Left for Garbage

his face as he fingered the fine fabric made me want to give him the world, which he deserves, since the world has taken everything from him.
    This is as much of my own story as I am willing to relate presently, as in truth this is the story of Denise Brown, a beautiful, vulnerable young woman who sits today where once my Charlie sat - innocent yet accused, a good person yet vilified. As I once called myself Charlie’s guardian angel, and through circumstances became lucky enough to eventually call myself his wife, now I call myself the same thing Denise calls me, her mother.
    Denise is guilty of nothing but being born into a family that shunted he r aside in every way possible. She was ground into dust between a self-absorbed mother, a distant father and a disturbed brother. As with Charlie, the world offered her nothing. As Denise grew up a lonely, unloved little girl, she developed a rich inner fantasy life, and the world can call her a liar, but I call her resourceful, I call her a survivor.
    Every day Denise and I grow closer. In fact, she has asked me to pick out her clothes for the trial. Salvatore, the lead attorney, had already purchased a wardrobe of business clothes for her, but Denise confided in me nearly immediately that she admired more the softer pastel clothes like I wore.
    I didn’t even bother to ask Salvatore for the money t o buy her new apparel for court. I enjoyed buying them for her, and in fact, while I was shopping for Denise, I began adding pieces to my own closet, slightly more mature combos than those I bought for her, but in similar colors and designs.
    I may not have consciously understood what I was doing, but last week , during visitation with my husband, he brought it up. Charlie has insight into me like no one else, me included, and when he said, “You’re picking out mother-daughter outfits, that’s what you’re doing, Penny, honey,” I understood immediately that he was right. Later in our visit, he commented, and not for the first time, on how pretty he thought Denise was. Charlie is following her court visits and will watch all of her trial on TV, since he likes to cheer me on. He watches as much as the confines of his life allow, and when he added that he thought Denise looks like me, I smiled appreciatively at the compliment. But when he said, “When I look at you two on TV, I think she could be the daughter you and I weren’t able to have, Penny,” well, I broke down in tears.

Keith Brown
    (Father of Denise Brown)

    I’m thinking back to August 9, 2008, which would have been Deel ey’s third birthday, when I still held out hope that she would be returned to us. We mostly prayed on that day and held a vigil for Deeley’s safe return. Then Denise came home from jail twice, once when Rick bailed her out and then again for a week in October. But she has been in jail since then, and now the next year is underway, and my daughter’s murder arrest is upgraded to include a possible death sentence.
    I still try to let Denise know how much I love her and that I still want to believe she has only made a dreadful mistake, but now all hope is lost of ever having Deeley back in our arms. She is gone forever. The details, well, I can’t begin to think about them, let alone speak of them.
    Rick Daley at first believed with us and in us, that we could find Deeley alive and bring her home, but then he turned on us and I even had to call nine-one-one on him once when he came near the house after Margaret obtained a restraining order against him. John Walsh and all the organizations did their part. The Never Lose Hope Foundation put up reward money I would never have dreamed possible. I truly believed the amount would prompt Manny the nanny, a person I now know for certain never existed, to return Deeley, but I’m not prepared to believe my daughter killed Deeley, either, at least not deliberately.
    I could have been a better father, paid more attention, but I once felt like the luckiest guy in the world, father of two, a son and a daughter, in that order, and isn’t that what they say is the richest a person can be? I was madly in love with Margaret back then when we had strong chemistry between us. I mean, the love is still there, but it’s strained.
    What drew me to Margaret to begin with was her enthusiasm to be successful, not to mention there was a lot of chemistry, I mean a lot, when we first met. I was just a regular young guy back then, married to a girl I thought I