Read Online Missing Pieces by Joy Fielding - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joy Fielding
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feel anxious about, I told myself. Just because you’re in the same room with an accused murderer
and
an old high school sweetheart, this was not something to get unnecessarily worked up about.
In the next second, it was as if someone had taken a match to my insides. I felt my inner organs shriveling and disappearing inside invisible flames. Sweat broke out across my forehead and upper lip. I pulled at the collar of my beige blouse, debated taking off my jacket. “It’s very hot in here,” I whispered to Jo Lynn.
“No, it’s not,” she said.
The clerk called the court to order and the judge directed the prosecutor to call his first witness. The temperature in the room returned to normal. Jo Lynn squirmed excitedly in her seat as a studious-looking young woman named Angela Riegert was sworn in.
“Look at her,” Jo Lynn muttered under her breath. “She’s dumpy and homely and just wishes she could get a man like Colin.”
As if he’d heard her, Colin Friendly slowly turned his head in my sister’s direction. A slight smile played at the corners of his lips.
Jo Lynn crossed, then uncrossed her legs. “We’re with you, Colin,” she whispered.
His smile widened, then he turned his attention back to the witness stand.
“I’m gonna give him my phone number.” Jo Lynn was already fishing inside her white straw purse for a piece of paper.
“Are you crazy?” I wanted to swat her across the back of her head, physically knock some sense into her.
Just like dear old Dad, I thought with disgust, marveling at the baseness of my instincts. I’d never hit anyone in my life, wasn’t about to start now, however tempting it might be. I glared at the back of Colin Friendly’s head. Obviously, he brought out the best in me.
Jo Lynn was already scribbling her name and number across a torn scrap of paper. “I’ll give it to him during a break.”
“If you do, I’ll leave. I swear, I’ll walk right out of here.”
“Then I won’t come with you to Mom’s,” she countered, bringing her fingers to her lips to quiet me.
She had me there. The only way I’d been able to persuade her to attend the afternoon’s meeting was to agree to accompany her to court, although she insisted we change the time of the meeting to four o’clock so that she didn’t have to “abandon Colin,” as she put it, before court let out. She didn’t know I’d already decided to tag along.
I still wasn’t a hundred percent sure what exactly I was doing in that courtroom. Did I really think I might learn anything that might help Donna Lokash? Or was I trying to watch out for my sister, to protect her from Colin Friendly, to protect her from herself? Or was it simple curiosity? I don’t know. I probably never will.
“State your name and address,” the court clerk instructed the witness, a short, slightly overweight young woman, who looked nervous and uncomfortable, her small eyes refusing to look at the defense table.
“Angela Riegert,” she said, barely audibly.
“You’ll have to speak up,” Judge Kellner said gently.
Angela Riegert cleared her throat, restated her name. It was only slightly louder the second time. The entire court-roomshifted forward, straining to hear. She gave her address as 1212 Olive Street in Lake Worth.
The prosecutor was on his feet, doing up the button of his dark blue jacket, the way you always see them doing on TV. “Miss Riegert, how old are you?” he began.
“Twenty,” she replied, looking as if she weren’t altogether sure.
“And how long had you known Wendy Sabatello?”
“We’d been best friends since the fourth grade.”
“Who’s Wendy Sabatello?” I asked.
“One of the victims,” Jo Lynn said, the words sliding out of the side of her mouth.
I stared into my lap, not sure I wanted to hear more.
“And can you tell me what happened on the night of March 17, 1995?”
“We went to a party at someone’s house. Her parents were away, and so there was this big
and
an old high school sweetheart, this was not something to get unnecessarily worked up about.
In the next second, it was as if someone had taken a match to my insides. I felt my inner organs shriveling and disappearing inside invisible flames. Sweat broke out across my forehead and upper lip. I pulled at the collar of my beige blouse, debated taking off my jacket. “It’s very hot in here,” I whispered to Jo Lynn.
“No, it’s not,” she said.
The clerk called the court to order and the judge directed the prosecutor to call his first witness. The temperature in the room returned to normal. Jo Lynn squirmed excitedly in her seat as a studious-looking young woman named Angela Riegert was sworn in.
“Look at her,” Jo Lynn muttered under her breath. “She’s dumpy and homely and just wishes she could get a man like Colin.”
As if he’d heard her, Colin Friendly slowly turned his head in my sister’s direction. A slight smile played at the corners of his lips.
Jo Lynn crossed, then uncrossed her legs. “We’re with you, Colin,” she whispered.
His smile widened, then he turned his attention back to the witness stand.
“I’m gonna give him my phone number.” Jo Lynn was already fishing inside her white straw purse for a piece of paper.
“Are you crazy?” I wanted to swat her across the back of her head, physically knock some sense into her.
Just like dear old Dad, I thought with disgust, marveling at the baseness of my instincts. I’d never hit anyone in my life, wasn’t about to start now, however tempting it might be. I glared at the back of Colin Friendly’s head. Obviously, he brought out the best in me.
Jo Lynn was already scribbling her name and number across a torn scrap of paper. “I’ll give it to him during a break.”
“If you do, I’ll leave. I swear, I’ll walk right out of here.”
“Then I won’t come with you to Mom’s,” she countered, bringing her fingers to her lips to quiet me.
She had me there. The only way I’d been able to persuade her to attend the afternoon’s meeting was to agree to accompany her to court, although she insisted we change the time of the meeting to four o’clock so that she didn’t have to “abandon Colin,” as she put it, before court let out. She didn’t know I’d already decided to tag along.
I still wasn’t a hundred percent sure what exactly I was doing in that courtroom. Did I really think I might learn anything that might help Donna Lokash? Or was I trying to watch out for my sister, to protect her from Colin Friendly, to protect her from herself? Or was it simple curiosity? I don’t know. I probably never will.
“State your name and address,” the court clerk instructed the witness, a short, slightly overweight young woman, who looked nervous and uncomfortable, her small eyes refusing to look at the defense table.
“Angela Riegert,” she said, barely audibly.
“You’ll have to speak up,” Judge Kellner said gently.
Angela Riegert cleared her throat, restated her name. It was only slightly louder the second time. The entire court-roomshifted forward, straining to hear. She gave her address as 1212 Olive Street in Lake Worth.
The prosecutor was on his feet, doing up the button of his dark blue jacket, the way you always see them doing on TV. “Miss Riegert, how old are you?” he began.
“Twenty,” she replied, looking as if she weren’t altogether sure.
“And how long had you known Wendy Sabatello?”
“We’d been best friends since the fourth grade.”
“Who’s Wendy Sabatello?” I asked.
“One of the victims,” Jo Lynn said, the words sliding out of the side of her mouth.
I stared into my lap, not sure I wanted to hear more.
“And can you tell me what happened on the night of March 17, 1995?”
“We went to a party at someone’s house. Her parents were away, and so there was this big
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