Hank Lawson Fan Fiction - After the Rain

Chapter Twenty-Three

Licking his lips as if relishing this portion of the trial, Melvin Leslie stepped to the podium in front of the Jurors to deliver his closing argument. "Gentlemen, you're here to punish a man who murdered another human being. Regardless of the number--or the type--of crimes Cole Walker had been charged with, he had never been convicted, and no one man had the right to make himself Judge, Jury, and Executioner.

"You've heard from people who've known Hank Lawson for years. He's a man whose business involves providing the town with whores and whiskey--a man who has a foul temper--who has a reputation as something of a brawler. Good with a knife. He's also a jealous man. A man who was willing to shoot a woman down because she left him--because another man was about to make her his wife. If he couldn't have her, nobody could. A person like that--he has more than enough reason to kill another man who dares to think about raping the woman that he's decided that he wants for his own. More than enough reason to kill a man who held a gun on a former whore that he still has feelings for... When you add those two things to the fact that Doyle Walker shot him in the back, and Hank Lawson is a man who doesn't forgive and forget, you have your motive.

"People around here say that Mr. Lawson has never killed anybody-- but how do we actually know that? Even when guns were outlawed in Colorado Springs, he defied the man who was then sheriff, Matthew Cooper, and continued to carry a gun. And has he ever hesitated to fire that gun? Or has he always been quick to solve whatever problem he had with his fists or a weapon?

"That little charade that you saw at the table--with Sheriff Simon unable to identify Hank from that group of men: pure theatrics! Daniel Simon knew who he saw that night--and the man that he saw was Hank Lawson.

"Lawson slipped in--unnoticed, because people are used to seeing him around late at night. He hit Sheriff Simon with the butt of his gun, then managed to slit Cole's throat before Doyle woke up. I don't know why he didn't kill both of them then and there. I don't know where Doyle Walker is right now, but that smoke screen that Mr. Lausenstrom threw up about him maybe being in with somebody else to kill his brother and split the money didn't convince me. I doubt that it convinced you either.

"The only person who can give Hank Lawson an alibi for the night of February 15 is his fiancee, Miss McShane. Do you believe that any woman who thinks she's in love makes a reliable witness? Do you think that she would hesitate to lie to protect a man who she had planned to marry?

"The defense is saying that Hank Lawson hadn't regained enough strength to take on the Walkers. Have you ever seen what pure rage can do to a man's determination and strength? And there's no doubt in my mind that Hank Lawson was enraged by the injuries that he felt the Walkers had done to him. None whatsoever.

"Hank Lawson is a cold-blooded killer. The evidence against him is clear. After you've had time to deliberate over this case and vote, I am certain that you will agree with me that the defendant is guilty and deserves to be hanged by the neck until he's dead. Thank you."

As I watched Melvin Leslie make his way back to his table, it was apparent that he considered Hank's fate sealed. The smugness written in every line of his face indicated that he had no doubt whatsoever that his interpretation of the facts would be accepted without question. Many Westerners enjoyed a good hanging--and if he lost, the non-guilty verdict would deny the town that entertainment. Q.E.D. Quod erat demonstrandum.

As Erik strode confidently forward to take his place, my nervousness increased. He was far more polished than the prosecuting attorney in every possible way, and that very thing could work for or against him. Jurors might find it difficult to relate to this handsome, well-dressed Easterner, even though he had handled himself extremely well throughout the trial.

The last impression that he would leave with this panel of twelve could be the deciding factor in Hank's trial. It had all come down to this moment. Erik held his brother's life and my own in his hands. If he lost, then Hank would die. Even though our relationship was over, I would never stop loving him--never stop seeing a rope tighten around his neck again and again or stop hearing the sound of a trap door opening in my dreams.

"Early this morning I explained to you that the burden of proof is on the prosecution. That they must prove beyond a shadow of doubt that the defendant is guilty." Erik paced the floor in front of the Jury. "I also told you that in order to do that they must show that Hank Lawson had not only a motive--or intent--but the capability and the opportunity to have committed the crime for which he is charged. As you're well aware by now they've completely failed. Why? The reason is quite simple--because Hank Lawson is an innocent man. They can't prove what never happened.

