Vindication: Of Demons & Stones: Tri-Stone Trilogy, Book Three

by Anne L. Parks

  Angelina steps forward, her hand at the base of her throat, her eyes wide. "I just want us to get past this and finally have a relationship again, sweetheart." Her voice quivers. She's not quite good enough to summon tears at will, apparently, because that's the only thing that could make her look more pathetic.

  Francine exhales through her nose. "She's your mother."

  I twist toward Francine, my hands balling into fists at my side. "I don't have a mother." I take a step toward her. Alex grabs me around my waist and stops me from getting any closer. "My mother walked out on me when I was ten and never looked back. My father was so distraught, he became an alcoholic and basically checked out. I was forced to take whatever jobs I could get as a teenager to support myself and him. All the responsibility to make sure we had a roof over our heads, and food—it all fell on me.

  My voice is rising, but I don't care. Francine needs to hear this, and if it means I have to scream at her to get it through her thick skull, then that's what I'm going to do. "Do you know what my mother was doing? Moving from one rich husband to the next. Know how much she helped her daughter through those years? Not once."

  My mother takes a step forward, and wraps her arms around her waist. "I'm sorry for that—I've tried to apologize—" her voice cracks.

  Francine shifts her gaze to my mother, and then back to me, her eyes rimming with uneasiness.

  "Here's a bit of family history for you, Francine. My father killed himself at the end of my freshman year of college. He was convinced I had left him just like she had. It never occurred to him that something might be preventing me from coming home. He had no idea that the moment he ended his life, I was having emergency surgery."

  I turn to look at my mother. "I called you—begged you to come home and help me. You refused. Couldn't be bothered by your inconvenient daughter and the death of your ex-husband." I turn my attention back to Francine. Her face is pale. "I had to plan my father's funeral while coping with the realization that the emergency hysterectomy I was recovering from meant I would never have children of my own. So don't talk to me about how rude I am to my mother."

  A small voice breaks through the silent tension building in the room. "I just want a chance to be a mother to you."

  I glance over my shoulder at Angelina. Her shoulders sag, her stature now small and reserved.

  "You had your chance, and you pissed it away. I will never offer that up to you again. Ever."

  Tears stream down my mother's face, but I feel nothing but a cold emptiness in my chest. I turn away from everyone and stalk out of the room. I have no idea where I'm going, but I need to get away from the lying bitch, and the hurt she can still inflict on me after all these years. I walk across the foyer into the dining room. My hands are shaking, and my knees threaten to buckle at any moment. I grasp the back of one of the chairs to hold myself up.

  "I'll go," Francine murmurs behind me.

  Tears stream down my face. Dammit! I don't want Angelina to have the power to reduce me to tears.

  "Kylie?" Francine's voice is soft, and it takes me by surprise. She's never spoken to me with an ounce of warmth or compassion. "I'm sorry that I invited your mother to dinner without checking with you first. I had no idea of the history between the two of you."

  I turn my head to the side, but not enough for her to see my face. "How did you find her?"

  "She found me, said she had been to see you and that you had thrown her out without giving her a chance to explain things. I invited her for dinner, but she said you wouldn't come if you knew she was here, and that she just needed an opportunity to talk to you. I believed her."

  I shake my head. "Don't feel bad, she has a way of making herself look like the victim."

  "I haven't been a very good mom to you either, and for that I'm ashamed." She moves closer, standing at my side, and places a hand on my shoulder. "I felt threatened by you. No one had ever been able to break through Alex's tough exterior, and I guess, as his mother, I wanted to be the person to bring him from the dark into the light. I had hoped he would eventually see that he could let go of the pain and heartache of losing his mother, and be happy. When it was clear that he had made that discovery—but it was you who had opened his eyes—I felt cheated." She chuckles. "Good Lord, hearing it out loud sounds insane and a bit pathetic."

  I glance at her and let out a small laugh.

  A heavy sigh escapes her chest. "The point is, I should have thanked you, and welcomed you into the family. That's what a good mom would do."

