she thought for an instant about the Lord. He could have saved them, but he didn’t. Wasn’t he at fault? Just a little?
Jenny began weeping harder. “What are we going to do, Mom?” She looked so vulnerable it tore at Hannah’s heart, and her hatred toward the other driver grew until she thought it would choke her. “We’re going to go home and get you better. Then we’re going to make sure the man who did this is punished.”
“They’re in heaven, right, Mom?” Fresh tears trickled down Jenny’s cheeks.
“Yes, honey, they’re in heaven. Together.”
Jenny nodded and swiped slowly at her tears. She was sobbing so hard it was difficult to understand her. “I want Daddy …”
Hannah held her for twenty minutes, allowing her to cry and grieve the way she, herself, had not yet done. Finally Jenny grew quiet, and after several minutes she leaned her head back and studied Hannah’s eyes.
“I’m … I’m glad Alicia isn’t alone.”
“Oh, Jenny …”
The girl lay back down and buried her head in her pillow. She stayed like that, sobbing quietly, while her mother rubbed her back until she finally drifted off to sleep.
Leaning back in the chair and pulling the bedside telephone over, Hannah clenched her teeth. She glanced at the business card in her hand, then dialed Sgt. John Miller and introduced herself.
“There’s something I need to know about the accident.” She kept her voice quiet; the last thing she wanted to do was disturb Jenny.
“I have the report right here,” Sgt. Miller said. “Go ahead.”
“The man who killed my family, was he drunk?”
There was a pause, then, “We think so. He was arrested onsuspicion of drunk driving. The lab tests aren’t back yet, but he did fail a field sobriety test.”
Hannah felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. With one careless decision that man had ruined her life. She steadied herself and sucked in a steadying breath.
“Where is he now?” She knew the question was angry, but she didn’t care.
“He had only minor injuries. He was booked at the station that evening and released on a bail bond. When the results of the sobriety test are in, he’ll be formally charged, and then he’ll have to enter a plea—guilty or not guilty.”
She had one more question. “Was it his first time? Drunk driving I mean?”
“No, ma’am.” Sgt. Miller sighed. “His sixth.”
The room was suddenly spinning, and Hannah gripped the arm of her chair for support. She reached for the only solid thing she could grab onto—her anger.
“That man had been arrested five other times for drunk driving, and he was still on the road? Still drinking and driving? That’s insane!”
“I know, Mrs. Ryan. I’m sorry … I agree. Maybe this time they’ll put him away.”
“You mean there’s a chance they won’t? Listen, Sergeant. I know none of this is your fault, but I will not sit back and watch the courts let this killer back on the streets. I’ll fight him and the laws and the entire legal system if it costs every cent I have. Even if it kills me.”
There was a pause. “The process will be long and drawn out.” Sgt. Miller sounded frustrated. “But there are a few things you can do. You’ve heard of Mothers Against Drunk Drivers?”
“Yes.” Hannah was trembling with rage. How could this be happening to her? She didn’t want to think about Mothers Against Drunk Drivers. She was supposed to be having breakfast with her church friends, making plans for the school year.
She was supposed to have two, beautiful, healthy daughtersand a husband who loved her.
Sgt. Miller continued. “There’s a woman at the West Valley office, Carol Cummins; she’s a victim advocate. Why don’t you give her a call and see how you can help? Might make a difference when it comes to a possible trial down the road.”
“Who is he?
“What?”
“The killer. What’s his name?”
“Brian Wesley. He’s twenty-eight, married, has a
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