After lunch break, the defense took control of the courtroom and I was surprised to find that even I, a fashionista with no background in law and criminal investigations, found their argument to be lacking. Jason Ramie’s lawyers focused on the reliability of the testimony of the man who had exchanged information to lessen his own sentence. They tried to make it seem like the man who gave up Jason Ramie’s name to begin with was unreliable and couldn’t be trusted. This argument, to me at least, paled in comparison with the ballistics evidence presented by Detective Dillard.
The defense called me up to testify again and even though I was nervous to take the stand, my nerves quickly faded when I realized the defense was grasping at straws. His lawyer tried baiting me into talking about my mental health, attempting to argue that I had been struggling with depression and couldn’t make a sound identification due to my mental status. Before I could even begin to tell him what kind of a ridiculous assessment that was Mr. Donaldson objected stating that the court had already established that I wasn’t a medical professional and shouldn’t be expected to comment on my own mental stability and should the defense want to explore it they should have subpoenaed my counselor.
I smiled at his smart assery.
Without much more to say about anything, the defense released me from the stand and shortly after rested their arguments. Closing arguments came and went, again, the prosecution taking one for the win. The judge turned her attention to the jury and started a long and in-depth speech about their next tasks, telling them they would be sequestered until they could come to a unanimous verdict. The jurors were led from the room by the bailiff and taken to their secret deliberation location, and Jason Ramie, again, was taken from the room, led off in handcuffs. The judge thanked the lawyers and stated that the court was in recess until the jury came to a decision.
I looked around at Megan and Kalli, and then at Mr. Donaldson who gave me a tired smile.
“So,” I said quietly, looking around the room at everyone dispersing. “That’s it then?”
“I’m afraid so. Now we just wait for the jury to come back with a verdict.”
“And that could, in all seriousness, take days, right?”
He chuckled at me and laid a gentle and friendly hand on my shoulder. “Yes, there is always that chance. But realistically, I doubt the jury will have a hard time with this case. I wouldn’t go far if I were you,” he said with a wink. “But if you’ll excuse me I will use the break to make some calls that are pressing.” I nodded and stepped away, letting him pass and leave the courtroom.
We girls went back to our special nursing room and I could tell the girls were trying to keep my mind occupied on other topics because their conversations never touched on the trial or Mattie. They talked about Megan and Patrick’s dilemma over where in Portland to buy a house, or Kalli’s newest film she was working on. I let them have their conversation as I texted Porter to keep him in the loop. We’d had a good rhythm of texts going back and forth, but then suddenly his stopped and I didn’t get a response from him.
“Why is your forehead all scrunched up, Fella? It’s not good for wrinkles, you know,” Megan asked, glancing at me and noticing my uptight state.
“Porter just stopped texting me. We were in the middle of a conversation and now there’s nothing.”
“Maybe he’s feeding the baby?” Kalli supplied, trying to be helpful. I gave her a small smile.
We finished up and walked back to the lobby outside our courtroom. It felt weird to wait, especially since we had no idea for how long we’d be waiting. But to leave felt strange as well, like leaving the movie before the end, not knowing how it turned out, anticlimactic. So we waited. It was another half-hour before I received another text from Porter.
Hey. Sorry I disappeared. A lot happened in the last 30 minutes.
My breath exploded in my throat, catching, blocking any more air from coming in or getting out. I frantically typed out a response to his text.
What do you mean? Is Mattie ok?
I managed to force my lungs to work, taking in shaky breaths until I got his response.
“Ella, what’s up?” Kalli asked. She must have noticed my shaky breathing and pale face.
“I’m not sure. Porter sent me a really cryptic text and hasn’t explained himself yet. He said a lot has been happening at the hospital and that’s why he couldn’t text me back.” My phone pinged with his response.
Babe, calm down. Everything is fine. Mattie had her echocardiogram, which was very cool, and the doctor said that everything looks fine. She thinks the murmur she heard in the emergency room might have just been something cause by stress of the infection.
I exhaled, but kind of wanted to slap Porter through the phone for causing me to lose years off my life from the sheer panic I had endured in his radio silence.
Well, that’s good news.
Just as I’d hit send, Mr. Donaldson walked up to us with a smile on his face.
“The jury is done deliberating.” His smile grew even wider as he said the words. “Court will resume in thirty minutes.”
“Done already? It’s been less than an hour.”
“I’m not surprised, Mrs. Masters.”