Stark Raving Mad
Vanessa M Knight
Vanessa M. Knight
Stark Raving Mad
Copyright © 2015 by Vanessa M. Knight
Published by Inked Publishing
Cover Art © 2019 by Qamber Designs & Media
Edited by Erin Dunbar
Copy edited by Nancy Canu
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-0-9971838-8-7
Contents
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
More Books by this Author
About the Author
To the best mom, ever.
You inspire me, and your belief keeps me going. Thank you for thinking everything I do is fabulous.
Acknowledgments
Every book takes so many people and so many hours, it is truly a labor of love. It's hard to narrow it down to just a page worth of people, when there are so many that are deserving of thanks. First off, I want to thank my fabulous critique partners Kelly Garcia, Stephanie Scott, Nicole Leiren, and J Leigh Bailey. They have seen the train wreck that is my first draft, and then they work and work to make the next draft better.
Thank you to Windy City RWA for the insight and friendship. A girl couldn't ask for a better group of women. We celebrate, commiserate, and persevere together and I couldn't have done it without all of you and your support.
I want to thank my editors Erin Dunbar and Nancy Canu. You made the story stronger and better, and as always, I'm grateful for that.
Thank you to my family for their unrelenting support. Your encouragement and belief in me made all of this possible.
Last, but certainly not least, thank you hubs and kiddo for dealing with a crazed wife/ mom at crunch time. Thank you for listening to me ramble on and on about plot holes and misbehaving characters. You two are my heart and soul and you mean the world to me. Yep, mom's getting sappy, again.
Prologue
Brook Southby sat on the worn wooden chair behind the defendant’s table. Nerves knotted and tugged at her stomach as she looked around the room and fought the urge to chew her almost nonexistent fingernails.
It was her first case. Every lawyer had one. Today was hers, and her nerves were shot.
Brook’s boss, Larry Bosk, sat next to her, calm and relaxed. Not a care in the world, with the exception of what lie he’d spew to his wife. Larry had some charity function tonight that he’d make an early appearance for, and then hightail it to some intern’s bed.
Dennis Maxwell Stark leaned over to Brook.” Are you sure we should plead out?” he whispered for the tenth time.
Air whistled through the gap in his teeth.
“We’ve discussed this again and again,” Larry snarled, looking at his watch. “You plead guilty and you'll get three years. Without the deal, you're facing five to seven years for aggravated domestic battery and another year for violating the order of protection. It’s in your best interest.”
“Can you just stop talking? You're giving me a headache.” Dennis ran rough fingers through his already scraggly brown hair, curling his knuckles when he reached the base of his skull. Fire burned in his widened eyes before he pulled back, his skinny shoulders slumping forward. “I’ll only talk to her. Brooklyn, ma’am, I trust you. What should I do?”
Brook’s eyes drifted from Larry to Dennis. This man’s life hung on the next words to come out of her mouth. Was it a good deal? Not really. But he did have priors, and this was serious—public intoxication, violating an order of protection, and aggravated battery. Larry had twenty years’ experience practicing law; she would be crazy not to follow his lead.
“I mean, it’s only ag-bat ’cause she was pregnant. I’m sorry I got drunk. I didn’t mean to shove her. I was shoving her lowlife boyfriend, but she got in the way. I didn't even know she was pregnant. The lying whore didn't tell me she was changing the locks or sleeping with my best friend, why the hell would she tell me she was knocked up?” Dennis’ head dropped again. “Sorry for the language ma’am. I just get so, so mad.”
Her fingers fidgeted into tangles as she said, “I think you should listen to Larry. He set up this deal for you. You’re looking at three years and all of this will be over.”
The oxygen in the courtroom thudded through her lungs as she waited. The judge’s seat was empty, but spectators swarmed the empty, dirty metal seats in the courtroom waiting for their own cases to be announced. Conversation stole the air from the room and all coherent thoughts from Brook’s mind.
She just needed this to be over.
They said that once your first case was over, the rest were a walk in the park. She didn’t know about that. She wasn’t a fan of walking in the park, but practicing law—she loved. She should be in her element, but she found she was too nervous to even enjoy it.
The judge walked in through the back door, and his robe swayed as he climbed the stairs to his bench. His eyes roamed over the room while he waited for the noise to go from deafening to low mumble. Apparently appeased, he banged the gavel. “Next case.”
The bailiff handed him the docket. “Stark versus Delany.”
The judge adjusted his glasses on his narrow nose as he scanned the paperwork before him. “Mister Stark, I see you have made a deal with the state’s attorney.
