Justice for All

by Olivia Hardin

  “Kay, what does it matter if I remember? Daddy remembers Aunt Iggie. And Daddy believes this is her son.”

  He sounded just as exasperated as she felt. Kay sipped her coffee and gazed out into nothing. “You know what she did to Daddy. Nanny told us how it broke his heart when she left, how he spent months away and how it came between him and Momma. Nanny used to say it was like a cloud hanging over the entire...”

  “Nanny didn’t know everything. She had a soft spot for Mom because she was her Nanny, but she didn’t know Aunt Iggie. She shouldn’t have tried to poison us about her. I was old enough to know what she was doing.”

  Kay waved her hand at him. “That doesn’t matter. No matter what she told us, part of our childhood was missing our dad because of Aunt Iggie. He was depressed, he was caught up in looking for her for years and … and it’s wrong, Jeremy, but when I look at Brennan, I think of that. And it pisses me off!”

  “So you’re going to blame him for the sins of his mother? That’s not like you.”

  How did he know what she was or wasn’t like her? Sometimes she didn’t think she even knew. “You’re right.”

  “There’s something else. What’s wrong?”

  Kay lifted her shoulders and rolled her neck a few times. “Nothing. I don’t know, something.”

  He didn’t say anything else, just waited with the utmost patience for her to collect her thoughts. Finally, she tapped at her coffee cup with one fingernail and looked up at him.

  “I have the most uncomfortable feel about it, Jeremy. Like … like if I let myself like him, I’ll be banished to my room or something.”

  Jeremy laughed, then stood and rounded the table to put his hands on her shoulders. “Kay, you aren’t a child, and Nanny’s not here to punish you anymore. It would make Daddy happy if you could try to get along with them.”

  Nanny wasn’t the one she was thinking of at that moment. In truth, Kay realized Nanny had always just been an extension of her mother’s own thoughts and wishes. Her mother hadn’t ever forgiven Aunt Iggie for what she’d done to their family and to Daddy. And she’d ingrained that in Kay’s mind. And for all of her willfulness, all Kay ever wanted as a child was for her momma to be proud of her. Somehow she always managed to fall short of the noble countess’s expectation.

  Chattering and slamming doors echoed through the house, and Jeremy gave her a comforting squeeze before speaking. “Well, sounds like the fun’s about to begin. Decorating and presents and caroling galore.”

  Warmth tingled in Kay’s chest and she smiled, thinking of the children opening their gifts. With a deep sigh, she planted her hands onto the table and pushed herself to stand. “Jeremy.”

  Her brother looked down at her with both brows lifted in question.

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, sis.” He kissed her forehead and exited the room.

  After he’d left, Kay cleaned up the last of her breakfast and brought the leftover pastries and coffee back to the kitchen. After some digging around, she located the cider left for them in the refrigerator by the staff. She carefully heated it and poured several glasses, garnishing them each with a stick of cinnamon. Placing them all on a tray, she made her way slowly down the hall to the den. Using her backside to push her way into the partly opened door, she lifted the tray a bit in display and called out, “Cider, anyone?”

  Hope turned swiftly from speaking with her father, eyes wide in surprise. Their gazes met, and for a moment time stood still. The baby made a sound, and she looked at the little blonde cherub, instant affection for the charming baby impossible to deny. When her eyes returned to Hope’s, a sliver of understanding replaced her previous distrust and anger. She smiled a bit and nodded to the woman, then turned her attention to passing out cups of hot Christmas cider.

  “Damn.” Van tossed his razor into the sink and plopped down onto the rim of the tub as he switched his cell phone to the opposite ear, “Does Kay know?”

  “No, sir. You’re the attorney on the case, so I thought I should contact you first.”

  The receptionist’s voice was timid and nervous. Van wasn’t scolding her. She’d done exactly as she should have. The last thing he wanted was for this news to ruin Kay’s Christmas holiday.

  “You did fine, Callie. Call Mrs. Faucett and schedule her for tomorrow at noon. Also, make sure she has my cell phone and remind her she can contact me at any time.”

