After lunch, Zac returned to the stand. He was a bit more at ease, but Mark wasn't pleased with his attitude as they returned to the courtroom. They were about to get into the tough stuff--evidence about the actual murder--and Zac didn't seem as mentally prepared as he should have been.
"Mr. Hanson, have you ever met this man before?" asked the prosecuting laywer, holding a photo of Jeffrey Billet, who was no longer in the courtroom.
"No."
"Really?"
"No, I've never seen him before," Zac said.
"So you never bought a gun from him?"
"No."
"And you never looked at his guns?"
"No."
"You've never visited his pawn shop in the Bronx?"
"No. I've never even been to the Bronx," Zac replied.
"So why then do we have security footage and photos of you in the shop? Why do we see you buying the murder weapon, and why do we have your prints on the gun?"
"I have no idea. That could be anybody in the store. The footage and the photos were blurry. It could be somebody who looks like me or posing to be me."
"Really?" the lawyer asked, only slightly intrigued.
"Yes! There are people out there who look like me. I know, we hire them as decoys if we're in a crowded situation. There's so many of them, it could be easy to contact one and put him in that situation."
"So you believe this man wasn't you, but a decoy?"
"Yes."
"If he is, he sure did his homework. He looks a lot like you!"
"He's kind of supposed to," Zac said.
"That doesn't explain why your prints are on the gun, though."
"That I have no idea about. I have never handled a real gun in my entire life."
"But your prints are on the gun."
"I already said I don't know how that could be possible." The lawyer began to pace again. Zac hated when he did that.
"All right. So, there's a gun with your prints on it that contains bullets just like the one found in Ginger Stevens, marks identifying that it came from that gun, the same gun with your prints and just your prints on it. There was not a soul in sight when you and Ginger were in the park the night she died, but you said you heard rustling in the bushes, but bushes rustle all the time for all kinds of reasons. We have footage of you buying the gun and then later, at the same shop, buying the bullets that were found in your wife. It sounds like a pretty good story, Mr. Hanson."
"But none of it is true."
"So you didn't kill your wife?"
"Of course not! Why would I do something like that?"
"You tell us, Mr. Hanson. Better yet, try to convince me why you didn't kill your wife. We're not here to say you did, we already have a good story stating you did. Tell us you didn't."
"I love my wife--"
"And I love my dog, but it won't stop me from killing it if it bites someone in my family," the lawyer added. Zac chose to ignore this comment.
"I love my wife more than you could imagine, sir. We've had our differences, but I've never laid a hand on her, ever. I'm not that kind of person and I never will be. I can tell you everything wrong with your story but I'm sorry that I can't provide a better reason for not killing her. She meant--means--everything to me."
"And maybe that's why you killed her."
"What? How--?"
"You found out about her kiss with Taylor and, irrational, you killed her."
"I never knew about the kiss, not before today. That's crazy."
"Maybe so," the lawyer said. "You were committed to a hospital briefly in late 1998. Why?" Zac paused; he never expected this to be mentioned.
"I had a panic attack."
"And why did you have one?"
"I was thirteen and living a life people two and three times my age couldn't handle. It got to be too much. I don't see how this is relevant."
"Have you had a panic attack since then?"
"Once in a while, yes. Nothing like the first one and none recently," Zac replied, still confused. He didn't see any reason for this.
"What happens to a person when they're having a panic attack?" the lawyer asked.
"Well, to me, it felt like I wasn't getting enough air. My chest hurt and I honestly felt like I was going to die. I couldn't calm down for at least ten minutes."
"And can you remember what you're doing while you have this panic attack?"
"No, not really."
"All right. So say you bought this gun, you had it with you in the park. What if in some fit you went into a panic attack and didn't know what you've done?"
"That's ridiculous. Every time I've had a panic attack I've been curled into a ball in the corner of a room. I'm not capable of movement."
"Well you said you don't know what you're doing while you have a panic attack."
"I don't know exactly what I'm doing, meaning I don't know what I'm saying. I don't move. I don't kill people."
"But how do you know?"
"Because I've had enough panic attacks to know what happens during them. I know when I have one, and I didn't have one the night my wife was killed."
"By you," the lawyer quipped.
"Objection!" Mark said, standing.
"Withdrawn," the lawyer said, waving his hand to dismiss his offcolor comment. "Mr. Hanson, if you didn't do it, who do you think killed your wife?"
"I have no idea. I don't know who would want to do something like that."
"She didn't have any enemies, anybody who didn't like her?"
"No, not that I know of," Zac replied. "Everybody liked her."
"Everybody?"
"Pretty much."
And then the prosecution wrapped up. Zac didn't quite understand it--he expected a lot more interrogation, but he had to admit he was glad it was over.
"All right," the judge said. "We will break for the day and tomorrow hear the closing remarks." The court was dismissed, and Zac turned to Mark.
"Closing remarks?" Zac asked.
"Yeah. Then the jury will diliberate and we'll have ourselves a verdict." Zac had never been so afraid in his life. All this time he'd been waiting and waiting for the trial to end, and now that it was, he didn't want it to.
"Great..."
The jury was still diliberating after a week, and Zac was a nervous wreck. He spent most of his time in the living room with Jenny on his lap, watching movies and pretending not to be nervous. He jumped every time the phone rang, thinking it was Mark saying it was time to go back to the court house.
Jenny's birthday was uneventful. The family had a small party in the afternoon, and as one of her presents, she and Diana went to the zoo. Zac was worried about the enitre idea of his daughter being outside, but it turned out just fine. The two made it in and out of the hotel okay and nobody cared that they were at the zoo for most of the day.
"Daddy, can we go home soon?"
