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Cassie Nichols wants a baby. Badly.
She’s certain a baby will anchor the crumbling relationship with her husband, Jake, who she suspects is having an affair.
But after a miscarriage and continued trouble getting pregnant leads the couple down the frustrating and expensive road of in vitro fertilization, Cassie finds herself running out of time.
Pumped on hormones, fueled by anxiety, and believing it is the only way to save her marriage, she does the unthinkable to ensure a viable pregnancy.
Now, the happy family she envisioned remains out of reach and is instead wrought with lies, deception, and murder.
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Seitenzahl: 351
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
now
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
before
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
now
Chapter Twenty-Seven
About The Author
Book Club Questions
MISCONCEPTION
Denise Forsythe
Latchkey Publishing
Copyright © 2024 Denise Johnson (deniseforsythe.com)
All rights reservedThe characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.ISBN-13: 979-8-9917965-0-7Cover design by: RockingBookCovers.comPrinted in the United States of America
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
now
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
before
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
now
Chapter Twenty-Seven
About The Author
Book Club Questions
now
Chapter One
It had been years since Cassie had been to the gun range. She and her sister were kids at the time. Though he didn’t have any sons, it didn’t stop their father from ensuring his daughters tried every hobby he enjoyed.
Now, here she was seven months pregnant shooting a gun that had been tossed aside in a struggle between two men. One - her husband. The other - her coworker.
The moment she’d unlocked the door and caught sight of the two, her world had seemingly crashed in around her. Cassie had worked so hard to keep the two apart. Confused and scared, she worked to decipher what had brought them together.
She had no idea how long the two had struggled before she arrived home. The home they so happily moved into nearly a year ago. The house she and her husband were going to raise a family in. And what a find it was. They heard of it through the grapevine. Their realtor was friends with the homeowner’s neighbor. That’s how they got in to see the whisper listing.
A one-story, mid-century modern. It had been lovingly restored to its original splendor when the prior homeowner located the original architect to add more rooms. Decorating it had been so much fun, hunting for furniture and decor at secondhand stores to match the era in which it was built.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Cassie hadn’t expected to be thrust back so violently when she pulled the trigger. The acrid scent of burnt metal hung in the air. The appointment with Dr. Paulson hadn’t gone well. Jake told her he would be there, but never showed up. Cassie sat in the room alone, waiting for the doctor who had checked on her a second time. She stalled and told him Jake would be there. He was running late, she said, as she watched the steady rain pelt the window. Another dismal autumn day. She sighed while flattening the creases of the cotton maternity skirt she wore with her palms. "He’ll be here,” Cassie repeated to herself, as if somehow, she’d will Jake to show up. A gentle knock on the door caught her attention.
“Cassie, I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to get started soon.” The doctor said in a hushed tone. “Do you want to try calling him?”
Cassie held back tears and nodded; her hands grasped the cell phone that sat beside her.
“Okay,” he smiled. “I’ll be right back.”
Once the door shut, Cassie glanced at her cell phone. She hoped there would be a text from him. There was none, so she called her husband, as the doctor suggested. When there was no answer, all she could do was leave a message on his voicemail.
The visit with Dr. Paulson was a standard checkup. It was the first since the secret procedure with Dr. Kerry.
Now, she suspected Jake had found out what she had known for some time. Did he plan it? Not being there. She couldn’t be sure. Though, in the midst of their struggle, Cassie couldn’t figure out how he managed to get her former coworker to show up at their house.
She felt a burning sensation within her blouse and fished inside the front of it. A hot bullet casing had flung back and burned her skin. Her hand trembled as she tossed it aside. Cassie crept closer to the body that lay still on the floor of the foyer, as blood pooled alongside it. Waiting for any sign of life, she gently caressed her extruding belly, trying to calm the nausea triggered by the burning, metallic odor of gun powder.
Ben stood beside the green chenille davenport, his hands in the air, no doubt in fear she might kill him too. He spoke, but the gunshots clouded her hearing. It was as if she were in a tunnel. Though her arms ached, Cassie returned both hands to the gun and pointed it at him. Oh, how she wanted him dead.
The line between right and wrong had blurred a long time ago for Cassie.
