LITMIR.BIZ

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sensed she was angry, but not necessarily at you. She didn’t say anything specific, though.” Flecks of green stood out in Melissa’s hazel eyes. “I tried to talk to her after she had the baby, about planning a future for herself and Dawn, but she pushed me away. Edmond, why is she in jail? That sounds serious.”

      “It is.” Months of holding his emotions in check, of standing strong for everyone around him, yielded to the relief of confiding in a person he trusted. “That jerk Simon talked her into driving the getaway car for a robbery.”

      “I can’t believe she’d do something that stupid.” Melissa set down her fork, giving him her full attention.

      Around them, people mingled and chatted. Edmond saw Karen glance their way as if about to approach, but he shook his head. She went in another direction. He decided he liked that woman. “According to Barbara—after the fact—Simon claimed he owed money to a criminal gang and that if he didn’t pay up, they’d kill him.”

      “Was it true?”

      “I have no idea.” Either way, that didn’t excuse the man’s crimes, nor Barb’s. “During the robbery, he and a policeman traded gunfire, and Simon was fatally wounded. The officer escaped injury, mercifully.”

      That was fortunate both for the officer and for Barbara. Under California law, the district attorney could have charged her with murder just for being a participant in the robbery. However, perhaps doubting that a jury would convict her of murder under the circumstances, the D.A. had only charged her with robbery.

      “Your sister was waiting in the getaway car?” Melissa asked.

      “That’s right.” She hadn’t witnessed the shooting, but she’d heard gunfire. “Simon staggered into the passenger seat. While she was arguing that they should go to a hospital, he died.”

      Melissa shook her head. “How awful.”

      “I can’t spare any regrets for that man,” Edmond said bitterly. “He ruined my sister’s life—with her compliance.”

      “What about Dawn? Where was she during all this?”

      “She’d gone to the beach with a friend’s family.” The shootout had occurred on a Saturday, while his niece was out of school. “The police contacted my father and stepmother, who called me. I picked her up and broke the news.” He clenched his fists at the memory.

      Edmond had built up to the subject gradually during the drive from the beach, telling his niece as much as he’d learned of the robbery and assuring her that her mother was unharmed but under arrest. Dawn had taken the news of Simon’s death solemnly, her response hard to read.

      Then, tearfully, she’d asked, “Is it because I was mad at him?”

      Shocked, Edmond had assured her that Simon’s death wasn’t her fault. “Neither you nor I nor anyone else has magical powers,” he’d told her, hoping that was the right thing to say. “This has nothing to do with you. Why were you mad at him?”

      “He yelled at me for leaving my toys out.”

      Edmond hadn’t been sure a seven-year-old understood what death meant, but later, after he’d hired a therapist, she’d insisted that Dawn did understand. Grieving was a complex process, she’d added. As Dawn entered new phases of development, she’d revisit the loss. For now, she needed to feel secure that the other people she loved weren’t going to disappear from her world, too.

      Unfortunately, Edmond couldn’t promise that about Barbara. He could only do his best to hold Dawn’s world together. Given his poor track record with his sister, he sometimes panicked over the missteps he might make.

      Melissa touched his arm, a soothing gesture that brought him back to this comfortable room and cheerful gathering. “Dawn’s been through a lot this past year,” she said. “So have you and Barbara.”

      “It’s been rough.” He sketched the rest of the sorry tale. After Barb’s arrest, a judge had granted bail, and she and Dawn had moved in with his father, Mort, and stepmother, Isabel, a retired nurse’s aide. During the trial, the grandparents had helped supervise the little girl, with frequent visits from Edmond until the jury had come back with the verdict two weeks ago. The jurors had convicted his sister of robbery and related charges. “Her sentencing is Monday afternoon.”

      She blinked. “The day after tomorrow?”

      “That’s right.” Edmond had already arranged to take the day off work to be there for moral support. Barb’s defense attorney, Joseph Noriega, had submitted a sentencing memorandum requesting leniency. By now the judge also had a probation report and the prosecutor’s recommendation. Edmond suspected they’d be less favorable.

      Melissa’s hand cupped his. “What kind of sentence is she facing?”

      “Minimum, a year in county jail plus probation.”

      “And the maximum?”

      Noriega had warned them to prepare for a longer term, to be served in state prison. “I’m trying not to dwell on it. Let’s wait till we know for sure.”

      “How can the judge separate her from her little girl any longer than necessary?” Melissa asked.

      “She’s the one who chose to break the law.” As an attorney, Edmond was a sworn officer of the court, and he understood the legal perspective. “If Simon had lived, she might have negotiated a deal based on testifying against him. But that’s not possible now.”

      The prosecutor had had no difficulty winning a conviction. The jury had reached a verdict in three hours, which was lightning speed, considering that they’d also had to elect a foreman, fill out paperwork and review multiple counts during that time.

      Melissa returned to her main concern. “You said she’ll be in jail at least a year. What are the arrangements for Dawn?”

      “That reminds me, I’d better check on her. I’ll tell you in a minute.” Before he could rise, however, Edmond observed his niece entering with the other girls, then sliding the glass door shut behind them. Tiffany shepherded the little band into the kitchen with their empty plates and glasses.

      While the youngsters were out of earshot, he said, “My Dad and Isabel indicated they’d take her, with my assistance. But that’s not settled.”

      “What do you mean?” Worry suffused Melissa’s expressive face. She’d always been empathetic, and he recalled how she used to love holding Dawn on her lap and paging through picture books with the little girl.

      Had that been a factor in her change of heart about having children? Later, he’d tried to figure out how she could have changed her opinions so dramatically without his awareness, and perhaps her relationship with Dawn had been a clue. But it wasn’t enough to explain her sudden shift.

      How ironic that he was now forced to step in as a substitute parent of sorts. “While Barb was preparing for trial, she was afraid that if she were convicted, the authorities might put Dawn in foster care,” he answered.

      “That would be horrible!”

      “Yes.” It didn’t take an expert in child psychology to understand how traumatic that would be for everyone. “Barb wanted to assign temporary guardianship to Isabel and Dad, but they were too tied up with Dad’s medical issues to go to family court with her.”

      “Medical issues?”

      “Skin cancer.” He explained briefly that his father had undergone treatment and tests now showed him to be cancer-free. Then he continued, “Appointment of a guardian requires a judge’s approval.” Nearly hysterical with fear for her daughter’s well-being as the trial date approached, Barbara had begged Edmond to take emergency guardianship himself.

      “What did you do?” Melissa watched him intently.

      “I agreed, even though I’m obviously not the ideal person to raise a little girl.” That

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