by Tia Louise
“Exactly, Mrs. Clayton. You didn’t think, which is precisely why you won’t speak in your defense. They’ll rip you to shreds.”
Courtney’s chin drops, and I want to scoot forward in my chair and hold her hand, give her my reassurance. It’s just the two of us here at this meeting.
“He said he wanted to talk about Oliver.” Her voice is a bit louder, a touch angrier, and I’m surprised by her sudden show of strength. “I thought I could get him to leave us alone.”
“And how did that go?” The woman’s eyes never leave her notebook. She’s impatient, and I want to throw something at her.
My friend’s shoulders droop, and she exhales. “He told me I was moving home with him. He said I couldn’t hide forever.”
One of the younger male lawyers sits forward. “Tell me, Mrs. Clayton—”
“If you don’t mind,” Courtney interrupts him, “I don’t go by that name anymore. I use my maiden name now. It’s Shaw. You can call me Miss Shaw.”
“Sorry.” The guy makes a note. “Miss Shaw, can you tell me how the gun was introduced into the situation?”
“I didn’t mean to take it out. I was leaving, going to my car, and he followed me.” Courtney talks fast, like she’s embarrassed. “He grabbed my arm, and my bag fell. It hit the ground and he saw it. That’s when he lunged for it, but I beat him to it.”
“So he saw the gun in your bag and tried to take it from you?” The guy repeats.
“Yes. I didn’t want him to get it because it’s registered to me. I didn’t trust him.”
“So you never at any time intended to kill your ex-husband?” The older woman is back in the lead.
Courtney’s eyes go to her lap again, and she doesn’t answer right away. I want to jump in at this point and show them the pictures I took of her neck. I want to show them the pictures she took of my eye after Ozzy chased me into the women’s restroom, but they have all the evidence.
“We’re your lawyers, Miss Shaw. Whatever you tell us is protected by attorney-client privilege.”
She still hesitates, and this time I do scoot forward to hold her hand. She glances at me, giving me a weak smile.
“The last time Ozzy came to my apartment and threatened to kill me, I bought the gun. So I guess you could say I bought it specifically for him. I just never knew when I’d use it.”
Her answer seems to satisfy them.
* * *
“How was your first appointment at Palmetto?” Courtney sits on the end of the bed polishing her toenails. She’s strangely calm, considering what she’s facing.
“It was really great, actually. Mrs. Wolfe is a sweet old lady, and it was cool having someone taking care of all the paperwork for me.”
“I really appreciate you taking over my clients this week.”
“Yeah, well, we need the money.” I exhale, dropping to the bed beside her. “I would say you’re too upset, but I don’t think that’s true. What’s going on?”
She shrugs, moving to her other foot. “I talked to Ollie. He’s so happy being in Fireside. Jesse is out of school already, so they’ve been playing together.”
“You haven’t given up, have you?”
“No, I’m feeling good. Spencer texted me to be strong, and Ollie said he went to see him yesterday—”
“He did?” A pang of hurt cramps in my chest.
She must hear it in my voice, because she frowns up at me. “He still hasn’t called you?”
“It’s okay. I’m sure he has a lot going on.” Such a lie, but whatever. “What did you say? He texted you to be strong? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know exactly. He just said he was working on new information for the defense.”
“And he visited Ollie?”
“Ollie said he dropped by yesterday. They fed Chartreuse, then they walked to Daisy’s house. Ollie was fussing because he had to play with Melody.”
My head is just spinning, and I don’t know whether I’m angry or touched. “That’s… really sweet.”
“Yeah, he told him not to worry about me, that he was taking care of us.” She blinks up at me with worried eyes. “I want to be pissed at him for ghosting you, but he’s so damn good to my son.”
Chewing my lip, I shake my head. “Don’t be mad at him for me. I broke my own rules sleeping with him again. I should be mad at myself.” Scooting closer, I put my arm around my friend. “If he helps get you out of this, I’ll be willing to forgive him for disappearing.”