However, due to the nature of your crime, and the extent of your prior convictions, I am overruling the plea deal.” He folded his hands and looked directly at Dennis, who was frozen in place. “Mister Stark, I am sentencing you a full seven years for Aggravated Domestic Battery, with an additional one year for violating an order of protection.”
Wait, no. Brook’s breathe caught in her throat. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. Crap. “Can he do that?”
Larry sat back in his chair and shrugged. “We took a calculated risk.”
A calculated risk? He never said this was a risk. She never would have agreed if she’d known. She wouldn’t risk her client’s life, his freedom. He made a mistake, sure, but shutting this kid away for eight years because of one mistake… Who hadn’t made mistakes?
A loud bang resonated from judge’s gavel. Brook jumped in her seat and turned to Dennis.
“Fuck you. You did this to me. I’ll kill you!” Dennis lunged at her before two police officers in head-to-toe black, wearing bullet-proof vests, yanked him from the chair and shoved him into the hall.
Brook grabbed her paperwork, stuffed it into her briefcas
e, and followed them out. She had to explain, make him understand. She would fix it. She had to.
The hallway emptied as everyone headed out to lunch.
No Dennis. Where did they take him so quickly? A thump echoed from one of the interrogation rooms. She opened the door.
Dennis lay in a heap. Bloody nose, gashed lip.
Two cops stood over him. The burly one had his leg cocked back, ready to strike Dennis’ limp frame.
Disgust and anger surged through her veins and fought for dominance. “Stop!” Sickness rolled around her stomach.
One of the cops stepped forward. “It’s under control.” The other stepped back and wiped bloody knuckles on the side of his pants.
“You call this control? He needs a doctor.” Brook moved closer, but yappy-cop stepped in the way.
“It’s under control.”
“Bullshit. I’m reporting you both.” Hands shaking, she ripped a pen out of her bag and copied the numbers from the badges around their necks. The body on the floor moved. Oh, thank God. “Dennis, are you okay?”
He raised his head. “Get out. Haven’t you done enough damage, you evil bitch?” His head lolled back to the filthy tiles. “I never want to see you again. I’ll never forget today. Never.”
She walked out the door, a tear escaping her eye as she leaned against the cold brick wall. Her first case, her first loss, her first failure. She’d never let this happen again. She’d never be unprepared.
And, yeah, she’d never forget today, either.
Chapter One
Eight Years Later…
The towering buildings of the Chicago skyline twinkled against the dark city sky as Brooklyn Southby stared out the large wall of windows of her sister’s condo. She could almost get lost in the view. Almost. No matter how expansive the view of the city was, it couldn’t take away the day she’d had, the month. Nothing could fill that hole.
But the sparkle of the city over the inky-black lake soothed some of the ache, making her believe in possibilities and adventures and the future. Looking down from her high perch, she felt like she was staring out a window to her dreams.
Ugh. Window to her dreams… What a crock. She had everything she’d ever dreamed of. She was one of the youngest partners at the prestigious Biddle and Bosk law firm. She had wonderful friends and family. So why was she unhappy?
She took a sip of her second dry martini. The sips were getting longer and easier. She normally stuck to liquid of the non-alcoholic variety, but after today, she figured she deserved a real drink.
It’s not every day your boyfriend announces he’s moving out. Sadly, it had happened more often than she cared to admit.
But this time–this time was different. This time she thought it would last. Todd was her best friend—is her best friend.
Her hand pressed over her heart, the hole he’d left in her chest singed raw around the edges. Why did this hurt so damn much? Was it because she was losing her best friend, or because she was losing the man she loved? Probably both.
Dammit, though, she really hated losing her best friend.
But how do you stay friends after all the hurt?
The cityscape didn’t seem to hold the answer, so she turned to the party behind her, not that anyone here would have the answer. They were drinking to celebrate, not drinking to forget. Well-dressed customers and colleagues packed her sister Allison’s condo, talking everything from hospital advancements to jewelry, while Allison and her boyfriend, Adam Byrnes, worked the room.
After fifteen years at Byrnes and Company, Allison knew all about the wonderful world of jewelry and diamonds. She could talk cut, clarity, and carats with the best of them. Since tonight she was hosting a charity event for a hospital, she’d spent days learning hospital lingo. She was probably rocking those conversations, too.
Brook watched Allison’s dark-blonde hair flip back as she laughed at a joke. Her eyes met Brook’s, and she excused herself from the seemingly-transfixed men and women around her. Yep, she was rocking those conversations.
