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A pretty flight attendant stands at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the plane’s body. Mr. Atwater and Dr. Delroy don’t wait around and immediately climb the stairs. We all decide to follow, and once inside, we find seats together.
I have only flown a couple of times, and it was only commercial. Looking around at the spacious, high-quality interior makes me appreciate this method of travel.
Once everyone is seated, the flight attendant lifts and secures the door and runs through a quick safety check. The plane begins to move just as she finishes her speech, taking a seat close to the cockpit. We sit on the runway for a few minutes, waiting for our turn. As the engine begins to get louder, gravity forces me back into my seat, and we start gaining speed and eventually lifting off the ground.
Once we are in the air and everyone has settled in, the guys do their best to keep me distracted.
“Kennedy, you need to explain what a tunnel monster is. You referred to traffic times and said about it needing to be fed. What sort of monster lives in Pittsburgh?”
Letting out a snort of laughter, my head shakes a little as I start into my story.
“There are three sets of tunnels around Pittsburgh, each cutting through a hillside. The Squirrel Hill Tunnel comes from the east side of town. The Liberty Tunnels, often called the Liberty Tubes, come from the city’s southern area. The last set is the Fort Pitt Tunnels. They run out to the western side of the city. Each side has two lanes, and as you enter the tunnel, traffic moves as it should. However, people can’t handle driving through them, and they panic. So, they either slow down or straight up hit the brakes. Once they get far enough through and see daylight again, they speed back up. The joke is that the tunnel monster is out and stopping traffic because it is hungry. The worst part is the same people commute into and out of the city daily for work,” I state with laughter at the looks on their faces.
“What else can you tell us about Pittsburgh?” Rodney asks.
A soft smile crosses my face as they continue to ask questions about my hometown, all as a distraction.
CHAPTERFIFTY
As we get closer to Pittsburgh, the conversation fades into the background, as my head is elsewhere. The aircraft is starting to drop in altitude, and Asthon asks something about an amusement park. The awe in Asthon’s voice would make you think he has never been to one.
Once the plane lands, we exit, gathering our luggage and walking through a small terminal. Stepping into the bright sunlight, another limousine is parked at the curb. It takes another fifteen minutes to load all the bags and us into the limo.
Ashton continues his conversation with some of what he sees through the car window.
Continuing through traffic, we cross a river. Ashton’s voice is the main noise in the car as the rest of us are lost in thought. The little bit I have paid attention to has brought a smile to my face.
“Kennedy, what river is this?”
She lets out a laugh like there is another joke here.
“This is the Monongahela River.” She holds her hand up, cutting Ashton off as he opens his mouth to speak. “The name of this river is one of the most butchered. It is sounded out Mo-non-ga-hey-la. We also have the town and university named D-u-q-u-e-s-n-e; it is pronounced doo-cane.”
Focusing on Ashton, he opens and closes his mouth several times. Kennedy’s smile at his antics is worth putting up with his incessant chatter.
“Give it up; you aren’t going to be able to say either one,” Kennedy says with a laugh.
We enter downtown about ten minutes later, stopping in front of an awning attached to a light-colored stone building. We climb out, grabbing our luggage. Our fathers disappeared inside, leaving the rest of us on the sidewalk. Kennedy stares blankly down the street, all laughter gone from her features, her body rigid. We surround her, giving her the support she needs.
“What is it, Duchess?” I ask softly.
It takes her a minute to answer, and when she does, you hear the sadness in her tone.
“That building, across the street, at the end of the block… That is the courthouse. That is where we will be Monday.”
We stand there, none of us sure what to say or do. We are blocking the sidewalk, forcing people to move around us. Kennedy gives herself a shake before spinning her heel and heading inside. I cast one more look over my shoulder at the imposing structure before following inside.
CHAPTERFIFTY-ONE
The weekend went by too fast. We did a few touristy things around the city. Seeing it all through fresh eyes brought a smile to my face. The effort each of the guys put into keeping me distracted is appreciated. Any downtime was spent preparing myself for what information would be uncovered during the upcoming trial.
It’s now Monday morning, and we are getting ready to head to court. Mr. Worthington and Samual Johnson didn’t find it necessary for me to be here for jury selection last week. It was no skin off my nose to miss that circus.
Our group gathers in the lobby of the hotel. Private security has been hired to get us through the mob of press that lines the sidewalk in front of the courthouse. Mr. Worthington gives us a pep talk and instructions before we step out the door. Gareth is on my left, and Kassidy is on my right. Ashton and Callum flank Rodney just in front of us. The fathers are behind us, and security is surrounding all of us. Rodney and I are the two most isolated, expecting the press to approach us the most.
It’s obvious when we get spotted crossing Grant Street. The camera crews and reporters make a mad dash in our direction. We gather closer together, Gareth and Kassidy each taking one of my hands. I squeeze each one in return, drawing strength from them. My father’s words repeat through my head. Stiffening my spine and blanking my face, I let their words roll off my back.
Most of the questions they yell out aren’t much different than the ones they yelled in Franklin for the preliminary. They have added a few regarding John Robinson. Other than that, none of them have come up with anything original. John Robinson is not my concern right now. Mr. Worthington has made sure of it.