"First, let's talk about capability. Under normal circumstances Hank is a man who can definitely handle himself in a fight. He's strong, he's big, and he's tough. He has to be to keep order at the Gold Nugget. But these weren't normal circumstances. A little more than two weeks earlier--at the beginning of February--he was shot in the back. Shot at such close range that it's only by the grace of God that the bullet hit a rib instead of a vital organ. Still, if it hadn't been for the exceptional medical skills of Dr. Quinn he would have died. You've heard her testimony. Hank Lawson was in no way capable of physically overcoming two able-bodied men on February 15--men who were larger than himself and basically healthy. Hank was weak from losing a great deal of blood. He was hampered by the pain of a broken rib and a healing wound. Even if he had wanted revenge, he couldn't have acted on that anger.

"But was Mr. Lawson even angry? Did he have a motive? Mr. Leslie would have you believe that he acted from a sense of outrage that the Walkers had meant to rape and possibly kill his fiancee--and because Cole had held a gun on Mrs. Bing. But you heard Hank himself say that even though no one likes getting shot, those injuries which brought him so close to dying also served as a catalyst to bring Miss McShane and him together...that it had forced them both to admit the depth of the feelings they held for each other. Under the circumstances, that is probably the first bullet that Hank's ever taken that he really didn't mind too badly...where the outcome was worth the pain.

"On February 15th Mr. Lawson was a happy man--you've heard that from more than one witness. Why wouldn't he have been? Take a good, long look at Caitlyn McShane. A beautiful, educated, well-respected lady had admitted to loving him--had agreed to marry him. Hank was feeling like the luckiest man alive--thinking ahead to the future, not looking back at the past. Things were coming together. His son was about to graduate and return to Colorado Springs, he had the love of a woman who any man in the world would envy him being able to call his own, and his mind was on building a house for the family that he hoped would come along after they were married. He had everything to lose and nothing to gain by taking revenge on the Walkers, no matter what they had tried to do or had done.

"That brings us to opportunity. Sheriff Simon has said that whoever killed Cole Walker would have been drenched in blood--but there's not a drop of blood on the shirt that witnesses have identified as the one Lawson was wearing that night. Not one drop. No one saw Hank in town--and in a town of this size someone would have noticed. Someone saw whoever killed Cole, and they simply don't realize it. But no one saw Hank--not from somewhere around 3:30 in the afternoon until about 3:00 the next morning. Because he wasn't around for them to see. He was with his fiancée--before, during, and after the time when this crime was committed.

"Caitlyn McShane has been your teacher for the past school year. Every inch of her bearing tells you that she is a truly gracious lady from an impeccable background--a warm, intelligent woman who earned your respect and admiration, and who's been considered above reproach. Her honesty and integrity have never once been questioned. Miss McShane and the man she was engaged to marry were looking at land together--planning for their future-- when they were caught out in a heavy thunderstorm. No matter how much Mr. Lawson wanted to safeguard the reputation of the woman that he loved, at that moment it was more important to keep her safe from harm. Luckily, they found shelter--a place to wait where it was warm and dry until the storm ended, and he could take her home again.

"When she came forward and told Sheriff Simon that Hank had been with her that night, most lawmen would have believed her and started looking for another suspect. Why? Because this is a woman to whom her reputation is extremely important--and who is known to be truthful. Why would she be willing to admit to being alone with Hank for such a long time if it hadn't happened? Miss McShane has been gently raised--and she knew quite well that she was jeopardizing her good name. Even though nothing inappropriate happened in that cabin, she knew that some people would choose to believe otherwise. So why did she do it? Because it's 'the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth...' and she would rather live with the consequences than to have to live knowing that she had kept silent when a man could die because of that silence.

