Phillip Margolin - Sleeping Beauty

Miles looked thoughtful. He took a moment to frame his answer.

“Society will be better off with Maxfield gone. I firmly believe that he cannot be rehabilitated. I’m also certain that he would kill again if he were released. But glad…I don’t think you can ever rejoice at the death of a human being.”

“So you think he is human?” the woman asked.

“Well, there’s certainly a good argument against that position, but I’ll leave that question to theologians and philosophers. I’m just happy I have my sister back.”

Several people raised their hands. While Miles called on one of them, Claire Rolvag looked toward the front of the store again. Standing at the end of the bookshelf that held the novels featuring classic detectives like Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot was a woman flanked by two men. As Claire turned back toward the speaker, she put her hand under her jacket and touched the butt of her Glock 40-caliber pistol.

Jerry Philips pulled up at the VALET PARKING sign, and a college kid in a white shirt and black slacks swapped a claim check for his car. Jerry took Ashley’s hand and they walked up the driveway to the mansion that Casey Van Meter had inherited from her father. Miles Van Meter’s publisher had decided to kick off the book tour for the special edition of Sleeping Beauty exactly one year after Joshua Maxfield had been sentenced to death, and Casey had opened up Glen Oaks for the publication party.

All of the lights in the house were on, and the couple could hear music and laughter coming from the backyard where a band had been set up near the pool. People were chatting on the front lawn, waiters were offering hors d’oeuvres on silver trays, and Jerry had to shoulder his way through the boisterous crowd in the entry hall to get to the bar. Ashley was checking out the fashion statements and the jewelry while she waited for her drink when someone shouted her name. She turned and was swept up by Delilah Wallace, who embraced her ex-star witness, then held her at arm’s length.

“You’re looking a lot better than you looked when I saw you last,” said Delilah, who had not seen Ashley since Joshua Maxfield’s sentencing.

“You’re looking good, too, Delilah.”

“Nah. I’m as fat as ever, but I sure am happy, because I came here hoping to find you and here you are. So tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“I’m engaged,” Ashley said as she showed the prosecutor her ring.

Delilah grabbed Ashley’s hand and inspected the stone. “That’s lovely. Do I know the lucky man?”

“Merlot, madam,” Jerry Philips said as he handed Ashley a glass of red wine. “Hi, Delilah.”

“I was just congratulating Ashley. When’s the wedding?”

“Probably not until Ashley graduates,” Jerry said. “We’re both too busy for a honeymoon right now.”

“I’m going to Portland State,” Ashley explained. “I’m premed and that really keeps me hopping.”

“Did you have any trouble getting back in the swing of school after being away so long?” Delilah asked.

“It was tough at first. I was pretty nervous.”

“She’s getting straight A’s,” Jerry said proudly.

Ashley blushed. “What have you been up to?”

“The same old, same old. Murder and mayhem.”

Ashley was about to tell Delilah that she’d been reading about the DA’s most recent trial when Casey Van Meter walked into the entry hall and spotted Ashley. The mistress of Glen Oaks looked radiant. Except for a barely noticeable limp, all evidence that she had been one of the living dead had been erased during the past year, as had the presence of Randy Coleman, whom she had finally divorced. Casey had not resumed her duties as dean, leaving in place the capable woman Henry had hired while she was in her coma. But she had become active in civic affairs and was much sought after to sit on boards and committees because of her wealth and intelligence.

Casey said hello to Delilah Wallace. Jerry saluted Casey with his glass. Ashley had seen less of her mother since she started college. Her heavy premed load left little time for socializing. When she did have free time, she spent it with Jerry. Jerry wasn’t sorry that Ashley had cut down on her visits to her mother. Her relationship with Casey had helped her get through the Maxfield trial and had given her a new family, but Jerry thought that there was something cold and artificial about Casey Van Meter. Of course, he’d never said anything about his feelings to Ashley.

“Miles has been asking for you,” Casey said. “He’s signing books in the living room. Come on. Let’s visit.”

Ashley promised to talk to Delilah later. Jerry followed as Casey took Ashley’s arm and led her through the crowd. Heads turned and people whispered when they saw the two women. Miles and the media had made them celebrities. Ashley had never welcomed her fame and she was glad when the attentions of the press waned after the trial. She had not been thrilled when the publicity blitz for the special edition of Sleeping Beauty had raised her public profile again.

Miles was sitting with his back to a massive stone fireplace at a table piled high with his books.

“I’ve brought you someone,” Casey said. Miles had his head down and was inscribing a book for a couple. He looked up and broke into a grin.

“Ashley,” he said as he rose. “I’m so glad you came. Hi Jerry.”

Miles turned to a short, gray-haired man who had been watching the signing.

“Jack, this is Ashley Spencer and her fiancé, Jerry Philips. This is Jack Dunlop, my editor.”

Dunlop smiled and held out his hand to Ashley. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. After editing Sleeping Beauty and spending another couple of months with the new edition I feel like I know you.”

Ashley forced a smile and prayed that Dunlop would not ask her what she thought of the book, which she had never read. Ashley wanted to place the horrors perpetrated by Joshua Maxfield behind her. Every time she saw a copy of Miles’s book she felt old wounds opening.

“I have something for you,” Miles said, as he picked up a copy of Sleeping Beauty that was not part of the stacks of books that stood in front of him. He opened the cover and showed Ashley what he had written on the title page.

For Ashley Spencer, A special person whose courage has been an inspiration to me.

Miles Van Meter

“Thank you, Miles,” Ashley said.

“I’m sincere about that.” He turned to Jack Dunlop. “This is the bravest lady I’ve ever met.”

The party was still going strong around midnight when Jerry and Ashley left. She’d enjoyed talking to Delilah, but the attention bestowed on her by the guests had made Ashley very uncomfortable, and the couple begged off as soon as they could do so politely. Jerry drove them back to the blue, two-story Victorian on the east side of the river that they’d been sharing since the end of the Maxfield trial. A high hedge enclosed a small backyard and a covered porch fronted the street. There was a television, CD and DVD players, and a state-of-the-art sound system in the living room, but most of the furnishings were antiques, in keeping with the age of the house.

When Jerry went into the kitchen for a glass of water, Ashley carried Miles’s gift into the living room and put it on the bookshelf. Jerry came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you ever going to read that book?” he asked.

She reached back and covered his hand. “Maybe someday when I’m certain it won’t hurt too much.”

Jerry leaned down and kissed her neck. “Let’s get to bed.”