Independence: #2 Angel

by Karen Nichols

  Colin looked surprised but stood up. He took the slim, cold fingers in his. “Sit down. And relax. I’ll be right back.”

  Colin walked to the door that led to her private chambers and stepped through to the inner room. Too many memories flooded through him as he stood still and stared.

  He’d been twelve when he was discovered behind the ragged old office building where Andrea Fox worked as a legal intern. Damn, he’d been scrawny and dirty and he was pretty sure he smelled like the trash bins in the alley. He had an old jacket he’d found in one of the dumpsters and it almost wrapped around him twice.

  His jeans had seen better days, but the things he wore hid all the bruises and scrapes. At least, in his twelve year old mind, he was hiding them well. He could still see the young, enthusiastic intern, long pale brown hair and all of twenty-three. He could also still feel the despair and anger when she caught him by the wrist and he’d winced from the pain in a wrenched arm that hadn’t quite healed.

  Somehow, she’d convinced him to trust her enough for her to get food into him, get him clean clothing and a bath and to sleep on her sofa. That memory would be forever his, the constant chatter that filled the empty space because he wouldn’t speak. Not right away. And he could never tell her the truth. Could he?

  But somehow she’d gotten it out of him and hid him. Not that there was anything to hide from. It wasn’t like his step-father actually looked for him.

  And just like that twelve year old, he stood before her desk, waiting. It was what he’d learned a long time ago to do best. Wait and assess. Then act.

  His step-father never knew who was stealing his things. Slowly taking what belonged to him or his mother and removing it from the house where it was safe until he had a place for it on his own.

  “You realize, if the evidence didn’t so clearly support your request, we would both have to recuse ourselves from this case, Colin,” Andrea didn’t bother with the chair. Like always, she perched on the clean edge of her desk. He met a pair of creamy brown eyes that crinkled at the corners.

  “I considered that and have a friend who would handle it for me, if I needed her. But…”

  “But she needs you to be here with her,” Andrea filled in the blank with a nod. “Will I like her?”

  “Yes,” was the immediate answer, knowing a few of his past choices when he was younger. He felt the wince in his expression and even a slight blush when she chuckled. Colin sighed. “How come you let me forget some of the stupid things I did and not all of them?”

  “I let you forget once I’m sure you’ve learned,” she said simply, standing and moving to hug him, pulling on his shoulders for her arms. “I already like her. I can see a bit of a smile in your eyes when you look at her.”

  “Thank you. I planned to bring her to dinner next weekend,” he told her, returning her hug like he always had since he’d gained muscle and height, by lifting her from the floor and listening to the familiar giggle before releasing her and kissing her brow.

  “You know the man and his family, and by family I refer to the people aligned to him. They are merely relatives to Angelica,” Andrea said as she paced before her desk, absently rearranging her robes. “But you realize they are the worst kind to get either of these orders against because they don’t believe they’re doing anything wrong.”

  “I know,” he raked one hand through his hair. “And so does Angel. She already warned me not to blame myself when it doesn’t work.”

  “She’s been dealing with them her whole life, Colin. As much as we want the law to work for the victims, we know it doesn’t always,” she reminded him softly.

  “I am going to talk to her about bringing a very public lawsuit.”

  “Do you honestly believe that’s what’s best, Colin? For her to be on public display because of them?” She watched him closely, accepting the subtle shake of his head.

  “No. But I think the publicity would go a long way toward their compliance with the protection and restraining orders,” Colin felt his gut clench because he knew she was right. He couldn’t put Angel through that kind of display.

  “Ask Mr. Gamble to come in and have a seat. I want to see what the lawyer wants to promise.”

  “I won’t let her bargain on this.”

  “I won’t bargain her safety, either, Colin,” she assured him, her hands behind her as she leaned on the desk again. “They should be in jail for the things they’ve done to her, but I’m not sure you want to put her through all of that, either.”

  “I know she can’t continue to live with the fear. She…when I first met her…they taught her touch was wrong, Andrea. This fear…and self-loathing would fill her eyes with something as simple as holding hands or hugging her friends,” he went to the door leading to the small public chamber. “She has a few friends who made it past the wall, but she keeps them away because of him.”

  He pulled the door open and spoke to the bailiff waiting on the other side before returning and taking a seat in one of the black leather padded office chairs. He leaned back, his arms raised and across his chest, waiting.

  He tried not to dislike the man because of the client he was representing. Like Andrea, he’d done his homework and knew Tyler Gamble had been the attorney for Joseph Morehouse for the last decade. He was in his mid-fifties and good at spinning things in his clients benefit. Including making Angel look like everything had been her fault through the years.

  “Your honor,” he closed the door behind him and moved to the chair she gestured to. “On behalf of my client, I want to thank you for this chance to mediate…”

  “Oh, make no mistake, Mr. Gamble,” Andrea interrupted with a laugh. “There is no mediation. What I’m asking you, is do you believe your client is stable enough to adhere to the orders requested?”

