“Do you have a daughter or son?” The woman kept tapping her iPhone, but her voice made heads turn in the back row.
“A daughter,” Rose whispered, getting nervous.
Mayor Krakowski continued, “Let us pause for a moment of silence this morning, to honor these fine women and reflect upon all they meant to all of us, and to our community as a whole.” He bent his head, as did most of the crowd. There was the sound of a sniffle or two, though the woman with the iPhone kept fussing with the touch screen. Rose looked down, cuddling John so he’d stay quiet, but there was rustling in the back row as more people turned around and glanced in their direction. She hoped they were looking at the woman next to her.
“Is your daughter into American Girl, too?” the woman asked, turning to her.
“Shh,” Rose whispered, but the woman’s eyes widened slightly.
“Oh, my! You’re the one who left Amanda.”
Rose snapped her face front, mortified. Her cheeks flushed, her mouth went dry. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know whether to stay or leave. More heads turned in the back row, and Rose knew it was about her.
Mayor Krakowski raised his head, finishing the moment of silence. “Thank you, and allow me to introduce another person who needs no introduction, Senator Paul Martin. Senator Martin?” He stood aside as Senator Martin rose, tall and slim in a dark suit, with tortoiseshell glasses. His thick, graying hair caught the auditorium lights as he took the podium, raised the microphone, and said, “Good morning, Mayor Krakowski, Mr. Rodriguez, members of the school board, parents, and friends.”
Rose kept her eyes to the stage, pretending not to notice that the woman with the iPhone had turned away and was murmuring something to the woman beside her, who had been digging in her purse. The woman with the purse looked over and both of them edged away. More heads were turning around in the audience, as word spread to the back rows. They were all looking at her, talking about her.
Senator Martin continued, “I feel honored to address all of you this morning, on the loss of an amazing teacher, Marylou Battle, and two very dedicated cafeteria workers, Ellen Conze and Serena Perez. I see the expressions of loss and grief on your faces today, and I know that all of you will pull together and stay strong for your families, and particularly your children. Reesburgh is small, but strong, proud, and the very definition of community, and having been at Homestead like many of you, I know that you will persevere through this tragedy.”
Rose ignored the commotion to her right, where the women were talking to someone else, their heads together, their whispers behind manicured fingers. She held John closer, hugging him protectively, as people in the seats twisted around to get a look at her. People standing in the back were shifting away from her, leaving her alone. She felt surrounded by shuffling, rustling, and murmuring, but nobody said anything to her.
Rose swallowed hard. She realized that there weren’t going to be any more yelling matches, like at Fiore’s or the hospital. People would ignore and avoid her until she became invisible, someone they talked about, but not to. And she understood, for the first time, how Melly felt.
Every day of her life.
Chapter Thirty-three
Rose was let into a small conference room, dominated by a floor-to-ceiling panel of windows and a round walnut table covered with papers, briefs, and a laptop. The two lawyers rose instantly, their backlit silhouettes markedly different; the man on the left was reedy and tall, and the one on the right was stocky and short. Until Rose’s eyes adjusted to the light behind them, she couldn’t see their features at all, and it added to her feeling of surrealism, that she found herself meeting with two faceless lawyers, one of whom represented criminals.
“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” she said, hoisting John higher on her hip, and the tall lawyer strode around the table toward her, extending a hand with long fingers. His polished smile came into focus first, then his light eyes behind hip rimless glasses, and a lean face framed by thick, reddish hair cut in expensive layers.
“Oliver Charriere.” His handshake was strong and brief, and he looked more styled than dressed, in a superbly tailored Italian suit with discreet pinstripes. “Great to meet you.”
“I’m Tom Lake,” said the other, who had a big folksy grin and the handshake of a weightlifter. His hair was short and bristle cut, his eyes brown behind aviator frames, and his tan suit strained at the seams. His neck was so big that the collar of his blue shirt cut into his jugular. “At this point, we usually say we’re Mutt and Jeff, but I can see you’re too young to get the joke.”
“Not at all, but thanks.” Rose smiled.
“Coffee?” Oliver asked, gesturing.
Tom smiled. “He takes your drink order, and I make the doughnuts. I’ve been baking all morning.”
Rose chuckled. “Coffee would be great, thanks.”
“Cream and sugar, correct?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“My Spidey sense.” Oliver crossed to the credenza, which held a tall coffee container and a flat box of doughnuts. He picked up a styrofoam cup and raised it to the coffee dispenser, pressing down the button on the lid. “Women like cream and sugar. Very few women drink black coffee, and I can tell who they are with my eyes closed. You’re too lovely to be one of them.”
Tom snorted. “Believe it or not, Oliver’s inherent sexism helps when he picks a jury.”
“If not a wife,” Oliver added, and they laughed.
“Allow me.” Tom rolled a maroon Aeron chair from under the table for her. “Please, sit down. You okay with the baby?”
“Yes, thanks.” Rose took a seat, resettling John, who smiled up at her, then sucked his pacifier with such vigor that it moved up and down. “Thanks for letting me bring him.”
“Not at all, we allow pets.” Oliver strolled over with the coffee, and Tom shot him a comically dirty look.
