It had been a long time since there had been a naked woman of any kind pressed against his body when he woke. That had been a result of long hours, and an unwillingness by Bob to turn over part of his life to any woman. It wasn't that he didn't like women ... it was more that he hadn't found a...
Bob went back to his apartment. The bed was still unmade and the wrinkled linens held the imprint of a bed that had been slept in by a couple. The pillow she'd used was lying against his own, like her head had lain close to his. On impulse, he bent to sniff the sheets where she had lain. They smelled like ... her. He hadn't missed the verbal slip that the doctor had made. She'd been about to say that as much as she would have liked to get naked with him, right there in the office, it...
Bob sat and read magazines, until there were none left to examine. There was no noise coming through the door—it was so quiet he felt like he was the only person on the planet. Eventually, his ears detected the hum of air being pushed here and there by the building's air handler units. He heard a siren dimly, through the walls, but no traffic noises. He checked his watch so frequently that he finally took it off and put it in his pocket. Finally, he dozed off. He woke, when the door opened...
Bob popped two Vivarin when he got into the squad car the next morning. She had kept him up all night, satisfying her own needs and making up for the dry spell Bob had been in. He felt drained, but also more relaxed than he'd been in years. He was no longer distracted, either. Lacey had another appointment with Claire, but he was no longer worried that she'd suddenly realize there was no past between them. That had already been addressed. Now all he had to worry about was the return of...
Lacey went back to see Claire ahead of schedule, and told her everything that had happened. Claire put her under again, and spent an hour exploring the details of the rape that she hadn't gone after earlier. As each horrible part of the assault was revealed, Claire worked more instructions into the dialog, intended to minimize the emotional impact of the memories. Then she brought Lacey out of the hypnotic trance and spent another hour with her, concentrating on the things that Lacey felt...
Bob heard her gasp as he left the bedroom. His head swiveled and he saw her standing there, bent slightly forward, her arm outstretched, hand turned sideways in a fist at the top of a candle. Her face was so pale it looked almost ghostly. Her mouth opened and an agonized groan was torn from her throat as she dropped the lighter and reeled backwards. Her eyes stared at the tall, pale yellow flame that the lighter had created at the tip of the candle, but her mind saw the same hand,...
Back in the apartment, Claire asked questions. They were not "What did you do?" type questions, but rather were "How do you feel about what you did?" type questions. Lacey didn't feel good about any of it. For the psychiatrist, it was like walking a tightrope. Or, perhaps it was like making her patient walk the tightrope. There needed to be remorse for a bad deed, for there to be health in the mind and spirit. But it could be taken too far, and the patient could begin to hate herself,...
She was adamant about keeping her appointment with Claire. He was glad she was going, because he had to go to work. He hoped Claire would talk some sense into her, and he made her promise not to do anything until she'd talked it over with him, no matter what she decided to do. She was waiting for him when he got home from his shift. She was calm, but looked drained. "I have to make this right," she said. "If you're sure about this, then it needs to be done right," he said...
Two weeks later Bob was coming home from the gym, still dressed in his sweats. McDill had instructed them, superfluously, not to see each other until after the trial. He had been noncommittal after his questioning of Bob, concerning what his defense would be. "I have some ideas," was all he'd say. Bob turned the last corner and started toward the entrance to his apartment building. A car pulled to a stop at the curb next to him and the window rolled down. "Get in!" came a male voice he...
Roger Schwartz grabbed his briefcase and hurried for the entrance/exit of the new suite of offices the prosecutor's staff was lucky to have just moved into. Lucille, his secretary, called out a cheery "Good luck!" as he sailed by her desk. "Don't need luck!" he yelled back, flashing her a grin. In fact, he believed that. He was one of the up and coming lawyers of a generation that believed skill would make "luck" an archaic term. If that seems a bit rash, perhaps it could be said...
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The next witness called after lunch was probably a poor choice for that particular spot in the lineup, but it hadn't been planned that way. It was the medical examiner who had done the autopsy on Kinneson's remains. Schwartz apologized to the jury for what they were about to hear, and then had the doctor describe the compound fracture in the victim's leg, which would have made it impossible for him to move around on his own. Then there was the testimony of the condition of the lungs, which...
It was day two of the trial and Roger was ready to produce testimony about the DNA identification of Gilbert Kinneson's remains. He had contacted Senior Technician Fred Simms, the lab supervisor, and hastily explained what he needed. Simms said it would be no problem. Schwartz tried to be as clear about things as possible. "Now I know that there were a lot of tests done on the DNA from the body," said Roger. "That's not germane to the issue in this trial. All I need is an overview of...
Instead of calling the first defense witness, Matthew now exercised his right to cross examine Officer Robert Duncan. Once Bob was on the stand, and had been reminded he was still under oath, Matthew began what he believed in his own mind was some of the most important questioning he'd do. He didn't want to ruin Bob, but uppermost in his mind was Lacey's welfare. "When did you first meet my client?" was his first question. Bob named the date and said, "I needed to interview her as the...
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"Has the jury reached a verdict?" asked Judge Gunderson. Maggie stood. "We have, your honor." The bailiff took the folded piece of paper from her hand and walked it to the judge. He opened it. He looked at the jury, and then back at the paper. "Was this unanimous?" he asked. "Yes, sir," said Maggie. Gunderson handed the paper back to the bailiff, who returned it to Maggie. "The defendant will stand," intoned the judge. Lacey and McDill stood. Lacey looked like she might fall...
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Mera naam shalini hai. Agar aap meri is kahani se mere sath Jude hai to aap ko mere baare me Bata du. Mera rang ekdam gora aur baal lambe Kamar tak aate hai. Meri chuchiya ekdam gol aur bade hai aur nipples Kale aur bohot ubhare hue hai jo blouse aur bra k bas me hi nhi aate aur mere gaand ke ubhar ko dekhkar to kisi bhi mard ka Lund khada ho jaye. Meri choot ke honth ekdum rasile aur itne mote hai ki panty me to tik hi nhi pate. Mere badan ko dekhkar bohot se mard apni aankho se apne man ki...
After my meeting with Monk, I was optimistic that we could all coexist until spring at least. So I went home and to work. I was pretty much locked in the compound all the time. I tried to ride my bike any time I could squeeze a few hours away from the still. The old moonshiners said there wasn't time to do anything, but make liquor when you were making liquor. I got that feeling for sure. When the fermented mash went into to the cooker it was as demanding as a baby. I ran up to 170 in a few...
Tuesday, May 3, 2005 (Continued) I started forcing my way through the crowd around the table. People were happy to let me out, because that meant they could slip closer to see how incredible a roulette ball sitting in pocket number 25 looked. Once I was through the worst of the crowd, I looked at my watch, playacting for my terribly late mythical girlfriend. I noticed that it was still early enough that Prof might be able to get our winnings wired into our bank before they closed for the...
A Final Tribute – Time to say goodbye(First – let me start by saying I have had a great time on xhamster.com! Most of the people I met – either male or female…have been amazing. Some became good friends, a few broke my heart a little, but almost everyone I met made me smile and more than a few made me cum. ? This is a farewell story. I have decided to leave the fantasy world and re-join the real world. Ut this will not be an easy good-bye. It will take some time to get out. But you can...