Never Tell

Chapter Fifty-Nine

The squeak of Judge Gregory’s courtroom door earned them an annoyed scowl from the bench. George took a seat next to Ramona in the first spectator row behind the defense’s counsel table. From the prosecution’s table, Max gave her a pleased look of surprise before returning his attention to the plea colloquy.

“Did you sign this agreement and initial each page to show you read it?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Are you satisfied with your attorney’s representation?”

“I am.”

“Mr. Donovan, on behalf of the people, please summarize the terms of the plea agreement.”

Even from her spot against the wall at the back of the courtroom, Ellie could see Ramona’s shoulders shake at the mention of the twenty-year sentence. Adrienne turned and gave her a sad smile. It will be okay, she mouthed. Ramona took her father’s hand. Casey placed a comforting arm around her shoulder.

“Ms.—okay, I see a couple of names here. Legal name is Adrienne Langston, née Adrienne Miller. Also an alias of Adrienne Cooper. Got all that? All right, Ms. Langston, are those the terms of the plea agreement as you understand them?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Do you understand that under the plea agreement you give up your right to appeal both your conviction and any sentence?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

The words of a plea colloquy are scripted and mechanical, but the phrases replaying in Ellie’s head were scrambled and chaotic. How many other vehicles? Adrienne will never, ever admit . . . You’ll never get a conviction.

“Do you understand that you have a right to be tried by a jury, and that by pleading guilty, you are giving up that right?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“And at such a trial, you would be presumed innocent. The government would have to prove your guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. You would have the right to be represented by a lawyer at that trial, and if necessary have the court appoint a lawyer. You would have the right to confront all witnesses and to call witnesses on your behalf. You would have the right to testify on your own behalf, or to remain silent. Do you understand all of these rights?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“And do you understand that by pleading guilty, you are giving up all those rights?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Leave it alone, and a few minutes from now, she’ll be a convicted murderer. She’ll have nothing.

“Mr. Donovan, please make a representation concerning the facts that the people would be prepared to prove at trial.”

Max’s voice felt far away as he methodically ran through the web of evidence against the defendant. “The defendant, rather than report to police the victim James Grisco’s attempt to blackmail her, took matters into her own hands. Taking advantage of a previous experience in which threatening comments had been posted to her website by another individual, she continued to post additional comments herself to create the impression that her stalker was escalating his conduct. She also sent herself a threatening package which had Mr. Grisco’s fingerprints on it, furthering that impression. Finally, she instructed Mr. Grisco to meet her at an address in East Hampton, where she shot him and then staged the scene to look like self-defense.”

What had George Langston said—Ellie had just enough evidence to mess with his daughter’s head but could never get a conviction? The evidence in her own father’s death had been just enough to suggest that Jerry Hatcher had committed suicide, but never enough to give Ellie the firm answers she so desperately needed. She had spent her entire life wondering whether her father had loved his family so little that he chose voluntarily to leave them.

Please don’t do that to my daughter. She’s the one innocent person.

“How do you now plead to the charge contained in Count One of the indictment, Murder in the Second Degree?”

“Guilty.”

“Very well. It is the finding of this court that the defendant is fully competent and capable of entering an informed plea, is aware of the nature of the charge and consequences of the plea, and that the plea of guilty is knowingly and voluntarily entered and supported by a sufficient basis in fact. The defendant is adjudged guilty of that offense. I understand there is also an agreement to proceed straight to sentencing, with no evidence from either party to challenge the joint sentencing recommendation.”

She thought about Casey, revisiting what he’d learned during his short-lived therapy with David Bolt: He’s all about separating yourself from your parents—being honest about who they are and how they treated you, but then letting go of it.

“Ms. Langston, it is the judgment of this court that you be committed to the custody of the New York State Department of Corrections, to be imprisoned for a term of twenty years.”

As the deputy took Adrienne back into custody, Ramona reached toward her from behind the courtroom railing. “I love you, Mom. Don’t forget. No matter what.”

And then Adrienne was gone.

When Ramona started to cry, George placed an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head before guiding her from the courtroom. Casey followed behind. Only Katherine Whitmire acknowledged Ellie’s presence with a polite nod.

Max was the last to make the trip down the center aisle of spectator seats. He looked behind him to make sure the coast was clear before giving her a peck on the cheek. “To what do I owe this surprise?”

“Just wanted to see it all go down.”

“Taking pleas is not exactly the most exciting part of my job. You got time for a cup of coffee? I missed you last night. Did you get any sleep? How late did you work?”

The work itself hadn’t taken long, but she never did manage to sleep.

She had been so certain about so much, from the very beginning of this case, but at each turn the people involved had surprised her. Julia had not taken her own life. Katherine Whitmire was leaving the husband who had defined her. Casey Heinz was finding family among people who had shunned him. Simple, rigid George Langston turned out to be remarkably complicated and empathetic.

What had that book editor said? Not everything is black-and-white, or even shades of gray. Things can be black and white—right and wrong—all at the same time. A week ago, Ellie would never have kept quiet through that plea colloquy.

“Yeah, coffee sounds good.” For the first time since they’d met, she let Max hold her hand in the courthouse as they walked to the elevator.

George had said not all questions needed to be answered, but maybe some questions didn’t need to be asked. Maybe she was still getting to know herself after all.