I just won’t be getting in his bed again.
* * *
“In this preliminary hearing of the people versus Courtney Shaw, the honorable Beverly Wright presiding, all rise.” The bailiff stands at the front of the empty courtroom, and the few of us in attendance stand.
It’s only me in the front row of the seats behind the railing separating the spectators from the small table where Courtney sits with her team of four well-dressed lawyers.
Across the aisle from us, two disheveled attorneys in messy suits, hastily sort through papers. They seem disorganized and disinterested.
I’m having a hard time understanding why anyone would care that the world has one less abuser today.
I guess that’s why I don’t work in law enforcement.
The judge calls for the prosecution to present their case. A woman from the messy lawyer table with tightly curled hair and a pinched expression steps forward. She briefly outlines the case for the judge.
“Miss Shaw left her husband without notice, taking their young son away in the middle of the night.” The woman acts like she knows anything about the situation. “When he tried to meet with her about sharing custody of the child, she pulled a gun on him. He attempted to wrestle it away from her, and she shot him.”
I’m ready to jump to my feet and yell that’s not even close to the whole story when the judge turns the floor over to Courtney’s attorney.
“Your honor, we can establish a pattern of abusive behavior on the part of Mr. Clayton. Miss Shaw filed numerous restraining orders, which he violated.” The woman steps over to a small projector and flips a switch. “These photographs were taken just one month ago when Clayton showed up at the defendant’s apartment and attempted to strangle her.”
“What are you asking, counsel?” The judge lowers her gaze on Courtney’s lawyer, and the woman holds out her hands.
“This is a clear case of self-defense. The prosecution has no one bringing charges against Miss Shaw. The victim was a criminal with no one to vouch for him. Miss Shaw acted in self-defense. We’re requesting all charges be dropped.”
The male lawyer across the aisle jumps to his feet. “Your honor, that’s outrageous. We still have laws in this country. A man cannot be shot in cold blood and nothing done about it. We’re requesting a trial for first-degree murder. No bail, as Miss Shaw is clearly a flight risk.”
Courtney’s hand flies to her mouth, and her face turns ghastly pale. She reaches out, and I want to hug her.
Instead, her lawyer rises slowly, calmly. “Your honor, there is no reason to hold Miss Shaw without bail. She has a job, clients, a son. If she were a flight risk, she would already have run. She clearly believes in the system and justice. We’re asking you to simply review the facts of this case and decide what is clear to see.”
The prosecutor begins to speak, but the judge holds up her hand. “I’ll take a five-minute recess to review the defendant’s case.”
With the bang of a gavel, she stands and leaves the courtroom. We all collapse in our seats. I take a deep breath and sit forward, reaching for Courtney’s arm.
“She’s going to see the truth. I know she is.”
Worry lines my friend’s eyes. “I hope so. I hope it’s enough.”
Holding my smile steady, I say a prayer under my breath. My phone is set to silent because Daisy and my mom are blowing it up with texts wanting to know what’s happening.
We wait what feels like an eternity for the judge to return from reviewing
Courtney’s case. I wish I had included pictures of my cheek after Ozzy chased me into the ladies room, but if the police are anything to go on, it wouldn’t matter. I saw him of my own free will. He didn’t touch me. I fell.
It’s the same thing they’re saying about Courtney. If she were so afraid of him, why would she willingly go with him to a coffee shop?
It’s like none of these people have jobs or children.
My heart jumps when the bailiff returns to the front of the courtroom. “All rise.”
We stand like it’s church, and Judge Wright gathers her black robe as she takes her seat inside the small booth. My breath is stuck in my lungs as I wait for her to tell us her decision.
“It is the opinion of this court Mrs. Clayton acted in haste when she met with her husband last week, armed with a loaded weapon. I’m not convinced she had reason to believe he would harm her that day or she would not have gone to meet him.”
