Crush. Candy. Corpse. by Sylvia McNicoll Page B

it.
    Still, I’ve never met her and there she stands, Cole’s mouth and eyes set in an older person’s face. The wrinkles around them and the set of her face seem like a reaction to an ache. She uses the Bible to swear in. Good that she believes in God. That must have been helpful last year at this time.
    The Crown attorney smoothes his black feathers and asks her to explain her relationship to the victim.
    “I’m her daughter-in-law, but I also had power of attorney for finances and personal care.”
    He lifts his beak hopefully. “Isn’t this unusual? Shouldn’t it be her son, your husband, who holds this power?”
    Claudine’s mouth purses with a long-suffering air. “My husband travels for his work. Since I was the person most easily reached and available, Helen signed the papers over to me. We were quite close.”
    The buzzard nods. He’s so understanding and he talks more softly now. “How long has your mother-in-law had Alzheimer’s disease?”
    She frowns and shrugs her shoulders. “We don’t know for sure. She may have been having symptoms before but she was diagnosed by a gerontologist four years ago.”
    “And what was the prognosis for the disease in her case?”
    “The doctor had no predictions to make. We were just supposed to take it day by day. We did think that if she lived with us and we could administer the medications, it might slow the progression.”
    “And were you right?”
    Mrs. Demers frowns and shakes her head. “No. Or, well, maybe it did. Still her condition deteriorated rapidly. She started accusing me of stealing things from her. She also went for long walks and got lost all the time.”
    The buzzard shifts on his feet and raises his palm up to her. “So she lived in your home for as long as possible and then you placed her in Paradise Manor?”
    “It was after a car hit her.” She stops abruptly.
    Two bad accidents to people she loved. I feel a twinge for her again.
    She continues. “We felt we had no other choice.”
    The Crown attorney tilts his head, his hand still reaching out. “How would you characterize your son’s relationship with your mother-in-law?”
    “Even though Helen stopped trusting me, and blamed me for forcing her into the home, she still believed in Cole. They had a strong bond.” Claudine nods emphatically.
    “Do you feel she might have asked him to assist her to commit suicide?”
    “Absolutely.”
    The jury lady in the sweatsuit gasps.
    Cole’s mom quickly continues. “But that doesn’t matter. Cole understood that the request was from a woman who no longer had her reasoning. He knew it to be wrong. He would not have helped her.”
    “You’ve never met Sonja Ehret before this trial, but from what he said at home, how would you characterize Cole’s relationship to the defendant?”
    Mrs. Demers frowns. “He liked her very much.” She sounds sour about this as she continues. “He wanted her to be his girlfriend. On Valentine’s Day he had a whole romantic evening planned with her for after their visit to the Manor. He even had his hair styled for the day.”
    The buzzard furrows his brow, pretending to be puzzled on the behalf of all of us. “Instead Cole just rode his bike away from the Paradise Manor that day?”
    “I don’t know what happened exactly. But I’m convinced she broke his heart.”
    Objection! Misunderstanding! I wanted to go out with Cole that night.
    But I can’t yell that out and, anyway, I’m not on trial for standing him up on a Valentine’s date. Still, the round juror shifts uncomfortably in his chair. You can tell he’s not happy with me. He’s frowning and wiping his forehead.
    “Do you feel your son might have extracted some promise from Sonja that she would help him in assisting your mother-in-law’s suicide?”
    “Objection!” My lawyer leaps up. “Opinions and hearsay.”
    “Sustained,” the judge says.
    “No, no, no!” Mrs. Demers cries out. “Cole wouldn’t do that!”
    “Mrs. Demers,