Murder One

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 1

He turned the key half-heartedly, and jerked the door forward before throwing it behind him again as he stepped inside. After firing the clattering keys on the flower stand, he ran a cool hand over his face, whilst the heavy briefcase weighed down the other. He disposed of it with a stressed sigh. Considering how the day went, he shouldn't be feeling like this - he shouldn't feel this emptiness anymore. The trial was won, he'd done his job - what more did he want? Theodore Hoffman never ended a successful defence with such a rain-cloud over his head. He lived and breathed the life of law. This was the case of his career, and he proved to the world he was just about the best damn defence lawyer money could buy. But what had he proved to himself?

He glanced around, letting another sigh pass through his nearly closed mouth. He felt unsatisfied, and whilst he was forced to adjust to a certain gnawing emptiness, he had expected it to leave tonight. It hadn't. It was the feeling he had since the first night he had stayed in room 332, and every single night he opened the door, the desolateness crept upon him and at times nearly made him feel like he was suffocating. But Ted wished it was as simple as blaming the room.

The lime-toned floral theme did not provide him with a desirable surrounding. He originally thought he would only have to put up with the frilly covers for a few days, or a couple of weeks at the most. But after the divorce settlements, he knew he'd have to get used of it for much longer. It was now 2 months since he first checked in and he still detested the rough, woolly carpet, the powder-green walls decorated with copied paintings and the petal-patterned bed and curtains. He fell onto the heavy duvet, letting the top half of his body limply leaning forward whilst balancing it with his elbows on his knees. Even the hotel bed covers got to him. It didn't matter how fancy the room was, or how he felt about the décor. All that mattered was that it just wasn't his own room or bed, it wasn't his bed at home in Brentwood - his bed at home with Annie.

When they first moved into the village, the modern California house had nothing but bare cement walls and creaking chipped floorboards. It wasn't long before Annie fixed all that. Whilst he did what he did best and worked at his own new firm, his wife done what she done best and stayed home looking after their house. By 2 months she had amazingly transformed the house into a home. The ageless interior chosen was pleasant and had her loving touch. She had picked a midnight-blue theme for their bedroom, which he noticed more now, in his mind, than he ever had whilst he lived there. He wanted the bed he sat on to be the rich, velvet-like bed they shared. He wished it were the large, classic room filled with dark-wood furniture in which he sat, and more than anything, he ached for her to be beside him, for her warmth under his chin and her sweet scent as he drifted to sleep. He'd settle for that, whether he was at home or not.

God, he missed his wife more than ever. And he missed his daughter. He felt like opening the door and make his way down the hall to kiss her soft, angelic face as she slept. Despite his hectic schedule, he had done it every night without fail until he moved out. The separation had taken a huge toll on him, and the divorce settlements were worse, but what effect would it have on his 10-year-old daughter? How would she cope with the break-up? Lizzie had been such a happy child, who enjoyed the simplicities of life around her. Ted and Annie were quick to spoil their only child with love and affection, but her mother was also adamant to make her appreciate all she had. No one considered that she'd have to appreciate a happy family – wasn't everyone supposed to have that! Every time he went to pick her up, her face looked less and less childlike, as if she was being forced to grow up quicker. The bounce in her step had gone, and the carefree, cheerful voice became an unenthusiastic whisper. It was killing him to see the break-up killing her. Though he didn't request or want the separation, he had come to blame himself hugely for the breakdown of the marriage.

After getting ready for bed and uncomfortably settling in between the sheets, he still couldn't sleep. It was hard to imagine not having to get up at 7 am and enter the office worrying about the case in which had been the entirety his life for half a year. The realisation of it all being over and his victory in defending Neil Avedon of murder hadn't registered yet. Ted hardly remembered what life was like before taking on 'The Goldilocks Case'. It had sucked all of his attention, leaving little time for anything else. What was he to do with himself now? Sure, there'd probably be a bigger case waiting for him the next time he entered the office, but there'd be nothing waiting for him when it was all over, when he got home, just as he had tonight.

Ted had always believed passionately in his job and the law system of the United States of America. No work could compare in satisfying him other than the work of his own firm. He had dedicated and sacrificed so much to be laying in bed a successful lawyer right now, but was the sacrifice worth it when weighed up to that of his job? If the firm was his life and air, why did he feel dead and breathless now?

He guessed why as the latest conversations, or arguments, he and Annie had shared replayed before him. He remembered her frustratingly telling him his family should be more important to him. He had never considered otherwise, but then again, looking back, he hadn't showed that too well. Involuntarily, the staff at the firm saw much more of him than his wife and daughter, but the job kept him so preoccupied; he never had much time to dwell on missing them. Ted subconsciously knew they'd be waiting to see him whenever he got time to actually go home. It was only now when they were gone that he noticed how much of a solid foundation they provided. Whether he won or lost any case, he had always come home to her and his daughter and felt automatically better. With them behind him, Ted Hoffman was able to tackle the challenges of the next day, thinking of the future positively. As he turned in the bed, the path ahead suddenly looked darker than ever before. It was the first time in his life when he felt so lost and wounded. He had made grave mistakes in the courtroom before and he had lost important cases due to silly slip-ups, but he got over it and moved on. Why couldn't things be so simple now? Why couldn't he simply move on anymore?

