“That would be helpful, yes.”
“I am still hoping for a last-minute reprieve, of course. But it doesn’t look very hopeful.”
“Well, I for one hope you can pull a rabbit out of the hat.”
“As do I. I oppose the death penalty on principle. I’ll send you those details. Feel free to call me with any questions you may have.”
Celia ended the call and sat back in her chair. Tasha wanted to see her on the day of the execution. She wondered who else was on the list. There was no family to visit, and Natasha didn’t have many friends. She couldn’t help but wonder if William was on that list. But then, he had said he didn’t think he could bear to watch the execution. He might visit her, however, to be supportive. It would be tasteless to ask him, Celia thought. Still, she was absolutely curious.
The email notification pinged on Celia’s laptop, and she opened the message. It was from Tasha’s attorney. He reiterated the actress’s invitation and attached what Celia assumed were the standard guidelines for visitors. Celia opened the document and began to read.
Celia would need to arrive around 1:00. She would be allowed to visit with Natasha briefly, under supervision, and with a partition. She couldn’t bring any items with her or receive any items from the actress. The visiting window was narrow. Natasha would have her last meal at 4:00 pm. There was information regarding what the prisoner would wear, the preparation and visit from the Warden and a chaplain. The chaplain could be refused, and Celia suspected Natasha would do that. Natasha would be allowed a shower and a different garment, and then she would be prepped for the injection.
One of Celia’s early pieces for The Journal was about the death penalty, so she knew what a lethal injection would entail. Still, reading about it this time was different. This time Celia would be observing, and the recipient would be someone she knew, someone she had come to respect in her own way. The journalist wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone else, but she had come to regard Natasha as a friend.
Pushing the execution out of her mind, Celia spent the rest of the day reviewing pitches for stories, editing some of her own work, and looking through a stack of resumes. She needed to hire a couple more staff members. By the time she finished, it was after 6:00, and she was starving. Keith wanted her to call every time she left work, which Celia thought was a bit much, but she swiped his number as she walked toward the elevator.
“Celia, hold up a minute,” William called out to her as she pressed the down button. He caught up with her and pressed the button again. “Heading home for the day?”
“I am,” Celia replied. “It’s been a long one.”
“Have you had a chance to look through any resumes?”
“I have. I’ve narrowed the huge stack to a smaller stack. There are about a dozen who look pretty promising.”
“Good. Let me know if you need anything. I want us to be ready for what’s next.”
“Good thinking.”
“How are the interviews going?”
“I’ve finished the interviews, and I’ve been crafting the article. It’s strange, and a bit sad.”
“Yes, it is,” William sighed. “She committed terrible crimes, but she is not a terrible person. I confess I’m feeling some grief. I’ve had friends die, but not this way.”
“Yes, it’s not the same as cancer or an accident. She will die at a prescribed time and place at the hands of the state.”
“You sound troubled by that concept.”
“You know, I never really had much problem with the death penalty. You take lives, you forfeit your own. But knowing the story behind the crimes, and knowing that sometimes murder seems like a real answer, it isn’t as cut and dried.”
“I’m not sure I agree that murder is the answer, but I do understand why Natasha felt so betrayed, especially by her father.”
“You knew about that?”
“I helped her find out the truth about her mother. She was controlled, of course, but when she was arrested for her father’s murder, I knew immediately what had pushed her over that edge.”
Celia didn’t respond, but she did wonder exactly how much William knew about the actress’s life. She was impressed that he never exploited that relationship as a member of the press and CEO of a media organization. She respected his loyalty to a friend. The elevator opened then, and she and William said goodbye.
Celia had been home for less than five minutes when someone knocked on her door. She looked through the peephole and saw Lucille holding a kitten in one hand and a box in the other. Oh great, another cat, Celia thought, but she put on a friendly smile and opened the door.
“Hello, dear,” Lucille said. “I was waiting for you to get home. You have a package, and they put it on my doorstep by mistake. I thought it might be important.”
“Thank you,” Celia replied, taking the package. “Who is your new friend?”
“Oh, this is Tom. My friends at bingo gave him to me.” She nuzzled the kitten and sighed. “He’ll never replace Jerry, of course, but he can keep me company.”
“That’s nice. I’m glad you have a new companion.”
Lucille stood outside the doorway, waiting. Celia could tell she wanted to know what was in the package, but Celia wasn’t going to open it in front of her. There was a fine line between neighborly and nosy.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to your evening,” Lucille said, sounding a little disappointed. “You have a nice night.”
Celia closed the door and took the package into the kitchen. She hadn’t ordered anything; however, she did occasionally get promotional items. Her address was there, but the return wasn’t familiar, and the postmark looked odd. The box was small and light. Taking a
