Without Justice

by Carsen Taite

  Her words were vague, but they were also true. Her heart wasn’t into anything right now, and the prospect of running into Emily at the club was a nonstarter. She prayed Monica would drop the subject.

  Not a chance. “I call bullshit,” Monica said. “I’m talking to you not as your boss, but as someone who’d be a friend if you’d bother to let anyone in. Half the folks who work here are under the impression you think you’re too good for them since you barely speak, and you don’t make any attempt to be part of the group. I think it’s something else, and I’ve got some ideas, but I’ll keep those to myself. I do know this,” she said, shaking a finger in Cade’s face, “if you close yourself off like this, you’re never going to be happy.”

  Cade flinched at the proclamation, but she couldn’t deny the truth. Monica was right, but the problem was Cade didn’t think she could ever be happy, and she saw no way out of it. Yet, something Monica had said sparked her to ask, “What are your ideas?”

  “What?”

  “You said you have some ideas, but you’d keep those to yourself. What are they?”

  Monica shook her head. “I’m no gossip.”

  “Is it really gossip if you’re talking to the person the gossip’s about?” Cade smiled as she took a moment to digest the crazy of her own thoughts. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, but this doesn’t involve just you, and I think you know that. All I’ll say is this. If you’re scared to go out in public because of who you might run into, you’re going to have a hard time making it around here. You might have to move to a bigger city.”

  Cade digested the revelation that Monica knew she and Emily were on the outs, and bit back the impulse to say she would move in a heartbeat if she had the option. From the outside looking in, she had it good here. A low stress job, a nice house in a quiet neighborhood, enough money to provide for whatever she needed, but she missed the things she’d lost, like her condo in the city and the identity defined by her career. She knew she should be happy she was alive and protected. All her basic needs were met except one, and it didn’t matter where she lived, she’d never have love because it required honesty, a currency she could never spend. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

  Monica shook her head and started to walk away but turned back. “Tell you what. I’m having a couple of close friends over for dinner on Friday night—” Cade started to speak, but Monica held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. Bring a bottle of wine and show up at my place at seven. You can pretend to have fun, if you want, but it’ll make me feel better to know you’re not sitting at home sulking. I’ll text you the address.”

  Cade heard the gentle, caring tone behind Monica’s command, but the idea of spending the evening with well-meaning strangers was more than she could bear. To keep the peace, she said, “I’ll do my best.”

  Apparently satisfied her work was done, Monica left, and Cade looked back at her computer screen feeling a tiny bit better than she had before Monica had bullied her into submission. She dug into the project in front of her, relishing the opportunity to set aside thoughts of Emily and all the other things she couldn’t have.

  A couple of hours later, she wandered into the student union to grab some lunch. She was standing in line for a burger and fries, when she heard someone directly behind her say, “Are you really going to put that poison in your body?” When she turned around, she recognized the twenty-something blogger she’d met the day of Kevin Miller’s bond hearing.

  Cade looked over her shoulder, certain the kid wasn’t talking to her.

  “Yes, I mean you,” blogger girl said. “I expect the other students not to know better, or even to care, but you’re a teacher.”

  “You should probably get your facts straight. I’m just a librarian in need of French fries.”

  “There’s absolutely nothing on that menu that won’t leave you with clogged arteries and indigestion.”

  “Yep.” Maybe if I ignore her she’ll go away. Cade turned back to face the front of the line and willed the short order line to move faster or blogger girl to lose interest.

  No such luck. The girl stepped up next to her and said, “You were at Kevin Miller’s hearing.”

  Cade stared at the girl while she tried to shift gears. “Excuse me?”

  “You know, the murder case. Kevin Miller? He’s going on trial in a couple of weeks. I can’t get anyone involved with the case to talk to me about it. Emily Sinclair said she’d meet with me, but she hasn’t returned my calls, and Miller’s attorney said he doesn’t talk to bloggers. I think it’s because I’m a girl, which is crazy, but he’s pretty young so he should understand how important blogs are in the news world. Whatcha think?”

