Some Justice—Part One

Office of the Commonwealth’s Attorney

Friday, March 9, 2001

11:30 AM 

“Have a seat,” Mr. Dutton said.  “May I get you anything?” 

“No, sir—thank you, we’re fine.”  Amanda said.

“I take it you’re here about the summons.” Mr. Dutton walked over to his cabinet and withdrew a file folder. “Have you told your daughter about it yet?” 

“Not yet, no,” Lee said. “We’re going to tell her with her therapist present.” 

“Good idea,” Mr. Dutton sat down behind his desk facing them. “After reading the details of Jenna’s medical records I can’t say I blame you. I do need to speak with her at some point, however— the sooner the better.” 

“We understand,” Amanda said. 

“Your Agency has also been in touch with me and I’ve spoken to the judge,” Mr. Dutton said. “Due to the sensitive nature of your jobs, the courtroom will be closed to the general public and the press. Jenna knows nothing of what you actually do for a living?” 

“No—she thinks we make documentary films,” Lee said. “And right now it’s safer if she doesn’t know.” 

Mr. Dutton nodded. “Point taken—after what she’s been through, the last thing Jenna needs is any kind of major shock.  Have you thought about how she would testify?” 

“You were talking about excluding Gary Johnston from the courtroom during Jenna’s testimony,” Lee said.  “Is that still a viable option?”

“It’s possible,” Mr. Dutton hesitated. “But—there have been cases thrown out because the accused’s sixth amendment’s rights were violated—they didn’t have the chance to face their accuser.”

“Even if a minor was involved?”  Amanda asked. 

“Even then,” Mr. Dutton said.  “That’s why judges are reluctant to go that route. But believe me—I certainly understand why you wouldn’t want her to face Johnston in court.” 

“What about giving her testimony by CCTV?” Lee asked. “You spoke about that before.” 

“Yes, that’s an option,” Mr. Dutton said.  “It would be via two-way CCTV.  The court would be able to see and hear Jenna and she would be able to see and hear the courtroom but she wouldn’t have to be near him—that might help to lessen some of the trauma.”

Some of the trauma, Lee felt suddenly cold—not all—even with all the precautions—this would still leave its mark on her—Christ, how he hated this.

“She would still have to see him.” Lee thought of the hyperventilation attack Jenna had just from seeing Johnston’s picture on the news a while back. She’d improved quite a bit since then, but still—

“I understand your concern, Mr. Stetson. There’s nothing in the law that states she has to watch the screen.” Mr. Dutton said. “Both myself and the defense attorney will be in the room—”

“Wait a minute—the defense attorney?”  Lee’s voice rose. “Dennis ‘The Hammer’ Baylor?  The guy who’s been slandering her all over the media gets to be there in the same room? No way—I won’t have that creep within two feet of her.” 

“Lee—” Amanda said. 

“If you’ll let me finish,” Mr. Dutton said mildly. “Jenna also gets to have an advocate in the room with her, either a guardian ad-litem or a parent—and since neither of you are required to testify in the preliminary hearing one of you can be there. However—” he looked at Lee as he spoke. “Losing your temper won’t help the case—and it certainly won’t help Jenna.” 

“No—” Lee ran his hands back through his hair. “No, it won’t help, I know that—It’s just—I—”

“I know,” Mr. Dutton said. “I’m a father myself.”    

“And she actually needs to testify—you’re sure?”  Amanda said.

“It’s necessary, Mrs. Stetson—more than that, it’s crucial,” Mr. Dutton flipped through the folder as he spoke.  “At this point, we actually have a stronger case for the kidnapping and attempted murder than we do for Marcie’s murder.” 

“Why?”  Lee recalled Marcie’s autopsy report—the memory more detailed than he cared to admit. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious that he killed her.” 

“It’s obvious that she was killed,” Mr. Dutton said. “And the circumstantial evidence seems to bear it out—he had motive, means and opportunity. But Johnston was pretty thorough about removing any trace of physical evidence or identification—both from the body and from the crime scene—even the van she must have been transported in was clean—except for evidence of Jenna’s presence, of course.” 

Of course—the same van that Jenna had been kidnapped in—Lee thought about Jenna’s watch and belt—if they hadn’t caught Johnston in time what else would he have done to Jenna’s body after he killed her?   Bile rose in his throat. Amanda’s hand found his and gently squeezed, giving him some comfort.

“How about Suzanne Johnston?”  Amanda asked.  “She must have known something about what was going on.” 

“At this point we’re not sure what she knew,” Mr. Dutton said. “In her statement she claims that Gary told her that Marcie had run away—so when Jenna turned up she automatically assumed that Marcie had returned home.” 

