table. He realized now why they had pinned him down early.
He was helpless to stop this. But oddly enough, Ray felt a calm blanket him. It was over now. There was nothing he could do. Nothing anyone could do. And for once, that was okay. It was time for it to be over. Relief was on its way.
When Andrew took his position behind Ray Goldman's head, the man looked up at him, right into his eyes and said, "Thank you." Andrew just about lost it. Just about lost it once and for all.
The nurse approached the table and slid the EKG pads under the neck of Goldman's shirt. She flipped a switch on the machine, and they could all hear the steady beep of Goldman's heartbeat. For now. She instructed Goldman to make a fist, swabbed the inside of his elbow with a cotton ball, and in a mercifully short period of time, managed to slip an IV needle into a vein. With two strips of surgical tape, she fixed the needle into place. For the moment, Goldman received a simple saline solution. But that wouldn't last long.
The preliminaries were complete. The warden removed the death warrant from his pocket and began to read. "Raymond Daniel Goldman, you have been found guilty of eight counts of murder in the first degree by the State of Oklahoma and have been sentenced to death by lethal injection." He paused, folded up the warrant. "Do you have anything you wish to say?"
The tranquillity that had embraced Goldman melted away. He began to wail. His voice was frenzied and desperate. "I did not kill all those people. I did not mutilate them. I couldn't!"
Andrew felt his hands trembling. Whether the man was lying or telling the truth, it was horrible. The tension in the room was all but unbearable.
"I love you, Carrie!" Goldman screamed. "I know you're out there! I love you!"
The warden removed his glasses, which was the signal to the executioners to let the chemicals flow. The chemical team looked at each other, then stepped closer to the machine and laid their hands on the buttons.
Goldman closed his eyes. The rabbi began muttering something in Hebrew.
"I didn't do it," Goldman said, gasping for air in great heaving gulps, his chest rocking. "I didn't. Tell them, Carrie. Tell them I didn't do it."
Andrew looked away.
And then the phone rang. The ring was jarring, strange. Everyone froze. The warden seemed confused for a moment, then he raced to the phone. "Stop!" he ordered. "Don't do anything."
"What's happening?" Goldman cried, his face wet with tears. "What's going on?"
The warden was on the phone for more than five minutes, most of that time just grunting or saying "I understand." Before the call ended, a clerk raced into the room waving an extra-long piece of paper.
The warden studied the document for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Mr. Goldman?"
Goldman was shaking so hard he could barely speak. "Yes, sir?"
"Mr. Goldman, it seems you have received a temporary reprieve. Thirty days, courtesy of the federal courts." He turned to his staff. "Gentlemen, you may stand down. Please unstrap Mr. Goldman and return him to his cell."
As soon as he was off the table, Goldman fell to his knees. "Thank you!" he cried out, his eyes closed, hands clasped. "Thank you!" His rabbi knelt beside him, and together they said another prayer.
Andrew felt a wave of relief so intense he could barely stand. He placed a hand against the wall to steady himself. When he finally felt he could walk reliably, he inched toward the warden.
"A reprieve from the federal courts, sir?" Andrew said. "How in the world did Goldman manage that?"
"He didn't." The warden was still staring at the paper, in particular scrutinizing a signature at the bottom of the page. "Do any of you boys know an attorney named Benjamin J. Kincaid?"
Chapter 2
Ben tapped the side of his head, just to make sure the old noggin was working properly. "You ate your shorts?"
"Right."
"Like... literally?"
"That's what I'm tellin' you."
"I mean, I've heard people use the expression. Eat
He was helpless to stop this. But oddly enough, Ray felt a calm blanket him. It was over now. There was nothing he could do. Nothing anyone could do. And for once, that was okay. It was time for it to be over. Relief was on its way.
When Andrew took his position behind Ray Goldman's head, the man looked up at him, right into his eyes and said, "Thank you." Andrew just about lost it. Just about lost it once and for all.
The nurse approached the table and slid the EKG pads under the neck of Goldman's shirt. She flipped a switch on the machine, and they could all hear the steady beep of Goldman's heartbeat. For now. She instructed Goldman to make a fist, swabbed the inside of his elbow with a cotton ball, and in a mercifully short period of time, managed to slip an IV needle into a vein. With two strips of surgical tape, she fixed the needle into place. For the moment, Goldman received a simple saline solution. But that wouldn't last long.
The preliminaries were complete. The warden removed the death warrant from his pocket and began to read. "Raymond Daniel Goldman, you have been found guilty of eight counts of murder in the first degree by the State of Oklahoma and have been sentenced to death by lethal injection." He paused, folded up the warrant. "Do you have anything you wish to say?"
The tranquillity that had embraced Goldman melted away. He began to wail. His voice was frenzied and desperate. "I did not kill all those people. I did not mutilate them. I couldn't!"
Andrew felt his hands trembling. Whether the man was lying or telling the truth, it was horrible. The tension in the room was all but unbearable.
"I love you, Carrie!" Goldman screamed. "I know you're out there! I love you!"
The warden removed his glasses, which was the signal to the executioners to let the chemicals flow. The chemical team looked at each other, then stepped closer to the machine and laid their hands on the buttons.
Goldman closed his eyes. The rabbi began muttering something in Hebrew.
"I didn't do it," Goldman said, gasping for air in great heaving gulps, his chest rocking. "I didn't. Tell them, Carrie. Tell them I didn't do it."
Andrew looked away.
And then the phone rang. The ring was jarring, strange. Everyone froze. The warden seemed confused for a moment, then he raced to the phone. "Stop!" he ordered. "Don't do anything."
"What's happening?" Goldman cried, his face wet with tears. "What's going on?"
The warden was on the phone for more than five minutes, most of that time just grunting or saying "I understand." Before the call ended, a clerk raced into the room waving an extra-long piece of paper.
The warden studied the document for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Mr. Goldman?"
Goldman was shaking so hard he could barely speak. "Yes, sir?"
"Mr. Goldman, it seems you have received a temporary reprieve. Thirty days, courtesy of the federal courts." He turned to his staff. "Gentlemen, you may stand down. Please unstrap Mr. Goldman and return him to his cell."
As soon as he was off the table, Goldman fell to his knees. "Thank you!" he cried out, his eyes closed, hands clasped. "Thank you!" His rabbi knelt beside him, and together they said another prayer.
Andrew felt a wave of relief so intense he could barely stand. He placed a hand against the wall to steady himself. When he finally felt he could walk reliably, he inched toward the warden.
"A reprieve from the federal courts, sir?" Andrew said. "How in the world did Goldman manage that?"
"He didn't." The warden was still staring at the paper, in particular scrutinizing a signature at the bottom of the page. "Do any of you boys know an attorney named Benjamin J. Kincaid?"
Chapter 2
Ben tapped the side of his head, just to make sure the old noggin was working properly. "You ate your shorts?"
"Right."
"Like... literally?"
"That's what I'm tellin' you."
"I mean, I've heard people use the expression. Eat
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