“Please, show respect. That’s Leo Ingrassia’s son.”
“Right.” Rose felt herself relax. “And he bites.”
“So do I.” Oliver set the coffee on the conference table in front of Rose, then leaned over slightly, unfastened a button on his jacket, and sat down opposite her.
Tom took a seat next to him, sitting down heavily. “And so begins our lesson on the difference between criminal lawyers like my partner, and civil lawyers like me. He’s an obnoxious peacock, and I’m straight.”
Rose laughed.
Oliver shook his head, then glanced at Tom. “Same old jokes, over and over. You’re fired.”
“You can’t fire me, I quit, and we’re here for her.” Tom pointed an index finger at Rose. “So you’re married to Leo, the lucky bastard, and he knows Dean. I was in JAG with Dean’s brother. It’s lawyers all the way down. Let’s get started.” Tom looked over at Oliver with a crooked grin. “Should I clear the deck, first?”
“Oh, please. Not again.”
“Yes, again. Clean up time!” Tom stuck out his arm, placed it against the clutter of stapled briefs, newspaper clippings, and Xeroxed legal cases, then swept it off the edge of the table and onto the maroon rug.
Rose burst into laughter, and Oliver rolled his eyes behind his cool glasses.
“Rose, please, don’t encourage him. Now, you probably already know this, as a lawyer’s wife, but let me explain one thing at the outset. You need to see both of us this morning, a criminal lawyer and a civil lawyer, because criminal charges may be filed against you, by the D.A., and you may also be sued in civil court, for damages. They’re two different things. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Here’s how we’ll run this meeting this morning. Criminal law is more important than civil because locks and keys are involved. That means I’ll talk first, while Tom tries not to pick his nose. Still with me?”
“Yes.” Rose kept her smile, even though she didn’t like the joke about the lock and keys.
“We’re both familiar with your case. We’ve seen the TV and online vi
deo, but tell us what happened at school last Friday. Omit nothing.”
“Well, I was lunch mom,” Rose began, and told them the whole story, from the jelly circle to the debris she’d seen at the school last night. Oliver took notes on the laptop, and Tom wrote on a fresh yellow legal pad, pressing so hard that he embossed the paper with his handwriting. When she finished, she braced herself, managing a smile. “Okay, what’s the verdict, gentlemen?”
Oliver leaned back in his chair. “First, don’t look so worried. You’re in excellent hands with us. We’re smarter than we look. At least I am.”
“Good.” Rose shifted John onto her lap, and he leaned backwards, lying in the crook of her arm and gazing up at her, in his sweet way.
“Let me lay out the criminal side for you. Under Pennsylvania law, specifically 18 Pa.C.S.A. Section 301(b)(2), criminal liability can be imposed for an act, or for the failure to perform an act, when one is imposed by law.” Oliver spoke with authority and confidence. “In other words, you’re not criminally liable for an omission, unless your duty to act is imposed by law. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“There are circumstances in which adults do have a duty to a child imposed on them, and one such time is when there is a ‘status relationship’ to the child.” Oliver made quote marks in the air. “Parents, for example, have that duty to their children, merely by virtue of their status. Make sense?”
“Yes.” Rose glanced at John, and he was dozing off, sucking away.
“Now, the duty isn’t only for parents. It can apply to anyone in control and supervision of a child, like a babysitter, a day-care worker, or a boyfriend or girlfriend who lives with the child. In Pennsylvania, that was established in the Kellam case.”
Rose nodded.
“If someone can be said to have assumed a status relationship to the child, that forms a basis for criminal liability, in this and most other jurisdictions.”
“Like being lunch mom?”
“Yes, exactly, and many other volunteer situations in schools, volunteers in the library, computer lab, music room, also coaches and chaperones on field trips.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Jeez.” Rose considered the implications, with dismay. “You mean if anybody in one of those situations screws up, they can be charged with a crime?”
“Let’s not speculate that broadly. To be precise, all of those situations are fraught with liability, not only civil but criminal.”
Rose had had no idea. She smoothed John’s hair into place, but had the feeling she was comforting herself again.
“To digress, every summer, I’m asked to speak to baseball coaches. The first hour they have a doctor tell the coaches—all parents, like you—about medical care in case of emergency. Then, the second hour, I advise them to forget everything they just heard. I tell them that the only thing they should do in an emergency is call 911. That’s it. Period.”
“Why?”
“Because they could incur civil and criminal liability, otherwise.”
Rose thought it was awful that they’d come to this point, as a civilization. It was hardly civilized. “Does criminal liability mean go to jail?”
“Not always, but usually.”
“Am I going to jail?” Rose asked, her heart in her throat, but Oliver held up a hand.
“Wait. Stop. Don’t get ahead of us, please. When you became a lunch mom, you arguably assumed such a status relationship to the children.”
“‘Arguably’? What does that mean?”
“It means that if I were to represent you, we’d argue you didn’t, but it’s a tough argument to win, and criminal liability arises under Kellam when you have prevented others from rendering aid.”
“But I didn’t do that.”
