A hoarse scream emanated from Susannah as her arms swung wildly, the loosening IV setting off alarms. “Go away! All of you—go away!”
Clutching Cole’s arm, Linda maneuvered his body toward the door as Susannah’s cries echoed down the hall.
63
FRIDAY, AUGUST 15, 2003, AFTERNOON ST. LOUIS CITY JUSTICE CENTER
Emma had been in jail for five days. This was a life she had never, ever thought would be hers, but she would have to accept it.
She hadn’t known what to expect, but certainly not this. There were no guards posted outside barred cells, as she had imagined. Instead, they mingled with the inmates in what she had been told was the “direct supervision” model. Cameras and computer screens monitored guards’ and inmates’ every move.
The food wasn’t that bad. There was only one item so far that she couldn’t stomach—powdered scrambled eggs. Their rubbery texture made her gag.
Emma stretched out on her bunk. Sleeping was almost impossible, even with lights out at nine o’clock. There were three other women in her “pod,” most here on drug-related charges. Their every restless movement kept her wide awake, giving her too many stretches of watching herself shooting Susannah Williams again and again.
Learning that Susannah was not just guilty of fraud but had also been arrested and charged with multiple homicides didn’t give Emma any sense that her deed had been a virtuous one. In fact, the truth sickened her and made her regret her actions more. I should have let the authorities handle her. She figured dealing with the “I should haves” was part of her punishment.
The charges were attempted murder in the first degree, and Emma knew jail was inevitable. Her lawyer, Maya Holbeck, initially thought an insanity defense was an option, but a psychiatric evaluation determined Emma knew right from wrong. She herself recognized that she wasn’t insane.
She leaned her head against the cool brick wall and closed her eyes. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. What in God’s name have I done? Poor Jack. The milestones I’ll miss—Elizabeth and Katrina’s college graduations, weddings, grandchildren. And the worst part is Mom’s financial situation is the same. I’m grateful she doesn’t know her daughter tried to commit murder.
Emma was startled at the sound of the pod door unlocking via the click of a computer. A female guard named Sykes entered to escort her to a private room for the meeting.
“Okay, Duncan, your attorney is here. I’ll take you downstairs.”
Emma slid off her bunk in her beige prison jumpsuit. That was interesting—Maya was early, over an hour.
“Give me a minute, will you?” At the stainless-steel sink, Emma splashed water on her face to wash the tear stains away. She dried her face and ran a comb through her wavy hair.
Sykes led her into the hallway. Talk filled the air as they passed the dayroom. Inmates lounged on gray sofas watching The Oprah Winfrey Show on the big screen television or engaging in games at the recreation tables. She noticed a guard playing along.
Everything is so, so bright, Emma thought. Light filled the great room. They walked across the room and past the main guard stationed at a podium and computer screen.
On the floor holding the interview rooms, Sykes punched in a code on the keypad to open the door. Emma wasn’t expecting to see Jack with Maya.
“Call if you need anything, Counselor,” Sykes said to Maya. The door shut behind her.
The metal furniture seemed molded to the floor. The walls and doors were almost blinding in their sheer whiteness. Instinctively, Emma reached for Jack. She hugged him tight and pulled back. “Not that I don’t love to see you, but this is unexpected.”
“I have some news,” he said. The somber look across Jack’s features told her the news was not good.
Emma’s temple furrowed in concern. “Are Elizabeth and Katrina all right?”
“Yes, they’re fine.” Jack said quietly. “It’s Ruth.”
Relief that the girls were all right tugged against the apprehension in Jack’s words regarding her mother. “What is it—another stroke?”
Jack grasped her hand, his fingers caressing her knuckles. “Em, yes, it was another stroke—‘a massive hemispheric infarction’ is what the doctors called it. Ruth died early this morning.”
Ruth died early this morning. Jack’s words kept repeating themselves in Emma’s head. She remained motionless, trying to make sense of this.
When the words finally came, they squeaked out of her dry mouth. “She’s gone, and I didn’t even get to say good-bye.” Sobs shook Emma’s body. She pulled her hand out of Jack’s tender grasp, dropping her head into her own open hands.
Jack moved closer, and Emma felt his large arms envelop her trembling body. “Get it all out, Em,” he whispered, gently rocking her.
For several minutes, the only sounds in the confines of the small room were Emma’s sobs.
“If I had just kept my anger under control, I could have been there for Mom in her final days. Now she’s gone, and I’m in jail charged with attempted murder. Why the hell did I think shooting Susannah Williams would get Mom her money back?” Emma’s face was wet.
Her shoulders heaved up and down as another wave of sobs engulfed her. She laid her head on Jack’s shoulder.
Maya handed Emma a Kleenex. “I think I may have some reasonably good news, given the circumstances.”
Emma lifted her head, accepting Maya’s tissue, and dabbed at her glistening eyes. “I guess it can’t be much worse.” She sniffled and wiped her nose.
The lawyer removed a folder from her leather briefcase. “You could be facing life in prison, but there’s a deal on the table. The DA agrees that there are clearly extenuating circumstances that led to your actions.”
Holding Emma close, Jack asked for clarification. “What does ‘extenuating circumstances’ mean?”
“In the simplest of terms,” Maya said, “extenuating circumstances mean facts surrounding a crime that lessen or mitigate it. In your case, you were reacting to your mother being bilked out of most her life’s savings by Susannah Williams and, you thought, the reverend. Extenuating circumstances don’t lessen the degree of the crime but are applicable in the sentencing phase.”
Emma felt the twinges of a headache start to appear in her temples, but she had to pay attention. She couldn’t face spending the rest of her life locked up; yet, she understood it was a distinct possibility. “You said the DA is open to a deal.”
Maya laid out the preliminary agreement. “Susannah Williams survived and is expected to make a full recovery from her injuries. Your charges have been lessened—instead of first-degree murder or attempted murder, it’s now second-degree attempted murder. This is where extenuating circumstances and a plea bargain come in. If you plead guilty to second-degree attempted murder, the DA is offering ten years in prison, max. Part of the deal is mandatory anger management therapy. Given that you also have no criminal history and were essentially sent over the brink by fraud, there is also the potential for early parole and time off for good behavior. Or you have the option of taking your chances with a jury and going to trial.”