4. Ava
4
AVA
I t’s been three weeks since that night.
Twenty-one days of tumultuous emotions running rampant inside of me; I’m constantly volleying from one extreme to the other as my once-peaceful life continues to disintegrate. From guilt to anger to a crippling sadness, I’m left with a heaving chest while this living, breathing nightmare continues to unfold.
I relive it from the moment I open my eyes until they close, and even then, there’s no reprieve.
Because of Jason Ripley, I’ve lost it all .
My community. My shop. My peace.
Moreover, everyone knows who he is.
They’ve read about or watched the special news coverage of his crimes. There’s a morbid fascination that’s grown—people trying to get a glimpse into the mind of a serial killer while harassing anyone with information about his pending court case.
It’s not enough to learn the details through journalistic accounts; I’ve been followed.
Cornered. Scrutinized.
My business was inundated with strangers trying to get a glimpse of the girl who caught him.
“Would you like to take a break, Miss Perry?” Silvia, the court reporter, asks while placing a bottle of water and a box of Kleenex in front of me. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, and I’m grateful for the gesture. She doesn’t have to; her job isn’t to cater to me or my emotions, but I appreciate it more than I can express. “It’s almost lunchtime, and I’m sure both attorneys will agree that this would be a prudent time for a break. Or we can call it a day if you need?”
Her tone almost makes me smile. Almost.
She’s a no-nonsense woman in her mid-forties with a navy blue and white polka dot knee-length dress, a beehive hairstyle, and bright red lipstick to polish off her look. It’s cute on her. The style is a little demure meets sassy, while beneath the edge of her white cardigan, I see what looks to be a dragonfly tattoo on her wrist.
She’s made this deposition a little less everything:
Uncomfortable.
Anxiety inducing.
Stressful.
“Thank you…” I muster a wobbly grin and shake my head “…but I’d like to get this over with. Like a Band-Aid.”
“Still going to call it for lunch, Ava,” she says, and two male voices agree with her through the video conference call. The district attorney and the defense both move to disconnect the meeting, but I hold a hand up in the universal stop motion.
“Is something wrong?” the DA asks while the defense looks at me intently. “Would you like to call it for the day, instead? We can reconvene tomorrow morning?”
Taking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly. “How much longer?”
“Can you be more specific?” The District Attorney closes the notebook he’d been jotting down notes in. His eyes hold empathy.
“How many more questions do you have for me? Both of you.”
“I don’t have anything else, Miss Perry.” That came from the defense attorney. He’s been quiet for the most part, and over the last two days, he only asked one question… Do you have any physical or mental impediments that affect your ability to observe or remember the events?
That’s it. One simple yes or no question.
His defense is based on my credibility as a witness because of the documented panic attacks I had at the hospital. And yet, he failed to read deeper into my medical history, which clearly states the trauma of witnessing his client’s horrific crime slammed me into a state of shock and then utter fear .
Not during. Not while I was running for my life.
After, my emotions weren’t mine. I became a prisoner of the circumstance and couldn’t control it.
He also didn’t ask why I was there. Why was I walking home from my bakery that night?
My answer to his inquiry was a resounding no because I remember every last detail.
This isn’t my first rodeo with this investigation, and after going through the events of that night multiple times, I’m not the slightest bit desensitized. There’s no forgetting. No way to bleach his stomach-turning smirk from my memory.
My recap of the events before, leading to, and after haven’t changed, either.
Not when the detectives asked for my initial recollection and then my formal statement. Not when I picked Jason Ripley’s picture out of a lineup of twenty, and after the administrator wrapped up the procedure, I spoke to the head investigator again.
Over and over, and not once has my account of the night changed.
“We’ve gone through the night of the attempted murder and then his persistence in asking you out.” The DA picked up his water bottle and took a deep sip before placing it back beside a chain-store coffee cup. “But we haven’t discussed your earlier ties to the accused.”
My brows furrowed, and I shook my head. “I have no ties to him.”
“You went to school together, Miss Perry. Do you not remember?—”
“What do you mean we went to school together? ” It comes out a bit shrill, and I slip my hands to my lap, clenching my fingers tight. Breathe in deep to try and calm my racing heart. “No. That can’t be right. I’d remember if?—”
“From our investigation, we uncovered he attended the same high school as you. Jason was a senior during your freshman year at Twin Rivers High.”
“B-But I don’t remember him at all.” He has to be wrong. Has to be.
“Noted.” His eyes shift away from the screen for a second before flicking back. “How about the name Anthony Salcedo?”