◆◆◆
Cassie’s mind raced. How had Jake found out?Could Ben have told him? A faint sound of sirens yanked Cassie’s consciousness back to the present. Her perception of time was off. Moments of nothing interrupted by a flurry of activity surrounded her. As if she were in a slow-motion silent movie with blank scenes interspersed.
There was the moment she was handcuffed, while a police officer tried to communicate what was happening. Her attention though was on the body that lay lifeless on the floor of her living room and the ambulance personnel that attended to it.
Even her vision seemed to be affected. Despite the colorful décor of the home, only two stood out. The deep red of the blood pooled around her dead husband and the green couch. Why was that? she wondered.
Cassie considered speaking, then thought better of it. Things worked out better when she had a plan. After all, it was the gun Jill had loaned her that Ben and Jake were fighting over when she arrived home.
She began her breathing exercises. These were not the ones taught during Lamaze class. Rather, she had learned Box breathing from her therapist, as a way to relieve stress and anxiety.
Inhale, one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four. Exhale, one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four.
Inhale, one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four. Exhale, one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four.
The change in Cassie’s breathing was audible enough that it threw the police officer and ambulance personnel into action. Her handcuffs were quickly removed, and she was placed on a waiting stretcher, intended for the victim she shot. Cassie realized they thought she had gone into labor. She remained quiet as they rushed her to a waiting ambulance outside.
Despite the chaos, it was not lost upon her that the situation she now found herself in might be a good thing. Heading to the hospital versus jail would provide Cassie with ample time to think, without too many initial questions about what transpired in the moments leading up to the shots fired.
While she lay on the uncomfortable gurney during the ride, Cassie decided she should cry. A female paramedic attempted to console her as the bumpy ride jolted her body.
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you to the hospital in time.”
“What do you think happened back there?” The male paramedic asked his coworker.
Their words sounded so far away. Cassie opened and closed her jaw a few times in an attempt to pop her ears.
The female paramedic placed a hand on her shoulder. “Probably some sort of domestic violence situation. An ex pissed off that she moved on.”
Cassie moaned. She needed as much time as possible to consider her options.
◆◆◆
It was maddening, not being able to hear. From the point of the gunfire through the first twenty-four hours of her hospital stay, Cassie could hear very little. Through enunciation and explanations provided on the hospital’s tablet, a nurse finally explained Cassie had likely sustained shooter’s ear. A condition that was sometimes temporary and sometimes permanent; it could result from an acute instance of gunfire or from prolonged exposure. To Cassie’s dismay, it was too early to know if the damage to her hearing would be permanent.
At first, both ears felt clogged, kind of like being on a plane after it had climbed to a considerable altitude in a short period of time. But, in this case, no amount of yawning helped Cassie's hearing return.
Then, a little more than a day after the shooting, Cassie began to regain hearing in her left ear. When she questioned why only one had improved, the nurse explained that it was typical. Since Cassie was left-handed and held the gun with her left hand. Her arm and shoulder, having been raised, helped absorb the energy of the shot. Her right ear suffered greater damage as a result.
Frustrated at the idea she may never regain full hearing again; Cassie turned her attention to more important matters. The extended stay in the hospital provided the time she needed after the traumatic altercation to think, and more importantly, to plan.
She hadn’t been prepared that night. Not for what she had learned about her husband. And not for the ramifications of her actions. It all happened so quickly once she opened the front door. Cassie hadn’t had time to process it all.
In between visitors, friends gracious enough to check in on her in the aftermath, she came up with what she thought was a reasonable explanation of what happened.
“How are you holding up?” Jill, a ride or die friend she made when she moved to Gingko Heights, asked during a visit.
The barren concrete ledge outside her window was a stark contrast to the get-well floral bouquets commingled with cards and more flowers that soaked up the sun inside.
“I’m not sure. I’m glad this one is okay.” She patted her belly.
Jill nodded. “Have you heard from Jake’s family?”
Cassie shook her head. “No. I guess they are waiting to see what the police report says.” She wondered, too. Would they believe she killed her husband in self-defense?
“They don’t believe you?”