Allison expertly mingled her way to the windows and raised her glass to her sister. Brook raised her own cocktail glass, and they met with a distinctive clink.
“How are things outside? All the buildings still standing?” Allison asked.
“Yes, smart-ass, the buildings are fine.”
“Where’s Todd the Bod?”
“Hell if I know.” Brook rolled her eyes and gulped down most of her drink.
She had graduated to gulps—probably not the best idea.
“Sounds like trouble in paradise. Everything okay?”
“Fine.” Not fine, but this was so not the place for the Todd discussion.
“This is you fine?” Allison used her forefinger to scratch an eyebrow, her head cocked to the side. “So you normally guzzle booze and glare at festive party-goers?”
Brook turned and sipped, sipped, sipped the martini dry. She deserved a little credit; she wasn’t gulping anymore. But she did need another drink. A replacement stood at the bar halfway across the room, swarming with all the people getting their own fix. Damn.
A waiter walked by with a tray full of stemware. Wine. She hated to mix drinks. What was the saying? Liquor before wine, all is fine, wine before liquor, never sicker? Oh, hell, who knew? And right now, who cared?
Brook set her glass on the waiter’s tray and fumbled for a glass of wine. Allison exclaimed, “Brook, you don’t drink. What the hell is this?”
“I had a bad day. Maybe I should just go home.”
“You mean drive?” Allison’s eyes narrowed, lips curling into a scowl. “Do you think I’d let you, after what happened to Mom and Dad? How can you even…do you even remember? I know what happened to Mom and Dad.”
Allison knew what happened? Since when? How the hell did she find out?
Brook had never told anyone, not even the police.
“I can’t lose you to a drunk driver, like we lost them.
Stay here tonight.” Allison pulled out the pleading eyes and hushed voice.
Her sister didn’t know. No one knew. No one could ever know what Brook had done. A drunk driver, yeah, that’s what killed them.
“Brook, talk to me.”
Talking, she didn’t want to talk. She wanted to go to bed, her own bed. Her perfectly comfortable bed calling to her from her perfectly silent house—but Allison would never let her leave, not now. She was in this for the long haul.
Brook sighed.
“We can do this here, or I’ll drag you to the back hall,”
Allison said. “I’m not leaving you alone until you talk to me.” Allison wouldn’t let up, would never let this go. Dammit.
In a courtroom, Brook had no problem arguing her point until the jury saw her side of things, but in her life, well, that was a whole other story. Maybe a person was only born with a certain amount of fight in them. Overworking and hiding her head was how she generally handled herself in the real world. And a battle with her sister was worse than an angry judge or whiny lawyer, any day of the week. “Todd and I broke up.” “Oh no, when?”
“Three weeks ago. He’s moving out of the house tomorrow.”
“I’m just hearing about this now? Why didn’t you tell me?” Allison rested a hand on Brook’s arm.
“I thought we might work it out.” She really did. When Todd had announced he wanted to “take a break”,” Brook honestly thought he was just going through some work issues and they’d be back on track by the month’s end. Now they were on a track, all right—a track to separation.
“I take it there’s no hope, huh?”
“No.”
“Then why did you bring him? We could have set you up with one of Adam’s friends if you didn’t want to come alone.” Her voice rose in annoying excitement. “His partner Marco’s kind of a player, or there’s Joe. Either could have been a fun distraction tonight, or for the next twenty years.”
Just what Brook needed. A setup. “Cops, right? I don’t
want to be with a cop. I couldn’t watch them walk out the door every day, not knowing if they were going to come home.”
Allison lifted her drink, and the smile on her lips dissolved into a frown.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s different with you and Adam.” Brook wrapped her fingers around her sister’s hand. Allison didn’t need Brook’s baggage when it came to cops, especially when she was living with one. “Adam’s a detective. He knows what he’s doing. Don’t listen to me. I’m just in a mood. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Allison smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know you worry about Adam and me, but don’t. I worry about him, but his job is as much a part of him as being a man. I’m coming to terms with it.” She raised her glass to Brook, and this time the shadows were gone. “I’m happy… Happier than I’ve been in a long time. I’m just worried about you.”
“I’m happy you’re happy.” Brook stared out the window. “I think there’s something wrong with me. I put myself out there, yet all I find are creeps and losers…or what’s worse, great guys who turn out to be homosexuals.” “What?” Allison’s brow arched in confusion.
“Oh yeah, did I bury the headline? Todd thinks he’s gay.” “Get out!” Allison slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Could you keep it down? I’d rather not have this announced to the world. He swears it has nothing to do with me, but…”
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