"But Miss McShane should never have had to testify on that witness stand today--should never have had to endure this kind of humiliation. In fact, none of us should be here right now. These charges should have been dropped a long time ago. In truth, there never should have even been a warrant issued against Hank Lawson. There is not one single scrap of evidence to link Hank to this crime. No one has presented any testimony to dispute Miss McShane's word that the defendant was with her at the time of the murder. No one claims to have seen Hank somewhere else. No one except Daniel Simon. The same Mr. Simon who has now admitted that he can't positively say that the man who came up behind him in the jail that night was Hank Lawson. He's retracted his previous testimony--admitted that he's no longer convinced that the man who he saw was Hank.

"Mr. Simon may have wanted it to be Hank. It's no secret that the two of them have never seen eye to eye. But the fact that they don't care much for each other doesn't make Mr. Lawson guilty of murder. When that badge is pinned onto a man's chest he swears to uphold the law and to serve justice, not his personal agenda. He swears to treat all men fairly--and equally--in strict accordance to the Law. He swears that he will diligently search for the truth and perform his duties to the best of his ability--as an oath to God and to the citizens who elected him. An honest sheriff believes in those rules--and he lives his life by them. Therefore, we must assume that Sheriff Simon somehow made a mistake.

"But it's a mistake that has proven extremely costly to Hank Lawson. Because of that mistake he's already been deprived of nearly two months of freedom--and he's suffered the pain of a beating that broke additional ribs and dislocated his shoulder. Because of that mistake he was put into the position of having a bounty on his head--put in danger of being shot and killed--and forced to make a decision whether or not to go and leave everything that he's ever worked for behind, or stay and risk being hung for a crime that he didn't commit. He was kept behind bars when he should have been proudly watching his only son graduate. When he should have been by Zach's side after his accident and no one knew for many long hours if he would live or die. Hank has paid an awfully high price for being tall and blond--and for not being one of the local sheriff's favorite people.

"Mr. Lawson admitted that in the past he has been quick to anger, but according to the testimony of those who have known him well and for many years he has never killed another man. There's never even been a whisper of suspicion to connect his name to a murder. He has settled disputes many times with his fists, but the only time that he's used a knife or shot another human being was in self-defense or to uphold the law. And even when he shot one of the men who had held Dr. Mike hostage, he didn't shoot to kill.

"The West hardens a man. If you came here 20 years ago--or even l2 years ago--you know what it was like to carve out a place for yourself and hang onto it. Men here lived by a code that was unbending--but it was the law of the land. That code might well have been harsh, but it worked to maintain order until times changed. When things did change, the men who lived here changed with them--or chose to move on. Hank elected to stay--and to change. He's put his own life on the line over and over again to protect this town that he calls home. He has regrets from the past--as he said on the witness stand, which one of us does not? But none of the regrets that Hank Lawson has to live with involve killing a man named Cole Walker. That's one thing that is NOT on his conscience.

"We're here today because Daniel Simon made a mistake. Hank Lawson was nowhere near the jail. Not that night. Not on February l5th. The sheriff caught a glimpse of someone--someone tall and blond, who probably smokes some type of tobacco and owns a hat. Not much to go on, is it? Certainly not nearly enough to convict a man of murder and hang him. That description fits what--maybe a thousand men in these mountains? More? Less?

"We may never know what happened in that jail. Only one man knows for certain--maybe two, if this was an escape attempt that somehow went wrong, and Doyle Walker had a hand in killing his brother. I don't know the answer to that. What I do know is that the man who is sitting before you did not and could not have killed Cole Walker. Whoever--and wherever--the killer is, it's not the man who's on trial here today. His name is not Hank Lawson. While Walker lay dying Hank Hawson was miles away from here, planning a life with the woman that he loved. His mind wasn't on revenge or murder: it was on a dark-haired beauty who had given him her heart--who had agreed to spend the rest of her life with him.

"We've come to the end of this trial, and we'll soon be turning the evidence over into your capable hands. You've heard the testimony, and now it's time for the Gentlemen of the Jury to make certain that justice is served. In this case the only possible way that justice CAN be served is by finding the defendant, Hank Lawson, to be NOT guilty. Thank you."