“I don’t know. Jake’s mother had such a big influence on them when she was alive. Estelle didn’t really like me, so…” Cassie’s sentence trailed off as she considered whether any of her in-laws would believe her version of the events surrounding Jake’s unexpected death. Perhaps her sister-in-law, Alex, would. To say she needed them to be on her side was an understatement.
“Will you be able to stay in the house?” Jill asked, her realtor mindset at the forefront.
Cassie couldn’t really blame her. It was the best house on the block. “I think so. We have the inheritance from his mother’s death.” Her mind immediately recalled the mortgage bill that was due in a few days. It also dawned on her that at some point she would have to stop saying ‘we’.
Jill’s cell phone chimed. “I have to go. I have to show a house this afternoon and the owners have two dogs. I need to straighten up before the potential buyers see it,” she paused to adjust the knit throw she had placed on Cassie’s lap. “I’ll try to stop by later, before visiting hours are over.”
“Thanks,” Cassie said. “You are an amazing friend.”
“Text if you want me to pick up anything,” she said right before the door closed.
She was appreciative of her friend’s offer, but what Cassie really longed for was a walk outside. Cooped up in the hospital for two days without any fresh air had led to a serious bout of cabin fever.
Later that day, a nurse let it slip that she might be released within the next twenty-four hours. She hoped so. There was so much to do before the baby was born.
◆◆◆
A light knock on the door roused Cassie from a nap. It took a moment to recognize her surroundings. Much of her sleep had been disrupted, with nurses in and out of the room throughout the night to check her and the baby’s vitals. She instinctively patted her abdomen and noticed her feet were swollen. Too many hours in a hospital bed, without activity, meant she was retaining water.
“Cassie, it’s Alex.”
With her back turned away from the door, Cassie figured Alex couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not. She held her breath. There was no use putting it off any longer. It was time. She hadn’t spoken to anyone on Jake’s side of the family since before the incident happened. Cassie raised the bed to a seated position, using the remote anchored to a Velcro strip next to her pillow.
“Hi,” Jake’s only sister broke out in sobs.
The sight of her sister-in-law’s forlorn face was too much, even for Cassie. She had to look away.
As she cleared her throat, Alex composed herself. “We were surprised we didn’t hear the news from you directly.”
“News?” Cassie couldn’t help but wonder if her sister-in-law was truly that dense. Did she really expect Cassie to call everyone in the family and provide an update?
“I mean, you know, to let us know what happened,” Alex added.
“I don’t even know what happened. I’m still processing it all,” Cassie paused. “What I can remember.”
Alex’s mouth gaped. “You don’t remember?”
“Not all of it. No. It happened so fast,” Cassie blurted. “I came home to Jake and Ben arguing, wrestling on the ground. I remember bits and pieces of the ambulance ride here.” She caught her breath. “They are monitoring me, making sure I don’t get upset so as not to harm the baby.” Cassie glanced down at her stomach.
“Cassie, what were you doing with a gun?”
“I had it for protection. Jill gave it to me. Jake knew about it.” Cassie couldn’t recall if she told him about the gun. She thought she had.
“Protection from what?” Alex asked.
“He didn’t tell you?” Cassie asked, though she knew Jake wasn’t one to share.
Alex walked over to the window and shook her head.
“A man I worked with. He…” she paused. “He forced himself on me.”
Cassie noticed her sister-in-law’s expression had gone from stoic to sympathetic.
“I had no idea. So, he was there? At your house to attack you?” she asked, clearly attempting to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
“I guess. I don’t really know.” That wasn’t true at all. She knew.
“But they said…the police said you shot Jake.”
Cassie corrected her. “When I realized what was happening, I tried to intervene. I stupidly got in the middle of them and realized they were struggling to get hold of a gun. I somehow got hold of it and aimed at my coworker. They were on the ground, and it looked like Ben had the upper hand.”
“So, it was a mistake?” Her voice trembled.
This was it. The moment of reckoning.
“What was a mistake?” Cassie asked, careful to exude just the right amount of surprise.
Her sister-in-law’s eyes widened. “I, um, didn’t anyone tell you?” Alex picked up one of the get-well cards and placed it back down.
“Tell me what?” Again, Cassie carefully controlled her expression.
“That…Jake, he’s dead,” the words stumbled out of Alex’s mouth and into the stillness of the room.
