"Hello Mrs. Oldin, my name is Nigel Summons, I am-"

"My attorney. I know full well who you are and what you are doing here. Now listen to me for just a moment honey will you, save your breath and let your boss assign you to someone who has some sort of a mild chance of winning and not being sent off to the gas chamber. Okay?"

"Mrs. Oldin." The attorney looked almost as though he was giddy and jumping out of his skin at this opportunity to work with her as he stood on the other side of her cell bars. "I chose to take this case and I'm going to need your full support and co-operation if we're to win this case."

"We're not going to win," Elizabeth answered quickly pacing up and down the length of the thick metal bars in severe agitation of having nothing to keep her reeling mind occupied the entire time she was incarcerated in this hell. She stopped pacing for a moment and sat on the floor in front of the bars, crossing her legs one underneath the other much like young children do at school.

Elizabeth sat in silence and looked up at the man that had chosen to represent her. Letting her cursed gift loose on the man she eyed him up and down taking in his every detail. He had plain and almost boring dark hair that was full and very neatly trimmed, pale skin and almost pasty like he never drank enough water and he had deep, dark and haunting eyes. Carrying a standard black leather briefcase in one hand he had a hard fold out chair tucked under his arm. However much of a handsome cotton blend suit and white shirt he wore, the tie was covered in small cartoon characters that looked somewhat like monsters and clashed horribly with the gray overcoat.

"Funny," she said staring blankly at the tie, still seated comfortably on the ground on her side of the bars.

"What's that?" Nigel asked folding out the chair he had been given by one of the policemen and taking a seat in front of her, eager to start his questioning.

The press coverage on Elizabeth's case was already endless and there was no one else in the criminal defense office that he worked for that wanted to touch this case with a ten foot barge pole except Nigel. He had walked into his boss's office the second he heard that it was up for grabs and was ready to beg for it.

"I never thought the colour gray could clash with anything, but that tie you're wearing around your skinny little neck just, wow. It really pulls that trick off in such a terrible way that I don't think I will ever look at gray the same way again."

"Mrs. Oldin, your counselor-"

"Psychologist," Elizabeth snapped moodily for a reason that she didn't even understand, the agitation underneath her skin still growing.

"Yes, Dr. Wallace, we've been chatting and he tells me you are quite good at depicting things about people by just looking at them. It's almost as though it comes as something like a gift to you."

In a flicker of a movement at the word 'gift' she jerked her head just a fraction of an inch to the side and sat up just a little straighter. It was no 'gift' and she knew it full well. Nigel now had claimed Elizabeth's attention though and she nodded, still looking up at him.

"Tell me what you see in me."

"I can't actually tell much about 'you' as such, but more what your life is like and choices you make. Personality does shine through somewhat, but I can't get down to the nitty-gritty stuff as such." People were always interested in Elizabeth's little 'gift' and wanted to see her work her magic on them.

"Well go for it." Nigel smiled politely and folded one of his long legs over the other as he watched her.

Elizabeth looked up at him with one eyebrow cocked in amusement, wondering whether or not to trust this man who seemed like he wanted so very desperately to plead her case. "You don't get out much," she said in a direct voice, looking her attorney up and down. "Strictly a 'career man' as they say. I can tell that through your deathly pale skin that hasn't eased any colour into it since you sat down. I thought it might just be slight nervousness but it very obviously isn't, not much sun in those bleak little offices is there Nigel?"

"No there's not," Nigel responded with a crooked smile.

"You're younger than you look, but have been through some stressful things in your life, you're..." she broke off and clicked her fingers staring into space and searching her vocabulary for the right word. "'Experienced' is what they call it. I can see that from those wonderful little grays shining through your still thick hair. You're married, wedding ring of course, and forgive me for this but you did ask for it so either your Mother died when you were still quite young and your Father had to dress you as you grew up, or you have a young child who likes to buy you funny little neck ties and cologne. Please tell me it was a child who brought that tie and cologne for you."

"Yes my daughter buys them for me. I've never asked her why, it's always the same cologne though, every Christmas and a tie that I always cherish. Thank you for that Mrs. Oldin that was quite interesting. Now let's get serious for a minute or two if you don't mind too much. I need you to describe to me, in as much detail as you just described my life, what happened to you on that night?"

"God damn it I already told all the cops that couldn't resist hearing my side of the story!" In an instant Elizabeth was on her feet and started pacing the room once again. The very little patience she had left was running out quickly and the deep resentful anger was back with a vengeance. "I've been here for two damn weeks now and I've told my story to every fucking pig that works here day in and god damn day out. Why do I have to explain it again, to you? You're no bloody better!" She stopped for a moment to kick her foot out at the thin mattress on her bed and began pacing again.