  Holy hell, this girl was a pistol. Cade pondered how badly she wanted the greasy lunch she was about to order. There were three people ahead of her in line, and she didn’t think she could take this kid’s rapid-fire interrogation much longer. “Don’t have a clue.”

  “But you know Sinclair, don’t you? I mean you were there. We met. Remember? I’m Asher, Asher Risley, The Risley Report.”

  Cade remembered the meeting, but she’d been too preoccupied at the time with talking to Emily to remember this girl’s name. She looked down at Asher’s outstretched hand. She didn’t want to engage with her, but impulse made her grasp her outstretched hand, and she was surprised at the firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, Asher,” she said, because it was the polite thing to say.

  “You can call me Ash if you want. A lot of people do. What’s your name?”

  “Cade Kelly.”

  “That’s a cool name. Are you Irish?”

  Cade started to say no, but decided instead it was the perfect time to test out one of the many little white lies that accompanied her identity. “Definitely have Irish blood in the family. How about you? Asher’s a pretty unusual name.” She didn’t say “for a girl,” but she was thinking it.

  “Yeah, my parents were convinced they were having a boy, but when I popped out, they were already in love with the name, so they stuck with it. Don’t think I haven’t endured plenty of eye rolls, especially out here in the sticks.”

  “What made you want to go to college in the sticks?” Cade couldn’t resist hearing the rest of the story.

  Asher shrugged. “It’s a good school, especially for journalism. And I got a juicy scholarship.”

  “Makes sense. Do you like it here?”

  Asher cocked her head. “You’re good.”

  “Come again?”

  “At changing the subject. Suddenly, we’re talking about me, and you’ve never answered any of my questions. Pretty smooth.”

  Cade found the impertinence refreshing and she had to laugh. “I wouldn’t say I’m smooth. If you’re looking for a scoop, I’m not your gal. I don’t know anything about the Miller case, and Ms. Sinclair and I are only acquaintances.”

  She struggled not to wince with the last words. Acquaintance. The word didn’t even come close to describing what Emily was to her, but she couldn’t think of any other way to encapsulate what they’d become. An undeniable attraction, followed by riveting conversation, laughs, and mind-blowing sex would normally equate to at least part-time lover status, but add in the implosion and the fact she wasn’t at all who Emily thought she was, and no label seemed to fit. Fraud was the closest, but admitting fraud cast a cloud over everything they’d shared.

  Her gaze returned to Asher who was staring intently. “Why are you in this line if you think the food is poison?”

  “Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

  “So you’d eat a burger if it meant you’d get a scoop?”

  “I’d pretend to.”

  Cade laughed again. She didn’t want to, but she liked this kid. “Tell you what, I can’t talk to Ms. Sinclair for you, but I work in the library and have access to LexisNexis and a ton of other helpful sites. If I can help you with research for the case, background information, that kind of thing, let me know.
”

  “Really? You’d do that for me?”

  “Sure, but under one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  Cade wasn’t entirely sure whether she was interested in hearing about the case, or if her question was a ploy to get information about what Emily was up to, but she ignored the voice in her head telling her not to get involved. She plunged in. “Tell me what you know so far.”

  “Hey.” The kid behind the counter adjusted his white cook hat and leaned toward them. “Are you two going to stand there all day?”

  Cade looked up to see the line in front of them had disappeared. “Sorry about that.” She grinned at Asher as she asked him, “You have any salads back there?”

  A few minutes later, she joined Asher, who’d abandoned her at the burger stand to make a trip to the salad bar. They were at the same table where she’d had lunch with Kennedy last month, the day of the criminal justice panel—the day she counted as her first date with Emily. Kennedy didn’t approve of her seeing Emily, and she would probably have a serious issue with her getting involved with the Miller case, even in this most tangential way. She took a bite of her burger and decided she didn’t give a damn what Kennedy thought.

