Stephanie
Isabelle squeezed my hand tightly. Her nervousness about having me out in public increased my anxiety. I felt everyone's eyes on me as Isabelle and I entered the courtroom, hand in hand. Pretending I was at another photoshoot helped me ignore their stares. We sat on the last bench, closest to the exit. Tank and Vince stood outside the courtroom doors to watch our backs.
I wore made my eyes appear bluer. My daughter wore a pale blue dress with leggings instead of tights. Some women gave her a disapproving look, but I didn't care. She looked pretty. Her hair got French braided at the sides. I smiled at the memory of Carlos braiding her hair after eating breakfast.
Isabelle sat between Lester and me. She leaned into my side for comfort. Carlos reached over my lap to squeeze Isabelle's hand. "I'm proud of you," Carlos told our daughter. The adoption got processed immediately after Joseph Morelli's guilty ruling.
"Thanks, dad," she whispered. Isabelle's spine stiffened when the bailiff escorted Joseph Morelli and Helen Plum into the courtroom. I thought Helen would get sentenced later that afternoon. "It's better this way," Isabelle whispered. I couldn't have agreed more. We wouldn't have to return to the courthouse.
"All rise for the honourable Justice Judith Sterling," the bailiff announced. Everyone in the courtroom stood and waited for Sterling's order to sit.
"Joseph Anthony Morelli, please stand," Judith ordered. Joe stood from his chair. His cuffed hands rested against his stomach. "You were found guilty of tampering with evidence. Interfering in a government investigation. Conspiracy to commit murder." She listed a few more charges which surprised me. Endangerment of a minor? Wow.
"I sentence you to five years for each count of investigation tapering. I have added another five years for endangering a minor. And fifteen years for conspiracy to commit murder," Sterling said. I added the years. Joseph Morelli would spend at least forty years in prison. Isabelle shook her head in disgust.
Sterling told Morelli to sit and asked Helen Elaine Plum to stand. Helen received thirty years in prison. Though charged with obstruction and possession of evidence, Judith believed Helen didn't know about Morelli planting it inside her house. Helen received the least number of years for those offences, but she got twenty-five years for conspiracy to murder and hiring the hitman.
"Bailiff, take Morelli and Plum to holding until their transport arrives," Judith Sterling ordered.
Helen recognized me as she walked past. "It's all your fault, you ungrateful little whore. I should have killed you when you were born," Helen screamed. "I should have shoved you harder from the roof to break your neck instead of your arm."
I felt broken. Why? I had no clue Helen tried to kill me. How did I forget? I jumped off the roof, right? She pushed me? My feet disappeared from beneath me. Someone was carrying me to a car. I could hear people talking, but I got lost inside my broken mind. Darkness overtook me after I felt a prick on my arm.
A few hours had passed when I opened my heavy eyelids. "Beautiful, are you okay now?" Lester asked.
"Isa? Carlos?" I asked.
"They're worried about you. Isa is in the gym with Carlos. Should I get them?"
I nodded. Lester sent a text to someone, probably Bobby. He'd want to ensure I was fine after he injected me with a sedative. "What happened?"
"Bobby had to sedate you. We couldn't get you to talk. Did Helen's hateful words hurt you?" Lester asked. He looked into my eyes for some sign of what I was feeling.
"I didn't know she pushed me off the roof. In my mind, I jumped. I feel broken," I confessed.
"When you are feeling broken, remember that a kaleidoscope is made of broken pieces. When we look into it… we see something beautiful," Lester said. He caressed my cheek. "You are a beautiful person inside and out. I'm sorry your mother never saw you for the remarkable woman you are."
"It's fine, Les. I thought I had moved past the pain she caused. Thanks for staying with me. I'm sure you had more important things to do."
"Nope," he said.
The apartment door opened. Isabelle ran towards me. "Thank god you're okay, mom. I was worried," Isabelle cried.
"I'm sorry for scaring you, sweetie." I held my daughter as she cried. Isabelle had officially lost her grandmother and father in one day. She thought I was gone too. I gently lifted Isabelle's head to look into her eyes. "I'll be fine, Isa. It will take hours hitting the punching bags to get over it."
"I didn't know grandma hated you that much," Isabelle whispered. "I'm glad she's going to prison."
