Reborn by Melody Anne
Chapter Seventeen
“Please, be seated,” Judge Scott stated as she sat on her bench above the attorneys, the jurors, and the audience.
“Members of the jury, today you’ll hear closing statements from the prosecution and defense. Both sides have been allotted fifteen minutes to present their closing arguments. When they finish you’ll be taken back to your conference room and asked to deliberate on the case until a unanimous verdict is reached. There’s no timeline for this, and I ask that each of you be earnest in having your voice heard. Discuss this case, and only this case. Outside interests have no weight in this and I know each of you will showcase the highest level of integrity. Sir, the time is now yours,” Judge Scott finished, looking at the district attorney.
Since the failed kidnapping attempt of the defendant, along with the bomb scare, the courtroom had been absent of any outside individuals. Cameras were allowed to film but there were no operators behind them. If the station decided to focus on one individual, or on the entirety of the courtroom, they’d have to live with those results.
Each of the owners of the cameras were required to wait outside the doors, which caused considerable stress but if they wanted any footage at all they were left with no choice but to comply with the judge’s orders. The common theme was having the camera focused on either Anna Miller, the jury, or the entire courtroom. Tension was high for everyone, both outside of the courtroom and inside it.
The district attorney slowly stood, only briefly looking at his notes before letting them slide smoothly back down to their resting place on the table he’d previously been sitting at. It was all for show. He’d gone through this dog and pony show too many times to count.
For the majority of his life, he’d worked at perfecting his mannerisms in the courtroom . . . who to look at first, who to make eye contact with, and who to never give a second of attention to, silently letting the jury know that person wasn’t worth their time or attention. He’d perfected how to put the most effective inflection into his words to make his message clear and understandable to the men and women who held the decision of a win or loss in their hands.
As the only child in his family to not only go to college, but to graduate with a law degree from Harvard, he knew there was a specific way to talk to different people. Even decades later he always remembered what his late mother and father had taught him about how to treat people, and in moments like this he prayed they were nodding their heads in approval.
The DA started. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen. It’s been a long two weeks, hasn’t it?” He paused as if they’d actually answer. He looked them in the eyes as they smiled or nodded. Good. They were alert and paying attention.
“For all of us: you, Judge Scott, the defense team, Mr. Brohm, the bailiff, and Ms. Johnson over there on the stenograph, it’s been mentally and physically challenging to be here. We all have not only been expected to stay focused on a lot of information that had to do with the case, but we’ve been shocked that a juror involved himself in an unscrupulous way. We’ve had to fear for our lives with a bomb scare, and we’ve had to endure hours of being kept in this room.” He sighed as he paced in front of the jury box. He had their sympathy. They were all in it together.
“I can promise you that in my thirty plus years of working in a courtroom the kind of things that have happened the past week have never occurred before.” He gave another dramatic pause. “And trust me, I’ve seen the worst of the worst of cases, but this has topped them all. It would be easy to make jokes about it, and it would also be easy for each of you to request to be pardoned from the trial after any of those events, but I’m ever thankful each of you has stayed. It shows the character of each one of you, and I’m proud of your service in all of this. Hold your heads high when you walk out of here as there are few on earth who possess the strength each of you has.”
The DA slowly walked to the front of the jury box, ensuring he could make unquestionable eye contact. “There’s been testimony from doctors, forensic data technicians, and an entire armada of men and women in the security world of the FBI. Each one of them has laid out the multitude of laws that Anna Miller has broken. Her signature, her face on date-stamped video, her personal and her forged accounts she thought she’d hidden from those who are a lot smarter than her.” He stopped again as if it was a cut and dry case and there was no other decision for the jury other than a guilty verdict.
“All of this evidence has been verified without a chance of reasonable doubt creeping in. The sad thing about this case is that the financial aspect is just a tiny piece of the whole picture. The other, and to me the more insidious, is what she’s done to her own brother.”
He then did a small turn so there was no denying his focus was now at the defendant’s table, and specifically on Anna Miller. “How many of you have siblings? How many of you have sons and daughters? I have two brothers and a sister and also three children. A son and two daughters. While every family is different, there’s no denying the truth of siblings. I can honestly say that my brothers and I used to fight like cats and dogs. There’d be times that we’d get going so hard our mom would come in swinging a switch. Whoever was at the receiving end of that stick was the unlucky sibling of the moment. My own children have tested every single boundary their siblings have set and sometimes crossed it just to see their brother or sister get spun up. I’m sure each of you have similar stories. Some days my wife and I want to send all three of them to the moon on the outside of a rocket ship just to get a few minutes of peace and quiet.”
A few chuckles from the jury box told him the connection had been made.