  “So, what do you want to know?” Asher asked.

  Cade watched her shovel a forkful of greens topped with sprouts into her mouth. “Do you really eat all that rabbit food without any dressing?”

  “The stuff they have here is loaded with sugar.”

  “Not following.”

  “Uh, no.” Asher put her fork down. “Are we here to talk about my eating habits or the case? Tell me what you want to know.”

  “Everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Am I not enunciating my words? Yes, everything. I only know what I’ve seen in the papers. A man was robbed, shot, and stabbed. I know he worked here, in the administration. I know the defendant is in jail on a high bond, and his trial is set for a few weeks from now.”

  “Two weeks to be exact.”

  Had it really been two weeks since she’d seen Emily? Were they still going forward with the crazy fast trial date? “Unbelievable.”

  “What?”

  Cade shook her head. “Nothing. Seems fast is all.”

  “That’s what I thought, but Sheriff Nash said it’s no big deal. He said Miller’s attorney is just getting it over with fast since it’s a total loser of a case.”

  “Sounds like something he would say.”

  “I know, right? He’s kind of a jerk.” Asher set her fork down. “Okay, well, you know a little, but not much. Here’s what I’ve put together so far.”

  Cade listened as Asher relayed the details of the case, and she was surprised at all the specifics she’d managed to avoid. While she kept a close eye on the news for any mention of Leo Fontana, since she’d broken things off with Emily, she had made it a practice to switch the channel or stop reading whenever the Miller case was mentioned. Now, after hearing a few choice details, her curiosity was fully engaged.

  “This guy, the eyewitness—”

  “Ralph Thatcher,” Asher said.

  “Right, Thatcher. He didn’t actually see the murder take place?”

  “That’s right. He lives next door to Mr. Wade. He drove up in time to see Kevin Miller going through Mr. Wade’s pockets. He shouted ‘What’s going on?’ and Miller took off.”

  Cade nodded for her to go on, but she mentally logged a few additional questions to ask later.

  “So, then Thatcher calls the sheriff’s office, and they send out a crew of deputies.”

  “Crime scene analysis?”

  “Eventually, but first it was a couple of deputies on patrol.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Hello, FOIA,” Asher said with a duh-isn’t-it-obvious tone. “I got a copy of the report from the sheriff’s office.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Plus, I listen to the police scanner every night.” She pointed at her phone. “On an app. I don’t think the sheriff realizes there is such a thing, so please don’t tell him. Knowing him, he would figure out a way to block transmissions.”

  “Who me?” Cade finished her fries and looked at her watch. She needed to get back to the library, but she was actually enjoying herself for the first time in a couple of weeks and was reluctant to go. Asher’s natural curiosity and attention to detail reminded her of herself as a young prosecutor, hungry to stand out among her peers. She decided another few minutes wouldn’t hurt. “Okay, so back to the case. Wade was shot. Just once or what?”

  “Just once in the center of his chest, but that wasn’t what killed him.”

  “Come again?”

  “He might have recovered from the gunshot wound, especially since Thatcher heard it and called the cops so quickly, but he didn’t have a chance with a slit throat. Guy got his jugular, and he bled out in less than five minutes. Apparently, he lost like—”

  Cade gripped the sides of the table, and the rest of Asher’s words faded. The blood rushed from her face, and her entire body grew cold and still. She must’ve heard Asher wrong. Her imagination was playing tricks on her.

  “You okay?” Asher asked. “You look kinda pale.”

  “Tell me again what you said about his throat.” Cade could barely get the command out, but she had to know more. Asher recited the details of the wounds Wade had suffered with the same tone she might use to read a grocery list. To her, these specifics were pieces of a puzzle, but to Cade, her worst fear had come to life. She listened carefully to every word, praying her growing anxiety didn’t cause her to black out before she could figure out her next step. She had to get out of here. Away from this job, this town, this county, this state, and she had to do it fast.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emily sank into the chair and watched Becca prep the perfect pour-over. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve been dying to get over here.”

