It took less than two days for the jury to reach a verdict. They sifted through the evidence methodically and patiently. They asked Judge Shaw for clarification on questions of law. They reviewed thick transcripts of testimony. The jury didn’t have K’s testimony to consider. That was struck from the record. They didn’t have Scott Blair’s testimony, either. He never took the stand. Yet they reached a unanimous verdict. By early afternoon, the courtroom was full as we waited to hear their decision.

Judge Shaw asked the defendant to stand. Scott stood and sort of puffed out his cheeks as if he was taking a huge lungful of oxygen as he waited for the verdict to be read out.

The jury foreman passed a slip of paper to the bailiff. Scott Blair’s parents tightened their grip on each other’s hands as the paper was handed to Judge Shaw. His mother flinched as the judge opened the folded sheet. All eyes were on the judge’s expression as he read the jury’s verdict. His face was inscrutable.

Then he put the paper down and cleared his throat. Cynthia Blair put her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. Her son’s fate was about to be sealed, one way or the other, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Scott Blair’s posture relaxed for an instant when the words “not guilty” rang out. But they were quickly followed by “guilty,” “guilty.” He flinched each time. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the courtroom.

The jury found Scott Blair “not guilty” of raping K. But it found him guilty on one count of sexual assault and two counts of sexual battery.

Many of you may agree with the verdict after listening to the testimony and reviewing the evidence that we’ve put on the podcast website. We’ve also uploaded an analysis from a law professor about why the case might not have met the legal definition of rape in North Carolina, which requires threats, such as the use of a deadly weapon, for a sexual assault to be deemed rape in that state.

Some of you, no doubt, will say that it’s a travesty of justice. That Scott Blair should have been convicted on the most serious charge of rape. Others will say that he shouldn’t have been convicted at all. That there wasn’t enough evidence to convict him beyond a reasonable doubt.

I’m sure I’ll get messages from people expressing all sorts of opinions. Believe me, I’ve heard every possible view during my brief time in Neapolis covering this trial. I’ve received a flood of messages arguing the merits of chemical castration. And other emails telling me that rapists deserve to die. I’ve also received plenty of messages in support of Scott Blair, accusing K of all manner of sins, including the sin of lying.

To tell you the truth, I don’t get how we can almost unanimously agree that murder is wrong, yet when it comes to rape some people still see shades of gray. At least judging by our inbox and social media, which my producer, Pete, has been monitoring closely over the course of this season.

While the case might be over in court, the appeals will start almost immediately, even before Scott Blair’s sentence is handed down. But regardless of how much prison time he gets, Scott will pay for what he did for the rest of his life. His life as he knew it is over. He is now a convicted sex offender. He’ll be on the registry. He’ll never, ever swim competitively again. Let alone for his country.

As for K, the victim. She’s moved away to start a new life somewhere else. Perhaps the verdict will give her a measure of peace. I hope so.

The jurors will return to the mundane worries of their day-to-day lives. Keeping their businesses afloat, or their employers happy. Raising children and grandchildren. Paying mortgages. But I can’t help thinking that this case will hang heavily over them in years to come. It’s a terrible thing for a person to have to stand in judgment of another.

This is Rachel Krall and this was Season 3 of Guilty or Not Guilty, the podcast that puts you in the jury box.

54

Rachel

Rachel pulled her suitcase across the hotel lobby. She was looking forward to getting home. The radio reports that morning had warned that a tropical storm out in the Atlantic was strengthening and might be recategorized as a hurricane as it moved toward the coast. Rachel wanted to be far gone by the time it hit. She paused when she saw a tall man leaning against a faux marble column, his arms crossed.

“You’re not staying for the sentencing?” Mitch Alkins asked.

“I have to head back,” Rachel said. “What do you think Scott will get?”

“At a guess, around eight to ten years. He’s a first-time offender. I don’t think Judge Shaw will throw the book at him. But who knows,” said Alkins. “One thing is for sure; the defense will appeal. Judge Shaw might lose that nonreversal record he’s so proud of.”

“I’m sure you’ll do everything in your power to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Rachel said. He smiled determinedly. Rachel had no doubt that Mitch Alkins would see to it that Scott Blair received a hefty prison term and served every day of it.

“Do you have time for a quick drive?” Alkins asked. “I want to show you something.” Rachel looked at him questioningly. There was a strange note in his voice. She had a feeling he was hiding something.

Rachel decided to delay her departure even though she’d hoped to get out of town before the highway snarled up with cars leaving before the storm hit. Rachel stored her bags in the hotel luggage area and followed Alkins out to the street where he’d parked his black Jeep. They drove south along the beach road. Alkins didn’t say where he was taking her. She didn’t need to ask.

When they arrived at the Morrison’s Point beach, he parked right next to Detective Cooper’s car. She saw the glint of the detective’s blond hair at the end of the jetty, where he stood looking out to sea. The sky was overcast and forbidding. There were no boats in the water. It wasn’t sailing weather. Fishermen were scattered in their usual spots across the jetty, their lines hanging into the rough water. A couple of teenage boys jumped into the waves, despite the old warning sign.

“Dumb kids,” a fisherman complained. “They’re scaring all the fish away.”

Detective Cooper turned and waved to them as they approached. Standing alongside him was Hannah. She was wearing a striped gypsy skirt and a cropped denim jacket. Rachel could see a hint of a black henna tattoo going down the back of Hannah’s neck as she leaned over the edge, throwing flowers into the water.

Rachel had last spoken to Hannah in the hospital. She’d been sitting up in bed picking at her lunch tray when Rachel came into her room with a big bouquet of get-well flowers. They’d talked for a while, until visiting hours had ended.

Hannah had told Rachel that she wasn’t sure if she’d slipped into the water that night, or if her arms had given out, or, she conceded, if she had finally answered the beckoning call of the ocean. “Regardless,” she’d said, “I’m so grateful to you, Rachel. You risked your life for me.”

Hannah turned and smiled at Rachel when she realized that she’d joined them on the jetty. She handed Rachel some flowers and together they tossed the remaining daisies into the water. When they were done, they stood together watching the floating petals get consumed by waves until they disappeared under the surface.

“I can drop you off at Kitty’s house on my way back,” Rachel offered. “There’s a storm coming. You might want to get out of here now while the going’s good.”

“I don’t want to leave so quickly. Storm or no storm, I’m going to stay for a while,” Hannah said. “Maybe I’ll do some painting. There’s a gallery owner who’s been pestering me to have an exhibition, and I was thinking I could put together a collection of paintings of Neapolis to go with my other work and hold an exhibition next spring.”

She turned to Rachel and touched her arm. “I want to apologize. I manipulated you with my letters so you’d help me find Jenny’s murderer, and then I brought you to the jetty and put your life at risk. I had no right to put you in such danger. I was so focused on trying to get him to confess that I didn’t consider the possibility that he might kill us both to make sure his crimes stayed a secret.”

“Fortunately, that didn’t happen. We’re both alive and well,” said Rachel. “And now, when he’s caught, I can testify to his confession.”

“Didn’t you hear?” said Hannah uncertainly, glancing over Rachel’s shoulder at Detective Cooper.

“Hear what?” Rachel asked.

“Dan Moore’s body was found early this morning,” Detective Cooper said. “He was in the water, tied by a rope to one of his boats. He tried to make it look like a boating accident, but he was an experienced sailor. A man like that with all his naval experience doesn’t get caught in rigging and drown. Not unless he intends it.”

“I guess he did it for his daughter?” Rachel said. “So she wouldn’t have to cope with him being put on trial after everything else she’s had to deal with?”