-1Hey Guys,

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Chapter Ten

August 28th 0800

He stood in front of the grave, awkward in his suit and tie, hands buried deeply in his pockets, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Wandering what he was going to say. Wondering, too, why it had been so important for him to be here.

"Hey Pop."

Jason shifted again, looking hurriedly over his shoulder, looking around the silent empty graveyard.

"They released me on Saturday, Pop, on bail." He scratched at his clean shaven jaw. "I don't know how Jess was able to pay for it. She must have put her apartment up, or got a loan or something. She's really took charge since…."

He fell silent, the sun rising behind him, casting his shadow across his father's grave.

"Mom's been.."

He stopped again, shaking his head, his words swallowed by bitterness and anger. "Why, Pop?" Why did you have to make things this way? Why did you have to treat Mom like that? Why did you have to drive Jess away? Why did you have to make things so damn difficult?"

He stabbed a finger towards the grave, face flushed with anger. "And don't you fucking dare blame it on the drink! I drank with you, you sonofabitch and…"

The anger drained away as quickly as it had come, his hand falling limply to his side, leaving him weary and spent. "I never meant for this to happen, Pop. This is all my fault."

He ran his trembling hand through his hair, the sun already sweltering and warm against his back. "She was going to leave, Pop, did you know that? Jess had talked her into leaving. I made her stay. I made her stay with you. This is all my fault."

The grave didn't answer, remaining silently judgemental, damning, uncaring.

"Its all my fault."

He fell silent, wondering what else there was to say, what else there was to confess.

"She's on trial, Pop. It starts today. Jess has…the lawyer she's hired, she thinks she can win, thinks she can get Mom off." He shrugged, uselessly, helplessly. "I don't know what they're going to do with me. I guess it doesn't matter."

His eyes traced the wreaths, carefully arranged after the service, wondering who would come and tend the grave, knowing his mother would. "You deserved it. Everything you got, you stupid sonofabitch." He turned his back, grief, guilt and anger warring within him, threatening to spill out like drops of blood.

"Be seeing you, Pop."

xxxXXXxxx

The note was brief, terse and to the point.

"My office. ASAP."

Nick knocked on the door of his office. "Jim? You wanted to see me?"

He looked up, his eyes dark and angry. "Yes, I did." He pointed at the chair on the other side of his desk with the end of a pencil. "Close the door. Sit down." He threw a folded copy of the Post across the desk. "Explain that to me."

Nick lifted the paper, his eyes skimming across the photo, his own face clearly visible. He nodded, dropping the paper back onto his desk. So that was what all this was about.

"Well?"

"I went to the funeral."

"Why, Nick? You know that this makes the Bureau look…"

"She's my friend and she's just lost…"

Jim raised his voice talking over his objections. "It makes us look like we're sympathising with a murder suspect."

His temper snapped, as brittle as a twig. "To hell with how the Bureau looks! My friend has just lost her father! Going to the funeral was the least I could do!"

"I realise it's a difficult situation, for all of us, given the circumstances…"

"No, its not. It's not difficult at all! You're stabbing her in the back. You're supposed to be her friend." He laughed bitterly, wondering what Jim could hear in his voice. "Hell, you're supposed to be more than that!" He shifted irritably from foot to foot, toying with his tie. "Are we done?"

"Yeah." Jim looked away from him, the case photos scattered around his office mocking his protests. "Yeah, we're done."

xxxXXXxxx

"All I really need you to do is to look honest." Julie smiled mockingly. "The jury expects lawyers to lie. I need you to look like you've heard Joanna Rossi's story and that you believe her."

"And if I believe it, then they should believe it as well?"

"Exactly. We need to remind the jury that Joanna Rossi is the victim, especially when the people are presenting their case. They're going to play on how they tried to cover up the shooting, the purchase of the weapon, try and paint Joanna as a cold blooded killer."

Just like they had done with her. Just like he had done.

"What about the son? Jason?"

