“Did your husband obey the order from Saturday?”
Shutting her eyes for a moment and breathing deeply, she nodded her head. “His ‘friend’, Samantha, called Saturday night wanting to know what was going on. They work together.” She rolled her eyes. “He stayed with her the rest of the weekend and she was bringing him today. They may already be here.”
Approvingly shaking her head, Elizabeth continued, “Okay, good. Once his case is called, we will go in front of the judge, he will go over the charges, explain both of your rights, and Brandon will enter his plea. Before we go up there, you need to decide if you want to continue the protection order. The order is only temporary and ends once the case is over. If you decide that you want something more concrete, we will need to go over to Common Pleas Court and request a Civil Protection Order. That order can last for five years. Have you given any thought to - ”
Pam cut her off and handed Elizabeth the papers she had been gripping. “I found this yesterday as I was gathering some things for his co-worker to take to her house for him.”
Taking the papers from her, Elizabeth’s eyes grew as she read the first page, “Psychological Evaluation of Brandon J. DeFranco, by Warren D. Frasier, MD.” She looked up at Pam and sighed, “Wow.”
Looking over her shoulder and trying not to attract any attention to their conversation, her voice trembled as she whispered, “I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone!”
“Have you read through this?”
“I did... Elizabeth, that is not the man I married.” A tear fell down her cheek as she turned her sad brown eyes to the large glass windows facing the busy street outside.
Frustrated but eager to help, Elizabeth reached out and gently touched Pam’s forearm, “Hey, everything’s going to be okay. One step at a time. I’ll be right here through this entire process.” She reached in her bag and grabbed a tissue, handing it to the woman. “I have to get in the courtroom now. When the Judge calls his name, come up to the bench and stand beside me. You don’t have to say a word to him. I’ll be there and the bailiff will be there, okay? I have a few other cases as well, but I promise I will take a look at this first chance I get,” she said, stuffing the evaluation in her file folder.
“Thank you, Elizabeth.”
Martinez sat at his desk typing up a request to Investigator McMurphy at Mansfield Prison. The parole hearing was scheduled for Thursday afternoon and it was imperative the request be sent in as soon as possible. Detective Shawn Johnson looked up over the partition at Martinez. “Whatcha working on?”
Leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his neck he replied, “Well, Liz decided to go to the parole hearing, so I’m trying to get this request done to send in to Investigator McMurphy down at Mansfield. He’s going to set it all up for me to escort her.”
Shawn looked impressed, “Wow, how did you talk her into that?”
Placing his fingers back on the keyboard after stretching out his bulging triceps, he winked, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I would! You know I live vicariously through you, man.” He rolled his eyes as he shook his head and grinned before picking up the receiver of his phone to make a call. After dialing a number and getting a busy signal, he hung up. Rubbing the day old, salt and pepper scruff on his chin, he asked, “So she’s really gonna give a statement, huh?”
Biting his bottom lip and releasing it, he replied, “She is.” He tilted his head to the side, “You know, if it helps in the least to keep that asshole behind bars for another two years, it will be worth it.” He paused for a moment. “You worked that case. I would think you of all people would be vying against his release.”
“Sure, I worked on the case, but it was more of a behind the scenes. I didn’t actually work with Strong. I doubt we even crossed paths through the duration. I just remember a lot and we talked about it amongst ourselves quite a bit; it was a huge case that we were all involved in to some extent.” He laughed and scrubbed through his cropped hair, “Caused a lot of these premature gray hairs!”
Nodding, as if he understood, Martinez said, “I hear ya, man.”
They could hear Chief John Holden’s footsteps coming down the hall. Johnson looked towards the door and Martinez turned in his chair to face Holden looming in the doorway, nearly taking up the entire space. Still studying the papers in his hand, he cleared his throat, “Morning, you guys have a good weekend?”
“I wish I could say mine was as good as Martinez,” belted Shawn. He winked when Martinez glanced his way.
“Well, you’re about to have a better morning than he is, so call it even.” Handing Martinez the paper, his grey eyes peered at him through the top of his black-framed glasses. “Just got our warrant on the suspect from Friday’s shooting. I need you to get over there ASAP. Take Lucas and Duval with you.”
“Nice! Can I just finish this up before I go?” he asked pointing to his computer screen.
“Sorry, you have time to grab your keys on this one Martinez. Boys are waiting for you downstairs. I’m afraid your entire day is going to be tied up. I don’t want this served until the suspect is seen going in or coming out of the residence. This is too sensitive.”
Frustrated, Martinez grabbed his keys and stood from his chair. “Hey Johnson? I really need you to do something for me.”
“I got your six...”
He started out the door. “Email this request over to McMurphy for me? It has to get to him today.”
Shawn lifted
