Acute Justice

PREFACE

I wrote Acute Justice in respect for all the domestic violence victims. Please let me make it clear that I have never been abused. I only know about the brutality, both mentally and physically because of my volunteering. I have heard victim’s stories and I have heard or read about the battering too often. I also hear about the abuse too often in the news. What happens to the survivor or the survivor’s family? I pray that they receive help to overcome this tragedy. Victims need to learn how to recognized and differentiate the power of abuse from love. There is no love in abuse!

There are several women in my story who have experienced domestic violence. Each story is different, yet all are tied together by the cruelty which they suffered. Wounds both mentally and physically haunt them. A murder almost seems like justice, but you can judge for yourself. I researched the legal system as well as the physical and psychological effects of abuse cases. I learned that women face one of the greatest dangers in a violent relationship when they think it is built on love. Domestic violence does not differentiate on the basis of race, creed, income, or social status. I also had advice from a retired Colorado Appellate Court Judge and a retired police officer. Acute Justice takes you through the abuse, murder, investigation and trial. You will finally arrive at, “Oh, I didn’t expect that!”

You will find valuable information about abuse on my Recommended Sites for your use.

PROLOGUE

Ginny pulled out the Human Resource Center pamphlets Beth had given her from the Resource Center. They were hidden under kitchen towels in a drawer. She read them thoroughly. Those domestic abuse women knew how it was and had been in the same situation as she.

Were they right about me not being at fault? Maybe I’m not stupid after all or at least not as stupid as Tommy says. Could they actually keep me safe and help me? Maybe I ought to call them tomorrow when Tommy’s at work. After all, they sure seem to know my life. It was almost like they knew Tommy personally. Maybe they do understand. She nodded her head firmly, Okay, I’ll call them tomorrow. She put the pamphlets back in the drawer, hidden from Tommy.

In fear, she waited and waited. Tommy did not come home for his meal. Where was he? What should she do? Keep the dinner warm? Put it in the refrigerator? Should she go to bed? She sure didn’t want another beating. She asked God to not let her get hit again when Tommy came home. She found she was often praying for help these days.

… By two o’clock, Tommy still hadn’t shown up. She couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore and decided to go to bed. “Asleep or awake, it isn’t going to make a difference to Tommy if he’s in a bad mood. I’m too tired to care any longer,” she blurted out. Her resources of energy were exhausted and she felt maybe life wasn’t worth living anyway. Death wouldn’t be so bad after all. The pain would stop then.

When she put her head down on the pillow, she closed her eyes and immediately fell asleep. A short time later, she saw Tommy coming at her. His fists clenched into tight, lethal clubs and his devil eyes full of rage. His beer breath invaded her nostrils. She sat upright, eyes wide open.

Just a dream, but it caused her to shake with fear. Forcing herself to relax, she put her head down again. Sleep would not come. Fear that Tommy would hit her again tonight engulfed her and she just couldn’t take it anymore.

She bolted out of bed and loudly declared, “He isn’t going to hit me again!”