  “Yes, Mr. Van Buren.”

  “Have Tamara call me later … scratch that. I’ll contact her. When is Kay scheduled to return to the office?”

  There was a pause and the sound of clicking, indicating the receptionist was checking the office online calendar. “She won’t be back until the 28th. Should I have her…”

  “No, Callie. That’s not necessary. Just contact Mrs. Faucett. Email me to confirm she’s scheduled.”

  After hitting the end button, Van combed a hand through his wet hair and stared into the steamy bathroom for a moment. Mrs. Faucett was doing exactly what he’d worried she might. She wanted to drop the suit and reconcile with her husband. The blow of the judge’s ruling was bearing down on her, and she couldn’t stand the pressure and uncertainty.

  Mr. Faucett’s attorneys had been shrewd in their dealings. By insisting on mutual injunctions limiting the use of community monies, they’d given Charise a reason to go back to her husband. It was true that Mr. Faucett had the same restrictions, but he was a gambling man betting on his wife’s emotions. It wasn’t easy to get used to a different lifestyle, and even with the threat of abuse looming, the financial uncertainty was much more menacing to her. Better the devil you know than the one you don’t.

  Kay wouldn’t like this one bit. “Another lesson to be learned,” he murmured to himself.

  Finishing up in the bathroom, Van found the hens and several cousins communing in the kitchen over cups of coffee and leftover Christmas bread.

  “Good morning, ladies,” he grinned, going first to his mother to kiss her cheek and then to the coffee maker to pour himself a hefty mug.

  “Want some bread?” his mom asked.

  He shook his head as he slurped a long sip.

  Aunt Mac piped in next. “I could make you an omelet.”

  Van frowned and put a hand to his stomach, sucking in his gut so that it concaved in towards his spine. “Are you guys trying to express some sort of displeasure with my svelte figure?”

  His cousin Marjory giggled. “Of course they’re not. If anything you need to cut back a little on the eggs.” When she smacked him in the belly, he doubled over in feigned pain.

  “We’re taking the leftovers to the church, and then we’re going to do some shopping. Can you keep an eye on the kiddos?”

  Van rolled his eyes but grinned. “Sure. I’ve had a little change of plans though, so you’ll have to get back by this afternoon. I need to get home tonight for an appointment tomorrow.”

  His mother gasped and fretted with her apron. “Oh, Van. Is it really necessary? Can’t someone else cover?”

  Someone else could, sure. Most of the other partners might have called the intern – in this case Kay – and have her conduct the meeting. But for reasons he still couldn’t comprehend, he just couldn’t bear to put a pall on her holiday. Either Mrs. Faucett was going to fold or she wasn’t. Kay coming back to work early wouldn’t change that.

  “Sorry, Mom. I have to take care of this one. But I’ll be back over on New Year’s to work on the porch like we talked about, okay?”

  “Humph.” She closed her eyes and sniffed. “A man your age shouldn’t spend New Year’s with his mother. You should be with the blonde. My porch can wait.”

  “Oh, Aunt Ginny,” Marjory laughed, curling her arm inside his mom’s and leading her towards the hallway. “Haven’t you already talked the blonde issue to death?”

  It was true his mother had brought up her strange vision to the entire family over Christmas, insisting that next year he would have to bring the woman to enjoy the
holiday with his family and opining about whether their children would be dark or light.

  The hens and the chicks made their way out of the room and Van poured himself a second cup of coffee. He located Tamara’s number and sent her a text, asking her if she could be in the office tomorrow morning at ten, then cut a piece of bread while waiting for a reply. A few minutes later he had her response and also Callie’s confirmation that Mrs. Faucett would be there at noon the next day. Satisfied that he had that angle covered, he slipped his phone into his pocket with the ringer on the highest setting just in case Mrs. Faucett chose to call.

  Still, he knew she wouldn’t. She could have called him when she first began to have doubts about the case. His cell phone was provided to all of his family law clients, especially the domestic violence ones. Charise Faucett would arrive tomorrow, firm in her decision and intent on getting a refund of any monies not already spent. He’d seen it before.