When Erik finished I realized that I was shaking, my nails cutting into Zach's palm where I had gripped his hand too tightly. I didn't hear the Judge's instructions to the Jury--his voice becoming a faraway drone in my ears--until Beth pinched me sharply in the side.

"Caitlyn Adriana McShane, if you faint now, I swear that I will kill you," she threatened under her breath. "Breathe!"

Tears in my eyes, I met my sister's gaze. At this moment she was the strong one--the one who was determined to preserve my dignity and that of our family during Hank's trial. I took in a deep shuddering breath, the memory of Ethella's scolding voice ringing inside my head: "When it comes right down to it, the only thing nobody can ever take away from you, girl, is your pride." With her love, her own inner strength, and her indomitable will, the black woman who had dedicated much of her life to raising us had forged the steel that was in me and in all of my sisters--and regardless of the emotions that ripped me apart, I vowed that I would not let her down.

Moments later the room began to empty so that the Jury could deliberate in private, and I accepted the offer of Zach's arm to get to my feet, fearful that my knees were still too weak to support my weight. Smiling down at me, his blue eyes calm and sure, he laid his hand over mine and squeezed.

Daniel nudged Hank with his rifle, moving him out onto the street and back to the jail cell, and I bit my lip as I watched him go. These next minutes and hours would seem endless.

"Shall we go to the clinic?" Michaela appeared at my side.

"Cat needs to eat. SOON," Beth said meaningfully.

"I can't."

"You're going to try." Mike took my elbow and steered me toward the door. "Grace is bringing over fried chicken and cherry pie--two of your favorite things."

Mindful of the fact that everyone around was intent on eavesdropping on our conversation, Brian, Matthew, Beth, and Zach fell silently in behind us as Sully and Mike walked me to her office. Again, I felt the curious stares of strangers, and one of the men that we passed smirked and gave me a knowing wink.

No matter how this trial ended, my reputation was in shreds. With the public admission that my engagement had been called off, I had absolutely no protection from the men who would have left me alone out of fear of provoking Hank's temper. His reputation for being something of a rogue and a swain, combined with the fact that I had spent 10 hours alone with him, was more than enough to convince much of Colorado Springs that I was no longer chaste. That misperception made me fair game for both sexes, who would treat me with the same lack of respect as those three women had on the sidewalk weeks earlier.

The food was waiting, Grace already back at the cafe to assist her helpers in serving a meal to an overflow crowd. Mike left the "CLOSED" sign out and was about to lock the door when Erik hurried across the street to join us.

"Never seen anybody any better at lawyerin' than you." Sully held out his hand to shake that of Hank's brother.

"Hopefully, it will be good enough." Erik nodded his thanks.

"You were more than good--you were great." Matthew grinned. "I could learn an awful lot from watchin' you work."

"I would have been ill-prepared without the loan of those lawbooks--and your generosity with your time." He turned to offer his hand to the younger attorney. "Although you weren't officially on the case, you're exactly the kind of man that I am always grateful to have standing in my corner."

"It was a privilege."

"That Melvin Leslie was expecting to go up against some country bumpkin." Brian smiled broadly. "He had no idea what he was getting into when he agreed to go a few rounds with you two."

"Every person in that room was so completely focused on what you had to say during the closing argument, that I could have heard a pin drop," Michaela opined.

"We can't possibly lose," Beth agreed enthusiastically.

"Unfortunately, there's no way of predicting what a Jury might do." Erik took off his coat and hung it on a peg. "All we can do now is wait."

"And pray." Beth moved closer to Zach. "How long do you think that it will be before we know?"

"It's three now--a decision should come down before dark, unless the Jury is badly split in two directions." Erik checked his timepiece.

"Is Pa alone?" Zach glanced out the window toward the jail.

"He wanted it that way. I had planned to stay with him until they called us back in--it's my usual custom during a trial--but he asked me to come here instead. To spend this time with you."

