Reasonable Doubt

By Linda Rettstatt

Nurse Gemma Wallace is held suspect when opioids go missing from the neighborhood clinic where she works. She’s questioned, but never arrested or charged because the police have no solid proof and an abundance of reasonable doubt. Still the suspicion hangs over her like a sword. This is just the tip of an iceberg that sends her life sinking around her.

In a moment of utter hopelessness, Gemma considers ending it—all of it. She’s pulled back from the edge by a woman who’s been to that same edge more than once. Through Collie, she meets the Mountain Mamas—four women who show Gemma the power of friendship and the truth that no one is free from doubts—reasonable or otherwise.

Gemma soon realizes the burden of proving her innocence falls to her. While she searches for the truth of what happened that day, other truths are revealed. Truths that erase doubts about herself that she’s carried for years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Rettstatt
• Release date: Jan 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005817565

Linda Rettstatt

Linda Rettstatt is a best-selling and award-winning author of Women’s Fiction and Mainstream Contemporary Romance. In March of 2012 her novel, LOVE, SAM, won the prestigious EPIC eBook Award for Mainstream Fiction. And in April, 2016, LADIES IN WAITING won the EPIC eBook Award for Contemporary Fiction. Rettstatt grew up in the small town of Brownsville in Southwestern Pennsylvania. After 20 years living and working in Mississippi, she has returned to the hills of PA to write and work as an editor.

Book preview

REASONABLE DOUBT

~ ~ ~

Linda Rettstatt

REASONABLE DOUBT

3rd Act Books

© 2022, Linda Rettstatt

Smashwords Edition

Front Cover Design: SelfPubBookCovers.com/ RLSather

Back Cover Design: Linda Rettstatt

All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution

of this copyrighted work, in whole or part,

by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is illegal

and forbidden.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, settings, names, and occurrences are

a product of the author’s imagination and bear

no resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, places or settings,

and/or occurrences. Any incidences of resemblance

are purely coincidental.

Chapter One

The distant chime of the doorbell dragged Gemma from sleep. She reached to her left. Mitch, are you awake?

Her husband’s side of the bed was empty. As she sat up and squinted at the clock, the insistent dinging continued. It was only seven-fifteen and Saturday morning. What the hell?

She got up, pulled on a robe, and stepped into her bedroom slippers. She padded down the stairs and peered through the security hole in the door. The detective who had questioned her yesterday at the clinic stood there and beside him stood a female uniformed police officer.

Gemma opened the door. Is something wrong?

I’m Detective McDonald. This is Officer Owens. May we come in?

I remember you, detective. Gemma opened the door wider and looked past them to see a line of four police cruisers and one unmarked vehicle parked at the curb. What’s all this?

I need for you to come down to the station for further questioning, the detective said.

I answered all of your questions yesterday at the clinic.

Yes, well, I have more questions. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a folded slip of paper. I also have a search warrant. While you go with us to the station, those other officers will be here conducting a search.

Search warrant? This is insane. Am I being arrested?

No, ma’am. You need to vacate the house during the search. And I have new information that I need to ask about. His gaze slid over her bathrobe and slippers. Officer Owens will go upstairs with you so you can get dressed.

I can get dressed on my own.

Not an option.

My daughter is asleep upstairs.

Do you have someone she can stay with? A neighbor perhaps.

Gemma felt cold all over. I’ll call my neighbor to come and get Brianna.

Thank you. The detective stepped aside to let the officer go with Gemma. The woman stood in the doorway to the bedroom and waited while Gemma picked up her cell phone from the nightstand. Gemma’s hands shook as she tried to scroll to Linda’s phone number.

Hello? What has you up so early?

The police are here. Look out your window.

Wait a sec.

Gemma heard her friend yawn and the creak of the bed. Oh, shit.

I need you to keep Bri while I go with them to answer more questions.

I’ll be right there.

Gemma picked up a pair of jeans that lay on the chair and rummaged in her dresser drawers for clean underwear. She pulled a blouse from the closet. I’ll get dressed in the bathroom if you don’t mind.

Yes, ma’am. But you’ll need to leave the door open.

Gemma used the toilet and stood at the sink to wash her face and her hands. She stared into the mirror. I’m not being arrested, so why do I feel like a criminal? Perhaps it was the uniformed police officer outside the open bathroom door.

She hastily dressed and brushed her hair, then brushed her teeth. In the bedroom, Gemma pocketed her phone and picked up her purse.

I’ll need to search the purse first, the officer said.

Gemma opened the zipper and dumped the contents onto the bed. While you do that, I’ll text my husband.