  “You know you’re welcome anytime. I figured you’ve been busy with work. Lord knows nothing else decent has been occupying your time.”

  A week ago, Becca had called to let her know the local gossip mill was reporting the nice-looking librarian hadn’t been coming around the DA’s house anymore. Not for the first time, Emily wished she could have all the benefits of small town living without the drag of knowing everything she did was fodder for public consumption. She’d told Becca the whole story, starting with how she’d finally gotten laid, but doing so had apparently been a big mistake since Cade went running the same night, and she hadn’t heard from her since.

  “Work is decent and it fills all my time,” Emily said. “That other thing is for the best.”

  “‘That other thing’ was the best thing that had happened to you in a while. Good-looking, smart, funny. You sure did perk up when you were around her, and you didn’t seem to be letting work get in your way when she was available.”

  “Then it’s a good thing she’s not, because I don’t have time. The trial is in two weeks.”

  “How do you know she’s not available?”

  “I don’t, but it doesn’t matter.”

  “Call her.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “Besides the fact I’m so freaking busy I can’t see straight?” Emily took a breath. Becca was her best friend, and she owed her honesty. Her flip answer didn’t begin to touch the surface of what was really motivating her to wall off her feelings for Cade. She’d exposed parts of herself to someone she barely knew—that was the problem. “I don’t know a damn thing about her.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Seriously, Becca, I know surface things, but there were several times when we were talking, that I knew she was holding something back.”

  “Even in bed?”

  “No.” Within seconds of her denial, a memory flashed through her mind. The scar along Cade’s side. She knew a bullet hole when she saw one, and it was clear Cade had been on the wrong end of a gun at some point
in her life. Hunting accident, my ass.

  If she didn’t have a litany of other examples where Cade ducked questions or offered vague answers, then she might be able to write off her nagging inner voice warning her to proceed with caution. But it didn’t matter anyway. Cade had walked away and she wasn’t coming back. Emily felt bad about the way things had ended, but she supposed it was inevitable. Her life was transparent and she couldn’t afford, professionally or personally, to risk a relationship with someone who had so many secrets.

  She took the cup of coffee Becca handed to her. “Look, it’s complicated. Can this be one of those times where you trust me when I say it’s over and agree not to hassle me about it?”

  Becca smiled. “I wasn’t aware we had those times, but I suppose I could give you a pass just this once.” She paused to take a sip of coffee. “On one condition.”

  Emily would do just about anything to get Becca to back off the subject of Cade Kelly. “Let’s hear it.”

  “When this trial is over, you’ll finally agree to go out on the town with me, and by town, I mean some place where you don’t already know everyone. Dallas, Fort Worth, your pick.” She held up a hand as if to stave off any protest. “Meeting someone from out of town who doesn’t already know your life story, might do you good.”

  Cade had fit Becca’s description, and look how things had turned out. Besides, someone who lived a couple hundred miles away would never be anything more than a fling, since Emily had built her future around a life in Bodark. She started to list all the reasons Becca’s idea wouldn’t work, but when she saw the look of concern in her eyes, she decided to agree for now and fight the point later. Maybe by then she would have forgotten all about Cade Kelly.

  *

  Cade heard the sound of a car, and she looked out the window in time to see Kennedy’s Jeep round the corner and pull to a stop out front. In a bizarre mirror image, she saw Mavis Percy’s face peering out her curtains. When Kennedy jumped down from her vehicle, Cade could swear Mavis was tracking her movements. Great.

  She listened at the door, and when she heard the heavy footfalls of Kennedy’s boots hit the porch, she cracked the door just enough to see her face. “Took you long enough,” she said, opening the door wider to allow Kennedy in before slamming it shut and throwing all the locks.