Cassie said nothing, though tears streamed down her face. “No!” she wailed. “That can’t be. I shot at Ben. Ben!” She couldn’t help but think she should win a fucking Oscar for this performance.
Alex rushed to her bedside, sat down, and cradled Cassie in her arms. “You must be devastated.”
In the several minutes they stayed like that, Cassie let the tears stream down her face. After all, they weren’t fake. Not all of them. She couldn’t help but wonder where the rest of Jake’s family was.
Had Alex been sent to check on her because of how close they had been before Jake’s death? Maybe to evaluate her side of things? Though thankful for the compassion Alex displayed, Cassie had to remain on guard. It wasn’t lost on her that his family could blame her for what happened to him.
Only a month before, Jake had received a sizable inheritance after their mother’s death. That money would now be earmarked to pay for a criminal attorney. And not just any criminal attorney, Cassie planned to get the best her mother-in-law’s money could buy. Estelle would help her after all, even if it was in death.
Chapter Two
And that’s where Cassie got it wrong. In the days after Jake’s death, it seemed like a slam dunk. So she relaxed. Let her guard down. The rest of his family came by to visit. Though his brothers resisted at first, eventually they came around and together they worked to plan Jake’s funeral.
Cassie wanted all of it - the service, the burial and the wake - done in one day. But Jake’s family wanted the funeral to be spread out over a weekend.
“It’s too much,” she said. “I don’t want to risk the baby’s health.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “You can sit throughout the entire thing.”
Alex came to her defense. “Why spread it out? Especially for everyone coming in from out of town.”
It was plain as day; she’d won her sister-in-law over.
Paul considered his sister’s point and conceded. “Fine. We can do it all in one day. I just want to honor him appropriately. He was a great brother,” he added.
That was a first. Especially since Jake’s siblings had grown standoffish toward him recently.
Cassie nodded. “And husband.” Though beginning to tire of praising Jake the martyr, she knew she had to keep up pretenses.
After all, she was all but certain he’d been having an affair.
Alex sat on the edge of the hospital bed. “Have they told you when you’ll be discharged?”
“Tomorrow, I think.” Ecstatic at the thought of being discharged, Cassie was also nervous. She had been made aware that police wanted to question her about the details of the evening of Jake’s death.
Paul shut the folio that contained plans for the funeral. “Alright, I guess I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Okay.” Cassie knew not to press him. “Thanks for helping with this,” she added before he hastily exited the room.
It was also clear; she had not won her brother-in-law over.
Alex grabbed her jacket. “Don’t worry about Paul,” she pointed towards the door. “I have your back.”
Cassie met Alex’s gaze. “Thanks. You’ve been a lifesaver.”
She stopped at the door. “Do you need a ride? Tomorrow, I mean.”
“No. My friend Jill already offered. Thanks anyway,” said Cassie.
Alex nodded and walked out of the room.
Relieved they had completed the details of Jake’s funeral, Cassie sighed. She was sick of talking about Jake, pretending he was an upstanding guy, when in reality he was just as bad as Ben.
Now, there was time to rehearse her story before she met with the police. If she was able to fool Jake’s family, Cassie figured she could do the same with the police.
◆◆◆
Amid a pile of soggy mail that lay on the doormat of her home, Cassie couldn’t help but notice a large 8 by 11 inch mustard yellow envelope.
An awkward squat later, she had gathered the pile with one hand and unlocked the door with the other.
With a butter knife, she yanked through the sealed edge of the large envelope. She expected paperwork of some kind. Cassie pulled a mass of papers out and noticed several pages containing photos.
She let out a gasp. They were of Jake. And of another man. Together. In indescribable ways. Though she couldn’t see the other man’s face in the pictures, she could tell by the build and hair that it was Ben.
Jake. Gay? No. That couldn’t be. Could it?Where did this happen? When did it happen?
Disgusted, Cassie shoved the contents back inside the envelope. Rage filled every vein in her body. How could he?
A slew of memories came flooding back to her. Emily’s odd response when Cassie told her they were planning to start a family. Ben’s somewhat inappropriate remarks about Jake.
An unsettling thought crossed Cassie’s mind. Was the fight the night Jake died even about her? Or was it a disagreement between two lovers? She shuddered. The very thought made her want to vomit.