"Me too," I replied. Helen Plum deserved whatever the universe could throw at her. "What did you do in the gym?"
Isabelle smiled when she looked at me. "I kicked Uncle Cal's ass." I laughed. "What grandma said to you made me angry. Uncle Cal let me punch him. I got to use the kickboxing and boxing lessons," Isabelle proudly said.
"Did it make you feel better?" I wondered. Isabelle shrugged. "It helped a bit, but you were still worried about me?"
"Yes," Isabelle replied. "I'm better now because I know you're going to be okay."
I was glad when Isabelle relaxed. "See if Tia Ella has chocolate cake," I suggested. Isabelle grinned. She kissed my forehead before running to her bedroom to shower and change. "Huh. I thought she'd forgo the shower for the dessert."
"Babe," Carlos said, shaking his head. Carlos waited until Isabelle left the apartment. "Morelli got transferred an hour ago. Helen got picked up. She should be on the way to prison." Carlos raised an eyebrow when I turned on the news channel.
"I'm seeing if the bets are right?" I asked. "I said she'd die in an accident during transport."
"Isabelle said heart attack," Carlos reminded me. "What if she died from a heart attack the accident had caused during transport?"
"Hmm. I don't know. Who do you get to decide these nuances?" I asked.
Carlos grinned, then called Jandro, Rangeman's criminal defence lawyer. Jandro lived in Boston but could practice in the states where Rangeman had an office. "Montez," Jandro answered. "What's up, boss?"
"And Steph," I hollered. Jandro laughed, then greeted me too. "I have a question. Ranger said you decided the winner of the bets. I put one hundred on dying during a transport accident but upped the amount to two hundred. I left the "what killed her" up to the cosmos. She only had to die after an accident. Isabelle bet heart attack."
"Um. Then however the person dies determines the winner," Jandro logically explained. Carlos took pity on me and described his specific scenario. "Steph, you matched Isabelle's bet?" he asked to clarify. I agreed that I had indeed increased my amount. "Then you split the spoils, fifty-fifty."
"Is that your professional opinion?" I asked.
Jandro laughed, then replied, "Yes. Lester said the transports are occurring today?"
"As we speak," Carlos replied. "When are you coming?"
"In the morning," Jandro replied, making me wonder what they were planning. "See you then." He hung up.
"So Isa and I both win if Helen Plum dies of a heart attack after an accident." Carlos shook his head.
"Only you, Babe."
Helen
How did they find the evidence? I thought everything got encrypted. The emails got hidden in subfolders. Giacomo said to delete them. I thought hiding them was my safeguard to protect myself. Giacomo has friends in high places. He could have me killed by snapping his fingers. What was I thinking? When he learned I messed up our plan, he'd be furious.
Why didn't Valerie help Joey and me? My lawyer said Valerie divorced him. How could she do that to Joey? What about her daughters? I noticed Belle was with my good for nothing whore of a daughter. When did that skank return to Trenton? How did she get Belle? I bet she kidnapped my oldest granddaughter. How else could she get the girl? I want that Testa money. I deserved that money.
"It's time," the state marshal announced. I rolled my eyes, then pushed my hands through the hole in the bars. The man clicked the handcuffs on my wrists before unlocking the door. I had to wait for the officer to attach the shackles to my ankles. The marshal connected them with a length of chain. I had to shuffle to walk. How embarrassing. It was all Stephanie's fault. I wouldn't be in this position if I smothered her. Valerie would have inherited everything.
The marshal pushed me, forcing me to shuffle faster. I pinched my lips together. There was no point protesting or telling him to stop. He could taser me or use brute force to make me move. It would be more embarrassing if they had to carry me from the TPD's cell. I squeaked when the transport driver helped the marshal lift me onto the bus. The steps were too far apart for me to step up. Cameras clicked as the vipers stood behind a line of officers, controlling the crowd. Why me?
"What do we have here?" a nasal voice asked. I looked at the woman. She resembled the crazy cat woman, Eleanor Abernathy, in the Simpson's cartoon. Her hair was wild and knotted. The woman was missing several teeth.
"Sit down, Bates," the driver ordered.
