It's Nothing Personal (16 page)

Jack pulled a chair out for Hillary.
 
The scrape of the wooden legs across the
floor resonated throughout the courtroom.
 
Hillary took her seat and spotted her parents in the row directly behind
her.
 
Hillary’s mother wore a heavy
wool dress that made her look plain and frail.
 
Her father sat with his shoulders
hunched over as if he were trying to dissolve into the wooden pew.
 
The three made eye contact, and Hillary
smiled, ever so slightly.
 

Hillary was about to turn back around when
she noticed Dr. Jenna Reiner seated in the same row as her parents.
 
Jenna’s eyes bore into Hillary’s,
holding her captive.
 
Silently,
Jenna mouthed the words she had come to say.
 
Her lips moved with such precision, the
words would not have been any clearer had she shouted them.
 
“Fuck you!”
 
The expression of immense grief on Jenna’s
face was in stark contrast to her expletive.
 
For a brief moment, Hillary started to
fully comprehend the enormity of the damage she had caused.

The court bailiff entered.
 
“All rise.
 
The Honorable Judge Richard Redmond has
entered the courtroom.”
 

A tall, bald man with a wiry frame and
piercing eyes strode into the courtroom.
 
Judge Redmond nodded curtly at the bailiff and took his seat at the
bench.
 
From his perch, the judge scanned
the courtroom.
 
For a fraction of a
second, every spectator experienced the scrutiny of the judge.
 
Finally, Judge Redmond turned his
attention on Hillary, much like an eagle would do before seizing its prey.
 
Hillary tried to look at him, but could
not.
 
She was weak and defenseless under
his relentless gaze.

Judge Redmond pounded his gavel and spoke
with authority.
 
“I understand that
we are here today to discuss a plea agreement.
 
Is that correct?”

Jack and the federal prosecutor stood to
address the judge.
 
Nearly in unison,
they replied, “Yes, Your Honor.”

The judge again focused on Hillary.
 
Instinctively, she stood, grasping the
table for support.
 

“Ms. Martin,” said the judge, “before you
enter into this plea agreement, I need to be certain that your attorney has
fully explained the agreement to you, including its repercussions and
requirements, in a language that you understand.
 
Is this correct?”

The world crashed down upon Hillary.
 
No longer was she in control,
manipulating the situation, and calling the shots.
 
Unfamiliar with vulnerability, Hillary’s
legs quivered.
 
She tried to speak,
but there was no air in her lungs.
 
In barely more than a whisper, Hillary said, “Yes, Your Honor.
 
I understand it completely.”

The judge cleared his throat, never for a
second taking his eyes off of Hillary Martin.
 
“Ms. Martin, how do you wish to plea?”

“Guilty, Your Honor,” she replied, this time
slightly louder.

“Do you enter this plea on your own free
will and not under any coercion or external influence?”

“Yes, sir.”

The judge smacked his gavel once.
 
The thud echoed throughout the crowded
courtroom, like a gun being fired.
 

“The court rejects your guilty plea.”

Hillary and Jack involuntarily gasped.
 
She looked at Jack with fear and
desperation.
 
The courtroom was
silent for a moment and then erupted into a stream of whispers and bodies
shuffling.

Frowning at the crowd, Judge Redmond struck
the gavel more forcefully.
 
Silence
immediately ensued.

Judge Redmond’s words to Hillary were
harsh.
 
“The heinous nature of your
crimes and your complete disregard for the consequences of your actions is
unprecedented and appalling.
 
The
victims of your crime put their trust and their lives in the hands of the
hospital staff, yourself included.
 
You violated that sacred trust.
 
These patients were helpless to defend themselves.
 
While they were most susceptible, your
ruthless actions inflicted a lifelong and possibly lethal disease on these
helpless people.

“The terms of the length of sentence,
according to the plea agreement, do not adequately take into account the views
of the victims.
 
Accepting this plea
agreement would inordinately restrain my discretion in sentencing.
 

“You may still continue with a guilty plea,
but I will determine the length of your sentence.
 
You would still be required to abide by
the terms of the original plea agreement.
 
I must warn you, if you choose to proceed with a guilty plea, the
sentence I impose upon you will be much stiffer than the twenty years
originally dictated by this agreement.
 
Or, you may choose to revoke your guilty plea and proceed to trial next
week, as scheduled.”

Jack respectfully asked, “Your Honor, may I
request a recess to consult with my client?”

“Court will take a fifteen minute
recess.”
 
Judge Redmond crushed his
gavel onto the sound block.
 
The
deafening crack shot through the courtroom.
 
Every spectator sat motionless as the
judge rose and returned to his chambers.

Once the judge retreated, the courtroom was
on fire with conversation.
 

Jack and Hillary huddled at the defense
table, attempting to block out the sound behind them.
 
Hillary whispered menacingly, “What the
fuck is this?
 
You never warned me that
anything like this would happen.”
 
Her face was bright red, her fists clenched.

Jack responded calmly, “I never expected
anything like this.
 
This judge is
tough.
 
The problem is, if we
proceed to trial, Judge Redmond will preside.
 
I’ve never seen a plea deal rejected
before, but Judge Redmond is well within his rights to do so.”

Hillary glanced over her left shoulder at
her parents.
 
Janice Martin was
crying softly.
 
Her head was buried
into Harold Martin’s shoulder.

Then, Hillary peeked in the direction of
Jenna Reiner.
 
Jenna glowered at
Hillary, shaking her head in unabated disgust.

