American Savages Read online

  “Mr. Callahan?” DiMarco asked again, and the army of lawyers all paused their shuffling to stare at me. “I know this can be quite daunting. But I will do everything in my power to get you out of here.”

  Everything in his power. If only he knew how worthless his power was to me.

  “Don’t smile or laugh because the jury will think I’m not taking the situation seriously. Don’t be too serious or cold, because then they will think I’m heartless. Find a balance and set my face to it. Yes, I understand.” I didn’t know how that was humanly possible, but I understood.

  Turning back to Ethan, Coraline took one of his chubby arms and made him wave at me. His green eyes stared directly at me and he smiled so wide I couldn’t help but smile back. I’m not sure if he knew who I was or if he was just a happy baby, either way, seeing him made life worth living again. Coraline grinned as well, then turned to face me and I shook my head at the black T-shirt she wore with my face on it. Declan must have loved that one. She looked healthier than the last time I saw her, but she still had a scarf on her head.

  Declan rolled his eyes at me before he unzipped his jacket to show me that he was wearing one as well. Oh God. Thankfully my father and Neal had enough sense to wear suits.

  But when I took better look at them I noticed the buttons pinned to the lapels of their jacket suits. It seemed as if the only person not wearing ‘Free Liam’ paraphernalia was Olivia. In fact, she didn’t even look as if she wanted to be here. Her blonde hair was pulled back making her face look icier than normal. She shook her head at me before returning her attention to my son. I wanted to snap her ugly neck, but again, it was not the time, nor the place.

  My mother pointed to my neck signaling me to fix my tie. She and Coraline had dropped off a brand new suit for me, along with a deep green tie that supposedly highlighted my eyes. It was odd how even with all the clothing I had on, I still felt naked without my ring on. It had been taken when I was arrested, and I wouldn’t be able to get my personal effects back until after this sham of a trial was over. I fixed the tie as she directed, and she smiled and gave me a thumbs up. Sometimes we were so Brady Bunch it made me sick.

  The entire family was here…all but one. Looking towards the door, I noticed for the first time all the cameras directed at me. There had to be at least twelve leading news stations here, covering ‘Liam Callahan; The Billionaire Murderer.’

  “Show time,” DiMarco said, as he buttoned up his suit jacket.

  I looked at him with a raised brow.

  This was a show to you?

  “Please rise, the Honorable Judge Kelly Weston presiding,” the bailiff called out, and we all stood.

  Fuck.

  She was a short woman with simple features and stringy dark hair. People who were short always overcompensated in other ways. Most likely she was a hardass.

  “Good morning, please be seated,” she said, sounding almost bored. “Okay we’re on the record, case number 67F82C5 State of Illinois vs. Liam Callahan. All parties are here and present, is there anything else we need to take up before we call the jury in?”

  DiMarco, who was still standing, shook his head. “Not at this time, Your Honor.”

  “We’re ready to begin as well,” the prosecutor said.

  He looked like a grease ball, with his slicked back hair and alligator shoes. I knew Coraline and my mother were making some sort of face at him, and I wished I could look back at them to see it.

  “Okay, bring them in,” Judge Weston said.

  I wasn’t sure who thought these people were a jury of my peers. It looked as if someone had picked them up at last call in some bar…or at a Wal-Mart at three in the morning.

  “Good morning ladies and gentlemen, I hope you all have no problems being here. I just need to ask you one question. Did any of you read, listen or hear about anything regarding this case?”

  “No.” All of them shook their heads and they were all lying…maybe they were my peers after all.

  “Okay then.” She nodded over to the prosecutor, and DiMarco, along with his lawyers, all sat down.

  “Once again, good morning ladies and gentlemen.” He pressed a button on his laptop and a photo of Mel in her wedding dress, smiling brightly and looking happy, appeared on the projector screen. It made me want to laugh because at that time in our relationship she’d wanted to kill me. But the photo captured her beautifully beyond the lie.

  “I want you to take a good look at Mr. Callahan, that man sitting there, one of the sons to the infamous billionaire Callahan family, and remember that he is not one of you. You see, Mr. Callahan hasn’t worked a day in his life. He’s never had to worry about bills or food or even safety. Everything has always just been handed…no, thrown at him. Women especially.

  “Go back only two and half years ago to his life without his wife, Melody Giovanni. Party after party, girl after girl, almighty freedom. Liam Callahan did whatever he wanted, whomever he wanted. No woman lasted on his arm for more than a month before he threw her away. Then poof, he’s married to the beautiful Ms. Melody Giovanni, and you’d think that would be enough. You’d think he would be happy. But a man like him can never be tied down without repercussions. Past girlfriends of his are either dead or their lives have been so altered that they cannot function as they once normally did; he breaks them and then throws them away.”

  For the love of Christ, someone needed to put one between his eyes.

  “Does this sound like a man ready to be married? A man ready to start a family? No. Liam Callahan did what all the Callahan men do; they get married while young, a tradition.