Then the DA put on his cool, calm, and sensitive voice. “Then there was the rest of the time. In all of the arguments, in all of the fighting and yelling and pure craziness, there was an understanding that we seriously loved each other. Yes, we could say and do some hurtful things but each of us knew that at the end of the day any disagreements stayed right there and we moved on. To actually wish harm upon those we’ve spent our lives with is incomprehensible to most of us. But here we are in this case. A sister, who the brother never knew, had been plotting evil outcomes for nearly forty years. It could’ve only been a sinister story, but the depths of her depravity was deeper than anything any of us could’ve ever imagined. Instead of using her intellect to better people, to enhance those around the community, she put all of her energy into creating one of the most complex spider webs known to man to destroy her own brother. It isn’t only sad, it’s morbidly grotesque.”
He stopped to make sure his words fully sank in. He then turned his attention back to the jury as he slowly walked toward his table. “I’ll leave you with this. When you look in the mirror at night, do you think you could do what Anna Miller has done? Do you think one of your siblings could do to you what she did to her own brother? Damien Whitfield has been a model citizen in this world, helping children, the poor, the community, and making this world an all-around better place. Damien, his wife, and his precious daughter have never asked for these atrocities to occur but here we are, trying our damnedest to send a lawful message to the entire community — that we won’t tolerate hate and deceitful people who bend and break the laws at their whim. Laws the rest of us follow. These power-hungry elites believe they can get away with their illegal activity because of their position in life. They think the people they’re supposed to represent are to serve them instead of the other way around.” He was good at knowing when to pause and let things sink in. The jury was rapt as they followed each and every one of his movements in the courtroom.
“It’s because of this, and because of the overwhelming evidence provided, that allows me to know each of you will join me in saying — Anna Miller is guilty on all charges.” He slowly moved to his table and sat as if the conclusion was set and there was nothing for him to worry about. The tension his monologue had created was as thick as pea soup. The only noise heard in the courtroom was the faint humming of the furnace as it worked deep in the underbelly of the courthouse to heat all of the rooms.
The corporate news stations might not have been in the room, but they were live streaming and their fingers were working as fast as the prosecutor spoke. Once he finished his closing statement, hashtags were instantly created and went viral within minutes. The highest rated ones were #DefendDamien #LifeforSenatorAnna and #MillertheWannaBeKiller. Before long those tags were scrolling at the bottom of newsfeeds across the world. It was obvious where the heart of the people lay: in agreement with the prosecutor — Anna should be put away for a very, very long time for what she’d done to her brother and to the people she was supposed to have been representing.
Though the DA wanted to show confidence that the decision was already made, he truly loved his country and loved that in the great nation of the United States of America, the defendant always had the opportunity to be heard. He’d lost cases where he knew the defendant was guilty, but that was law and order and the right to be judged by a jury of your peers. Sometimes it didn’t go the way he wanted, and it angered him, but the system couldn’t be infringed upon.
That might rub some people the wrong way, especially when a case was as obvious as the one he’d just tried, but that was what separated those who cared about the sovereignty of the country and those who thought freedom was simply a suggestion instead of a universal right. He’d choose freedom every day over government rule, even if that meant the bad guys got away with murder once in a while. For the former senator, her only chance at freedom lay in the hands of twelve men and women and whether or not they’d bought her story over the facts presented to them.
Anna Miller’s legal team had been brilliant, insightful, and charged so much money they rarely lost. They didn’t take low profile cases, and someone had to have a small fortune to buy their representation.
Some people thought it was better to look like they were losing in the beginning only to have a triumphant victory at the end. Some liked to take the lead right up front. Anna’s team of lawyers liked to look like winners from the start. The DA didn’t think they’d achieved their goal in this case. He was well aware the defense attorneys made a point to win in whatever manner was needed, including walking the thin line between lawful and lawless, just as long as the end result was their client walking out of the courthouse with them.
Throughout the trial the team had done an excellent job of making sure each witness the DA put up seemed questionable in their information and testimony. Even the most educated and highest ranked members of specific industries didn’t walk off the witness stand as untouchable and brightly polished as they’d appeared when they’d entered the courtroom.
Even when Damien gave his testimony that included a plethora of photographs submitted as evidence showing what he’d gone through the night he was attacked, Anna Miller’s legal team was able to poke holes into what was presented via the prosecutor. They might not have been big holes, but even the smallest crack could potentially lead to a sinking ship over enough time. Her lawyers had worked hard at finding and exploiting cracks whenever possible.
Avery, Sleep’s wife and former defense attorney extraordinaire, watched the closing arguments with intense interest. She didn’t miss defending people, and she had no desire to be in the courtroom on that side of the aisle anymore, but she could remember the rush of being in that position.
“You know, this team representing Anna is great,” Avery said over her shoulder to Sleep. Her husband simply nodded. They were all tensely paying attention to the television now.
For the next ten minutes practically every person in the Washington area was watching the closing remarks with rapt attention, straining to hear each word said to the jurors. This was history, this was life altering, it was a testament for a community, a city, and a country . . . and no one wanted to miss a single sentence. If there was anyone hoping for Anna Miller to be found not guilty you’d have had to search for a long time near and far to find them. Thankfully, at least for the moment, the defense team only had to worry about the decision the jurors would make.