She assumed Mitch had gotten up early to golf. It was a beautiful Saturday morning. He wouldn’t have the ringer turned on if he was out on the golf course. Police came to take me to station to answer more questions. Bri with Linda. They are searching house.

The officer held up a pair of small manicure scissors. Can’t take these. The rest is okay.

Gemma shoved her wallet and the few other items back into her purse. I’m going to wake Bri and have her get dressed to go next door.

Gemma tapped on her daughter’s door, then opened it to peer inside. Her thirteen-year-old looked the way she had at three when sleeping—sprawled on the bed, splayed arms and legs, lips parted, and snoring softly. Gemma walked to the bed and sat on the edge. She rubbed a hand along Bri’s arm. Bri, baby, wake up.

Bri made an unintelligible sound and turned onto her side.

Gemma shook Bri’s shoulder. Come on, Bri. You have to get dressed and go next door with Linda.

Bri blinked. What? What time is it?

It’s early. Get dressed. I have to go and answer more questions for the police. Your dad isn’t here. You need to go with Linda. The police want to search our house.

Bri’s eyes opened wide, then she seemed to take it all in—the policewoman standing in the doorway. Mom, what’s going on? Are you being arrested? What are they searching our house for?

Gemma kept her voice calm, though inside she was shaking. It’s routine, honey. They have to make sure the drugs that were stolen at the clinic aren’t here. Gemma patted her daughter’s leg. Come on. We can’t keep them waiting. Linda will bring you back over here as soon as they leave. I shouldn’t be gone long.

Where’s Dad?

I don’t know. I think he went golfing. I texted him. Gemma picked up a pair of ripped jeans and a t-shirt. Put these on.

I wore those yesterday.

Gemma saw the corners of the officer’s mouth twitch. She must have a teenager.

It’s okay. You’ll be back here before you know it, then you can shower and get clean clothes.

Bri took the clothes and held them to her chest. Are you both going to stand there and watch me?

Get dressed, Gemma said. Then come downstairs.

The officer followed Gemma.

Gemma was holding it together until she got down the stairs and her best friend, Linda, pulled her into a hug. It’s going to be okay.

Gemma shook. This is a nightmare.

Linda handed her a card. Do not say anything else to these people without an attorney present. This is a card for Eric Devlin. I’ve already texted him and asked that he meet you at the precinct. Detective McDonald was good enough to tell me where they are taking you. He said there’s no need for an attorney—which means there is a need for an attorney. Don’t talk until Eric is there with you.

But I haven’t done anything.

Linda held her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. I know that, and you know that. Do not trust anyone else to know that or to believe it.

How do you know this attorney?

Don’t ask, I can’t say.

Bri came down the stairs and stopped mid-way taking in the scene. Mom?

Honey, it’s all right. Stay with Linda until either your father or I get back here.

The detective took hold of Gemma’s arm. We need to go, Mrs. Wallace.

She jerked her arm free. I don’t need your help.

Gemma was mortified when they opened the back door of a police cruiser for her to get in. Neighbors had now begun to come out of their homes and stood on their lawns watching. She got into the car and looked back at her daughter. The shame and the devastated look on Bri’s face broke her heart.

Then she saw the other officers heading into her home carrying file boxes. She knew they wouldn’t find what they expected to find. What would they take just for the hell of it? Where was Mitch? He could have been here to handle this. That was a question she’d asked a lot lately—where is Mitch?

~ * ~

Gemma stared at the computer screen. The legal process between the crime and the arrest appeared to unfold in three parts. It began with reasonable suspicion. If a police officer believed, based on the facts and circumstances of a situation, that a crime had been committed, he could investigate to move to the next step—looking for probable cause.

Gemma was a nurse with full access to the drugs in the clinic. When opioids turned up missing, it was reasonable to suspect her, as it was reasonable to suspect everyone in the clinic that day—staff and patients alike. An arrest would require probable cause, evidence that supported the suspicion that a crime had been committed before a search warrant could be issued or an arrest could be made. The police already had the search warrant and had searched her house.

What she could not understand was how the police determined probable cause for taking her in for questioning and presenting a warrant to search her vehicle and her home. Had someone set her up to take the fall for the drug theft? It was the only explanation that made sense. That seemed reasonable. But who? Dr. Finley? Dr. Chowdhury? Certainly not Mary Beth Orser, the Nurse Practitioner working that day. The only others there were Lila, the student intern, Del, the maintenance man, and Dr. Paul Elliott, the clinic director.

Then came the question of reasonable doubt. Her attorney had told her there was too much reasonable doubt and not enough hard evidence to formally charge her with the crime. She looked this up on the internet.

