Chapter 29 #2
“Just a minute ago, we received word that Marco and Steven Benedetti have been found guilty on all three counts of murder in the first degree. To repeat, the Benedettis are guilty.”
Juliana screamed with joy and relief as she bolted to the front door in search of someone to celebrate with.
She ran down the stairs and jumped into the arms of one of the two cops guarding her that day.
Imagining how Michael must feel at this moment, tears slid down her cheeks.
He had done it. He’d gotten them—for the families of the three boys, for Rachelle, and for everyone touched by their reign of terror.
She was still talking to the police officers when their radios began to crackle with the news of shots fired at the courthouse. “What’s going on?” she asked in a tiny voice.
The cops listened intently to the back and forth, much of it in code that Juliana didn’t understand.
“Please,” she begged. “Tell me what happened.”
“It sounds like one of the Benedettis grabbed a gun and shot up the courtroom,” the younger of the two cops said.
“Michael,” Juliana moaned, sinking to the cement stairs. “Oh, Michael.”
As the younger cop went to the patrol car to find out more, the other one sat down next to her and took her hand. “We’re going to find out what happened just as fast as we can, okay?”
She squeezed his hand and nodded, knowing all the cops who had guarded them in the last few weeks had become fond of her and Michael. They knew exactly what she needed to hear just then.
Her heart raced as she absorbed the very real possibility that Michael could be dead. Promising anything God wished to ask for in return, she asked Him to protect Michael and bring him home to her.
The waiting became unbearable, and she began to cry.
The movie of her brief time with him ran through her mind over and over again.
Resting her head on her arms, she was overcome with love and fear unlike anything she’d ever experienced, even when Escalada held a knife to her throat.
Her worries for Michael’s safety were far greater than any she had ever felt for her own.
Just when Juliana thought she would go mad if she didn’t hear something soon, a police car pulled onto the street.
The back door opened, and Michael ran for her.
Later, she wouldn’t recall the exact moment when it registered with her that it was him, and he was safe.
All she remembered was running and crying and screaming his name.
Right in the middle of Chester Street, he scooped her off her feet and into his arms.
She rained kisses over his face before she found his lips.
“It’s over, baby,” he whispered. “It’s really over.”
“So then John fired from behind me and hit Marco right in the heart,” Michael recounted to Juliana. They were curled up together on the sofa after saying a tearful good-bye to the police officers who’d provided protection over the last two months.
“Thank God he was there.” Juliana couldn’t seem to stop touching Michael—his face, his hair, his chest—as if to confirm he was really safe.
“Yeah, he was unbelievable. He fired while he was in midair tackling me, and the shot was dead-on accurate. I don’t know how Marco missed us both. When I tried to thank John, he said, ‘I owed you one, Mr. Maguire.’”
“It must’ve been so scary.”
“It all happened so fast there was no time to be scared, but I’ll tell you what, in that one second when Marco fixated on me and I thought I was going to die, a lot of shit ran through my head.”
She caressed his face. “Like what?”
“I had just enough time to be really sad that I wouldn’t get to spend my life with you. And I thought about my poor parents who’ve already lost one son. That’s why I called them on the way home, before they heard it on the news. My mother was hysterical.”
Juliana closed her eyes tight against the burn of tears. “I was so sure you were dead.”
He pressed his lips to hers. “All I could think about was getting home to you. I left Tom to deal with the media and got the hell out of there.” He checked his watch. “They’re having a press conference in a few minutes.”
She released him so he could turn on the TV.
They listened to Police Chief Noonan recount the events that occurred in the courtroom.
He announced for the first time that the Benedettis had been linked to the attempted murder-for-hire of the eyewitness and the police officers guarding her in the Annapolis hotel room.
The chief answered a flurry of questions about the connection between the Benedettis and Escalada without naming Juliana.
“Thank God it’s over,” she whispered.
“Thank God they’re dead, and they can’t hurt you or anyone else.”
Tom appeared next. “I want to thank everyone on my staff who worked so hard over the last year to secure the convictions of Marco and Steven Benedetti. In particular, the entire city of Baltimore owes a debt of gratitude to lead prosecutor Michael Maguire. Despite repeated threats to his safety and that of his loved ones, Mr. Maguire never wavered in his commitment to see justice served on behalf of the Borges, Domingos, and Sargant families. I think it’s safe to say the Benedettis are now facing a higher form of justice than anything we could’ve meted out here on earth. ”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Michael said. “I hope they rot in hell.”
They listened to interviews with several jurors who expressed shock over the events in the courtroom, as well as what they finally learned about the arsenic attack.
“I wondered why she didn’t testify in person,” the foreman said. “We had our suspicions that something happened to her, but we never could’ve imagined all of this.”
“This means Rachelle’s family can go home again, right?” Juliana asked.
“They’re on their way as we speak, and I heard today that Scott Brown is on the mend.”
“That’s great news,” she said, overcome with relief to know that Rachelle would get back at least some of what she’d lost on that fateful night and that Officer Brown would recover from his injuries. “I don’t ever want to hear the name Benedetti again. Can we never, ever talk about them again?”
“Fine by me.” Michael flipped off the television and turned to her. “I have a big idea.”
“What’s that?”
“Tom told me not to show my face in the office until next Monday, and you don’t have to be anywhere until Saturday. What do you say we get out of here for a few days?”
“I’d love to.”