"Bite me," she snarled. I watched the woman sit in the seat at the back. There were only three other women on the bus. "I saved you a seat, darling." She winked when I looked at her. Goodness me. What was the woman doing?
The marshal ordered everyone to the back. How would they get me inside without the women rushing them? Bates walked toward the gate. Her leg shackles and chain prevented her from getting close. I wondered why they didn't have seating within two feet of the door.
"Get inside," the marshal yelled. I moved into the area. A few officers stood behind me, hands on their weapons. The driver attached my shackle chain to the ring bolted to the floorboard. Two more marshals got onto the bus. Did they expect me to overtake them? I scoffed in disgust. The marshal stood at the exit to guard the prisoners.
I thought the jail door closing was frightening. It was nothing compared to hearing the marshal locking us into the back of the bus. I felt like a caged dog. The air felt thick. It was hard to breathe. The stench of urine was overwhelming.
Once I sat on a bench, the driver sat on his seat and closed the door. Something sticky covered the vinyl. I fought back nausea. The driver went over a bump. I bounced on the seat, releasing the stench of vomit from the foam. My teeth clenched closed while I suppressed the urge to gag.
"What's wrong, darling? Is our limousine not up to your standards?" Bates asked. I ignored her. The clanking chains were my only warning. "Listen here, bitch. I'm the queen on this bus." Her breath stank of decay. I leaned forward to cover my mouth. My hands couldn't reach. I attempted to bury my face in my shoulder.
"Leave me alone," I whispered. My back and shoulders hurt from the uncomfortable seats.
"What was that, darling? Are you asking me to go away?" Bates demanded. I shook my head. My heart raced. With Bates sitting beside me, the air was too thick to breathe.
I looked up in time to see the truck run the red light. It hit the bus, causing it to flip. I braced myself. Bates flew across the bus, smashing her head against the bulletproof glass. Blood ran from her forehead. I should help her, but I didn't have medical supplies.
The bus was on its roof. My heart rate increased. I felt a building sense of panic. What was happening to me? My palms were damp, slipping off the metal attached to the bench seat. I felt warm fluid run down my face. Leaning forward, I watched the red water drip onto my hand. My head was bleeding. Nausea and intense headache indicated I likely had a concussion.
I started hyperventilating. My breaths were shallow. It was becoming increasingly difficult to draw in a deep breath. I felt pain radiating in my upper back, and my neck hurt. Nausea increased. It felt like a severe case of heartburn. Shortness of breath made me think I was having an anxiety attack. I needed a paper bag to breathe in. Fluttering in my chest gave me hope that the anxiety was dissipating.
"Is everyone okay?" the marshal asked. I couldn't respond.
Dizziness overwhelmed me. The fluttering in my chest increased. I leaned over to vomit. The sirens from the ambulances sounded in the background. People yelled for us to get free of the bus. Gasoline leaked from the tank. A tiny spark would set it on fire. My chest ached. It hurt to breathe. I deduced I had broken a few ribs. At least, that was how Joseph described the sensation. I prayed they didn't puncture my lungs.
The sirens sounded as though they were getting farther away. I couldn't understand why the medics weren't helping us. Was it because we're prisoners? Doesn't anyone care about us? I tried to call for help. My word sounded like a moan.
I could hear the other women groaning and crying. A whooshing sound went past my ears before everything went black. "She's having a heart attack," a faint voice yelled.
"Get the fibrillation machine," someone whispered. I felt something touch my chest. A jolt passed through my chest. My body reflectively jerked. The voices got quieter. I felt a weaker jolt before I felt nothing.
A bright light shone into my eyes. "Stop," I screamed.
"I'm disappointed in you, Helen," a man said. I concentrated on the voice. The room was too bright to see anything. When I placed the voice belonging to my father, he appeared.
"What are you doing here, dad?"
"Escorting you to purgatory. You have to atone for your many sins." What? I didn't do anything wrong. "Now, now, Helen. You know that isn't true. Confessing every Sunday never stopped your behaviour. You had never followed the priest's guidance. You substituted hail Marys for your penance. It's time to pay for your sins."
"No," I cried. "I'm sorry. Let me go back and beg Stephanie for forgiveness."
"It's too late, Helen. You're already dead."