She wondered if Ben’s personal comments about Jake were to get back at her for keeping the news of the baby from him. It seemed implausible. Her husband knowingly engaged in a relationship with someone she’d been intimate with, too.
There were so many questions. Somehow, she knew she would never get answers to most of them now that Jake was dead.
Cassie repeatedly balled her fists. Oh, how she wanted to make Ben pay for the torment he caused. Even if she did make him pay. How could she? What was there left to do? She should have shot him, too, when she had the chance. It was a hard pill to swallow. Jake’s affair with Ben. How could she have known her husband would ever be with a man? In retrospect, she didn’t think he had ever been with one before. Then again, there was that odd conversation with Emily. The one where Emily had given Cassie the most puzzling look. It seemed that she knew a different Jake.
But Ben’s personality was seductive. This was something she found out firsthand. Still, the fact that Jake could be played by someone like Ben was also difficult to comprehend.
The telling comments Ben made about Jake in passing came back to her. After a midday meeting in the conference room, he complemented Jake’s physical appearance.
“Your husband always looks so put together,” he said, weeks after the incident in the hotel room. “It’s probably the broad shoulders that help.” He grinned widely.
Another time, Ben had commented under his breath that Jake was his type. Cassie hadn’t taken the comment seriously. Now, she realized she should have.
◆◆◆
After dodging the investigating officer’s call for a few days, Cassie finally agreed to meet and provide her account of what transpired the night of Jake’s death.
The day she met with the officer, there was not a cloud in the sky. To anyone else, it was what one would consider a perfect, crisp autumn day.
So, when she finished providing the details of what happened on the day he died, skipping over the backstory with Ben and the procedure she had, Cassie thought it was her best performance yet. That is, until the officer asked her to answer a question she hadn’t been prepared for.
“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about what happened that night?” he asked with an icy cold stare. The open-ended question hung in the air like heavy fog after a steady spring downpour.
“No,” she said a little too quickly.
“Anything you might have omitted?” he questioned further.
Was this a trick question? Did he know something he hadn’t led on to?
“Omitted,” she repeated the word. Cassie couldn’t recall where she learned that if one wanted to slow down a conversation or an interview, the best way to do so was to repeat whatever was said or asked.
“Yes. During our investigation, we learned that you were involved in an extramarital affair.”
Extramarital affair. Damn Ben. He must have told the investigator that. It didn’t take long for Cassie to figure out there was another witness account that veered wildly from her own. This is where things got messy.
“Cassie Nichols, I am placing you under arrest.”
Instead of carefully planning her next moves like a champion chess player, Cassie found herself one step behind - reacting to the events around her.
“For what?” she stuttered.
“Charges against you will be announced at the time of arraignment.”
The officer then began reading Cassie her Miranda rights. “You have the right to remain silent and to refuse to answer questions,” he began.
Cassie immediately thought of all the television shows and movies where she had heard those very words. They were make believe, and this moment felt oddly similar. In less than a minute and a half, she was handcuffed and escorted to a squad car.
“Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law.”
Translation: shut up, she thought to herself.
“You have the right to an attorney…”
Instead of a snarky comeback, Cassie was speechless. Heat enveloped her. It was then she realized she had lost track of time. She hadn’t noticed when the officer finished reading her rights to her.
“Can you roll down the window?” she asked. It crossed her mind that she may never feel fresh air against her skin again.
The police officer’s skeptical glance could be seen via the rearview mirror. “Sorry, can’t do that. It’s against protocol.”
“I think I’m going to faint,” she added. Clammy and woozy were the first words that came to mind to describe her condition at that exact moment.
As if he read her thoughts, she saw a flash of concern cross the officer’s face through the rearview mirror. “I’ll turn on the air conditioning,” he said, despite the cool autumn weather.
The burst of cool air helped immediately. The officer’s voice seemed far off as he explained the next steps in her arrest. Once she arrived at the police station, she would be fingerprinted, photographed and frisked (her word, not his) in case she had any weapons on her.
Naked trees flitted by; their once colorful leaves lay dead in a heap. Seated in the squad car everything seemed to be going in slow motion. A rush of anxiety swept over her. The officer parked and then assisted her while she slowly slid out of the back seat of the vehicle.