"I might need to put him on the stand, just to paint the family situation as clearly as we can." She shrugged, thinking quickly. "I might need you to take that one."

"Me?"

Julie nodded. "It might sound better coming from you. You're closer to his age and he knows you. His testimony will sound better, less rehearsed, if he's more relaxed."

She fell silent, staring out the window, lost in thought as they drove towards the courthouse.

xxxXXXxxx

August 5th

"I realise this must be very difficult for you."

The woman nodded mutely, her face pockmarked with bruises, twisting a tear stained tissue between shaking hands. Her eyes wide and frightened, fixed on Jessica.

"Has he done this before? Has he hurt you like this before?"

She nodded, tears tearing fresh streaks through her make up, through her efforts to hide the beatings. She was barely out of her teens. Too young for what she had been through.

"How many times?"

"Five." The girl's voice was hoarse and it shook as she fought to control her emotions. "Five times. It started at Easter."

"Why didn't you leave? Why didn't you call the cops?"

The girl shrugged as if the thought had never occurred to her. "He promised me he'd change. And I believed him."

xxxXXXxxx

August 28th 0945

"Mom! Mom, are you okay?" Jessica took her by the elbow, guiding her mother onto one of the hard uncomfortable chairs outside the court room.

"I'm okay." Joanna pressed the tips of her fingers against the bridge of her nose, letting the noise and the bustle of the court room wash across her. "I just need to sit down for a minute." She leaned back against the wall, grateful for the momentary peace. "Where's your brother?"

"On his way. He phoned this morning, said he had something to do this morning." She took her mother's hand, cold in spite of the heat inside the court house. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"No." Joanna's smile was humourless. "I'm terrified. I feel like I'm going to be sick." Her face paled, sweat beading on her forehead. "Oh God, I'm going to be sick."

Joanna leaned forward, sucking in gasps of air, her stomach twisting and writhing, clenching like a fist. "I cant do this, Jessica. I cant. What I did…"

"Mom, you can't give up." Jessica crouched, still holding her mothers hand, staring into dark eyes so like her own. "You can't let him win. Not now. You've got to stand up to him."

xxXXXxxx

August 5th

"Joseph? Would you like some dinner?"

He didn't look at her, his mouth sucking greedily on another bottle of beer, his attention focused on the ball game. A number of empties lay, carelessly arranged around his chair, the air thick with the smell of beer and cigarette smoke.

Joanna shrugged, backing slowly away from him, retreating into the kitchen, moving carefully so not to make a noise. He didn't like to be disturbed when he was watching the game.

She sat down at the table, staring at the remains of her own dinner, the meal she had cooked slowly turning into a congealing mess in the saucepans.

She didn't mind it when he ignored her. Better that than the alternative.

No. Not the only alternative.

His voice rose, slurred and angry, swearing at the television. Despite herself, she flinched, glancing worriedly at the kitchen door.

She shook her head speaking as loudly as her fragile, weak courage would allow her. "You wont hurt me again."

Her husband ignored her, her voice lost under the noise of the television.

xxxXXXxxx

August 28th 1000

"All rise, People Vs Joanna Rossi, Jason Joseph Rossi, the Honourable Judge Bryce Holland presiding."

The Judge took his seat. "Be seated." He peered at the docket information through fine rimmed glasses. "Who have we got here?"

"Jim Steele for the People."

"Julie Phelps and Michelle Sinclair for the Joanna and Jason Rossi, Your Honour."

"Two clients, Ms. Phelps?"

"Yes, Your Honour. It's our belief that the two cases…."

She trailed off as the Judge raised his hand. "Okay, Ms. Phelps. Save your argument for the relevant place. How do your clients plead?"

"Not guilty." She glanced at Jim. "Mr. Rossi would like to plead guilty on the firearms charge, but I would ask the court to take that, and the family situation into consideration."

"Very well." Bryce Holland made a note on the docket and glanced around the court room, focusing on Jim Steele and Julie Phelps with penetrating blue eyes. "I'll hear opening statements."

End Of Chapter Ten

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