Waves

Part 16

This is a big one guys! Let me know what you think...

When Eve was a little girl, she would occasionally play with the record player at her grandmother's house, fascinated by the contraption. It brought her great joy every time her grandma patiently demonstrated how to lift the arm and carefully place the needle on the record. She'd pull old albums from the shelf, stretch out in the sunlit living room, and dance for hours. There was nothing she loved more than closing her eyes in happiness, listening to song after song as she dreamt.

She was thinking about that record player as she strolled into one music shop in Cleveland, anxiously killing time before she sat down with Connie Banks at the diner next door. Greeted by an older gentleman behind the counter, she asked him if he had any Kid Cudi on vinyl. "Only thing I have is his first album," he replied, pulling it out of a dusty cabinet.

Eve's eyes lit up as she took it from him. "This is perfect. My boyfriend's favorite song is Up, Up and Away. We used to play this on repeat all day long," Eve chuckled as she pulled her credit card out. Thanking the man, she tucked her purchase for Joe into her tote bag and walked next door to the diner.

Grabbing a booth in the back, she nervously nursed a cup of coffee until she spotted a petite woman in a nurse's uniform walk in and scan the dinner. Waving slightly, she stood up as Connie approached the table and held out her hand. "Thank you so much for meeting with me on such short notice. You have no idea what this means to Mr. Rooks." Connie looked around cautiously and sat down across from Eve, fidgeting with the gold band on her finger.

"My husband doesn't know I'm here. He wouldn't want me getting involved in all of this," Connie mumbled. "That's fine. He doesn't have to, unless what you share with me leads me to subpoena you. Can you start from the beginning?"

Eve sat enraptured by Connie's story, typing furiously on her laptop while Connie described the night of the murder in vivid detail. Her father worked as a security guard in the strip mall that the convenience store was located in, and on that night, Connie had tagged along since her mother was out of town.

Bridget Pope was someone known to her father, and Connie had frequently seen Pope's distinctive yellow Mustang parked outside of her house when her mother was working, even managing to rattle off the license plate number after 20 years. "Do you think Pope and your father were in a relationship?" Eve asked, pausing for a moment.

"Yes. I found their letters to each other in my father's attic when we were moving him into senior living," Connie grimaced, pulling a fat stack of yellowed letters from her purse and sliding them across the table. "Tell me more about the night of the murder," Eve nodded, putting the letters in her bag.

Normally Connie's father would let her walk around the strip mall with him, but when he pulled up and saw the yellow Mustang outside of the convenience store, his demeanor changed. He ordered her to lie down in the back seat and not get out of the car no matter what she heard.

"I was stretched out on the floor of the car when I heard yelling. A few seconds later, it sounded like fireworks going off, and I peeked my head up and saw my father running out of the store. He got into the car and sped out of the parking lot like he was on fire." Connie closed her eyes for a minute as she held her face in her hands, the memories from that night flooding in.

"When we got back inside the house, I saw that his security uniform was covered in blood. He peeled it off right there in the kitchen, and he said I was not to discuss this with anyone or else. Daddy was a real son of a bitch back then, and I knew better than to argue with him," Connie whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Do you know what happened to that uniform Connie?" Eve responded, her heart rate jumping through the roof at the thought of what this could all mean for Taylor Rooks. Nodding slowly, Connie reached down and pulled out a battered brown paper bag. "I thought he'd thrown this in the incinerator, but a few weeks ago, I was back at his house getting it ready for the realtor and I found this."

Eve couldn't stop her mouth from gaping open as she looked at the bag; the literal smoking gun in a case that sent an innocent man to death row. "Connie, where is your father now? What is his mental state?" Eve knew that Connie's father was in assisted living and well into his 70s.

"His body is old but his brain is sharp. He's in a facility about 20 minutes away." Making a note of his address and room number, Eve asked Connie a few more questions before she walked Connie back to her car.

"I want to thank you for coming forward. It's not lost on me how hard this must have been to carry with you for over 2 decades," Eve said. Connie smiled and looked up at the sky. "It's the least I could do. Taylor Rooks has lost too much of his life because of someone else's crime. He deserves to see this too."

Eve said goodbye to Connie before going back inside the diner to rip off a series of emails to her co-counsel and the senior partners at the Project. Looking at the time on her watch, she headed to the hotel to pack up her stuff and get back on the road.

She called Joe as she loaded up the trunk and it uncharacteristically went straight to voicemail. Seconds later, he sent her a short text saying that he was heading into a meeting and that he'd be waiting at her apartment after.

Turning onto the on-ramp for the 71 South, Eve sang loudly to the oldies on the radio as she sped towards Cincinnati. She couldn't wait to get the lab to process the DNA on the uniform, her optimism at an all time high. This was what she went to law school for; the opportunity to help those for whom society had shut the door on.

While Eve was having her own personal concert on the highway, Joe was pulling into Sam's driveway. He wiped a bead of sweat off his brow and walked up the steps, the fear of what was on the other side of the door causing his stomach to churn.

Sam opened the door and gave his friend a grim look as he dapped him up. "Thanks for doing this. I hate that I had to use your house but I can't risk anyone seeing us," Joe muttered. "I get it. She's outside," Sam motioned towards the back of his house and Joe followed him down the hallway; the long approach feeling like a walk to the gallows.

Right as Joe was about to walk out onto the patio, Sam stopped him. "Joe, I love you like a brother and I have no idea what you're about to face. But you've got to promise me one thing. When all of this," Sam pointed to the patio, "is said and done-you need to tell Eve. Or I will."

Joe nodded curtly and stepped outside; the creamy clouds and blue skies betraying the storm that was in front of him. Plopping into a patio chair, he sighed and ran his hands through his hair as he shot daggers at the woman sitting across from him. "You have 15 minutes," he scowled, his mood in direct contrast to the bright smile Lana flashed him.

When Eve was a little girl, she would occasionally play with the record player at her grandmother's house, fascinated by the contraption. It brought her great joy every time her grandma patiently demonstrated how to lift the arm and carefully place the needle on the record. Once in a while, she didn't listen to her grandmother's instructions, and she'd drop the arm too fast onto the vinyl; the sound of the record scratching and skipping echoing into the living room.

That scratching and skipping, followed by deafening silence, was what she was reminded of as she bounded into her apartment and saw a ghost pale Joe sitting on the couch. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his chest heaved with sobs. She immediately sat beside him and asked him what was wrong; his distraught demeanor leaving her concerned someone was hurt or had died. However, there was no injured relative or sick friend, but rather a bomb that slowly imploded as Joe began speaking.

"After you and I broke up...met this girl...hooked up....last time was before the wedding...I told her it was done...she started calling me...tried to ignore...didn't want to upset you...opened the package...sat down with her today...I'm so sorry...pregnant...I don't see how...says I'm the only guy she was with...it's mine...I'm so sorry..."

Eve's ears rang as she struggled to process what she had just heard. She stared blankly at Joe for a few minutes as he sobbed hysterically, her brain slowly computing the bits and pieces she had picked up. "Joe. What are you talking about-who's pregnant?"