"Because I'm determined on winning this case Elizabeth," Nigel said calmly as he watched her irritation manifest.

Elizabeth suddenly stopped pacing and turned around to look at the man who was fighting so hard to work with her. She walked forward and gripped the bars tightly in her hands; she bent forward from the hips so her head was level with his. She stood in this somewhat defensive position for almost a whole minute and looked deep into Nigel Summons' dark eyes, trying to find a hidden agenda. As she looked deeper and deeper within him she found that the determination he was speaking of was indeed real. She nodded her head easing her glare, sick to death with the games the officers liked to play, but all the same just wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. "Okay, fine."

"Great. Let's start from the beginning then."

* * * * * 

It was another two weeks after their first conversation and Nigel was once again at the precinct, this time waiting to go to the courthouse with Elizabeth.

"Mrs. Oldin, are you ready?" he asked her quietly through the bars not wanting to be heard by others. Elizabeth was busy fixing her bushy and untamed hair with a small black comb he had very sneakily and silently slipped her 5 minutes previous.

"Ready Nigel? For what exactly? Being a victim of a crime I didn't commit? Sure, bring the fucking thing on," Elizabeth defensively replied as she passed the small comb back through the bars to him just before the police made their way over.

One officer asked her to slip her hands through the bars jointly and he cuffed them together. The second officer then stepped inside the cell with her and attached the handcuffs around her wrists to a waist chain that he pulled tightly around her, and then shackled both her skinny little ankles together.

"Don't worry, we'll have you out of those completely unflattering coveralls in no time Mrs. O. I'm sure you would love to get back into a nice summery dress instead of that bright orange."

Elizabeth closed her bright green eyes in complete disgust at the thought of a floral dress then opened them again with a glare and shooting daggers at her lawyer. "Just do me one favour Nigel."

"What's that?"

"Don't ever call me Mrs. O. again." Her voice was low and incredibly deadly. "Got it?"

Nigel nodded his head enthusiastically, trying to make a joke of it. "Sure thing."

As Elizabeth walked step by very small step out of the cell and into the hallway with the two policemen holding her arms and Nigel following closely behind them, everything seemed to go in super slow motion. Deep in the pit of her stomach Elizabeth tried to encourage herself that something good would eventually come out of all this, like she would get off somehow. But she knew the evidence against her was far too strong and there was no one that could speak as a witness for her.

They walked out the front doors of the police station and were immediately bombarded by large media cameras flashing hundreds of times and a thousand microphones were stuck in front of their faces.

"Mrs. Oldin, what are you pleading?"

"Mrs. Oldin, did you kill your husband and son?"

"Mr. Summons, have you handled a case like this before?"

"No questions please." Nigel managed to get in front of Elizabeth and yell over the roar of voices as they pushed their way through the crowd of screaming questions. Together the four of them made their way to the black unmarked police car that was waiting at the verge. "No questions, thank you!"

Elizabeth raised her head for a moment and looked straight into one of the cameras. Seeing the camera aimed directly at her instinct kicked in and Elizabeth attempted to smile. An innocent and almost pleading smile covered her face as the flash went off and the picture of a guiltless and beautiful young woman being pulled along by the police was set to go down in history.

They reached the car after what felt like an eternity of fighting through the press and one of the policemen slid into the backseat with Elizabeth, the other one got in the front with Nigel. She noticed a sweet and almost delicate scent of cologne from the middle-aged officer sitting next to her on the seat. His uniform was still perfectly pressed after the hustle through the crowd of flashing cameras and exposed microphones, his hair was short and blonde, only just starting to recede.

"I've got a really good feeling about this one Elizabeth," Nigel stated turning around in his seat to look at her.

The policeman that was driving scoffed loudly and made no attempt to hide it. The one sitting next to Elizabeth rolled his eyes at the immense inappropriateness of what his co-worker had just done and turned to the window, not wanting to be drawn into any sort of argument that seemed rather likely to erupt.

Elizabeth just looked forward through the bars and out the windscreen and smiled to herself. In her mind all she was willing herself to think was, 'I'm getting out.' But no matter how she changed those words around in her mind, no matter how many times she said them to herself, she still didn't believe a single word of it.

Little did she understand that it was the fact that she wore that almost happy smile on her face that made it seem like she actually enjoyed her one-month stay in the local prison lock up after she was denied bail. It was that smile she willed herself to smile that sentenced her to death before she even walked into the courtroom.

