Read Sins of the Fathers for Free Online

Colby’s capable hands?
    Mona closed her eyes and willed it to be so.
    On the way in, Mona saw other parents who’d lost boys to the killer. They looked like she felt, empty and worn down. They were all still in shock. Up to the last minute, Mona wasn’t sure she’d even come to the hearing. But she had some inner need to do something . If she didn’t come, she would be letting Matthew down. She could do this for him and maybe fill the void that gaped in her heart and soul.
    She sat in the chair nearest the wall and exchanged terse introductions with a woman named Dawn Stead. Her boy Jared had been on the Royals, Matthew’s White Sox opponents that day. She seemed like she’d be nice enough in other circumstances. But now neither one of them was in the mood for talk. Mona couldn’t have managed anyway. Death was a fist inside her throat, choking the words.
    Mona was so tense her shoulders cramped. Her son’s murderer was going to be in this room, not fifteen feet away from her. She didn’t know how she would react.
    Once, when Matthew was three, he busied himself collecting leaves and sticks from eucalyptus trees, arranging them carefully in a pattern in the sandbox. Two boys, five or six years old, looked on.
    Mona thought that was nice. But then one of them kicked the sand, scattering Matthew’s labor. The other boy joined in the destruction.
    And Mona saw Matthew’s eyes grow wide with shock at the random violation.
    Mona’s reaction was intense, instant, savage. Only the fact that she had to run from the picnic table to the sandbox, and was given a momentary pause to reflect, kept her from physically throttling the older boys. She wanted to hurt them, cause them pain. She was not rational. She did not want to be rational. She wanted to hurt the ones who had hurt her child.
    Sitting in court, remembering that day, Mona’s chest tightened and she had trouble breathing normally. She wanted Brad with her, and she didn’t want him. Would things ever be normal again? Would life relent, give them a break?
    And then, at nine o’clock, the defendant was brought in.
    Mona gasped. She had seen him the day of the shooting, but only in a flash and far away. He had seemed huge then, but maybe only because of all that was happening around her. Maybe her mind had built up his monstrosity, adding layers to her memory.
    But this was a boy, not much older than Matthew, and he was dressed like a criminal.
    Because that’s what he was. He was one of the boys from the sandbox, grown older and harder and more evil. And despite his age, he had to be stopped. He had to be punished. He had to be put away for the rest of his life for what he did.
    Mona realized she was holding on to the arms of the courtroom seat so hard her fingers were curled into claws.
    The judge, Darlene Howard, looked like a grandmother, and Mona did not want a grandmother’s softness anywhere near this case. Even though this was only a brief hearing— arraignment was the word—it felt to Mona like a setting of the tone. She did not want the killer’s lawyer to get anything for her client, if anything was possible.
    “The People of the State of California versus Darren DiCinni,” the judge said. “Counsel, state your appearances.”
    “Good morning, Your Honor. Leon Colby, deputy district attorney, for the people.”
    “Lindy Field,Your Honor, for the defendant Darren DiCinni, who is present in court. At this time we will waive a reading of the complaint and statement of rights and enter a plea of not guilty.”
    Not guilty . How could this lawyer even mouth those words? Contempt began to boil inside Mona Romney. This lawyer was an enemy to Matthew’s memory. She could not be allowed to get the killer off the hook, in any way.
    The judge asked Darren DiCinni to stand up. “Mr. DiCinni, did your lawyer explain the charges against you?”
    Mr. DiCinni? Mona squirmed. How could the judge call him that? Mister? That kind of respect should be reserved