Reasonable doubt: a doubt especially about the guilt of a criminal defendant that arises or remains upon fair and thorough consideration of the evidence or lack thereof.

NOTE: Proof of guilt beyond a reasonable doubt is required for conviction of a criminal defendant. A reasonable doubt exists when a factfinder cannot say with moral certainty that a person is guilty, or a particular fact exists. It must be more than an imaginary doubt, and it is often defined judicially as such doubt as would cause a reasonable person to hesitate before acting in a matter of importance. Reasonable doubt. Merriam-Webster.com Legal Dictionary.

Gemma thought reasonable doubt applied to a jury trial when the prosecution had not provided enough hard evidence to convict. Thank God things had not gotten that far.

She remembered, however, the parting statement of the detective who came to her home: We’re not going to charge you. All this means is that we don’t have enough evidence to arrest and charge you—yet. Yet. Nothing she said made a bit of difference. Why was she being singled out? What did they know that she didn’t?

Mitch did not respond to her text. He came in the door hours later, stood and looked around, asking, What the hell happened in here?

The police had tossed everything in every room—just like on TV.

She told Mitch what had transpired. Where the hell were you all day?

I—uh…. He shoved his hands into his pockets and blew out a breath. There’s no easy way to say this. I rented a house today. For me and Bri.

What’s wrong with this house? Wait—for you and Bri?

You can’t tell me you’re surprised that I want a divorce. I thought that, given the circumstances, it would be best if Bri live with me. At least until your mess is cleaned up.

Gemma sank onto the sofa. She felt gut punched.

He walked to the kitchen and returned carrying his cell phone. I forgot this. He looked at the phone. Damn, I’m sorry. I would have come if I’d seen your text. They obviously didn’t arrest you, so what’s going on?

Back up. You are not taking my daughter from this house.

Gemma, she needs stability. Look at you. You’re not exactly the picture of mother of the year right now. The police are looking for a reason to arrest you.

You’ve been planning to do this, haven’t you?

I was intending to talk with you this weekend about a divorce. I’m sorry it coincided with what happened at the clinic. Be reasonable, Gemma. It just makes sense for Bri to come and stay with me until this all blows over.

Her hands balled into fists. You told the police I had a drug problem in college.

I told them you used drugs in college.

Once. With you! Her heart pounded. She’d never felt this kind of rage, and it scared her.

Where is Bri? he asked.

I made her go next door with Annie. She was too upset. Linda’s coming over to help me clean up this mess.

He bent and picked up a framed photo of the two of them on their wedding day. This was a long time ago. We’re not those people anymore.

We agree on that. Maybe I should leave. That way Bri can stay here where she’s at home.

No. It’s all settled. If you agree to the divorce, we can meet with one attorney to work out the settlement. I realize you’re in a precarious situation with your job. I’ll take care of household expenses as best I can until you’re back on your feet. I hope we can do this as quickly and quietly as possible.

She stared at him. Then she gasped. Because you filed to run for County Council. You want this all behind you before the election.

You knew I was going to run.

She shook her head. You’re a real piece of work, Mitch. You’ll be great in politics because you’re an opportunist.

His face hardened. Do you want to call Bri to come over so we can talk, or shall I go and get her?

Gemma’s mouth had gone dry. Her voice came out in a squeak. I’ll call.

~ * ~

Gemma watched her life crumble as she lost everything and everyone she cherished. It seemed as though she had been labeled and marked for life. The nightmare, rather than ending, escalated, as did the pain. Though she had not been charged with a crime, the doubt was still there, hanging above her. She was helpless to prove herself innocent. Helpless to change the minds of those who rushed to judgment. Helpless. And hopeless. Something snapped inside.

Chapter Two

Gemma closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. As she exhaled, she set her gaze on the still waters of the marsh. She searched for a reason to not do what she came here to do. But what option did she have? She had lost everything—her job, her reputation, her family. She still shuddered at the anger that heated Mitchell’s face as he’d told her he would file for the divorce. Even after charges were never filed, the hospital severed ties, refusing to reinstate her to her nursing position at the community clinic. She had worked at the clinic for six years. Dr. Paul Elliott, the new director, had praised her work and encouraged her to enroll in medical school. She had opted to pursue licensure as a Family Nurse Practitioner. She almost made it. When it came to her dismissal, Paul left that to Human Resources. It was as if she were the walking plague. No one wanted to touch her.

Nothing mattered, though, as much as the look on her daughter’s face. Brianna had been devastated when Gemma was taken in for questioning. She had witnessed the whole thing—the accusations, her mother being escorted to a police car, and the officers waiting to search their home. At school, the kids were relentless with their teasing and accusations.