"I'm not so sure that he oughta be by himself."

"Neither am I--but when Hank has his mind made up, there's not much point in arguing about it." His uncle shrugged.

"I never did figure out how you knew Daniel wouldn't be able to tell which one was Pa," Zach confessed, the mouth-watering aromas of the meal that Mike was spreading out on her desk drawing him over to offer his assistance.

"I didn't know for sure. It was more of a gut feeling--a gamble that Hans and I agreed that we had no choice but to take. In the final analysis it was going to come down to Caitlyn's word against Daniel's, and we needed something to tip the scales in our favor. It was anyone's guess whether or not we could successfully pull it off, but when Cait arrived at the jail this morning and called Hank by my name I felt a lot more confident that it just might work. If she could make that mistake, anybody could. After that my biggest concern was how to keep a man who was facing the possibility of death by hanging from lighting up a cigarette all day--or if I couldn't, to get Preston to have a cigar with me so we would all smell like smoke..." He smiled ruefully.

"I felt sick at my stomach when Hank walked into the church, and I saw that all of that beautiful hair of his was gone," Beth admitted flatly. "In my book, this adds one more reason for hating Mr. Simon."

"Last time I remember Pa wearin' it short was back before Ma died," Zach acknowledged, picking up a biscuit to munch on while he inspected platters filled with crispy chicken, glazed whole carrots, green beans cooked with new potatoes, and an over-sized cherry pie.

"After the initial shock wore off somewhat, I thought that he looked quite the handsome gentleman," Michaela said diplomatically. "Dressed the way that he is--with his hair cut short and clean-shaven-- Hank would be considered an extremely attractive man in the most elegant parlors in Boston."

"Sounds like I might wanna pay Jake a visit real soon and get myself a haircut." Sully wrapped his arms around her full waistline and smiled down at her with love in his eyes.

"Don't even think about it," she ordered, brushing a wavy lock away from his face.

"You are to eat every bite of this, Cat," Beth demanded, placing a chicken breast, vegetables and bread on a plate and handing it to me. "You almost fainted in there awhile ago."

"I'll have something later--I'm really not hungry."

"Eat it anyway--for the baby." Michaela lightly touched her pregnant abdomen, reminding me of the night when I had taken a tray up to her room and said those same words. "Josef's godmother will be too weak to hold him, if you get any skinnier."

"I thought that I was too much of a 'wild woman' to be trusted as a godparent for your son?" I hugged her.

"A little spice in his life will be good for 'Joe." Sully grinned.

"Besides, it'll get you back to Colorado for at least a visit, if you have to come for the christening," Brian reminded me.

"You won't be around yourself, come fall...in fact, I'll be expecting to see you at Riverview on holidays, when there's not enough time to travel back and forth between here and Virginia." I touched his sleeve. "And I'll make certain to have enough parties to introduce you to all of the prettiest girls that I know."

"We may never see you again, if all Southern girls look like Caitlyn and Beth," Matthew ribbed his younger brother.

"You're welcome to come for a visit, too--and check that out for yourself." I smiled at Matthew.

"The one positive thing about your decision to leave is that after Brian is at University it will give him an alternative to always visiting with Mother in Boston," Mike said drily.

Picking up his plate, Erik beckoned me to a far corner of the room to share our meal. "Are you all right?"

I shook my head, knowing that I would start to cry if I attempted to answer, and he tipped my chin up with his fingers so that he could look into my eyes. "I'm sorry. I honestly didn't believe that Leslie would have the unmitigated gall to ask you that last question--so I didn't prepare you for it."

"I'm not sure that you could have. No one could have."

"This is the hardest case that I've ever had to try." He sighed. "Simply because of the emotions that are attached--because I'm going to have a damned hard time living with myself if I don't win."

"I should never have put you into the position of having to defend your own brother... Never should have contacted you."

"If you hadn't, I might never have found him again," he reminded me quietly. "Hans could have been put to death without me even knowing--and certainly without me having the opportunity to do all that I can to keep that from happening. Don't ever regret that telegram, Caitlyn, because I never will."

