by Shenda Paul
"Dieter Quandt has proven that he will not stop of his own volition. He's shown his determination to force his attentions onto a hapless woman who, at every turn, let him know they were unwelcome. He's demonstrated his disdain for the law and the authority of this court.
"Dieter Quandt is, without a doubt, guilty of the crimes with which he has been charged, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury. The Commonwealth asks that you find him so," Jodi concludes.
Judge Notley instructs the jury on points of law before releasing them to their deliberations. The courtroom empties quickly, and we prepare to leave. I arranged for a second hire car. Our regular driver, acting as a decoy, is waiting in plain sight of the media, and the other, parked at the side entrance, will transport Angelique, Mom, Cait and Mandi to our home, where they plan on discussing wedding arrangements. Samuel and Matt will make their own way back to wherever they need to be. I'll travel around the block in the first car, giving Jodi enough time to address the media before returning for her and Duncan.
I ignore the frenzied cries of 'Adam’ and 'Mr. Thorne' and questions about Angelique’s whereabouts as I barge my way through the noisy throng. "Drive, Pete," I urge as soon as I slam the back door on an intrepid reporter and his photographer, hot on my heels. We navigate the block twice before Jodi manages to extricate herself. I already have the door open by the time she reaches the car. Duncan slides in after her, and we’re whisked back to the office.
The jury takes only three and a half hours to reach a verdict. I accompany Jodi and Duncan back to court on my own. Angelique and I discussed the matter last night, and she decided that she didn't need or want to be present for the verdict or sentencing. The most important thing, she said, had been testifying and listening to others’ testimonies. She felt she’d done her part in stopping him and bringing him to justice.
"I hope they've found him guilty," Jodi, being uncharacteristically dramatic, remarks for the third time. "I'm so glad you suggested that I include Angelique’s mother’s victim impact statements in the pre-sentencing document."
"Stop panicking; you've done a fantastic job. He will be convicted," I assure her.
"I don't want to disappoint you or Angelique."
"We won't be disappointed, no matter what happens. I couldn't have done better myself."
"Oh shut up, Thorne; we've already had this argument," she returns good-naturedly, sounding much more like her usual, confident self.
.
.
"Has the jury reached a verdict?" Judge Notley asks.
"We have, Your Honor," the foreperson replies.
"How do you find on the charge of violating the 258E Protection Order?"
"We find the defendant guilty as charged," he answers.
Judge Notley repeats the question for the stalking and harassment-related charges. A guilty verdict is delivered on each count.
"Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury," Judge Notley replies and after thanking them, discharges them of their duty.
"Sentencing will be heard on Monday at nine-forty-five a.m.," he then announces.
The malevolence he feels toward me is clearly visible in Quandt’s eyes when he turns to look at me. I hope he sees the implacable resolve in mine.
"Yes," I silently communicate. "You won’t ever get near her again, and if I have my way, you’ll never set eyes on her again."
Chapter Twenty-Five
The sound of carefree laughter makes me smile, and the sight of Angelique so happy, especially after the last trying days, fills me with deep joy.
"I told you, Mandi, trousseaus are old-fashioned," she says, with that giggle that never ceases to delight.
"The word may be, but the concept isn't. I'm telling you, Angel, you need lingerie that will bring Adam to his knees," Mandi replies.
"How do you know he doesn't already spend a lot of time on his knees?" Cait suggests, arching a challenging brow at Angelique.
"Girls, I don't want to know such things about my son." Mom screws up her nose with distaste, but her voice and eyes sparkling with amusement say otherwise.
"Well, plug your ears, Mom, I want to know," Cait laughs. "Come on, Angelique, give me something," she wheedles.
"Caitlin… I'm not discussing that with you."
"You don't want a hen's party, so this is the only opportunity we get to get dirt—dish!" Mandi demands.