“Is she going to testify?”  Lee asked.

“I’m really not sure, Mr. Stetson,”   Mr. Dutton said. “She’s refused to say anything about who shot her—and if she doesn’t wish to testify there isn’t much we can do about it.” 

“A wife can’t be compelled to testify against her husband.”  Amanda said.

Again Mr. Dutton nodded. “Exactly—which is why we really need Jenna’s testimony. So the sooner you can tell her, the better—there’s a lot of preparation to do. I’m going to have to ask you again if you’ll allow me to release Jenna’s records as state’s evidence—I realize there’s sensitive information there, but it would help our case tremendously.”

Lee hesitated.  He still didn’t like the idea of the defense looking at those—Gary seeing the  damage that he’d inflicted on Jenna—but if it helped to put the bastard away—he met Amanda’s eyes—knowing without words that his wife was thinking the same thing he was.

“We’ll do it,” he told Mr. Dutton.

SMK SMK SMK SMK

“I really hate to have to do this do her.” 

Amanda’s voice broke the silence as Lee pulled out of the parking lot.  He looked over at her briefly as he made a right turn onto North Courthouse Road. 

“Frankly, I’m not crazy about it either—but we don’t exactly have a choice in the matter.”  Lee said.  “She has a therapy session today—Pfaff will discuss it with her –I’ll be there—the sooner we do this the better.” 

“Lee, I realize that—it’s just—Jenna’s really starting to heal, you know? Now it feels like we’re going to be pulling the rug right out from under her.” 

Lee drew in a deep breath as they pulled up to the light at the intersection.  Traffic was heavy around this time of day—dark clouds hung low in the sky, promising rain later—maybe even a storm—it was funny how the weather seemed to match his mood.

“Amanda, I know what you’re saying,” he said finally. “But—maybe this will be a positive thing for her—it will put Gary in prison and hopefully out of Jenna’s life for good—it might even give her a sense of control over the situation.”

Putting Johnston away sounded good to Lee—more than that, he wanted the satisfaction of being there when the man was finally sentenced—of looking him right in the eye as he was led away in chains—it wouldn’t be enough—he thought—his fist clenched, thinking of all that Jenna had endured at that creep’s hands. It would never be enough—but at least it was something.  

“Do you think she’ll be able to handle this?” Amanda asked.

“Honestly—I’m not sure,” Lee said. “Jenna has made a lot of progress, though—and she deserves to know what’s coming up so she can prepare for it. I think we have to trust—at this point— and hope that we’ve made her strong enough.”  

“And she has all of us to support her,” Amanda said. “That’s something.”

“Yes, that is something,” Lee said. 

He just had to hope that it would be enough to get Jenna through. 

4:30 PM 

“Good afternoon, Jenna.”  Dr. Pfaff greeted her as she came into the office. “Take a seat. Would you like some ice cream?”

“No thanks,” Jenna said. “It’s kind of cold outside.”

She sat down in her usual seat, Dad took the seat beside her. He’d been quiet on the drive here, quieter than usual, Jenna thought. She couldn’t help feeling that something was wrong.

Maybe she was being paranoid though. Jenna looked over at her Dad—he wasn’t looking at her—he was looking straight ahead.

What could be wrong? Everything had been going so well lately—life seemed like it was finally getting back to normal. 

“Well personally, I enjoy ice cream all year-round,” Dr. Pfaff’s voice pulled Jenna from her worries. He knelt beside the fridge, pulling out an ice cream sandwich.  “How was the celebration dinner? Did you have a nice time?” 

“I had a great time—it was a lot of fun.”

“Very good.” Dr. Pfaff removed the paper from the sandwich, taking a bite. “And how was this week? Did everything go well?”

“Pretty well,” Jenna said. “I almost had a panicky moment in Gym class when the teacher stood over me but I managed to breathe and control it.”

“Well that’s good, Jenna—that’s very positive.” Dr. Pfaff sat in the chair across from them. For a moment he was silent, just looking at her.

“What’s wrong?” Jenna asked abruptly.

Dr. Pfaff blinked. “What makes you think that something’s wrong?” 

Jenna hesitated for a moment as she looked from Dad and then back to the doctor. “Maybe not wrong, exactly,” she said.  “But something’s going on. Dad’s really quiet—and you—I can just feel it.” 

Dad cleared his throat suddenly. “Nothing is wrong, munchkin—but we do have something that we need to talk to you about—it’s kind of important.”

“What?”  Jenna asked.

“You received a summons,” Dr. Pfaff said. “To testify in the preliminary hearing against Gary Johnston.” 