“Yes, you did. You just told us you kept the girls in the cafeteria after dismissal to recess.” Oliver’s gaze was direct, yet without judgment, behind his tiny glasses. “They couldn’t go outside where there were teachers and others to help them. Then the other lunch mom, Terry, left.”
“That was her decision.” Rose shook her head. “I didn’t want her to go.”
“True, but that’s not legally significant. At the point at which she leaves to tell Mrs. Snyder, you detained the children and put them in a position where they couldn’t be helped by others. Then, the D.A. will say, you failed to adequately help them, under Kellam. And it doesn’t help that there’s a suggestion your actions were motivated by dislike for Amanda, since she teases Melly.”
Rose felt her stomach twist. “Can you contact Emily and her parents, or Danielle and hers, and try to get the facts? They can say I took them to the door.”
“We’ll try but they won’t talk to us, I’m sure. If they’re thinking of suing you or the school, they won’t be permitted to talk to us.”
Rose nodded. She should have known. It was a nightmare, replayed. They’d never get the truth now. Justice would be kept at bay by the lawyers.
“In addition, under Kellam, their testimony can hurt you. The kids will say you had them in time-out, yelling at them. One of them cried, right?”
“Yes,” Rose admitted, miserable.
“Kellam is a bad case for you, though the facts are very different. Mr. Kellam was a child abuser.”
“How long did he go to jail for?”
“Ninety to 240.”
“Days?”
“Months.”
Rose gasped. “That’s twenty years!”
Tom pursed his lips, and Oliver held up his hand, again. “Look, there’s nothing saying you’ll be charged.”
“How do we know if I’ll be charged?” Rose felt panicky. “Who decides?”
“The D.A.”
“So can we ask him what he’s going to do?”
“No. Better to wait and see—”
“But this is my life, and the uncertainty is awful!”
“The uncertainty is better than provoking him. Keep your eye on the ball. We want this to blow over. The D.A. will be hard pressed to charge a pretty mommy with a crime, unless public pressure is too great not to do so. Lucky for us, it’s not an election year.”
Rose wasn’t feeling so lucky. “If they charge me, do they arrest me?”
“We’d ask for bail, and we’d get it. You’re not a flight risk.”
Rose’s mind reeled. Bail. Arrest. Flight risk.
“Also there’s a separate statute, for criminal endangerment of a child, that we need to worry about.” Oliver turned to the laptop and hit a few keys. “The criminal endangerment statute provides that a parent or guardian or ‘other person supervising the welfare of a child’”—Oliver made quote marks again—“may be criminally liable for endangering the welfare of the child. And the Pennsylvania Supreme Court, in the Gerstner case, has interpreted the term to include babysitters and others who have ‘permanent or temporary custody of the child.’” Oliver turned back to her, his gaze steady. “Much of this jurisprudence evolved under child abuse law, which is clearly not this case, but the law is the law.”
“So how does that apply to me? As you said, I’m no child abuser.”
“Of course not.” Oliver leaned over. “But again, not legally significant. You were in supervision, it was exclusive, and you didn’t take the kids all the way to the playground. I don’t blame you, but that’s not the point.”
Rose couldn’t believe her ears.
“Assume the facts that they have are true, namely, that you chose your child over the others, abandoning Amanda and the other two. That’s straight-up endangerment.”
“But that’s not what happened.”
“I know, but that’s a matter of proof. They’ll have to prove their set of facts, and even though we don’t technically have the burden, we’ll have to prove ours. Now, is there surveillance videotape in the cafeteria or elsewhere in the school?”
Rose hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know, I doubt it. They videotape on the buses. Melly doesn’t take th
e bus.”
“Understood.” Oliver nodded. “The D.A. will need more information to charge you, and they’ll try to get it, in the days to come. If one of the assistant D.A.s calls you or drops by, say nothing and call me. In the meantime, say nothing to anybody about this case. Don’t talk about it at all. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“If it starts to look like they’ll charge you, we’ll have an opportunity to tell them the way it really happened. I don’t think a jury that has all the relevant facts would convict you beyond a reasonable doubt.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, but I’ve been doing this for twenty-six years and I’m not bad at it. It helps that Amanda is still alive. The D.A. will be far less likely to charge you if she lives. If she doesn’t, you could be looking at third degree murder.”
Rose felt vaguely sick. It was a double-whammy. Amanda dying, and her being arrested.
“Keep calm and carry on. That’s my motto, which I stole from British royalty.” Oliver permitted himself a crooked smile. “Third degree murder is like gross negligence. It’s killing done with legal malice, but without the specific intent to kill.” He turned to the laptop again and hit a few more keys. “Malice is defined as ‘principal acts in gross deviation from the standard of reasonable care, failing to perceive that such actions might create a substantial or unjustifiable risk of death or serious bodily injury.’ That’s Yanoff.”
“This is a nightmare.”
“No, this is a situation that we can deal with, and we will. For the present, some things are up in the air.” Oliver smiled. “Now, it’s time to turn the floor over to my genius partner, who will tell you the relevant civil law and also a brilliant legal strategy we came up with.”
Rose turned to Tom, who was at the credenza, pouring water into another styrofoam cup. She’d been so focused, she hadn’t noticed that he’d left the conference table.