“Jurors, we’re now at the point where I instruct you of your duties and remind you of the charges set forth. In a moment I’ll release you to deliberate your decision. Any and all questions, remarks, and inquiries regarding the law or this case will need to be written down and given to the bailiff. Please remember that this trial requires a unanimous decision for the defendant to be considered guilty. Juror number three is the foreperson and will be responsible for communication between you and the courtroom. When you’ve reached a verdict, the foreperson will notify the bailiff and then all of you will come back into the courtroom to hand me the verdict and then the foreperson will read it out loud. Do you have any questions regarding the process henceforth?” Judge Scott asked.
The jurors shook their heads in the negative and were subsequently sequestered to a conference room to begin their deliberation.
The lull in the action was the most difficult time for those awaiting a response, either in the positive or the negative, from the jurors. If the men and women responsible for the ruling found in favor of the prosecutor it was an instant ride to prison for Anna. If they ruled that Ms. Miller was not guilty then the state had spent a lot of time and resources on a trial that should’ve been a slam dunk. Each side had their own stress to live through for an indefinite amount of time.
“I believe the state did everything in our power to show the depravity of the defendant and I have no doubt the jury will agree with us that she’s guilty,” the DA said to a throng of reporters.
“We know without a shadow of a doubt that Senator Miller is not guilty of any of these crimes. I’ve never seen a larger amount of gross negligence in all of my years as an attorney and I will be suing the state of Washington for the disgraceful witch hunt they’ve put Senator Miller through for no other reason than to create a political game that she refused to play with them in,” Anna Miller’s legal representative all but shouted into the cameras.
He was great at selling hope and diverting attention from the actual issue that he, along with everyone else, knew how grotesquely illegal Anna had been dealing with money, politics, and personal safety. The platform was a good one for him to stand on and he put up the ultimate act of doing all he could to save his so-called innocent client, but it was all a façade.
Almost everyone in the courthouse, including both sides of the legal spectrum, had left the courthouse and were eating lunch when they received notification that the jurors had finished their deliberations and were ready to read the verdict. Both sides stopped conversations, quit eating, paid their bills, and all but ran to the courthouse.
They’d decided too fast. The prosecution team was worried. The Special Ops team was worried. Everyone watching on television was worried. There was a lot at stake if this woman took power again.
With everyone in their respective seats, the judge started the process.
The jury handed a note to the bailiff who handed it to the judge. She didn’t show a single expression as she looked at it, making the viewers even more tense.
“Foreperson, the jury has come to a decision?” Judge Scott asked. Was there an edge to her voice?
“Yes, your honor,” juror number three stated as she stood.
“Please read each charge and the verdict for it. Once you’re finished please seat yourself. Go ahead ma’am,” Judge Scott instructed.
“Your honor, the jury finds the defendant not guilty on all charges,” the foreperson said calmly then sat down.
There was an extended pause of shock from the judge who finally showed her disappointment in the verdict, the DA and his team, and the defendant’s table. The first sound was the faintest of laughs, and then an all-out cackle of laughter filled the courtroom. Anna Miller was almost leaned completely forward in her chair when Judge Scott hammered her gavel, demanding order in the court.
Judge Scott took a few moments to piece together her thoughts as she was shocked at the outcome as well as how quickly the jury had come back with their verdict. Was there something illegal going on? She damn well wanted to find out.
“Foreperson, to ensure I understand, the jury came to a unanimous decision on all counts?” Judge Scott asked.
“The jury did your honor.”
“Thank you, you may be seated,” Judge Scott stated.
“Ms. Miller, in all of my years of serving as a judge, and as an attorney before that, I cannot say that I’ve ever seen an outcome such as this. I refuse to speculate as to why the jurors found you not guilty, but they did and that’s all that matters in the eyes of the law. Effective immediately I release you from the custody of the court. There are some papers you’ll need to sign but you are free to go,” Judge Scott said as she banged the gavel down and then walked from the courtroom shaking her head in disbelief.
While she was a fair and respected judge among her peers and throughout the legal community, rarely showing any emotional outpouring, this was too much for her to contain, and the last thing anyone heard after the chamber doors were closed was, what in the hell was that?
The bailiff opened the courtroom doors, allowing the media and all others waiting for entry to pour inside. Due to the live streaming from the news networks most of the people were just now getting notifications on their phones of the not guilty verdict and to say it was chaos was an understatement. There was a mad rush for the reporters to get their cameras and phones into the face of Anna Miller and ask questions.
The defense team kept the onslaught of individuals behind the barrier and told Anna to try to keep it as brief as possible and to prepare to make a public announcement at a set time, giving her maximum control over the questions and flow of information and what she wanted to say. She agreed with the strategy and with little more than a smile and saying how grateful she was for the jurors, she disappeared from everyone’s sight out of the side doors.
Joseph Anderson and the team he’d assembled to stop the monsters from plaguing Seattle sat in stunned silence. They weren’t sure what in the hell had just happened, but they’d damn sure find out.