Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Finally, she looked up at Dirk and nodded. “I’m ready to go when you are.”
“Let’s head home, sweetheart,” he encouraged her.
They were almost at the front door when Terry caught them. “Cynthia, what would you like me to do with her clothing and effects?”
Without hesitation, Cynthia answered, “Share them with anyone who needs or appreciates them. Donate or trash whatever remains.”
“Do you want me to call when she passes?” Terry asked.
Cynthia shook her head and replied, “She’s not there now. Thank you for taking care of her until the end.”
The nursing assistant nodded and turned as a resident called her name.
Dirk guided Cynthia out the front door and to his car. He remained quiet, allowing her to think during the return trip to his house. She appreciated his warm hand on her knee. It helped with the shivers running through her body. Sighing deeply as he parked in the garage, Cynthia tried to shake off the pain of her relationship with her mother.
“Let’s go make some good memories to help the old ones fade away,” Dirk suggested.
“I’d like that.”
Exiting the car, Dirk rounded the hood to open her door and help Cynthia from the vehicle. “Do you have anything else you’d like to do?” he asked.
“Make cookies,” she announced.
“Is that something we can do together?” he asked with a surprised expression.
“Definitely.”
“Let’s change clothes and make some cookies.”
CHAPTER 16
Cynthia clutched the edges of the table as they waited for the trial to resume. Dirk shifted next to her and pulled something out of his suit jacket pocket, placing it in front of her. She blinked at the sight of the plastic-wrapped cookie decorated so badly with purple and pink frosting. Her Daddy had truly tried to create something beautiful but failed miserably with great humor. They’d had so much fun making the treats.
She glanced up at him, feeling the corners of her lips turn up at the memory.
“Decorating cookies isn’t my thing. Closing arguments? They’re what I do best. Trust your Daddy.”
Letting the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding out in a long gust, Cynthia tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach. “I trust you. I just don’t know if I can trust them.”
“All rise.” The bailiff’s directions prevented Dirk’s response.
Within minutes, the prosecuting attorney delivered her closing arguments. She was convincing and wove the facts of the case together until Cynthia almost scooted lower in her chair. Only her Daddy’s presence kept her from being overwhelmed.
She watched him stand and walk to the jury box. Dirk paused to make eye contact with each member of the jury before speaking.
“Hearing the prosecution’s case against Cynthia Grant, you would expect that she is a hardened criminal who deliberately set out to fleece Edgewater Industries of all they owned. Someone hated by the company she betrayed. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case. During the course of the trial, over two hundred Edgewater Industries employees have attended a morning or afternoon session to support Cynthia. Those visitors include everyone from the CEO down. How do I know? Here is a signup sheet organized by the employees and posted in the cafeteria.”
Dirk paused to pull out a thick packet of papers from his jacket pocket. “They are here today wearing Cynthia’s favorite color—yellow.”
Everyone in the courtroom, including Cynthia, turned to see a yellow ribbon pinned to everyone’s clothing behind her. They sat in silent support, causing no disruption. Tears sprang to Cynthia’s eyes, and she mouthed, “Thank you,” to the familiar faces who’d chosen to attend.
“Cynthia has never lied. Coerced and manipulated by a threat to implicate her in the murder of two people she loved, Cynthia believed that flash drive would cause nothing more than a small ripple in the Edgewater Industries operations—an annoyance. She had no way of knowing that it contained such a disastrous virus.”
Everyone’s gaze was riveted on Dirk as he walked over to pick up the decorated cookie. “Guess what this hardened criminal wanted to do last night? Cynthia Grant and I made cookies. My decorating skills left a lot to be desired,” he shared with a laugh as he displayed the treat.
“Cynthia’s were beautiful. I wanted to eat them, but she sent them to a local nursing home for the residents and the staff to brighten their days. Some of mine went along for the ride and I hope there are giggles at the torturous decorations I created.”
He set the cookie back on the desk. “As you deliberate, I’d like you to put yourself in Cynthia’s shoes. Picture yourself as a young woman, alone in the world, who creates soul-satisfying food to care for others. Consider the support of the company she supposedly so ruthlessly attacked. They’ve known Cynthia for the longest time. Would they consider her an evil cyber mastermind or a cookie creator?”
Clearing his throat, he continued, “The law is clear. Cybercriminals must be stopped. But who committed this crime? The creator of the virus contained on the flash drive, or the young woman manipulated into plugging it into the computer? Who should go to jail for the crime? A cookie maker or the virus maker? Do we have the right person on trial for this crime?”