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The next morning, we were out the door by eight, but I still felt like a zombie. We met Frank and began our prep for the afternoon session. Somehow, I got through everything and felt mildly better about what was about to happen. I just needed all this behind me.
By four-thirty, I was standing outside the courtroom full of people waiting to hear my statement on all that had happened with Ben Oliver. The only positive thing that came from the previous night besides Ben being caught was that Frank was able to pull some strings to put me on the stand today instead of having to return in a week or so. We all hoped Ben would be declared unfit for trial, but it remained to be seen what he’d end up being charged with.
“I have to ask this,” Frank glanced at Ty quickly, “but they’ll ask questions you might not want Beckett hearing the answers to. This is your last chance to decide if you want him in there. How much you want your boyfriend to know?” I nearly blushed that Frank knew Ty and I were dating. “Give me a little credit, Ivy, I’ve known him for a few years now, and you’re the first woman I’ve seen him with.” I sneaked a glance at Ty, who watched me intently. “Just know this. These guys will try to twist what you say to work in Ben’s favor.”
“I can handle it.” I set my face, and Frank nodded at Ty to come over.
“You can be there, but no matter how nasty they come at her, you say and do nothing. Don’t give them a reason to come at you, too, Beckett.”
“Copy that.” Ty was all business as he turned to me. “No matter what happens in there, he can’t touch you because he’d have to get through me first.”
“Okay.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and reached over to squeeze his hand one last time to ground me.
“All right, let’s go.” Frank opened the door, and we walked in. Whispers hummed as my heels clicked on the wood floor. Ty, who was in front of me, took a seat while I continued to the witness stand. I held up my right hand and placed my left on the Bible. I took the oath to promise to tell the truth, then on wobbly legs lowered to the chair. I’d been in court before but never like this. This affected me in such a personal way. I inched toward the mic and rolled my chair closer, so I didn’t have to strain my neck. I glanced at Ty, who sat next to Frank near the wall with a few others. Introductions were made, and within ten minutes it was my time to share what really happened that night.
“Please start from the beginning, Dr. Knight,” I was urged to begin. “Tell us how you met Mr. Oliver and what happened after.”
I nodded and licked my lips, suddenly glad for all the prep Frank had put me through.
“Ben Oliver was assigned to me two tours ago. We had six sessions in total. After his first tour, I determined that although he had a few problems with what he’d experienced, it wasn’t anything beyond the usual stress soldiers feel after a tour in Afghanistan. I had no reason to think he was unfit for duty. I told him I wanted to see him as soon as he got back.” I took a sip of water. “However, after the last tour, I wasn’t prepared to sign off on Mr. Oliver. Something had definitely changed. He showed signs of extreme PTSD and displayed some aggression toward his family.”
“Such as?” my advocate asked, and I closed my eyes and unlocked the memory.
“Welcome back, Private Oliver.” I wasn’t expecting him. I stood from behind my desk and approached him with my hand out, but I dropped it when he didn’t take it. He’d been escorted in by one of the soldiers who patrolled the floor. As I closed the door, I noticed my secretary was packing up her desk. It was late in the day, and she often left early on Thursdays to pick her son up from her ex-husband.
I instantly picked up on his frazzled state when he arrived. His boots and pantlegs were muddy, and his hands were stained. He perched on the edge of the seat on the far-left side of the couch. On previous visits he’d sat on the right, closer to me. He sat upright and rested his hands on his knees then cleared his throat a few times but made no attempt to speak. Suddenly, his eyes flicked around the room.
I was instantly on high alert.
“I can only give you a few minutes, Ben.” I eyed his obvious distress. “How are you?” I asked as I sat in my chair and used my thumb to open my tablet to take notes. He shrugged, and I held his intense gaze. “Okay, just give me three words on where you’re at.”
“Irritated, frustrated, and pissed.”
I used my pen to draw the line to number nine on the mood scale. I gave his appearance another quick glance and decided to wait to ask about it.
“Want to tell me why?”
“It’s Jennifer’s parents. They’re getting all up in my face. Meddling where they don’t belong again.”
“Why this time?”
“And who is she to tell me to pick between the Army and my marriage?” he shouted, and I slid the line from the nine to the ten.
“She, meaning?”
“Jennifer,” he grunted at me like I was stupid, “my dumb bitch of a wife. She saw what it was like over there, she saw the bullshit that happened to my team.”
I quickly scribbled, expressing signs of psychosis.
“But how could she see that, Ben? She wasn’t on your tour. She was back here in Washington waiting for you to come home.” I tried to steer him back.
“What?” He shook his head. “No, she was there. Until I found her in bed with Private Jimson.”
“You caught your wife cheating on you?”
“Are you listening?” He leaned forward quickly, and I tried to hide my flinch. “Yes, the night I got home to the States, I caught Jennifer in Jimson’s bed.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