  “The evidence today will show that Mr. Callahan wanted to return to his previous life. He wanted the parties, the girls, the fun, and he would do anything to get it. He couldn’t live the immoral life he wanted to with the devoutly religious and beloved Melody. When she became pregnant with their first child, Liam panicked and tried to get rid of it because he felt trapped. Melody was hospitalized with a stab wound to the stomach, and she’d claimed that she fell down the stairs with a knife.”

  FUCK YOU. How dare you? I screamed in my thoughts.

  The pain of losing our first child still stung. We’d lost our child…

  From the corner of my eye I noticed that Olivia stood up, took Ethan out of Coraline’s arms and walked over to the exit.

  “Sadly for Mr. Callahan, Melody didn’t die. The baby was gone, but she did not die. However, that wasn’t the last time Melody was hospitalized. In fact, she had taken a gunshot wound to shoulder. She had been in car accident. There was no explanation. How does a car accident equate to a gunshot wound? Coincidentally, Melody was pregnant again. This time, Mr. Callahan knew what to do. The way to get his freedom back, was to get rid of her. Only moments after giving birth, Melody disappeared. The only people who could have been there were her doctors and Mr. Callahan himself.”

  You are going to pay. I was going to make sure you spent your entire life regretting this one long ass fucking opening statement.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, her blood was found on his clothing and his boots. Witnesses will testify to his anger, hospital logs will show Melody’s suffering. Do not let that man in the fancy suit fool you. Liam Callahan murdered his wife. We don’t have body; we wish we did so that her son could at least have that. But money can buy you a lot of twisted things in this world. Liam Callahan wanted to wipe Melody off the face of the earth, and he thought he could get away with it. Don’t let him walk away from this. Melody Nicci Giovanni-Callahan needs justice. Baby Ethan Callahan needs justice.” He turned and walked to his seat next to his proud peers.

  He’s using my fucking son?

  The blood in my veins felt as though it would boil over at any moment. What made it worse was the fact that the jury actually looked as though they were believing his bullshit. They all looked towards the screen, staring at her picture sadly. He let it hang there for a few seconds before he finally clicked it off.

  DiMarco stood, w
alking forward, his bald head shining as he wiped the corners of his mouth and shook his head. “That opening statement you’ve just heard is the very essence of this case; no facts, all assumptions, made against my client, Liam Callahan, because of two things: he’s rich, and he has a past. That is why the state of Illinois wants to lock him away for life, for something he did not do. Mr. Callahan has never shied away from his past. In fact, he and his wife joked about it openly to the press. The difference with Mel was the fact that he loves her.

  “Mr. Callahan told me not to call her Melody because she hates that. The prosecution doesn’t know her. If they did, they’d know that Mel was a proud owner of a gun and often went hunting. She enjoyed opera though she couldn’t sing to save her life, but did anyway just because Liam Callahan told her he loved her voice. Every last person who is close to Mel stands by my client; they believe he is innocent. All the evidence the prosecution will attempt to present is nothing but circumstantial at best.

  “There is no smoking gun. There is no crime scene. This is just another case of the Chicago Police Department failing to protect its citizens and searching for a scapegoat. I ask all of you; do you really trust the police in this city? After everything they’ve failed to do?” Turning back to the screen he clicked and again a photo of Mel appeared.

  “This photo is upsetting, I cannot imagine what my client must be feeling knowing that his wife is still out there, but he cannot search for her. He can’t help to find his wife because the Chicago Police Department gave up their search and pointed a finger at him. This isn’t justice. This is a witch hunt, and I will not let an innocent man be burned at the stake for the prosecution and the state department to give themselves a pat on the back. Tell them to do their jobs. Tell them to find Mel, because Liam Callahan did not kill his wife. Liam Callahan is an innocent man. He and his family need justice.”

  He confidently walked back to our area before taking a seat beside me.

  Staring at her photo, the lump in my throat wouldn’t disappear. Turning away, I looked at the door. People came in and some left. But none were her.

  Where the fuck are you, Mel?

  *****

  “Please state your name for the record,” the prosecutor told the blonde haired woman on the stand.

  “Dr. Amy Lewis,” she leaned into the microphone.

  “Dr. Lewis, you were Melody Callahan’s doctor, correct?”

  “Yes. I was there during her first pregnancy.”

  “Can you take us through the incident that happened the very first time you met Mr. Callahan two years ago?”

  She looked at me and then glanced over at the jury. “That night, his wife came in with the stab wound to the stomach. She was in surgery, and Mr. Callahan was angry. He took me by the neck and slammed me into a wall.”

  Fuck me.

  DiMarco sat up a little straighter in his chair, and flipped through his papers.

  “Did Mr. Callahan say anything to you?”

  “Objection!” DiMarco stood. “Relevance?”

  “Your Honor, Dr. Lewis is here to testify to Mr. Callahan’s character, I do believe that is relevant.” He glared back.

  “I agree,” the judge said looking to DiMarco. “Overruled.”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Lewis, as you were saying, what did Mr. Callahan say to you?”

  Nodding, her hands reached for her throat. “He said something along the lines of ‘I will rip your head from your shoulders, you classless, low life, idiotic bitch.’ That he owned the hospital and owned this city.”