If she had have smiled the innocent smile the media camera outside the police station had caught then there was a high chance that things may have been very different. But this smile was almost happy, challenging others to wipe it off her face.

They arrived outside the courthouse ten minutes later; the condemning smile on Elizabeth's face hadn't faded yet.

After another fight through media cameras and microphones and endless questions that wouldn't be answered, they walked through to their courtroom and took their respective seats, waiting for the Judge to arrive.

"All rise for the Honourable Judge McCarthy," the middle aged officer standing in front of the door to the Judge's chambers said in a deep booming voice with his chest puffed out in pride.

A tall male Judge wearing his long white powdered wig and long dark robes walked into the courtroom and sat down on his huge throne-like chair that looked over the hushed room.

"Please be seated."

Elizabeth sat down and tried to keep her eyes on anything other than Brian who was sitting at the table opposite her. He was wearing a dark suit as though he were going to a funeral and Elizabeth continually found her gaze returning to the man who assassinated her family. She detested the way he sat there with a devilish smile on his face. Brian knew that all the evidence the detectives had found pointed directly to Elizabeth.

When no one else was watching, Brian would look back at Elizabeth and shake his head at her.

"Due to the extreme severity and sensitivity of this case we will be trailing here today, I am going to ask all media personnel to please leave the court room now," Judge McCarthy said in a very deep and strict voice, commanding respect and attention from everyone that heard it.

Everyone with either a camera or a microphone in their hands grumbled unhappily and made their individual ways to the now open doors before the guards would be ordered to throw them out.

"Now, on the case of Mrs. Oldin versus the state of Florida on one count of attempted murder and two counts of murder in the first degree, defense what are you pleading?"

Nigel stood up straightening his brown tweed suit and addressed the court. "Your honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as we stated previously we are pleading not guilty to one count of attempted murder, and again not guilty to two counts of murder in the first degree. We hold to this plea."

"Very well." As he looked over to the prosecution table, Elizabeth noticed that Judge McCarthy's burning gaze seemed as though it could incinerate a person on the spot if he were to concentrate hard enough. "Prosecutor, you may call your first witness."

"We call, the Oldin's neighbor of seven years, Mrs. Greenway."

Elizabeth's eyes widened with fear at the mention of this name. Mrs. Greenway had always hated Elizabeth since the very day her and Jonathon had moved into their new home next to her, and she would surely show no remorse now.

The elderly lady placed her right hand on the bible as asked to by the courts man and swore in on the name of the almighty God. She was wearing a long dark green velveteen dress that she often wore to church on Sunday's and a huge red thatched hat that clashed horribly with the yellow fluffy scarf that was tied in a bow around her neck.

"Mrs. Greenway. Have you known Mr. and Mrs. Oldin for a long time?" the prosecutor asked in a calm and clear voice that cut through the room like a hot knife as he paced back and forth in front of the witness box.

Nodding her head the little old lady replied, "Yes sir, ever since they moved in together, seven years ago."

"Tell me, what do you think, or more properly what did you think of Mr. Oldin personality wise?" The man, who looked to be in his late forties, reached up a tanned and wrinkled hand and ran it through his dark and thinning hair before straightening his emerald green tie and waiting for a response from his witness.

"He was such a gentleman Mr. Oldin was," Mrs. Greenway said with a smile, clutching her large tapestry style handbag in her lap.

"And what about Mrs. Oldin, what do you think of her?"

"She's a brute," the old woman's tone was suddenly icy cold and relentless. "I don't know what he ever saw in that horrible woman."

"Why do you say that?" The prosecutor continued, pacing up and down along the witness box with a stern look on his aged face and pulled here and there at the coat of his charcoal coloured suit.

"She's always been like that. I always see her rushing her poor little son along to school 'hurry up' she would say to him even when they were early, then it was the same as she walked him home again in the afternoon, and the arguments her and her poor husband had. Oh lord those arguments. Morning, afternoon and night they would argue. Quite frankly, I'm surprised that something like this didn't happen earlier."

Elizabeth flinched and shied away from the entire courtroom, bowing her head to the desk, retreating back as far as she could into her chair at the memories of some of the last arguments with Jonathon and the beatings she had received afterwards.

"Thank you Mrs. Greenway. No more questions your honor."

"Does the defense wish to question?"

"No your honor," Nigel stated with a nod of his head.

"You may call your first witness then."

Standing to his feet Nigel addressed the court with, "the defense calls Mrs. Rose Lawson, Jonathon Oldin's sister and Mrs. Oldin's best friend."