“My old neighbor?” The DA nods, and the defense writes something down, but neither says another word while I swallow hard. I remember him. The guy one of my closest friends had a huge crush on. What happened that year.. . “He was on the baseball and soccer teams…always nice to everyone. Huge manga fan, too.”
“How do you know that?” This time, it’s the defense lawyer who chimes in.
“Because he spent hours at the same comic book shop one of my friends worked at.” It wasn’t my scene, and I never really visited the place, but Rose never stopped gushing about him. “She was sweet on him, but he never really noticed her. Not the way she wanted, anyway. Anthony was busy spending his time between sports and hanging out with two other guys from our school, but I never paid too much attention to them.”
“Why not?” the DA asks.
I shrug. “Didn’t want her to think I was attracted to him. It’s girl code.”
Both men let out a low chuckle at that, but it’s the prosecution that responds. “Understood. I’ve got twin daughters in college now, and I’ve heard it all. To be honest, they scare me a little bit.”
If he was trying to make me laugh, he failed, but it did pull a small smile from me. “We can be ruthless…”
“I plead the fifth here.”
“Smart man.” This segue from the truth smacking me in the face calms me a little bit. Enough that I’m able to exhale slowly, and the constricting feeling in my chest eases a bit with each breath that follows. “But to answer your earlier question, I don’t remember him. Not the other guy, either. They mostly kept to themselves. Didn’t hang out with others—no clubs or school activities. Anthony was the only trio member who stood out. Popular and nice, most of the girls in our school liked him, especially after he took the baseball team to state, and they won.”
“Would you happen to have a yearbook still? Or access to one?”
Before I can respond to the district attorney, Silvia, taps her watch. “We need to call it. Miss Perry and I deserve some food and fresh air.”
“Agreed. But I’m going to request we end her deposition here.” The defense sits forward and meets my stare through the screen. “Miss Perry, thank you for your time.”
“You’re welcome.” What else can I say? Can’t tell the man simply doing his job to go fuck himself for defending a despicable animal because no human being would torture and kill innocent women for pleasure.
“Good day.” He exits the cyber meeting, and Silvia holds up a finger, making sure he’s disconnected and the log-in passcode changed. It’s not the first time I’ve seen her do this. She’s been in charge of everything—from recording the deposition via an old-school tape recorder, to documenting every word in that short-hand typing they do. There’s also her kindness toward me—going out of her way to make me as comfortable as possible.
“We need to wrap this up, Devin. I’m hungry.” There’s a coyness in her eyes, and he smirks for a second before shaking his head.
“Forgive my wife. It’s our anniversary, and she wants to duck out early.”
Wait.” My eyes volley between the two, and they couldn’t be more different. She’s vibrant to his subdued. Sassy to his serious. “How is that possible? Should you be working on the same case? Will I get you in trouble?”
“Not at all, Ava. Everyone in the state knows,” Silvia says and then laughs. She also winks at me. “We’re nothing if not professional, and I’ve been known to hand him his ass more than playing nice. The fact we can argue in here and then go home and enjoy a bottle of wine just makes it more special.”
“Okay.” There’s nothing else I can say to that. To be honest, having seen her navigate, and, at times, intervene when I became distressed, endeared her to me. I would’ve never guessed, and at the same time, it makes me smile. A genuine one for the first time in so long. “That’s lovely.”
After a few seconds of silence, her husband clears his throat. “Do you have that yearbook by any chance?”
I shake my head “No. Sorry.” My head tilts to the side, and I run through the select few people I’ve kept in contact with over the years, wondering if anyone has a copy. “Except for my senior year, I tossed everything out.”
“That’s okay. We’ll contact the school and?—”
“But I might know someone who might have a copy. I’m almost positive she never tossed any of them away.”
“Rose?” Silvia asks, her brow arched. “You said she had a crush on him.”
“No. We’re not on good terms anymore.” That is the understatement of the century. She changed after we graduated, or maybe it was before. My best friend pulled away from me and became defensive after the position she put me in. “I’m talking about another friend. If anyone has a copy, it’s her. Amanda worked on the yearbook community and helped put them together, including the year you’re asking about.”
“How soon can you reach out and explain our urgency?”
“Today. Why?”
“Because I have a limited window to turn in my transcripts,” Silvia interjects, her expression serious now. “Everything you just shared will be given to the defense, Ava. I won’t hide anything, but the fact he exited the meeting before everyone is in your favor. Devin getting his hands on every piece of evidence and building a solid case will make sure Jason Ripley isn’t let off based on a technicality or lie.”