There are situations you just don’t comprehend until you experience them. Like how difficult it is to get in and out of a car while pregnant and in handcuffs.
Inside the police station, Cassie was immediately processed through the booking department. Though the officer hadn’t included the step in his description of the arrest process, she was first taken aside for a gunshot residue test.
“It’s unlikely anything will be found, since you’ve been in the hospital for a while,” he explained. “Are you left or right-handed?”
“Left.”
He reached for Cassie’s left hand, then pressed it, top and bottom, with a metal object designed to pick up metal fragments from guns that had been fired.
When he was done, he returned the metal object to a small cylindrical container and snapped the cap in place. The container was placed into a small envelope with the word EVIDENCE stamped on it.
He completed the information section, then placed red tape that also had the word EVIDENCE on it across the envelope. Now sealed, he initialed and dated an area by the tape.
Whisked off to the central booking area to wait, she tried to remain stoic when asked to remove her belongings. Cassie’s wedding band stuck to her swollen ring finger.
The female officer behind the counter tasked with recording and bagging her personal effects, tried to help her.
“We may need some soap,” she said to a fellow officer.
He immediately returned with a bottle of hand soap.
After a few squirts of the strong-scented liquid soap and a brief massage, the officer was able to slide the antique diamond ring off.
As the ring slid against her finger Cassie was reminded of when Jake proposed. Out for a nice dinner after a modern ballet performance at a local theater, the revolving restaurant that sat atop a downtown hotel offered a bird’s-eye view of Milwaukee. Momentarily mesmerized by the twinkling lights of the city, she didn’t notice when Jake slipped a dark blue velvet box across the table.
She turned back just as he bent down on one knee. Even though the moment could be considered a universal sign that a proposal was imminent, it hadn’t registered for Cassie. But as he spoke, she put two and two together. Not hearing anything, really, until he asked, “will you marry me?”
“Yes. Yes!” She responded gleefully, almost knocking him over when she went in for a hug while he attempted to stand.
The memory dissipated when the arresting officer returned to accompany her to fingerprinting. The tiny, worn-out room added to the out-of-body experience, as each of her fingers rolled across the black ink. The officer pressed down on each digit to ensure a good print.
The officer tasked with taking her booking photo was a brusk older man.
“Now, turn to your right,” he directed. “And remember, no smiling.”
It wasn’t too unlike the photos taken by the nurse at her esthetician’s office before they were about to fill her forehead full of Botox.
Cassie’s stomach churned when she was handed the jail uniform.
“You look like a medium,” the woman said without emotion, and handed her a pile of faded blue clothing.
Unsure where she was supposed to undress, Cassie scanned the room in search of a changing area.
“You change right here, in front of us,” the officer said, her voice flat.
Near tears, Cassie sucked up the humiliation while she handed her clothes to the officer. She wondered if she’d ever wear them again.
Next, she followed blindly as an officer led her to a holding area. Because it was meant to be temporary, it housed both men and women awaiting the next steps in their jailhouse journey.
With her gaze purposely cast down and her heart thundering beneath her chest, she walked past several cells before the officer unlocked one.
“In here,” she directed.
The entire cell measured, by her estimation, eight feet by six feet.
Since it was late in the afternoon, an arraignment wouldn’t happen until the next day at the earliest, the officer who accompanied her to her cell explained. “You’ll be in custody until then,” she added. “Get some rest.”
Cassie took in the sickening grayish, green-walled cell, without having to move her head or her gaze for that matter. A small bed with a thin mattress stuck out from the wall and a metal toilet with no lid was all the room contained.
As the officer locked the cell door, Cassie considered requesting the phone call she believed she was entitled to, but without her cell phone she had no phone numbers memorized.
When she later inquired about the duration of her detention, an officer informed her that it could range from one to ninety days. It depended on a lot of factors, he added.
Anything over two weeks, and she might have the baby while incarcerated. Cassie couldn’t…she corrected herself…wouldn’t let that happen. And, anyway, she didn’t think she would last that long in jail. Cassie already felt suffocated, and it hadn’t even been two hours.