These questions plagued him, tormenting every thought in which entered his racing mind. The restless state caused him to shift and toss more in the bed until eventually he could no longer keep his eyes closed. He couldn't find any answers, but there was an option. He stared at the silhouetted stretched outline of the room barely visible on the ceiling as he summed up the courage he needed. He searched for the voice within to support him and tell him he was doing the right thing, and after the eternity of laying paralysed in fear, he found it. Now he needed that voice from outside to support him. His wife had brought these questions to play, and if there were any answers, she had them.

He rolled from his back to his left side, reaching into the humid, dark night air. His almost numb fingers made their way around the top of the locker, trying to grip the thin chord of the lamp. It was a hard catch, but he eventually steadied the white string and tugged it hard. The glowing beam stung his eyes momentarily, and as soon as he was able to even wince, he propped himself up further and leant on his elbow as he awkwardly picked up the slender phone receiver. He didn't even have to look at the buttons as he dialled. As soon as he heard the ring tone, any minuet amount of courage he had gathered while lying stiffly in bed had suddenly gone. He had little time to retreat as the surprisingly quick answer on the other side of the line suddenly broke through, "Hello…."

She had answered fast, and sounded awake. "Hey, Annie, it's me," he found himself reply, "I hope I'm not waking you….." "Ted!" She asked, surprised and with a hint of relief. A slight smile came upon his face as he heard her speak, "Yeah, it's Ted. I know it's real late, but I just….just wanted to talk." He wasn't sure what to say after his subtle revelation of slight weakness, "You sound awake – you okay?" "Sorry if I sounded a bit short when I answered, I thought it might have been a reporter – they ring at any hour you know. I'm glad it's you." His smile grew as the last sentence reached his ear. Of course, she may have been happy just because it was anybody but a reporter, but he was also glad it was him and not somebody else, "You sure I'm not calling too late Annie?" he hesitantly asked, wanting to reassure himself that he wasn't burdening her. It was hard to have to act so conscious around someone who knew him better than anyone else ever had. "Not at all Ted – we promised we'd be hear if either of us needed each other, and I don't know about you, but I'm gonna keep that promise." Her tone wasn't harsh, but her words bit. He let a defeated sigh release from his uncomfortable body as he wondered how to react. Thankfully Annie answered before he could, "I'm sorry Teddy, I didn't mea….I shouldn't have said that. We've been through it a million times, and I understand you've been so busy. I really didn't mean that the way it sounded." Even in her apologetic, sweetest tone, her voice still sounded husky. "Ann, it's fine don't worry about it," he answered, in an equally whisperish manner, "I'm not going to blame you for telling the truth. I haven't been around enough for you or for Lizzie, and I've come to realise that right now tonight more than I ever have. I know we've been through this, again and again, but I can't….I' can't …...I just……" his words got stuck, and he could even feel them in his throat. For the first time in a long time, he became self-conscious of what he was saying. Being a man prided on strength, he struggled to keep himself composed. Her reassuring coaxes in his ear relaxed him somewhat, "Teddy, tell me what's wrong. Please, I'm here. What is it you can't do?" He breathed heavy, allowing him to control his voice as he slowly answered, "We've been over everything so many times, but I can't leave it at where it's been left…you've done what you had to, you've had space to think. I've had my first space tonight for as long as I can remember, and after all the thinking I've been doing, tonight is the first time I could worry about everything except my job," he explained, keeping his words steady, "Now that the trial's over, I've had my space to think Annie, and I need to just talk with you and tell you what I've been thinking. I know, I said some stuff to you in the office tonight, and it still stands, but all I'm asking here is for you to hear me out, just this once, just this last time…"

The silence that followed made him nervous. He had just thrown himself on the table and it was now or never. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, and he wasn't fully sure if he wanted to know, but when he heard her clear her throat, he felt his mouth go dry. "Ted, do you want to come over?" She appeared unsure too, and her surprising offer caught him completely off guard. He hadn't even considered it – he hadn't wanted to talk things out over the phone naturally, but he'd expected maybe she'd arrange to meet up during the week if at all. His mind became mixed up again as he frantically looked around for his watch, "You sure Annie? What time is it?" "It's 2.15. If you're too tired, I understand. I expected you to be exhausted and well asleep by now!" "Yeah, I am exhausted, but I can't really sleep." There was a long pause again as he wondered as to where she was directing all this. "I can't sleep either, Ted," she confessed. He noticed a quiver in her voice as she continued, "I think…I think we need to talk too, but we can arrange it for again if you want…" He wasn't clear on what to do, but hearing a hurt in her voice made him want to be beside her all the more. His emotions had become so strong was that he wanted to talk to her as soon as he could and get them off his chest. There was no time like the present! "No, no it's not too late…" he reassured, "I didn't ring you to get you out of bed and listen to me whine, but I think I'd like to get a few things outta the way." "Fine, but just be warned there were two reporters outside earlier – I didn't see them when I left the garbage out after 12, but they've been known to build themselves cosy little spots in the hedges." He emitted a breathless laugh with her storytelling abilities. His humour was selective, but Annie made anything sound entertaining to him. Sounding lighter, he said his goodbye, "I'll keep watch, don't worry. I'll be there in 15 minutes."