Chapter 3 - The Reconstruction of the Crime
By 9:00 a.m., the freezing rain had turned to a gray, heavy sleet that coated the streets of Westbridge in a dangerous layer of slush. But the weather didn't stop the caravan of black SUVs that pulled up outside the residence at 412 Maple Street.
I stood on the sidewalk, watching as five state troopers walked up the steps, their boots crunching against the ice. Beside me stood Daniel and Marcus, our faces masked by the collars of our coats.
The front door opened after the third knock, and Michael stood there, still wearing the same shirt from the police station, his face drawn and pale. He looked out at the state police, then saw me standing behind them, and his jaw dropped.
"Evelyn... what is this?" he shouted over the wind. "We’re family. You’re destroying my life over a family misunderstanding! Dana is sick! She’s pregnant, Evelyn! You can't do this to her!"
The word pregnant hung in the cold air for a fraction of a second, a desperate shield Michael was trying to throw up to stop the momentum of justice.
"She wasn't too sick to swing a thirty-four-ounce Louisville Slugger into our mother’s ribs, Michael," I said, my voice carrying clearly across the snow-covered lawn.
"Michael Hale," the lead trooper announced, pulling a document from his vest. "You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit elder abuse, felony accessory to aggravated battery, and obstruction of justice. Step off the porch with your hands behind your head."
Dana appeared in the doorway behind him, her face twisted into a snarl of pure, defensive rage. She was holding a phone, screaming into it, likely trying to reach her uncle Captain Ross—unaware that Ross was currently sitting in an interrogation room in Springfield being questioned by the federal integrity unit.
"You can't touch us!" Dana screamed, her voice cracking. "This is our house! This is my property! Get these state thugs off my lawn!"
"It’s not your house, Dana," Daniel spoke up, stepping forward with the trust document held high. "The Westbridge Family Trust has officially executed a non-compliance eviction notice due to material waste and criminal activity on the premises. The locks are being changed today. You have thirty minutes to pack a single suitcase of personal items before the property is sealed by court order."
Dana looked at Michael, waiting for him to do something, to use the masculine authority he had always boasted about. But Michael was already on his knees on the freezing concrete of the porch, his hands cuffed behind his back, his face pressed against the icy wood as the trooper searched his pockets.
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He looked up at me, his eyes wide with a pathetic, childlike terror. "Evelyn, please... tell them. Tell them I didn't know she was going to hit her that hard. I just wanted the papers signed. I didn't want this."
"That's the difference between us, Michael," I said, looking down at him without a single drop of the familial affection I had carried for thirty years. "You thought about the papers. I thought about Mom."