A summons. To testify—Jenna stared down at her hands in her lap—they were squeezed tightly together.  She drew in several deep breaths before trusting herself to speak. “So that means I have to do it?” 

“That’s what it means.” Dr. Pfaff told her.

“In a preliminary hearing—is that like a trial?”  Jenna asked.

Dr. Pfaff shook his head. “No, it’s basically just a small hearing, usually about an hour, to determine if there’s enough evidence to proceed to trial.”

“And they need me—to tell them what he—what Gary—did to me.”  Jenna swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump that seemed to have formed between throat and stomach.

“Yes,” Dr. Pfaff said. “You’re their main witness, Jenna—they need your testimony to proceed to trial.”  

‘I’m the main witness’—Jenna squeezed her hands together tighter. The thought of sitting in that huge room with Gary right there—his eyes staring at her—his hands—

Blood pounded in her ears—she had the sudden urge to run from the room, down the stairs, past Mrs. Marston and out the building—away from everything—

“Jenna, look at me,” Dad said. Jenna turned her head—his eyes stared intently into her own.  “What you tell the court could put Gary away for a very long time—somewhere where he couldn’t hurt you or anyone else ever again. Wouldn’t you like to do that?” 

“Yes.”  Jenna’s voice sounded very small to her own ears. “I just—would I need to be in the same room? I don’t know if I want to be that close—to him—I’m not sure I can be.” 

“The Commonwealth’s Attorney, Mr. Dutton, has requested a court order to let you testify by closed-circuit television.”  Dr. Pfaff told her. “It hasn’t been decided yet, but with the evidence I don’t think the judge will deny the request.”

“What does that mean—closed circuit TV?”  Jenna asked. 

“It means that you would be able to give your testimony, but you wouldn’t have to be in the same room.”  Dr. Pfaff said. “You’ll be talking to Mr. Dutton later—he can give you more details about how it works.” 

Jenna’s mind formed a vague mental picture of sitting in a room with a camera on her, talking about what Gary did—not as scary as being in the actual room, but still—her head began to ache—Jenna looked down at her wrist, watching as the skin throbbed with each heartbeat, faster than usual.

“Watch your breathing,” Dr. Pfaff’s voice seemed to come from a distance. “In and out, slowly.”   Jenna did as he told her—the pulse in her wrist slowed to the point where she couldn’t see it at all. 

She looked back up at Dr. Pfaff. “Would I be by myself?” 

“No,” Dad said. “Mr. Dutton would be there, and the defense attorney—and I would be in the room with you—you’re not going to have to do this alone, munchkin.” 

“When—when is it?”  Jenna asked.

“It’s April the sixth, ” Dr. Pfaff said. “That means you have lots of time to prepare—I really think you can do this—you’ve come a long way.” 

A long way—so why did it feel like it was square one all over again? Jenna reached up her hand, rubbing over the scar where the ache had erupted. A heavy feeling formed in the pit of her stomach—she swallowed, feeling kind of sick.

‘Things were finally feeling normal—why is this happening to me now?—this isn’t fair—it isn’t—’

“It doesn’t really matter what anybody thinks—I don’t have a choice—do I?”  Jenna spoke out loud without really meaning to.

“Well, no, you don’t have a choice—” Dr. Pfaff said. “But even so, there are things you can do to get ready—”

“No, not now— maybe later.” Jenna stood. “Right now, I just want to go home.”   

4247 Maplewood Dr 

5:00 PM

‘I’m being childish’

Jenna sat cross legged on her bed, her scarecrow doll on her lap, staring fixedly at the doll’s painted face.

The scene she’d made in Dr. Pfaff’s office had been childish.

Giving dad the silent treatment all the way home—running up here and slamming the door—all very childish. No one else needed to tell her what she already knew.  Tears stung Jenna’s eyes—angrily she reached up to brush them away.

She knew she was being childish and yet she couldn’t seem to stop. Jenna felt frozen, stuck—unable to move in any direction and not quite sure if she even wanted to.

It was funny—when she was younger she used to imagine that the doll knew all the answers—how to fix things—make everything better—but now she was older—she knew the truth.

The doll wasn’t going to fix anything—it was just a stupid stuffed doll with a stupid painted grin and it didn’t know anything—it couldn’t make anything better—even mom and dad couldn’t make things better—not this time.  Jenna threw the doll against the opposite wall—as hard as she could—there was a dull thud as it bounced off and landed face down on her Pocahontas rug—the rug—

Face down on the carpet—rough fibers rubbing into raw skin—biting her lip against the stinging pain—blood leaking, soaking the material—

Heart thudding, Jenna slid off her bed and knelt down on the rug beside the scarecrow doll. She picked it up, cradling the soft toy against her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m really sorry.”

