The Frailty of Flesh - By Sandra Ruttan Page 0,1

known. This was a woman who, barely in her forties, looked like she’d turned into a compulsive chain-smoker when she’d finally kicked other habits. The way she scratched at her arms, her skin-and-bones body, her gray pallor and the vacuous stare gave it away. She was a shell, someone who’d tried to fill the void with one substance or another, and her best years were well behind her, despite the fact that she wasn’t that old.

Lisa Harrington was someone who’d probably spent her life in and out of jail, dependent on court-appointed attorneys and government-assistance programs to make ends meet when she wasn’t on the wrong side of a prison sentence. Not that any of that mattered at the moment.

“They sent the letter to let you know he’s applied for early release. It tells you when the hearing is scheduled. You can choose to attend.”

Her head snapped up and a rush of color filled her cheeks. “Why would I want to see that filth go free?”

Craig waited until he felt she was calm enough to hear him. “He won’t be released right away. It’s a hearing.”

“W-why tell me?”

“The families of the victims are notified in case they’d like to participate. You can prepare what’s called a victim impact statement. It gives you a chance to tell the parole board how his crimes affected you.”

Lisa set the mug down. Her elbows were digging into the table as she reached back and smoothed the hair that was still tucked behind her ears. “What good does that do?”

“Well, you get to make sure they don’t forget about your daughter. He’ll be trying to show them how much he’s changed and that he’s a better person, and he’ll say he’s sorry and ready to rejoin society.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Will that work?”

Craig took a deep breath. “If he’s managed to stay out of trouble in prison and has good references, says he’s found Jesus or something, yeah. He just might persuade them. I won’t lie to you, it’s possible he’ll get out.”

Her face fell. Craig hadn’t thought it was possible for her to look worse than she did, but she managed to pull it off. Something about the way her cheeks sagged and how her bottom lip quivered…But the glint in her eyes told a different story.

It hinted at a woman on the brink of madness, of really, truly losing it. Probably the only thing holding her back was lack of energy. Her one small outburst seemed to have drained all her reserves. She didn’t look like she had the physical strength required to go off the deep end. Instead, she lay whimpering at the edge of the abyss.

“That’s why it’s important for you to go, make a statement. You have to tell them who Hope was. You have to make them see the daughter you lost, understand what he did to her and to you.”

“I just…just wish Steve would be there. Maybe he’d know the right thing to say.”

“He’s away right now, but he does keep his own notes on every case. I can take a look if you want, see if there’s anything in there that might be helpful.”

“Y-you could get those?”

Craig nodded. “They’d be at his house here. He’s just on a temporary assignment.” I hope, Craig thought.

She gaped at him for a moment, then forced her jaw up as she nodded. “Th-that would…Thanks.” Lisa lowered her gaze as she pushed herself up slowly and slid out from behind the table, visibly shaking. She picked up her purse and tried to open it.

Craig stood and put up his hand. “I’ve got it.”

Lisa kept tugging for a moment. The sharp jerks she was exerting on the zipper were probably the reason it had jammed and refused to yield. Craig reached out and touched her arm. “It’s okay.”

She released the zipper and took another deep breath while Craig took his wallet out of his pocket. He tossed a bill down on the table, removed a business card and passed it to her.

“I’ll look at his notes, see if anything might help. If there’s anything I can do, just call.” Hollow words. She would go home, think about her dead daughter, try to get it together for the parole board hearing and then pace the floor, chain-smoking until she got word of the decision.

He’d go back to work, move on to the next case. Different names, different faces, same look of shock surfacing behind their eyes as they came to grips with the destruction crime