  “I…” that had evidently thrown him for a loop and he sat up straighter in the chair, wary and looking uncomfortable for the first time since entering the courtroom. “My client merely wants a father’s right to help his daughter. He feels she is sincerely troubled…”

  “I’ve read the reports of the people who investigated for me, Mr. Gamble. Mr. Morehouse and his wife kept Angelica outside their inner circle since she was born. When it was discovered that his parishioners felt sorry for him to be raising her alone, he began using that to his advantage and hasn’t stopped. That is unacceptable. Angelica is neither troubled or in need of help. Damaged? Oh, I believe he and his family have caused her a great deal of damage. But despite all that, she’s thriving. She has friends, a business and enjoys both. What she doesn’t enjoy is your client’s abuse, both mental and physical. And that is extremely frowned upon by the law and this court.” Andrea released her hold on the edge of the desk, her arms crossed over her chest. “So answer my question. Will he abide by the orders?”

  “I will advise my client, if you sign the orders, to strictly adhere to them to avoid further legal complications,” he answered in true lawyer speak.

  “Spoken like a true lawyer,” Andrea acknowledged. “Are you a member of his church?”

  “I don’t believe my religious affiliations are important to the matter at hand.”

  “Ahh…I see…then I bet you’ve witnessed their abuse of her,” Andrea nodded slowly. “Which makes you an accessory to said abuse. I also received some DVD’s this morning with footage of the beatings he administered in his ‘church’ because she was such a troubled demon child. It seems the reverend and his sons record their services.”

  “Illegally obtained…”

  “I had a dually appointed member of the police take the search warrant herself,” Andrea tsked. “And I think the lieutenant enjoyed it a little too much. She’s preparing the case personally and will present it to the prosecuting attorney’s office.”

  Tyler Gamble’s jaw tightened.

  “I’ve also issued orders for the police to speak with those sitting in the church watching the abuse and assault on Angelica Morehouse. The membership is clearly wri
tten in their own hands in the register that you complete before each service,” Andrea watched her words sink in. “It would appear there are a great deal of responsible, good, up-standing citizens that permitted open, and clear cut assault on a woman minding her own business her entire life.”

  Colin had slowly unfolded and sat straight in the chair, watching the woman he’d come to care for as a surrogate mother. He’d gone into law because of her influence, because of the belief that the innocent demanded a silent kind of justice that should be theirs.

  He’d given a great deal of thought to bringing a large lawsuit against the membership, as well as the Morehouse family. But she was right. Angel needed released from their hold; she wasn’t interested in retribution.

  “Shall we return to the courtroom, gentlemen and have this settled,” Andrea nodded toward the door, winking at Colin as she passed him through the opening. “Please be seated.” She sat back in her chair and folded her hands on the desk. “Miss Morehouse, would you stand up, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Angel was on her feet, her hands clasped before her.

  “What would you like to come from this proceeding?” Andrea laughed softly at the stunned expression on the younger woman’s face. “Your opinion matters here, my dear. Please, tell me what you would like to happen.”

  “I…I just want to bake. And have friends I don’t have to worry will be hurt because…because my father sends someone to my apartment or my café,” Angel said quietly, her gaze on the judge as she spoke. “They’ve hurt and threatened some of my friends and frightened my staff. I just want them to pretend I’m not here. I was never part of their life when I was little, that’s what I want now. I’m tired of being a dress-up doll they parade before their church patrons. I…I just want them to leave me alone.”

  “Is that all? No monetary retribution? No punishment?”

  “No, ma’am. I…I just want to live my life, my way.”

  “Thank you. Sit, please,” Andrea Fox turned her expression to the stern, no-nonsense look that had straightened out many a teen before her. “Mr. Morehouse…Mrs. Morehouse…and your sons, both present and absent; and lastly, Mr. Leonard…”

  Andrea held up her hand when Earl Leonard stood, about to speak.

  “I have detailed, written depositions from eye-witnesses regarding your assault on Miss Morehouse shortly before Halloween of this year,” she paused thoughtfully. “I am advising Miss Morehouse’s attorney to pursue assault and battery charges against you and I hope he listens to me. The police will be in touch. In the meantime, you are included in this order of protection as well as the restraining order. Violate either of them, Mr. Leonard, and you will be immediately arrested with no bail offered. That is my stipulation on both these orders.” She pulled the documents forward and signed in all the proper places before handing them to her bailiff. “See these are filed, effective immediately, Sam. And open the doors. The proceeding is over.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” the large, bulky uniformed man said with a nod, promptly leaving the chamber without looking back. There was humor in his eyes when he locked the two large doors wide.

  Angel turned curiously at the humming sounds. She climbed to her feet and stared at the collection of people waiting outside the chamber. There was only one reporter and Angel knew her immediately. She’d seen her news reports on television but she’d also seen her at the club.

  Vianne Summers-Clayton smiled at the open doors and leaned a little closer to a woman with a camera on her shoulder. Off to her side, Angel saw Bailey, Patsy and Claire. Her eyes watered and she sniffled, her hands automatically going into the arms of the jacket Colin held out for her.

  “All the reports are public record, Angel,” Colin said very softly near her ear. He wanted to turn and nod a thank you to Andrea but he’d do that later. “Vianne isn’t here to speak with you. If you want, you can give her an interview. I don’t know whether it would be good for you or not. But I think it would go a long way to forcing them to adhere to the orders.”