I come to Angelique’s rescue by loudly clearing my throat. Four heads spin around in unison. "Hi," I say nonchalantly, ignoring everyone but Angelique, whose eyes are wide, her luscious mouth opened in surprise. She's so damned lovely with her hair casually piled up and her perfect skin devoid of makeup and awash in a pink blush.
"Hi," she answers after a beat of silence. I don't think I'll ever get used to the sweet ache in my chest when her eyes soften in that way. I cross the kitchen to give her a lingering kiss.
"Eeww!" Cait exclaims in mock-disgust.
"Do you need reinforcements?" I whisper in Angelique’s ear.
"They're quite harmless," she giggles in return.
"I like knee-weakening lingerie."
"I know you do." Her cheeks flush deep pink as she looks up at me, and I smile, knowing that, like me, she's thinking about my response to that incredibly seductive negligee.
"What's the verdict?" Mandi asks impatiently.
"Guilty on all counts," I say, lightly brushing Angelique’s cheek as relief floods her face. "Sentencing’s been set for Monday."
"What do you think he'll get?" Mom asks.
"Potentially ten years; but the judge has the authority to impose a shorter or longer sentence."
"Let’s hope he decides on longer," Mandi says just as her phone beeps. She excuses herself, and when she returns from the living room, announces that Josh has arranged to take her to dinner before they leave the next day.
She and Angelique briefly discuss details for her planned trip to New York to try on wedding dresses. That’s all I’ve been allowed to know, but I don't have any objections. Despite the drama that’s threatened to overshadow it, I want us to look back on our short engagement with pleasure, and I want Angelique to enjoy all the traditions, even if it means keeping secrets from me. I have my own, after all.
I'll be accompanying Angelique and, due to work commitments, will stay for only one night. She suggested that I don’t go and save myself the early Monday morning return flight, but I instantly rejected the idea, the thought of extending our time apart just too unpalatable to me. The trip will also be our last to visit Grace in New York as she’s scheduled to move into the Boston facility next week.
Angelique will help pack the last of her things, and once she’s completed her shopping, they’ll both fly back on a chartered jet. Sharon will move to Boston and into Angelique’s old apartment just before the wedding, around the same time we plan on relocating Grace into her new home.
"Do you have a minute, Sweetheart?" Mom asks when Angelique leaves to see Mandi to the door. I nod, allowing her and Cait to lead the way into the living room.
"Now that we've settled the interim premises for Eleanor’s, I'd like us to consider a low-key opening event," Mom says.
"I know your relationship with the press is strained, Adam, but we need to raise awareness for Eleanor’s," Cait adds before I can respond.
"I'm not going to interfere with your marketing plans, but I am worried about the timing. I don’t want to invite another media frenzy just before our wedding." Cait’s about to protest, but I cut her off. "A low-key event sounds great, but any formal announcements to the press will have to wait until Angelique and I get back."
"Adam’s right," Mom immediately agrees.
"Okay," Cait concedes after a moment’s thought. "It makes sense to wait until we move into the permanent premises anyway. We can invite a few selected journalists to tour the center then, but you do realize that you'll be expected speak to the
press at some stage, don't you?"
"I'm hardly a novice at addressing the media, Cait," I say, irritated by her challenging tone.
"Idiot!" She signs before speaking out loud. "I mean you'll be expected to talk about Eleanor—publicly."
Angelique enters in the middle of Cait’s statement and looks at me worriedly. I pull her onto my lap and press my lips to her temple.
"Adam…" Cait continues, but I interrupt.
"I realize that, Cait, and I'll work on what I want to make public knowledge," I say, still somewhat testily. Angelique runs calming fingers through my hair.
"I just want you to be prepared," Cait points out.
"I appreciate that, Sis," I reply, exhaling a loud breath, "but I knew what to expect when I decided on the name. I just want to do it in a way that respects Eleanor."
"You're already doing that, M'fhiorghrá," Angelique assures me, and I tighten my arms around her appreciatively. We discuss the merits of having a local event next, at the end of which, Mom, Cait, and Angelique commit to having a proposal ready for a family discussion on Saturday.