  Still, in abuse cases that involved children, it was never easy.

  He knew Kay had a soft spot for this case. She’d spent a good deal of time with Mrs. Faucett and with her children and other family. Sometimes one could get tunnel vision in those instances. It was part of why he liked to have a team of at least two people working on those cases. What one couldn’t see, the other might catch.

  He could force away the work thoughts, but not other thoughts of Kay. He wondered how her Christmas had been and what she was doing right that moment. Could she still be in bed, buried in a pile of blankets and her expression soft with dreams? He smiled into his cup of coffee and considered that, getting lost in the images playing in his mind.

  ~oOo~

  Kay was just in the middle of a late morning game of Scrabble with Meg and her father when her cell phone began to vibrate in her pocket. She frowned and reached for it, wondering who it could be. Thomas had been texting and calling her nonstop since the day before, and so she’d eventually sent him a nice text wishing him a Merry Christmas for the umpteenth time then blocked his number on her phone.

  She didn’t recognize this number, so she just let it roll into voice mail. After playing her next move, she hit the buttons to recover the message.

  “Miss Rawley, this is Mrs. Tiner, Charise’s mother. I’m so sorry to call like this. I know it’s Christmas, but I didn’t know what else to do. Charise is gone. She left early in the morning and took the boys. Her note says she’s going to go back to Scott, and I don’t know what to do.”

  Kay’s stomach sank, and she shook her head as if she could deny the implications of Mrs. Tiner’s message. Could she really have been that wrong about Mrs. Faucett?

  “Your turn, Kay,” her father announced, gaining her attention with his booming voice.

  She gave her letters a quick glance, then dropped two of them onto the board and then tapped out a text to Tamara.

  Are you in the office today? I need to get Mrs. Faucett’s phone number.

  “Parkour? Daddy…” Meg whined, reaching for the tattered old dictionary she kept just beside her for their games.

  For his part, Lord Rawley dug his hand into his shirt pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper, handing it calmly to his daughter-in-law. “Not going to be in there, Meg. Your book is entirely too old. This word was added in 2011.”

  Kay grinned and shook her head, proceeding onto her turn and spelling out the word urn from her father’s last play. As Meg studied the paper, he leaned in close to Kay and murmured, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waiting to get just the right tiles to play one of those new dictionary words?”

  Laughing, Kay watched as Meg frowned and then tucked the list of new words carefully into her tattered dictionary. As her sister-in-law studied her next play, her phone began to buzz again, and she looked down to see a text from Tamara.

  Not there today, but Van wants me there tomorrow for a meeting with her.

  The sinking feeling in her belly turned into a pit of nerves. She wondered why Van hadn’t called her. Frustrated, she tapped out that very message to Tamara. It didn’t take long to get her reply.

  Probably didn’t want to bother you over the holidays. Wished he hadn’t bothered me either. :-p

  Kay smiled but didn’t really feel any better. Her thoughts turned to little Junior and Brian Faucett and the things they’d seen and experienced with their father. The worry and pain in their eyes were just as real to Kay as the bruises she’d seen on Charise Faucett’s body.

  What time is the appointment tomorrow?

  “Are you all right, Kay?” Meg asked, reached forward to touch her fingers to the top of Kay’s hands. “You looked a little piqued.”

  Sighing and slipping her hand back into her lap, Kay nodded. “I’m fine. Something’s come up with work, though.” She stood up from the table. About that time, Hope came in with a bright-eyed Michelle in her arms.

  “Good morning,” she said, her voice soft and tenuous as she looked at Kay, probably trying to discern what type of greeting she would receive.

  “Oh, Hope, good. Why don’t you take my place?” She held out her chair and motioned for the brunette to sit. “I have to check on a few things at the office.”

  A glance at her father showed his concern and displeasure, but he chewed his lip without saying anything. She forced a reassuring smile for him and then looked at her phone as she left the room.

  Appointment is noon. I’m to be there at 10. Hey, girl, gotta go. I’ll check with you later. Hope you had a Merry Christmas.

