Three days later, just after lunch, the phone rang.
“I need to see the three of you in my office as soon as Kurt can get here. We’ve been offered a deal that I think we might want to consider.” Ryan Scott’s voice kept its usual lawyer monotone, but somehow I knew he was excited. Or at least, I hoped that was what I knew.
“Okay, I’ll give Kurt a call.”
“I just did. He’s on his way.”
Wow, Ryan Scott must really be excited. As soon as we hung up, I called Rick at work and told him what I knew.
“I’ll be home within the hour.”
“I don’t think Kurt will be here that soon.”
“That’s the idea. I want to be ready to roll when he gets here.”
I hung up the phone and looked at Caroline, who had come to stand behind me sometime during the phone conversation. “I’m coming, too.”
“No, sweetie, this is not for you. I’ll call Lacey and see if you can go stay with her.”
Caroline crossed her arms across her chest and stomped her right foot. “I’m a member of this family, and this affects me, too. You guys all think you are so smart trying to hide stuff from me. The kids at school know more about this than I do.”
The reality of that slammed me hard. She was right. The only way she would be able to fight the rumor mill was if she knew the truth and knew when something was and was not true. I reached down and gave her a hug. “You know what? You’re right. You can come with us.”
She pumped an air fist. “Yes.”
“But, you have to sit very still and very quiet in the lawyer’s office.”
“Pffft. I’m not a baby. Of course I will.”
After Rick arrived home, we all paced the floor until Kurt pulled into the driveway. He climbed out of his beater car, looking somewhere between terrified and hopeful. “Did he give you any idea what the deal is?”
I shook my head. “I was hoping you knew something.”
“Well, let’s quit wasting time, get in the car, and go find out what we can find out.” Rick jingled the keys in his hands. Caroline had already climbed in the backseat and was calling out the door, “Come on, everybody, let’s get moving.”
When we got out of the car, Rick waited for the three of us, but I could tell by the stiffness of his step and the impatient lift of his shoulders that he didn’t want to. He hurried down the hall, and the moment we were inside Ryan’s office he demanded, “A deal for whom?” He didn’t bother to take a seat.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t stand. I dropped into my usual chair and pulled Caroline up into my lap. “What is the offer?”
“They’ve offered something of a package deal.” He looked at me. “Everyone involved understands the situation and realizes the decision Alisa made in coming forward. And if they didn’t realize it before, after all the editorials in the paper and Theresa Singer interviews on TV lately, they realize it now.” He actually laughed a little as he said those last few words. “For you they’re willing to settle for three years probation and a couple hundred hours of community service.”
I slowly exhaled. I could definitely live with that. But now came the hard part. “What about Kurt?”
Ryan pulled at his tie. “He’s a bit more complicated. He killed a man. But given the amount of public support for the two of you, and given the fact that there is arguably a selfdefense argument that could be made, they’ve offered voluntary manslaughter.”
That didn’t sound all that good to me. I looked up at Rick, who looked as confused as I was. He cast a furtive glance toward Kurt, then turned back to Ryan. “Will he go to jail for that?”
“Yes.” Ryan paused a moment, giving us time to take in this fact.
“For how long?” Rick asked.
“California is a determinate sentence state. What that means is, for each felony conviction, there are set amounts of time a person can go to prison. There is a low level, a mid level, and a high level. For voluntary manslaughter, the high level is eleven years.”
I gasped. “Eleven years? That’s too much.”
“The low level is three years, which the DA says is not enough. They’ve agreed to recommend the mid level to the judge, and that’s six years. Of course, the judge makes that final decision. He could choose to go high.”
Kurt leaned forward, hands on knees. “What do I need to do?”
“He’ll want a write-up of your background, et cetera. I want you to tell him about every good deed you’ve done in your entire life.”
“But if Kurt’s got to go to jail, why can’t we ask for the low end?” I knew it sounded whiny, but I didn’t care. My son was going to prison; I felt whiny.
“Mom, it’s the right thing.” Kurt’s voice was firm with resolve. He sat so erect in his chair, like a person trying to face the firing squad bravely.
I looked toward the lawyer. “But Rudy Prince threatened him first. It wasn’t Kurt’s fault.”
“Yes, he threatened me, and then he turned around and walked away. I’m the one who went after him and killed him.”
There was truth in every word, I knew there was, but I wasn’t ready to give up my trench. “After you watched him viciously attack a homeless man. Why should standing up for another human being be a crime?”
Ryan Scott cleared his throat. “If you’d rather, we could take it to trial, hope that a jury sees it the same way you do. If we do that, the DA’s obligated to go after first-degree murder charges. If you win, great. If you lose—you’d lose everything.”
Kurt shook his head. “No, manslaughter is good.” He came over to kneel beside my chair. “Mom, you’ve been saying we need to leave the past behind us, and I agree with you. But if I’m going to leave yesterday behind, I want to do it with as clear a conscience as I can get in this case. The fact is, Rudy Prince died because of me, and I need to pay for that.”
We called Monte and Jodi, and they drove down to Santa Barbara, where the entire family sat huddled around the living room, saying little. There was a mixture of grief and relief and regret, which seemed to choke back all conversation.
Finally, Monte spoke. “I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds here”—he cast a glance toward Rick—“but I went on the Internet this afternoon and looked up some information on Prison Fellowship.”
Rick looked at him with hollow eyes. “Prison Fellowship, what’s that?”
“It’s a Christian group that works through local churches in the prisons. They teach classes, have discipleship groups set up among the inmates, help with transitioning back out, all those things.” He reached inside the duffel bag at his feet and produced a pile of papers, clipped together. “I downloaded their Guide to Prison Survival. I thought it might be helpful. And I took down the numbers for the offices that work with the Southern California prisons. I didn’t call anyone. I thought I’d leave that up to you.”
Kurt took the packet of papers from his hands. “Thank you. I’ll look into this.”
I looked toward Rick, wondering how he was taking all this, especially since it was coming from Monte. I didn’t have to wonder long, because he spoke up. “Thank you. For being here for my family time and again.”
“We’re family. That’s what we’re supposed to do.”
“Yes, it is.” Rick reached over and took my hand.