  “I think I’d like to,” Angel said, watching the blonde fire questions at the people hurrying to leave the courtroom.

  Tyler Gamble tried to stop Morehouse from speaking. Even his wife placed a hand on his arm, suggesting that they simply leave. But the man was angry and that anger translated into a righteous kind of need to explain himself.

  “Let’s go meet your fans.” Colin snapped his briefcase closed and put his free hand against her hip, holding her close.

  Angel couldn’t stop the grin or the tears. She watched Bailey and Patsy bounce on their toes, waiting anxiously off to the side. She slipped out and over to them, the momentary hesitation in her eyes being ignored as the two women crushed her close.

  “How was it? Are you okay?” Bailey looked from her to Colin, who was keeping his gaze on the location of all the members of the opposition.

  “I’m okay,” Angel let out the breath she’d been holding as she was surrounded and hugged. Repeatedly until she had a choice to breathe or faint. She finally lifted her arms and hugged them each in turn. “Thank you for being here. This is a surprise.”

  “I bugged Colin until he confessed,” Bailey said with a chuckle. “And threatened to turn me in to Gabriel. But I knew he needed us here.”

  “And they needed to see us here,” Patsy said with her shoulders back and chin up, returning the glare from Earl Leonard. “I seriously do not like that man.”

  Angel shivered but never looked toward him. She could feel all their anger. She wished she was imagining it, but she knew too intimately how it felt to be a target for them.

  “I need to get to the shop,” she said, a little breathless and shaky.

  “Wait a minute and I’ll…” Colin began, stopping when her head shook.

  “You’ve used a lot of your morning for this,” she turned and kissed him, one hand up and stroking over his cheek. “Thank you. For doing this and for being here with me…for me.”

  “We can drop her at the shop,” Bailey declared with a grin. “Always an excuse for a cookie.”

  “Pack some clothes and bring them to the house after work today,” Colin told her, his hands running up and down her arms slowly. “Especially the things I bought you. It’s Friday and I’d like to take you to the club.”

  “I’d like that,” she admitted with a nod, offering one more kiss before backing away, carefully keeping her gaze on anything but the reporter and the people giving her more information than she probably expected.

  “Be careful,” Colin called softly, watching the three women head toward the elevators. A sense of relief went through him, the laughing voices reaching him as her friends worked to distract her from the past two hours.

  He made a sharp turn, watching Vianne for a couple minutes as she maneuvered and manipulated the reverend and his entourage with her questions. He knew by the slight wink she offered that she was having a damn fine time so he offered a thumbs-up and went to the door a little ways down the hall. He knocked lightly, entering when she called out to him.

  Colin had his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, his jacket pushed back as he kicked the door lightly closed behind him.

  “Now that’s the sullen, angry young man I met a long time ago,” Andrea teased with a chuckle, the pen in her hand moving over one of the notepads before her. “I’m sending my recommendations to the Lieutenant.”

  “You don’t believe this will stop them.”

  “I just finished reading a small file on Earl Leonard,” she said thoughtfully. “He’s under investigation for a lot of things, but is evidently very slippery.” She set the pen down and leaned back in her chair, watching him pace before the window. “Do you believe this will stop them?”

  Andrea exhaled slowly, his head shaking when she met the stoic gaze.

  “I shouldn’t have asked that. I know you well enough to realize all the things I can see in your eyes, Colin. There’s hope…but there’s also anger and fear that you won’t be th
ere to save her if she needs it,” Andrea sighed when he turned away to stare into the light rain falling outside.

  “I’m not eight years old now. I couldn’t help my mother when…but this is different. I’ve interacted with abuse victims since I started practicing and especially when I interned.” Colin felt the lump in his throat at voicing the memories aloud.

  “You aren’t attracted to her because she’s a victim, Colin. And she’s not looking for a hero,” Andrea spoke quietly, the hint of a smile in her words. “I watched you with her. I watched her. This isn’t a passing thing that will fade.”

  “Checked your crystal ball, did you?” He snorted, his head shaking and that annoying shank of dark blonde hair falling over one brow.

  “No. I don’t need one when it comes to you. I never did.”

  “You should have had half a dozen kids,” he finally said after dragging in a long breath.

  “I think Barbara and I had our hands full with one,” she said with a laugh. “Your girl doesn’t know about your family, does she?”

  “Things are complicated,” he growled low in his throat. “Christ, I hate that word.”

  “Most of life comes with complications. I can see where the issues with her father would tend to sour things quickly.”

  “The bastard beat it into her head that touch was bad,” Colin said after a few minutes. “She was date raped when she was barely sixteen, forced into a marriage and then lost the baby. And when she stands up tall and proud in her shop, laughing and playing with kids…”

  “It just all feels very wrong to have been,” she supplied the words softly.

  “I think she’s like…”

  “Like you. All you ever wanted, but would never admit to, was to be a kid and have a mom tuck you in, bake cookies for you and cheer at basketball,” Andrea met the embarrassed blush with a laugh. “And you’re still just as inhibited at some things. I noticed Bailey’s name and Gabe’s. You met her at the club?”