A Good Mother by Lara Bazelon (classic books to read .TXT) 📕

“What was she screaming?”

“I don’t think it was words.”

“Was she attempting to render first aid or help the victim in any way?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I felt this squishing where my feet were. I looked down and I was standing in a pool of blood.”

“How big was it?”

“Maybe twelve inches across and twice that length and about half an inch deep.” Aronson gestures with his hands. “The blood was coming out of Sergeant Hollis’s chest—pumping out onto the floor and spreading out. It was very dark blood and it was starting to get thick, kind of like a gel.”

“Did you see any weapons?”

“Next to the body, in the pool of blood, there was a steak knife.”

“What did you do?”

“I kicked it away with my foot.”

“Away from whom?”

“Mrs. Rivera Hollis.”

“With the court’s permission, at this time the government would ask that Exhibit 1 be marked and placed before the witness.” Dars inclines his head and Shauna withdraws a black-handled kitchen knife, wrapped several times in plastic and tagged. She walks solemnly to the witness box and hands the knife to Aronson, blade down.

“Captain Aronson, can you describe the object you are holding.”

“It’s a steak knife, with a five-inch blade.”

“What is on the knife?”

“Blood. All over the blade and on part of the black handle.”

“Is this the knife you found in a pool of the victim’s blood that you kicked with your foot so that Mrs. Rivera Hollis could not grab it?”

“Objection.”

“Overruled.”

Aronson puts down the knife. “Yes.”

“Okay. After you removed the weapon from the defendant’s reach, what did you do?”

“I turned so I was facing her, facing him. It was obvious just by looking that Sergeant Hollis was severely injured, possibly dying, but there was also Mrs. Rivera Hollis and the baby I had to think about. The baby was still crying but I didn’t know where the baby was. There was so much blood, Mrs. Rivera Hollis’s shirt and lap were soaked in it, and I asked her, ‘Are you hurt, is the baby hurt?’ She shook her head to indicate no. She was still screaming, though, not moving, so I half picked her up and kind of pushed her over to one side so I could get to Hollis. I pulled out my cell phone to call 911 and she shook her head again, like for me to put it away, and then I could actually hear the ambulance, right then, so I knew they were coming—that she must have called them already. And a few seconds after that, I could hear the police sirens and I knew my officers were almost there, as well. I figured I had maybe one minute, two minutes to do what I could.”

“What did you do?”

“I turned Sergeant Hollis over on his side so he didn’t choke on his own blood. I felt for his pulse. There was one, but it was faint. I kept my fingers on his wrist and I checked his airway. It was hard for me to hear over the screaming and I told Mrs. Rivera Hollis that she had to—I said something to the effect of ‘You have to stop screaming.’ When she didn’t, I yelled, ‘Luz,’ real loud, and she looked at me and went quiet. She tried to get up, and I said, ‘Stay there,’ also in a very loud voice.”

Abby feels something brush against her sleeve. A note from Will. She scans it. How did he know her first name?

Abby looks up quickly as Aronson continues his answer. “To my mind, this was a crime scene and she, quite possibly, had committed a crime. I didn’t want her doing anything that might compromise the crime scene. I didn’t want her to destroy evidence. I was pretty sure by that point the baby was okay, just crying, and anyway I didn’t want her picking up the baby covered in blood.”

Abby reads the note a second time.

Shauna is nodding approvingly at Aronson, her arms crossed over her chest. “You were saying that you turned your attention to the victim?”

“Yes, but you have to understand, this is all happening in seconds. Every action is very, very fast. At this point I had been in the house maybe under a minute. I bent my ear to Sergeant Hollis’s mouth and I could hear him breathing but it was very slow, labored. And as I am listening, the breathing changes into a—almost like a snoring sound. I say to Mrs. Rivera Hollis, ‘How many times was he stabbed?’ and she just kind of stares at me, so I yell her name again, ‘Luz,’ real loud, and I repeat my question.”

Shauna nods, turns a page in her binder.

Abby looks at Aronson. A commander in charge of hundreds of MPs and their families. How did he know her first name? She turns the note over, scribbles a few sentences and hands the paper to Luz, who reads it, then slowly begins to write out her response.

“What happened after you repeated your question to Mrs. Rivera Hollis asking how many times she had stabbed her husband?” Shauna asks.

“She tells me, ‘In the chest, one time,’ and so I find the wound and I start applying pressure to stop the bleeding.”

“Were you able to stop the bleeding?”

“No. And while that’s happening, I lose his pulse. I can’t feel it anymore. I keep pressing down thinking maybe I’m wrong, but still nothing. And then, he makes a rattling sound. At that point, I grabbed hold of his hand and I held it.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I wanted Sergeant Hollis to know, to the extent that he could know anything, that he wasn’t alone. And I knew—from my experience, I knew it was very important that I be able to say to his mother that someone was holding his hand when he took his last breath.”

There is a sudden silence in the courtroom, like they have all momentarily stopped breathing. Luz has dropped the pen. Her face is white, her small shoulders turned inward,