.
.
On Monday morning, on our way to the designated courtroom, my phone beeps, alerting me to an incoming message.
"I need to respond to this; I'll see you inside, " I tell Jodi and Duncan and make my way to a nearby bench. I have my head bowed while typing a response when two distinctly feminine feet stop in front of me. I don't have to raise my head to know who it is—the waft of perfume informs me. I'd never before realized just how pervasive it is.
"Hello, Lisa," I look up to greet her.
Her lips widen in an inviting smile, and she steps forward, her leg practically touching mine. I stand, only just avoiding contact.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, placing a respectable distance between us.
"I'm not following you, if that's what you're afraid of, Adam," she laughs lightly, despite the tinge of annoyance in her eyes.
"I'm decidedly glad to hear that, but that's not what I meant. Are you here because of a case?"
"I'm visiting Daddy," she says with another smile.
"I hope he's well?" I ask out of politeness.
"He is. Busy as usual, but you'd know more about that than I do." She reaches out to touch my arm, but I step back.
"Oh come on, Adam; there was a time you didn't mind my hands on you," she reminds me coquettishly.
"Things have changed. I would have thought our last conversation made that clear."
"You weren't completely honest, though, were you, Adam?" she asks, her voice icy now.
"I thought I was very forthright, Lisa. Which part of I don't wish to enter into a relationship with you, didn't you understand?" I ask, glancing around to make sure we can’t be overheard.
"Oh, I understood that part. I'm referring to the fact that you denied Madison's claim of being with that…girl."
"Don't refer to my fiancée in that tone or call her a girl as if she's of little consequence. I didn't deny being with anyone; I simply refused to discuss something that isn’t any of your or Madison Tate's business."
Her eyes widen in momentary surprise at my anger before her lip curls in distaste. "I can understand you being drawn to the woman because of her looks, but to become engaged to her? Men have paid to be with her, Adam— you can't actually mean to go through with this farce?"
"What I do is none of your damned business. You don't know anything about my fiancée, how dare you judge her? But to clarify matters; I'm not merely attracted to Angelique, I love her, and I most certainly am marrying her. I don't know what you thought would happen between us, but I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that even if I hadn't met and fallen in love with Angelique, I would not have fallen in love with you. I let your looks and my mistaken belief that we had some things in common cloud my better judgment; but that's all it was, Lisa. Isolated lapses in judgment on my behalf that resulted in sex, which, may I add, you initiated on each occasion."
She’s about to respond, but I stop her, my voice cold and probably more disdainful than it should be, yet the memory of how she spoke of Angelique spurs me on.
"Don't humiliate yourself any further or make me forget that I'm a gentleman. I think we've both said more than enough on the subject; it's time you moved on, Lisa."
I walk away without waiting for a response or a backward glance and suffer only a fleeting pang of regret for having spoken to a woman so callously. I don't think even Mom would blame me on this occasion.
Quandt's sentencing takes twenty-eight minutes, during which time the presence of all relevant parties are confirmed, his convictions are read, and pre-sentencing submissions are acknowledged before Judge Notley addresses court.
"Dieter Quandt, for violation of the 258E Protection Order, you are sentenced to serve two and a half years imprisonment, for the crime of harassment, you are to serve two and a half years and for the crime of stalking, you are sentenced to serve five years. This court orders that your sentences be served consecutively.
"Your pattern of behavior is of grave concern, and it is the belief of this court that it will not change without professional intervention. It is, therefore, ordered that upon release, you be placed under psychiatric supervision until a court of law deems it suitable to lift the order."
With those words having been spoken, I feel satisfied that Angelique has received the maximum justice allowable under the law. Quandt will probably earn some reprieve for good behavior, but I'll ensure that we’re kept informed of his status of incarceration and take the necessary precautions to safeguard Angelique when he’s released. Other than that, she can safely put this dark chapter of her life behind her.