There was a light tap on the door. 

“Jenna?” Mom’s voice. “I brought you a brownie and some milk—I really think we should talk.” 

“Okay—wait a sec.” Jenna called out.

Mom couldn’t see her—not like this—hastily she rose from the rug and put the doll back on her bed. 

“Come in.” 

The door opened. Mom entered, carrying a small saucer with a brownie and a glass of milk. 

“Thought you might be able to use this,” she handed Jenna the saucer and milk.

“Thanks.”  Jenna took both, trying to think of something else to say. “I –um—I really like brownies.” 

Possibly the lamest thing she’d ever said. Mom didn’t reply for a few moments, just looking at her.

“Let’s talk over here, okay?”  Taking Jenna’s arm, she steered her back over to her bed where they both sat down. 

“Sweetheart, I know that having to testify is frightening for you.”  Mom said

Jenna nodded. Putting the saucer on her lap she took the brownie, biting into it—it was still warm, the icing all gooey.  “It is—I really didn’t mean to act that way though—I was just acting like a big baby but I guess I’m just scared."  she finished off the brownie and took a swallow of milk. “I just think about seeing him in court, looking at his face—” a shiver ran through her body. “I guess I knew this was coming, someday—but –”

“But what?” 

“Things were just feeling sort of normal again, and now this—I don’t know. Maybe I’m kind of mad about it too. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what—for being angry?” 

Jenna nodded. 

“You have every right to feel angry, Jenna,” Mom told her. “Gary—he took you away from your family, he hurt you—frightened you—even tried to kill you. Anger is normal—it’s nothing to feel sorry for.” 

“How about you—are you angry at him too?” 

“Yes,” Mom said. “I’m angry at what he put you through—the way he hurt you—the way he’s still hurting you—I love you—and I don’t ever like to see someone I love in pain.”

“I love you too, mom—I just wish—” Jenna drew in a deep breath. “I wish he’d just go away, you know? That I could just forget about him and everything would be over—but I can’t.”

“Jenna—”

“I mean, why can’t he just plead guilty? He knows what he did to me. I read about courts in my social studies book, mom—if he just said he was guilty, I wouldn’t have to testify.”  

“Sweetheart, I don’t know the answer to that—I don’t.”  Mom said. “What I do know is that if you tell the court the truth about what he did, they’ll put him away for a very long time.”

“But what about what Gary says—or his lawyer? I don’t know what he’s been saying on TV but I know that he’s been saying stuff—I hear other kids talk—they might believe him instead.” Jenna’s hand started to shake—she put the glass of milk on her bedside table so it wouldn’t spill.

“They’re going to need evidence for what they say in court—and they don’t have it. We have evidence.”

“But I’m not sure I can do it—even if I testify on a television.” 

“Well I am sure.”  Mom took Jenna’s hands.  “You’re a very strong girl—look at all that you’ve been through already—and you haven’t given up yet. I know that you can do this.”

The same thing Dr. Pfaff had said—that everyone had been saying—that she was strong—Dad had said that she wasn’t going to let Gary beat her—Jenna saw her face in her mirror—she really wanted to be that girl—the strong girl—but still—she looked back over at Mom.

“If I testify on television he’ll be able to see me?” 

Mom nodded. 

“Will I have to see him?”  .

“There will be a screen in your room so you can see the court—but you don’t have to look at the screen if you don’t want to.”

A screen, Jenna thought. Better than in person, but still—“And I won’t—I won’t be alone with strangers?” 

Mom squeezed her hands. “You won’t ever be alone—I promise. Either your dad or I will be there at all times.” 

“Okay—well what about outside the courtroom? What then?” 

“I don’t know the exact arrangements, but no one is going to let him get anywhere near you—we’ll make sure of it.” 

“And I’m going to meet Mr. Dutton? The Commonwealth’s Attorney?”

“Yes, you’ll be able to meet him—to ask him all the questions you want—we’ll even be able to take you into a courtroom, let you see where you’ll be testifying—all of that. We’ll do everything we can to make sure you’re ready. All right?”

‘I can do this,’ Jenna thought. The girl in the mirror had a resolute expression on her face—even though she still felt shaky and jello-y inside.  ‘I can prepare for this—get Gary out of my life once and for all.’

“All right,” she said.

Mom pulled her into a hug. “I’m very proud of you, sweetheart,” she said. “Let’s go downstairs, okay? I’m going to make you your favorite dinner tonight.” 

“Tacos?”  Jenna asked.

“Of course—and we’ll even have sherbet for dessert.” 

 TBC