◆◆◆
Later that morning, Cassie received a message that a public defender was on his way to meet with her. Apparently, Jill had tried using Cassie’s debit card to withdraw money from the joint bank account she shared with Jake to hire a criminal attorney, only to discover the account had been locked. Cassie knew Jake’s siblings had to be involved in locking down their deceased brother’s finances so quickly.
She kicked herself for not having hired a criminal defense attorney when she had the chance. The money Jake inherited from Estelle was now out of reach. These were the thoughts that ran through her mind as the public defender assigned to Cassie’s case wiped several beads of sweat from his forehead. She eyed his five o’clock shadow. It looked to be more than that upon second glance. Since it was cool out, she surmised the extra weight around Mr. Hader’s middle was the reason for his overheating.
He’d been peppering her with questions since he arrived. Even though they were repetitive and annoying, she was glad to be out of the holding cell. A stale scent of body odor crept up anytime she shifted in her chair. It was the smell of fear. She exuded the same scent the night of Jake’s death.
“Have you ever been charged or convicted of a crime before?”
“No.”
“Okay, now that we have that out of the way, we can talk about the evidence the prosecuting attorney says they have on you.”
Cassie sat at the end of the uncomfortable metal chair; the edge of the table jutted into her stomach slightly.
“I read your statement to the police about the night of the incident. The night your husband died. I understand you are implicating Ben Shaw as the aggressor that evening.”
Cassie nodded while she attempted to read the police report, which was positioned upside down to her.
“The witness statement they have indicates you lured Mr. Shaw to your home under false pretenses. That you and he had an affair but that he ended it, and you were harassing him and making false accusations.”
Cassie’s throat constricted. “What? That’s not true.”
“Did you have an extramarital affair with Ben Shaw?” The question lingered as a gust of wind whipped against the exterior metal window grates outside.
“No. I did not,” she stated emphatically. She hadn’t lied. An affair, as far as Cassie was concerned, involved multiple trysts. “He assaulted me while we were on a work trip,” she added.
Hader scanned the multi-page police report. “He corroborates a work trip, but says that the sexual activity that took place between you two was consensual.”
Despite everything that had happened between the two, this was still unexpected. Ben's accusation. He’d turned the tables on her.
“Why would I lure him to my house?”
Hader ignored the question. “The witness indicates you wanted to kill your husband in order to access an inheritance he received recently. Said you talked about it on multiple occasions, even going so far as to try and get him involved in the plot.”
Heat enveloped Cassie. It was as if her entire body was on fire. How did Ben know about the inheritance and the life insurance policy, for that matter? Cassie racked her brain, trying to figure out if she had provided details about her mother-in-law’s death or the policy to anyone at work. She was sure she had not.
“That’s not true. I came home that evening to find the two, Ben and Jake, fighting over a gun. I didn’t have time to think. I rushed over to help Jake. They were still fighting with me in the middle. I realized I needed to protect the baby, so I tore myself away and got a hold of the gun and pulled the trigger.”
Hader stared at her. His gaze eventually fell to her baby-filled belly.
“It’s going to be a he said/she said case. We’ll do our best to present a case of self-defense, but you should consider any plea offers seriously. The life insurance policy on Jake was worth two million dollars.”
Cassie had known about the life insurance policy. Jake upped the payout from one to two million dollars during the pregnancy. It made sense at the time. Now, it made her look guilty.
She had underestimated Ben. He was going to make her pay. What did he want? Her? The money? She needed to find out. Quickly.
Chapter Three
A few days later, an officer came by her cell at an unusual time. “You have a visitor.”
Cassie hoped it was her sister. She gave Jill her contact info and even though they hadn’t communicated much in several years, she hoped to hear from her. “Who is it?”
“Jeffrey Simon.”
Cassie sighed. She didn’t recognize the name. Figuring it was someone from the public defender’s office, she agreed to meet with him.
When she got to the room, a man who appeared to be in his 20s immediately shoved an envelope toward her.
“Cassie Nichols?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been served,” the man uttered while he signaled the officer to be let out of the room.
Cassie quickly tore the 8 x 11-inch envelope open and pulled out its contents.