My throat is tight, and I feel the bile rising in my stomach. How can she say this? Didn’t she even see the restraining orders? The pictures I took? He was completely unpredictable.
The black-robed woman continues, her tone actually sounding bored. “I do think Mrs. Clayton was in a difficult situation, but she didn’t pursue the proper remedies to help herself. She didn’t file for divorce; she didn’t seek sole custody—”
“Your honor, if you please.” Courtney’s lawyer is on her feet. “Miss Shaw did file for legal separation on August 27—”
“If she was able to do that, she was able to finish the process.” The judge snaps. “She didn’t leave Columbia or even behave in a manner that would suggest she feared for her life. She continued going to work, sending her son to the same school, living in the same apartment.”
“Your honor, she was attempting to maintain a normal life. She had to work in order to pay her bills. Miss Shaw is not independently wealthy. She’s a poor, single mother with no family nearby, no support system.”
“Regardless, a man lost his life violently in my city.” The judge doesn’t even hesitate. “Based on the information before me here today, I see no reason to dismiss the charges of first-degree murder, and I hereby set a trial date for—”
The wooden doors at the back of the courtroom fly open, and a male voice I know well echoes through the near-empty room. “Your honor, my apologies, if you would please wait. I have new information that will impact your decision.”
Spencer strides up the aisle dressed as always in an expensive suit, but he’s disheveled, his hair’s a gorgeous mess, and he’s not wearing a tie… And I hate how fast my heart beats at the sight of him. I hate that I’m so stupidly happy to see him.
“I object!” The prosecutor is on her feet. “Your honor, we have no idea what this new information might be or who this person even is.”
The judge frowns at Spencer, and he motions to Courtney’s lawyer to join him. “If you would just take a moment, your honor. I came straight from the Dentsville Magistrate with a notarized confession.”
All of the lawyers congregate around the judge’s desk, and Spencer slides several sheets of paper from a brown manila envelope.
“I’ll call a ten-minute recess while we examine this new information. Bailiff, please provide copies to the prosecution and her defense team.”
She stands and leaves the courtroom with the envelope in her hands, and the guard passes out the copies to the lawyers. Spencer walks to the defense table, speaking urgently to the lead attorney. From where I’m sitting, I only catch bits of what he’s saying.
“…hired a private detective the day she came to my house. He’s been following Clayton for weeks…” His brow is lowered, and he’s so focused.
He’s so damn gorgeous.
Courtney stands, and he takes her hand, giving her a smile. “Don’t worry. That piece of paper should wrap this up pretty quickly.”
My friend grasps his hand, and her eyes are so hopeful. I’m standing behind the rail watching with gratitude and pain aching in my chest.
Hazel eyes flicker to mine, and his brow relaxes. “Joselyn—”
His voice is like warm butter, but the bailiff interrupts. “All rise.”
We turn at once to see the judge again taking her seat, a grim expression on her face. My scalp tightens, and I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.
“I spoke to the judge in Dentsville, and it appears these documents are in order. Mr. Carrollton’s private investigator uncovered a conspiracy to kidnap Miss Shaw and take her to a second location where this man had agreed to bury her body. He confessed under oath in exchange for a commuted sentence.”
“Oh!” It’s a sharp gasp from my friend, and I lower my head to my hands.
“Oh, God.” The words slip from my lips, and a sharp bang comes from the podium in front.
“Order in my courtroom.” The judge snaps. “In view of this new evidence, I dismiss the charge of first-degree murder against Miss Shaw. She has confessed to shooting her husband, but as this document establishes imminent danger, I will commute that charge and expunge this from her record.”
The gavel bangs, and the bailiff tells us all to stand again, which we do. I feel outside my body, like I’m not sure what just happened.
It’s all over.
Just like that.
The lawyers shake hands, and tears stream down Courtney’s cheeks as Spencer pulls her into a hug. I step side to side trying to figure out how to get around the silly wooden railing between us when she turns and catches me in a big hug.