When the detective advised Gemma not to leave town, it was obvious they still held suspicions about her role in the drug theft. Then when Mitch told Bri she would be leaving with him, Bri had a major meltdown. She cried, screamed, threw accusations at both of them, then raced to the powder room and threw up.

The police had come with the search warrant and torn the house apart. They found nothing. Not even alcohol. That seemed to fuel suspicions that Gemma had ‘cleaned up.’ The police detective showed up once again to let Gemma know they were no longer considering her a suspect because of a lack of evidence, but a lot of good that did to erase suspicions and doubts already cast.

Exoneration did little to elicit forgiveness from either Mitch or Bri. A thirteen-year-old needed stability. Having her bedroom torn apart by police officers did not provide stability. The last three weeks had been anything but stable for any of them. She had tried to explain it all to Bri, to reassure her that everything would now be fine. It was too late. Mitch had already gotten into Bri’s head. Gemma stepped back, believing it would be the best thing for Bri, at least for the time being.

If Gemma were to be honest, things had been strained with Mitch for some time. She couldn’t pinpoint the moment the gulf widened between them. It was obvious he’d taken advantage of her situation as a means to an end—the end of their marriage. What hurt most was that he’d taken Bri with him to that other side. And there were sides. Just as there were two sides to the events that landed her in an interview room at the county jail.

The sun reflected off the water, the rays warming her face. If she sat very still, beat back the voices in her head and drew in a breath, she could almost convince herself life could be good again. But who was she kidding?

She wiped her damp palms on the tops of her shorts. She was losing her nerve.

This is for the best. Best for everyone.

She pushed up to her feet and slid off her shoes. She had left her purse and the keys along with a note in the car parked on the narrow road above the marsh. Her original plan had been to drive further north to the lake. But this quiet place with its still water, marsh grasses and tall cattails, the chirps and croaks of wildlife settled something in her. Gave her peace.

She took a few steps forward, felt her toes sink into the cool mud at the marsh’s edge. The water was colder than she expected. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly as she walked forward, the water covering her ankles, then tickling the backs of her knees. This was as good a place as any to….

Hey, what are you doing down there?

The gruff voice stopped her forward motion.

You’ll get sucked into the mud. Come out of there. This isn’t a swimming hole.

She had two choices—run into the water and take a deep breath, or…. She turned around, stumbled, her right foot found a root, her ankle twisted, and she went sprawling onto her backside. The rush of cold water made her gasp.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. The woman strode toward her.

She was tall with a crown of graying curly hair. She wore a pair of khaki hiking shorts, ankle-high boots, and a t-shirt that proclaimed her World’s Worst Grandmother. She stood at the edge of the marsh and extended a hand. Grab hold.

Gemma studied the outstretched hand. Cold marsh mud seeped into her shorts. She took the hand but struggled to find purchase as she dug in her heels.

Lean forward, the woman said.

Gemma gave in, allowed the woman to pull her to her feet. She shot up out of the mud and stumbled forward. The woman stepped to the side to avoid a collision.

Want to tell me why you’re in my marsh, Gemma Wallace?

Gemma felt foolish. She turned that into indignance. Want to tell me who I’m speaking with?

Collie Gallagher. I own this property. I’m sure you noticed the No Trespassing signs on the road you took to drive in here. There’s one right there on the tree you parked under.

I’m sorry. I was distracted. I’ll go. She stepped around the woman and bent to pick up her shoes. How did you know my name?

You left your purse and wallet with your driver’s license on the seat of your car. You don’t want to get into that fancy car with all that marsh mud down the back of you. Come up to the house and clean up.

I…. Tears unexpectedly filled her eyes at this simple act of kindness. She sniffled and wavered on her feet. I’ll be okay.

Honey, you’re clearly not okay. We both know that, don’t we?

I…I’m not sure what you mean.

You left a note in your car.

Embarrassment warmed Gemma’s face. She nodded.

Collie’s voice softened. Come on. I’ve got tea or something stronger. She waited for Gemma to walk ahead. My cabin’s back around the bend. You had to pass it coming in.

Gemma stopped at her car and grabbed her purse and keys—and the note which she crumpled and tossed onto the floor. She reached down and popped the trunk, rounded to the back, and removed a small suitcase.

Collie stared. You packed a suitcase for your…you know.

My suicide? I wasn’t sure I’d have the guts to go through with it. I just needed to get away from everything. She hefted the suitcase. You foiled those plans.

"Am I supposed to apologize for keeping you from offing yourself in four feet of muddy water? Did you even think you might give a woman a heart attack when she found your body floating in her marsh? What about Brianna? She must mean something