"As wonderful as you were in front of that Jury today, I'm still frightened," I confessed.

"So am I. Now." He stared down at the plate in his lap. "I've been an attorney for enough years that while I was asking questions I could put who Hans is at the back of my mind and focus on doing my job. Now that there's nothing to do but wait, it's impossible to keep that same professional distance. He's my brother. The towheaded little kid that I grew up with, not just another client."

"I was amazed at how much you had learned about Hank's life here in Colorado in such a short period of time. It was obvious to me that even on cross-examination, you knew more details of every situation than Mr. Leslie did."

"One of the first things that a lawyer learns is to never ask a question if you don't already know the answer," he admitted. "When witnesses are called by the opposing side you don't have the same opportunity to interview them at length ahead of time, but one of the advantages of a town this small--in a court case--is that everyone knows everyone else."

"And everyone else's business," I interjected drily.

"And everyone's else's business," he agreed. "What I did to prepare was spend long hours with Hans, picking his brain about things that have happened in his life over the years, then take Loren Bray to lunch or invite him to have a drink with me every day to fill in any gaps. He has a wealth of information. There's very little that has happened in the entire history of this town that he isn't aware of... Between Hans and Loren I could probably write a book on Colorado Springs, if Mrs. Jennings hadn't beaten me to it."

"Did you read her book?"

"Absolutely. Every word of it." He grinned. "If there's one thing that I'm good at, it's doing my homework."

"From the way that his case was laid out, I would guess that Mr. Leslie spent a great deal of time with Mr. Bing, even though he didn't call him to the stand." I made a moue. "I like Horace--he's always been very kind--but he's extremely bitter when it comes to Hank. Because of Myra."

"To marry a woman and continue to live in the same town where she worked as a prostitute would be difficult enough...but to know that with Hans it wasn't simply business as usual would be next to intolerable," he suggested.

"Erik...if this turns out wrong...is there anything that we can do?" I swallowed hard.

"If we lose, I'll file an immediate appeal."

"On what grounds?"

"On the basis that Daniel Simon should be considered a biased, unreliable witness who has personal reasons for wanting to see Hank convicted. From what you've told me, he could be brought up on criminal charges for helping to hide a fugitive. What Simon did was a felony--pure and simple. Once that badge was pinned on, he had a legal obligation to arrest Sully...and out of all the people in this town, who is the one most likely to turn him in for not doing it? The man who he narrowly beat in a public election for sheriff. I would argue that to date he's put Hank in jail for infractions of the law that others routinely are allowed to get by with, and now he's gone so far as to charge him with murder without any corroborating evidence. Nothing but his own testimony. In my opinion, there's enough that I can pull together to raise some serious questions-- serious enough to lead to an investigation and secure a new trial."

When the knock finally came it rattled my strained nerves so badly that I dropped my teacup. China shattered into tiny shards against the floor as Sully opened the door to Daniel.

"Court will reconvene in ten minutes."

"I'm on my way." Erik slipped his arms into his coat and straightened his cravat before hurrying after the sheriff.

"Michaela, I'm so sorry." I started to pick up the broken glass.

"Forget the cup. It's not important."

"But this is part of the good china that your mother sent from Boston. I'll order another one tomorrow--I promise. In fact, I'll buy several, in case I get the fumble-fingers again." I piled pieces on top of each other. "I don't know how I could be so clumsy. It really isn't like me at all."

"Caitlyn, I don't care about the cup," Michaela repeated.

"One of those slivers could have easily gotten between the boards, and Katie might end up cutting herself when she's playing on the floor," I fretted. "I'll get the glass up and then sweep and mop in here."

"Leave it for later, Cat." Beth held out my shawl.

"I can't leave broken glass on the floor when there are small children around--you know that as well as I do. It's too dangerous. I'll just..."

"For God's sake, what is WRONG with you?" Her voice sounded puzzled. "It's only a cup and saucer. We'll have Mother ship Michaela a whole new set of china, if that will make you feel better. But for now forget about it--we need to get ourselves over to the church!"