"Congratulations, Counselor," I hug Jodi as the room empties. "You did a fantastic job. You too, Duncan," I say, shaking his hand.
"We did a wonderful job. I couldn’t have done it without your help, Adam." She gives me her ‘don’t argue’ look, and when she’s ready, we leave via the side door and hail down a cab a short distance away. Once settled in the back, I call Angelique to share the good news. Jodi is on the phone also, speaking with Jon, no doubt.
"I'm so relieved," Angelique says, her voice cracking with emotion. "Thank you, for everything, Adam, and please thank Jodi and Duncan. Tell her I'll speak to her soon."
"You don't owe me any thanks, Darling, and Jodi and Duncan are with me; I'll let them know." I ask about her morning then, and she informs me they're making good headway on plans for the opening, and Mom, she says, is excited by her ideas for the stranger danger program. "It seems like a fitting way to end my experience with Dieter," she adds, and I remind her that it's because of her strength of character and compassion that something positive will come out of it.
I call Jon as soon as I reach my office and arrange to meet for a quick lunch. The rest of the morning is spent with Daniel, preparing for our upcoming trial. The more I read about the defendant Charles, known as Chuck, Casady, the more convinced I am that only jail time will make him realize the recklessness of driving while drunk. I'm not sure how much of his written expression of remorse is due to genuine regret for injuring a child, or whether it was done to seek the court’s leniency. Either way, I intend to throw the book at Mr. Casady before he ends up killing or permanently maiming someone.
I run into Jodi in the elevator on my way to meet Jon. "You've stolen my lunch date," she accuses.
"We have things to discuss."
"Things?" she challenges.
"Secret things," I say to rile her.
"Secret? Her eyes light with anticipation.
"You do know the meaning of secret, don't you?"
"Come on, Thorne, spill!" She punches my arm lightly.
"You're a violent little thing, Maddox. Jon can tell you later—if he decides to," I add to further irritate her.
"Ugh! You're such a man."
"Thank you
," I respond with a laugh. "Anyway, where are you going?"
"To get a sandwich to eat at my desk because my lunch date can't make it."
"The turkey on rye is good," I respond dryly to her feigned disgruntlement.
Jon's already seated when I arrive, and while we wait for our food, we discuss the cases we're currently working on. Halfway through our meal, I raise my reason for inviting him.
"I know you and Jodi have already accepted our wedding invitation…"
"We're really looking forward to it," he jumps in enthusiastically. "Just four weeks away now; how do you feel about it all?"
"I can't wait. Jon, I wanted to ask something special of you."
"Well, it always helps when the groom's eager," he jokes before turning serious. "What is it, Adam?"
"I know we haven't known each other long, but I consider you a friend, and I'd be honored if you'd agree to be my groomsman. Please don't feel obligated in any way," I hastily add at his apparent astonishment.
"I'd be honored to stand up with you, Adam. I am surprised, though. I'd have thought you had plenty of friends to choose from."
"I do have a few very good friends. Matt’s my oldest male friend and like a brother to me, and not only because he married Cait. He was the obvious choice to be my best man, and I'm asking you because I like and respect you and because both Angelique and I value your friendship."
"I think of you as a friend too, Adam—and Angelique, of course. You and I have a lot in common, more than I have with some of my long-time friends, to be honest, so I feel privileged that you asked. And the answer is yes; just let me know what you need me to do."
"Thank you, Jon. There's not much to do, really; a fitting for tuxedos, but other than being there for the formal parts of the ceremony and reception, you'll be free to enjoy the time with Jodi. You'll be escorting Angelique's friend, Samantha down the aisle. Mandi's her maid-of-honor as you probably would have guessed. She and Samantha will be arriving a few days before the wedding, so we'll both get to meet Sam then."
We discuss plans for the ceremony next, and he again asks that I let him know what he can do. I assure him I will before beckoning the waiter to settle the bill. On our way out, I tell him about my conversation with Jodi.