  Oh that bitch.

  The jury turned to me with shock and distaste coloring their eyes.

  The prosecutor looked to the jury. “So he threatened you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you believe he meant what he said?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Lewis. Your witness,” the prosecutor said to DiMarco.

  Rising from the chair, he fixed his jacket. “That must have been scary. Did you call the police, Dr. Lewis?”

  Leaning back, all I could do was glare into her eyes. She looked trapped as she tried her best to look away from me.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “But you just told these people that he threatened you, that you truly believed what he said, why didn’t you call the police?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? Why don’t you know you? It seems simple; a man threatens your life, you call the police.”

  “Objection! Badgering the witness!” The prosecutor all but jumped out of his seat.

  “Sustained. Mr. DiMarco please allow the witness to answer your questions,” the judge said, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. If this was “badgering the witness,” Dr. Lewis should find religion and fast, because after this was over, I had no doubt we would be meeting again.

  “Of course, Your Honor,” DiMarco said. “Dr. Lewis, while Mrs. Callahan was losing her baby, fighting for her life, were you or were you not trying to flirt with Mr. Callahan?”

  Her mouth dropped open and her eyes almost fell out of her head.

  “I…I…No…I…”

  “So you did not place your hand on Mr. Callahan’s arm and offer to do ‘anything’?” he pushed.

  She swallowed as she shook her head. “He may have misunderstood, I was trying to comfort him—”

  “Instead of helping his wife,” he cut her off.

  “There were more than enough people working on her.”

  “Were you assigned to Mrs. Callahan’s case then?”

  She sighed loudly. “No, I was in the wing when he came in—”

  “So you approached him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he seem distraught?”

  “Yes, that’s why I went to him!” she snapped quickly. “He looked like he was going to break down at any moment.”

  “Because he loved his wife and was worried?”

  She stopped for a second and nodded. “Yes. I guess so.”

  “Dr. Lewis, did Mr. Callahan threaten anyone else at the hospital?”

  Her head dropped as she stared at her hands. “No.”

  “These are Mrs. Callahan’s X-Rays taken after she lost her baby, correct?” DiMarco clicked, and on to the screen x-rays of Mel’s chest, hand and legs appeared.

  Dr. Lewis looked slightly confused, as she leaned in to see before she nodded. “Yes, those are hers.”

  “And how do you know?”

  “The old breaks in her left radius, right tibia, and long with the healed breaks in her proximal phalanx.”

  “Proximal phalanx?”

  “Those are the bones in her hands.”

  “Yes, of course. And what about her rib cage?” he asked as he clicked to another picture.

  “More of the same, healed breaks along fifth, sixth, and seventh ribs.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not a forensic anthropologist, but I would say anywhere between twelve to fourteen years ago for some of them.”

  “At which time Mr. Callahan could not possibly have—”

  “Objection! Beyond the scope!” the prosecutor yelled. “There is no way Dr. Lewis can testify to that.”

  Are you fucking kidding me? She can say I scared her but she can’t fucking testify using her bloody medical degree?

  “Your Honor—”

  “Sustained. Please keep it on the facts, Mr. DiMarco,” the judge stated, and I was torn between screaming and taking a bat to her little head.

  Maybe both.

  “Why would someone have those types of breaks, Dr. Lewis? Could it possibly be that she was a fighter?”

  “Objection—”

  “No further questions, Your Honor,” DiMarco said as he walked back over to me. The good doctor quickly got off the stand, trying her best not to look at me.

  “Your Honor, the defense would like to call to the stand Fedel Morris,” DiMarco said reading from his paper.

  I w
asn’t even aware that any of our men were in the room, but there he was, dressed in his Sunday best. It was odd how everyone seemed to look the same. I’d been away for five months, and the only two people who looked different were Ethan and myself.

  DiMarco stepped forward again. “Please state your name for the record.”

  “Fedel Gino Morris.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Morris. I’ll get right to it, how long have you worked for the Giovanni family?”

  “A little over a decade.” He looked bored.

  “So you would know why she was so badly hurt?”

  “Yes, I can testify to being the reason for at least one of her broken hands,” he snickered.

  “You broke her hand?”

  “More like she broke it against my jaw once.”

  She’d probably done it more than once.

  “Was she violent? Why did she hit you?” he asked him before looking to the jury.

  “We trained together. She spent years learning to defend herself. Her father didn’t want her to be a victim for any reason.”

  “And if Mr. Callahan had put a hand on her…”

  “She would be sitting in his place right now.”

  “You have a lot of confidence in her.”

  “Objection! Is there a question in there somewhere?”

  This motherfucking prosecutor was working my last fucking nerve.

  “Excuse me, Your Honor, let me rephrase,” DiMarco replied. “Why do you have so much confidence in Mel?”

  “She’s a fighter, always has been, always will be. She isn’t some weak abused Stepford wife that allows her husband to take advantage of her. And if in some twisted reality Mr. Callahan was hurting her, I can say without a doubt that he would not be sitting here today.”

  Well that’s comforting, and here I thought I’d been making progress with her people.