For one of the few instances in her life,
Hillary thought of the people she loved, instead of herself.
 
A trial would cost her parents
greatly.
 
Not only in attorney’s
fees, but in their standing within the community and their ability to carry on
normal lives.
 
Trial or not, she
would never see her daughter again, of that she was sure.
 
Her life was essentially over.
 
The only thing a trial would accomplish
would be to cause further grief, embarrassment, and destruction to the few
people in this world that still cared about her.
 
Her only chance to minimize their pain
would be to end this, now.
 
That was
all Hillary had to give them.

Hillary turned back around and said to Jack,
“I’m pretty much fucked either way.
 
Or am I missing something?”

Jack was as serious as Hillary had ever seen
him.
  
“No, Hillary, you’re not
missing anything.”

Her words were as cold as ice.
 
“Keep the plea.”

The fifteen-minute recess was over, and
Judge Redmond re-entered the courtroom.
 

With cold, critical words, the judge
addressed Hillary, “Ms. Martin, you’ve had the opportunity to discuss matters
with your counsel.
 
Have you reached
a decision on how you would like to proceed?”

Hillary rose to her feet.
 
“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Very well.
 
Do you wish to revoke your plea of
guilty and proceed to trial, or do you want to persist with your plea, knowing
that the terms of sentencing will be left to my discretion?”

Hillary stood tall.
 
“I would like to continue with my guilty
plea.
 
I do not wish to proceed to
trial.”

Unsympathetically, Judge Redmond said, “The
court accepts your guilty plea.
 
You
are hereby sentenced to fifty years in a federal penitentiary, without the
possibility for parole.
 
Court is
hereby adjourned.”
 

The judge delivered a final blow of the
gavel.
 
Without another word, he
stood and left the courtroom.

Attempting to ease the blinding pain in her
heart, Hillary rubbed her chest.
 
She gulped for air.
 
Janice
Martin instinctively lunged forward over the wooden railing and held her
daughter.
 
Neither mother nor
daughter had time to say anything before an officer of the court moved in and
separated them.
 
Harold Martin
pulled his wife down to the bench where they had been seated during the
proceedings.
 
He wrapped his arms
around her and used all his weight as an anchor to separate Janice from her
daughter.

Behind Hillary, the victims and their
families held each other and cried.

Hillary was quickly handcuffed and led out
of a back door of the courtroom.
 
Jack stood motionless, alone at the defense table.

CHAPTER 23

Jenna knew attending the court proceedings
was a risky endeavor, but she could not resist the opportunity to express her
hatred toward Hillary Martin.
 
Certain that Tom and her attorneys would have forbidden her to come,
Jenna chose not to tell any of them of her intentions.

As soon as Judge Redmond concluded the
proceedings, Jenna bolted from the courtroom.
 
With her goal accomplished, she was
anxious to leave before anyone recognized her.
 

Discreetly, Jenna crossed the lobby of the
courthouse.
 
At the main door, she
heard the click of stiletto heels striking the marble floor.
 
A tall, slender, blonde woman in a
tailored business suit shoved her way in front of Jenna and blasted through the
door, leaving it to slam shut in Jenna’s path.
  

“Nice,” Jenna uttered sarcastically,
flinging the door back open.
 
The
obnoxious woman never looked back.

Jenna was about to walk away when she heard
someone shout, “Ms. Anders!
 
Allison
Anders!
 
Can we get your comment on
Hillary Martin’s sentence?”

On the top steps of the courthouse, Jenna
froze, her eyes and mouth open wide in disbelief.
 
A dozen steps below her, Jenna watched a
petite, brunette reporter chase after the blonde stranger.
 
She recognized the newscaster
immediately.
 
It was Tamara Knight,
the lead anchor for Channel 8 News.
 
A brawny cameraman struggled to keep pace with her.
 

At the mention of her name, the attorney
stopped and turned in the direction of the news crew.
 
Curling her lips into a smile, she
purred, “Of course.”
 
The cameraman
shined the spotlight on Allison, and she quickly smoothed her hair.
 
Under the glow, Allison’s green eyes were
captivating, and her perfectly coiffed bob glistened.
 
She was strikingly beautiful.
 
Standing at the edge of a small crowd of
onlookers, Jenna noticed that Allison Anders’ makeup was even more perfect than
that of the pretty journalist.

The cameraman counted down with his
fingers.
 
“We’re live in three, two,
one.”

Gazing into the lens of the camera, the
newsperson spoke into her microphone.
 
“This is Tamara Knight from Channel 8 News.
 
I’m on the steps of the Federal District
Courthouse, speaking with attorney Allison Anders.
 
Ms. Anders represents many of the
patients whose lives have been tragically devastated by the actions of former
St. Augustine Hospital scrub technician, Hillary Martin.
 
Ms. Anders, what do you think of the
verdict that was handed down today?”

Allison’s eyes narrowed and her smile
receded.
 
In a thick, New York
accent, she replied, “My clients are not at all satisfied by today’s
ruling.
 
The fact that Hillary
Martin was sentenced to fifty years in prison won’t keep this same sort of
thing from happening again.
 
The
hospital needs to own up to its part.
 
St. Augustine needs to assume responsibility for both creating and
allowing an environment to exist where this tragedy could have occurred in the
first place.
 
Furthermore, the
anesthesiologists who took care of these patients also need to share in the
blame.
 
If it hadn’t been for their
careless handling of narcotics, Hillary Martin would have never had the
opportunity to commit her crimes.
 
My clients demand that justice be served.”