“He did it.” Her body trembles in my arms. “He saved us, just like he said he would.”
A knot is in my throat, and I blink back tears as I meet his eyes over her shoulder.
His head is bowed slightly and his jaw is tight. He’s not smiling—he watches us with detached satisfaction. It’s so like him to do something this monumental and then to resist being proud or even to show emotion.
One of the lawyers taps his shoulder, and they shake hands.
Courtney lifts her head and speaks to the woman leading the team. “Can I go now? I really want to see my son.”
“You are free to leave, Miss Shaw. It was a pleasure working with you.”
“Thank you.” Courtney nods. “Thank you, Spencer. So much.”
I’m holding her hand, and we start for the double doors at the back of the room. They’re just closing behind us when a strong hand grasps my upper arm.
“Joselyn, do you have a minute?” Spencer’s hand slides down my arm, and Courtney’s dark eyes meet mine.
I don’t know what she sees, but she pulls out her phone. “I’ll just call Ollie and tell him we’re on our way.”
My heart is lodged in my throat, and I’m not sure I can have a proper conversation with him right now. At least not the one I need to have with him after this week.
Still, it seems I have no choice. He guides me to the side hall, away from the crowd of attorneys leaving the courtroom.
“Your text said you wanted to talk when I got back in town.” He gazes into my eyes with so much intensity. “I didn’t know if you meant now or if you wanted to wait until you came back from Fireside.”
My lips part, and I almost can’t believe him. “You could have texted me then.”
“Should I have?”
He literally seems confused, and I close my eyes as my heart screams, Yes, you should have. We’re in a relationship, dammit!
But my brain reminds me he never said we were…
“Only you can answer that question, Spencer. I have to go. Courtney wants to see her son, and it’s a two-hour drive.”
“Maybe we can have a drink when you get back. Best martinis in town?” He gives me a sexy little half-smile, and I can’t hold back.
My voice is sharp, and fire burns in my chest. “When you told me about your childhood, I was sad. I understood your walls, because you were taught not to love. Maybe you don’t even think you deserve love, but you’re wrong.
; “I love you. I want to give you what they never did. I want to be there for you, to make you laugh and bring you in from the cold. I want to show you a different life, one where you have someone to count on, someone who’s always there for you no matter what.
“But I can’t, and I can’t keep hoping for something you told me wasn’t possible. I wish I could’ve been the woman to make you want more, because I do want more. So this is goodbye. I hope you have the life you want, and I wish you well.”
Turning on my heel, I leave him standing there, watching me go, and in my mind, the last petal falls.
Chapter 30
Spencer
“I checked all the rooms, and I reset the alarm codes.” Tom strides into the living room with a black duffel in his hand. “It’ll prompt you to enter a new code when I leave. Then it’ll just be you.”
“Thank you, Tom.” My voice is quiet. I’m sitting in my favorite wingback chair.
It’s thick brown leather with heavy brass studs along the edges. I found it in Boston at an estate sale where the seller claimed it once belonged to John Quincy Adams.
It was my prized possession.
Gazing at the hand-knotted Persian rug covering the floor, regret tightens my chest. I’m just like him. Alone, in an empty house with only my things.
Why does this bother me? I never minded being alone before.
“Sir?” Tom waits, and I glance up at him.
“Yes?”
“I just wanted to say, it was a great thing you did today. I’ve always thought of myself as something of a silent hero, keeping people safe, but you were the real Tony Stark swooping in there like you did and shutting down that judge.”
My brow relaxes, and I exhale with a smile. “I was only the messenger.”
“You were more than that. You hired the private eye, you chased down the evidence, and I don’t know, but I’m sure you had to grease a few palms to get a notarized confession that fast.”
Leaning back in the chair, I hold up my hands. “No laws were broken in the liberation of Miss Shaw.”
He surprises me with a grin. “Either way, I just wanted to say it before I left.”