"But what if Katie..."

"Pull yourself together, Caitlyn, and get up off of that floor, right this minute!" Beth ordered sternly, standing over me with her hands on her hips. "Katie is with the sitter--safely at home--and we have to go!"

"I can't." I dispiritedly shook my head.

"You can, and you will." Her tone brooked no argument.

"I have to clean up the glass," I insisted dully.

"CAITLYN, I mean it! Get up!" Beth shouted.

Crouching down next to me, Zach took my hands into his when I continued trying to pick up the broken pieces. "Cait, stop," he requested gently. "Don't."

"I can't go back," I whispered. "I'm sorry."

"You have to."

"I can't take any more." I lifted my eyes to his, tears flowing unchecked. "I just can't."

"We're all scared..." he admitted softly. "But we have to be there now for Pa."

"What if they..."

"He needs you there either way--and so do I." Zach's eyes held mine.

He reached out, enfolding me against him with his unbroken arm, and I clung tightly to Hank's son while he rocked me comfortingly back and forth, both of us still down on the floor. Finally I pulled away and ran my fingers through his flaxen locks, smoothing them into place. Cupping the back of my head with his palm, he leaned his forehead against mine for a moment, then lightly kissed my cheek.

"Ready to go now?"

I nodded, and he got up, extending his hand to pull me to my feet. Beth draped the shawl over my shoulders, and Zach kept his arm around me as we walked to the church--toward whatever news awaited us.

If possible, the building seemed even more packed than it had before, people lining the walls, crammed hip to hip in the pews, and standing four deep near the entrance to the church. They seemed to be sucking all of the air out of the hot, stuffy room, and I felt myself grow light-headed again. Only the firm grip of Zach's fingers on my upper arm as he guided me down the center aisle kept me from turning and fleeing back outside into the growing chill of the approaching nightfall.

Erik entered, followed by Hank and Daniel, and the sheriff positioned himself against the wall, rifle ready in case Hank tried to run when the verdict was announced. The members of the Jury took their seats, and Judge Baker lowered himself into the chair at the table at the front of the suddenly silent room.

"Gentlemen of the Jury, have you reached your verdict?"

"We have, Your Honor." Nate Jamison stood.

"Would the defendant please rise?" The Judge paused to allow Hank and Erik to come to their feet before turning his attention back to the panel. "In the matter of Colorado versus Hans Mikkel Lausenstrom, also known as Hank Lawson--on the charge of first degree murder committed against one Cole Oliver Walker--what say ye? How do you find the defendant--guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty."

The room erupted around me, shouts of joy and whistles drowning out whatever the Judge was trying to say. Erik had Hank in a bear-hug, pounding him on the back, and I saw tears on both men's cheeks. Beth was on her feet, wrapped in Zach's arms, and they surged forward with the rest of the crowd to surround the two brothers.

Hank and Erik were shaking hands, talking excitedly and accepting congratulations at the front of the church, and within seconds the two had been engulfed by well-wishers. The noisy crowd grew ever-larger until I could see nothing but the tops of a pair of blond heads as I sat numbly in the pew, unable to believe that the tension of the past two months had finally come to an end.

Crying quietly, I pressed the edge of my shawl against my face. In the course of a few seconds the threat of the hangman's noose, which had terrified me during every waking moment since those early morning hours of February 16th, was suddenly gone.

There was a roar of approval, and I saw Erik lifted to the shoulders of Hank, Jake, Mark and Zach. He was laughing, having to duck his head low as they carried him through the throng toward the open doors, and the crowd was on its feet, clapping and cheering.

"Drinks on the house all night long, over at the Gold Nugget!" Hank shouted hoarsely, as they led the raucous parade out of the church and toward the hotel.

"Cait?" Michaela sat down next to me. "Can I get you anything?"

"They're not going to hang him," I whispered, turning to meet her gaze.

"No," she agreed softly.

"It's over.

"Yes...it's all over."

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