Jake’s will was being contested by the Nichols family. Cassie read through the legal document again. Because she was viewed as a suspect in Jake’s death, the family alleged she should not be eligible to inherit any money as a result of his death. The document cited the Slayer’s Act, which prohibits anyone suspected of murder from benefiting or inheriting anything from the will or estate of a victim of murder.
She had counted on that money to go toward defending her case.
“I need to call my public defender now,” she said, her attention directed toward the officer that accompanied her out of the room.
He nodded as they turned down the hallway where the phones inmates used to call out were located.
Cassie dialed the cell number to the public defender assigned to her case.
“Hello?” Hader answered on the fourth ring.
While she wasn’t thrilled with having a public defender as her defense counsel in a murder case, Cassie knew it was early in the criminal proceedings. “Jacob, it’s Cassie Nichols.”
“Hi Cassie. There’s nothing new to report.”
“I received paperwork contesting the will.”
“Well, that’s a private matter that I cannot assist you with.”
She hated his whiney voice. “Yes, I know.” Cassie knew she sounded like Estelle at this moment. “I just need to know more about the Slayer’s Act. Since you’re a legal expert, I thought I could ask you.” The last part was questionable, but she figured a little flattery couldn’t hurt.
“Ah. Well. What I know about it is very simple, really. If someone is convicted of a murder and was a beneficiary on the murder victim’s will, then he or she would not be able to benefit from an inheritance.”
“So, there must be a conviction?”
“I think so,” his response wasn’t convincing.
“Okay, thanks for your help.”
“No problem. I’ll see you Tuesday for your arraignment.”
She sighed and ended the call. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked the officer beside her.
He nodded.
“I just need a quick internet search on a topic related to my case.”
“I can’t let you use my phone.”
“No. I understand. Could you look up the Slayer’s Act?”
The officer hesitated and then pulled out his phone. Cassie eyed its superhero case. Within a few seconds, he began reading from a website. What he said didn’t do anything to put her at ease.
A person didn’t have to be convicted for the Act to apply. Essentially, there only needed to be an inference that it was more likely than not that the murder was committed by the person suspected of doing so.
As he read the description of the Act, Cassie noticed something. If the murder was justified or accidental, then the Act wouldn’t apply since the murder had to be intentional. This was it. Her out. She didn’t have anything to worry about. Well, other than finding an attorney to help her out of this thorny mess. But it was doable, and that was what mattered.
◆◆◆
By the time of her arraignment on Tuesday, Cassie’s mood was sour. The hard jail cot had left her with a series of knots in the muscles of her back and one of the other females housed there had some sort of stomach issue that had left it smelling like an outhouse. Relieved to get out of the place for even an hour, she smiled when she saw Jacob.
“For goodness’ sake, take that smile off your face. This is a somber moment. Remember? We’re here because you face charges in your husband’s death,” Hader whispered.
The sides of Cassie’s mouth quickly dropped. “Sorry. It’s just been hell in there. It’s so uncomfortable, especially when you’re pregnant.”
She noticed sweat had begun to bead on his forehead again. Her gaze fell to the defense lawyer’s five o’clock shadow. Had he been on a bender over the weekend? It certainly looked that way. Her concern grew as his knee bobbed up and down.
“Have you thought about what we discussed? Do you want to go through with a trial? Or do you want to take a plea and shorten your sentence?”
“Plea?”
Hader shuffled through some court papers in his briefcase. “Yes. The prosecutor on the case offered a plea deal yesterday. Plead guilty to second-degree intentional homicide with a sentence of thirty-five years in prison and ten years’ probation.” Hader paused as he scanned the document. “That’s a decent deal. The maximum sentence for second degree intentional homicide is sixty years.”
Cassie swallowed hard at the thought of prison time. “But it was self-defense.” It wasn’t such a long shot. It was true. It had been self-defense, until it wasn’t.
“So, you want to plead not guilty?” he asked, frustrated.
Cassie nodded.
Upon entering the courtroom, Cassie gasped. She followed the officer to the seat next to her assigned attorney. Though he had taken the time to describe the proceedings, Hader hadn’t said there would be so many people present. Her hair was matted and unwashed, and she still wore the jail garb given to her the day of the arrest. Cassie scanned the courtroom to see if anyone had come on her behalf. To her relief, she recognized no one.