3 MONTHS LATER…
The silence of the courtroom was broken as the Judge brought down his Gavel hard. He was ready to give his judgement.
John had been the prosecution’s leading witness for the murder of detective O’connor. After the grueling arguments , motions and counter motion, the defense and prosecution counsels had just finished their closing remarks.
The thoughts of jail time ran through her head like a high-speed train.
“What if I am given the death penalty”, Varela thought aloud. Her palms were wet, her forehead damp, her skin cold because the judge was to her as Zeus on Olympus; ready to decide the fate of mere mortals.
ORDER The gavel hit down hard again on the great Oak wood Table. The judge shifted forward on his chair, he adjusted his Gold framed antique spectacles.
“Having gone through the testimony of the witnesses, the evidence brought forward and the proving of the prayer of this county’s attorney beyond REASONABLE DOUBT “, he shifted again in his seat.
“I hereby find the defendant Varela Kravecki guilty for the second degree murder of Detective Shawn O’connor”.
John had an Epiphany.
He saw a woman walking in the courtroom – the same woman that has been haunting his dreams. Who was she?
Memory bouts .
Flashes of his past . No doubt .
A past he could hardly remember .
The doctor had told him he would be able to connect the dots soon .. But he has been like this for months .
And here she was again in the courtroom like a wisp of smoke.
“And sentence her to”, the Judge’s voice boomed dragging him back to full consciousness .
“75 years in a Federal penitentiary with possibility of parole after 25 years”.
John felt relief . O’connor had been his partner for a year. They shared a mutual respect for each other but that was all. They did not get personal. But he really liked the guy and he enjoyed working with the man .
The Court rose .
His past was still a mystery to him, he could not remember events beyond the last year after he woke up in the private ward of the Los-Angeles medical center. It was like some part of his brain’s jigsaw puzzle had been wiped off completely .
And, who the hell was the goddess that kept appearing in his mind’s eye ?
Meanwhile, 33,000ft over the pacific…
Anabel had had enough. She was going to make the most of her life and stop crying her eyes out for a man that wasn’t coming back.
So here she was on delta airlines flight 682B non-stop from St-lucia to Los-Angeles seated next to a man that looked like he swallowed a pie whole and it got stuck in his throat . His ID-card read H. Kravecki and it looked like he was on a very important business trip .
Dr Goldmeir had called her the other day.
“Hello Anabel my anniberry”, he still had the thick Jewish accent.
“Come over to the studio next week and I might have a starring role for you in my upcoming movie “.
She had said an emphatic NO that day.
But here she was on a plane heading to the City of Angels determined to move on with her life and forget about John Hardison.