Jenny's taste of freedom had gone to her head. Now that she'd been outside again, she remembered all she was missing and wanted to leave.
"Soon, sweetie," Zac told her. "The meeting I've been having is going to be over any day now and when it is you can go back home." He didn't have the heart to tell her that there was a good chance he wouldn't be going home with her, because he'd kept the trial pretty much a secret from her so far. She had an idea what was going on, because she was indeed a smart girl, but Zac never confirmed anything for her. Zac didn't remember being eight, and thus didn't remember if he knew what trials and lawyers and verdicts meant. He knew for a fact, though, that he wouldn't understand his father going to prison for life.
"Okay," was all Jenny said.
The phone rang and once again Zac jumped. He allowed someone else to pick it up, and that someone was Taylor. Taylor looked rather bothered by having to answer the phone, but his look completely changed when he realized who was calling.
"Just a sec," Taylor said into the phone. He held it out for his little brother and didn't say anything else. The rift between Zac and Taylor was back again and neither of them were speaking to each other. Zac refused to look at him and Taylor refused to look back, and that was how it'd been all week.
Zac scooted Jenny out of his lap as he put the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
"Hey Zac," Mark said. "How's it going? How was Jenny's birthday?"
"It was good. My mother took her to the zoo for the day. She was really excited to be outside again after being stuck in here for so long," Zac said, not really caring if Mark heard the details of his daughter's birthday or not.
"All right. Great." Zac knew Mark wasn't really paying attention.
"What's going on, Mark?" Zac asked.
"We've got to go in tomorrow. The jury's got a verdict." Zac's heart sank. He didn't want to hear the verdict. It could be good, but it also could be bad. He didn't know what he'd do if it turned out to be bad. His biggest problem was that he didn't like the way the trial ended. Mark made a less-than-spectacular closing argument, and besides that, Zac never got to defend himself as fully as he would have liked.
"Okay," Zac found himself saying to Mark. "Tomorrow, then."
"Yes. Look nice."
"Okay." Those were Mark's only words of advice. It wasn't going to change anything about the verdict, so Zac didn't understand why he should even bother.
The next day came too soon. Zac woke up and got ready for the day without a word. When Mark arrived, most of the family was ready to leave as well. They were going to sit in the audience, like they did every day, and hear the verdict. Jenny was still asleep but the nanny Zac hired to take care of her was awake. Zac went back into his room where Jenny was asleep with the stuffed bunny rabbit Zac gave her for her birthday. He sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed her vibrant red hair out of her eyes. He kissed her forehead and she woke up. She looked up at him.
"Hey Daddy," she said into her pillow. He could barely understand her.
"Hey darlin. I'm going to my meeting now. Today's the last day."
"Then we can go home?"
"You can. I might have to stay here."
"I want to stay with you, then."
"No, Jenny. You're going back to New York with Kris and Taylor. You can't stay here with me," Zac said. "Where I might be going is no place for you."
"How long will you be?" Jenny asked.
"I don't know." He took in a shaky breath. "I love you, Jenny."
"I love you too, Dad."
"Don't ever forget that." He kissed her forehead again. She rolled over and went back to sleep. He looked at her until Mark appeared in the doorway. Zac nodded and took a final glance at his daughter, knowing full well it may be the last time he looked at her as a free man.
Reluctantly he got up and followed Mark out of the room, clsoing the door behind him. "I'm scared, Mark."
"I know." It was all Mark said to him. There were no words of encouragement or reassurance, just a simple confirmation because Mark was scared too.
Zac looked over the worried faces of his family. Kris was biting her nails, a habit she never had until the trial began. Taylor still refused to look at his brother in the eye, ashamed about the kiss between he and Ginger. Kris had obviously forgiven him already by the way she clutched his hand in hers. Zac wasn't so forgiving. Next to Taylor were their parents--neither of them really spoke to Zac since the trial started. Their few words consisted of firm beliefs on his innocence. Zac could only hope the jury was as confident in his innocence as his family was.
"Don't look so down," Zac found himself saying. "No matter what the outcome, I'll be fine. We'll all be fine."
Nobody brightened at this but managed to respond with an "okay" before they left the hotel room. At Mark's request, Zac travelled with him to the courthouse while the rest of the family went a different way.
"So when the verdict is read, no matter what the outcome, I want you to remain calm. You can react, but try to be as professional as possible. This will be taped and this is one of the few things that everybody will show. All the networks will pick up the verdict shot and air it on the news. You don't want to do anything stupid."
"Okay," was all Zac said.
"Don't worry about it. In the end everything always works itself out." Zac wanted to comment, but he knew it was true. He was an avid believer of that. Everything always did work itself out in the end; it was just that sometimes it was messy getting there.
At the courthouse Zac's hands began shaking. Mark continued to try to calm him, but he wasn't having it and almost had an emotional breakdown in the meeting room about five minutes before the trial was to resume. "Let's go kid," Mark said, helping Zac stand. "We don't want to be late." Zac didn't say anything as he wordlessly followed Mark out of the meeting room and into the courtroom.
As soon as he stepped inside the Court TV cameras zoomed in his direction. He didn't falter as he and Mark sat down. A few minutes later the session resumed as the judge sat down and began to speak.
"We've heard the closing remarks, the jury has deliberated. Do we have a verdict?" she asked the jury. One man sitting on the end nodded.
"Yes, your honor, we do."
"Then please stand and read the verdict." The weary man stood, holding a piece of official paper in his hands. Zac's heart beat wildly in his chest as his hands tensed and he held his breath.
"On the charge of murder in the first degree," the man read, "we the jury find the defendant Zachary Hanson guilty."