  Van sat back in his chair, elbow on the table and chin resting in his hand. One finger rubbed his upper lip as he listened to Mrs. Faucett provide her dissertation about why she needed to reconcile with her husband. He had suitable rebuttals for every one of her reasons. But he’d been at this long enough to know that nothing he said would change her mind.

  It takes a woman an average of seven times to leave an abusive relationship for good.

  “Have you ever separated from your husband before, Mrs. Faucett?” he interrupted.

  She blinked, startled by the question. “Twice, but I didn’t really mean it. I took the kids to my mom’s, but I’ve never filed for divorce. I don’t know what I was thinking…”

  Her voice trailed off, and her gaze got a faraway look. She pinched her forehead tight in a frown, and he figured she was trying to decide where she’d left off so that she could pick up her carefully practiced monologue again.

  Tamara stepped into the conference room with a stack of papers. He nodded a thank you and began reading through them. “Go ahead and finish what you were saying, Mrs. Faucett.”

  “I just mean that I love my husband. And abandoning our years of marriage isn’t something I should even be considering. My life is good, and my children are happy. Why should I uproot them, change the things they are accustomed to just because things are difficult? We should…”

  “You should put your children first.”

  Van and Charise Faucett both turned simultaneously to find Kay standing in the open doorway. The office had been all but empty, with most everyone in the firm still on holiday, so there’d been no reason to close the door.

  “Kay, please sit down and join us,” he said, voice level but with a hint of warning. When he saw the way she stalked towards his side of the table, shoulders back and hands fisted, he knew she hadn’t registered that cautionary.

  “How can you even be considering this?”

  Charise brought a hand to her face, covering her mouth with trembling fingers. Her breath was coming in long gasps, and for a moment he thought she might burst into tears. Then her eyes flashed, and a new emotion emerged. “I’m making the best decision for my family, Miss Rawley.”

  “No, I’m not buying that.” Kay’s deep voice was so strong it filled the entire room as she slapped her hands onto the table and leaned in towards their client. “I saw you. I saw the evidence of what he did to you. But the most important thing I saw was a broken little boy. Your son is scared and alone and confused. H
e wants to take care of his baby brother. He wants to take care of his mommy, but he can’t protect them from a father who tries to bash his own mother’s head in. You owe it to those boys to be stronger and to take care of them.”

  “How dare you? That’s my family. You have no right to try to force me into something. I’m staying with my husband.”

  Kay started back around the table to get closer to Mrs. Faucett, but Van took her arm and stopped her. “Kay, you should leave now.”

  But she didn’t. Instead both women started a shouting match, their voices and words interlaced. “You’re not taking those kids back to that home, Charise. You’re not going to…”

  “I’ll do whatever the hell I want to. They’re my children…”

  “Then act like a mother and…”

  “Kay!” Van stood and slammed his files onto the table, yanking her arm back harder than he probably should have. By that time, Tamara was standing in the doorway, a wide-eyed uncertain expression on her face. “Go with Tamara, Kay. Go to my office and do not leave until I’ve spoken with you.”

  Their legal assistant responded to the order quicker than Kay did, rushing forward to take her around the waist and press her to the door and down the hallway. Once he heard the door to his office slam shut, Van walked to the conference room door and closed it slowly and quietly.

  “Mrs. Faucett, please accept my apology. If you’ll have a seat, we can complete this paperwork and you can be on your way.”

  For a moment he thought she might storm from the room, but after exhaling a ragged breath, she finally sat down and pulled her chair towards the table. Van followed her, picking up the papers Tamara had brought earlier.

  About an hour later, he stepped into his office to find Kay at the huge window overlooking downtown Dallas. She had her shoulder and her hip leaned against the pane, her arms crossed in front of her. She didn’t move when he came inside, though her shoulders lifted and her back stiffened.

  “Have a seat,” he told her, his voice low. He averted his eyes from her as he made his way to his executive chair. She followed close behind, seating herself ram-rod stiff across from him.