  Facing her, I take one of her hands in mine, and squeeze it. "You're a great mom, Francine. You became an instant parent and raised four children who idolized their biological mother. I would've loved to have had you for my mother."

  Her eyes became glassy, and she pulls me into an embrace. "You do, my sweet girl. You do have me for a mother, and I promise to do better."

  I watch Will cross the foyer and answer the knock at the front door. Two police officers step inside, and ask for Alex, and walk into the living room. I pull away from Francine.

  By the time I enter the room, Alex is in handcuffs and is being read his Miranda rights.

  "What are the charges?" I ask.

  "First degree murder of James Wells."

  "I'm Mr. Stone's attorney. No one speaks to my client unless I'm present," I tell the officers.

  Alex stares at me, his face blank.

  "Don't answer any questions until I get there," I tell him.

  Once they take Alex out, I spot Angelica standing in the background. Francine grabs my elbow. "I'll take care of her. You do what you do best, and get this mess straightened out with Alex and these ridiculous charges."

  I squeeze her hand, and head out the door. Climbing into the Maserati, I dial Matt's cell phone, and head toward town.

  "What the hell, Matt?" I ask before he finishes saying hello. "You executed an arrest warrant for tonight? How about some professional courtesy?"

  The line is silent for a moment. "And provide your husband the opportunity to leave the country?"

  "That's bullshit, and you know it."

  "No, actually, I don't. What I do know is that your husband has the resources and contacts to disappear and avoid justice."

  "You have got to be kidding me. You have no evidence that supports a first degree murder charge."

  "Yes, I do. Christ, Kylie, the body was on your property. Alex can't account for his time during the night—the same stretch of time the coroner says James died."

  "That's pretty weak."

  "We know that Alex threatened to kill James."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "The Colorado Bureau of Investigations turned over a recording of a phone conversation between Alex and James."

  Shit! I'd forgotten about that. The call from James after he returned my ring, and threatened to kidnap me again. "All circumstantial, Matt."

  "Then this should be an easy defense for you. See you at the bail hearing, counselor."

  The click signals the end of the call.

  "Fuck!" I toss the cell phone, and it bounces off the door and into the passenger seat. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

  My cell phone buzzes, and I reach into the seat to check the caller ID.

  "Jake, the police just arrested Alex for James' murder."

  "I know," he says. "They're here executing a search warrant. They've already taken his computer, and are going through your closet."

  "Stay there. Make sure they stick to the parameters of the search warrant. If you see anything that doesn't look right, let me know. I'm on my way to the police station to see if I can get Alex out on bail tonight."

  Jake exhales into the phone. "Good luck with that."

  Yeah, no shit. There's a reason Matt waited until this time of day to arrest Alex—so he'd have to spend the night in jail.

  I swing into a visitor parking spot at the police station. The phone call after I hung up with Jake was to Jack to see if he could pull some strings and get Alex
released tonight. I know he'll do everything he can, but I'm not optimistic.

  I give my name to the officer behind the safety glass and wait in the reception area until called back. Alex is in an interrogation room. Detectives Kain and McClure are seated across the table from him.

  "I hope you're not trying to question my client without his attorney present, detectives."

  "No, Mrs. Stone, we've been sitting here waiting for you to show up," Detective Kain says. Detective McClure has a wide grin across her face.

  "I'd like to speak privately with my client."

  "Sure thing," Kain says, picking up his empty coffee cup. McClure follows him out of the door.

  Once the door is closes, I turn to Alex. "Did they ask you any questions? Or try to engage you in conversation?"

  Alex shakes his head. "No, they talked about mundane things—the weather, their kids. I ignored them and kept my mouth shut." He glances at me and smiles. "I've been schooled by my wife on not speaking to the police without an attorney."

  "Well, I'm glad that's what you decided to listen to."

  He narrows his eyes, and sighs. "How fucked am I?"

  "They have a fairly circumstantial case, but I think it will stand on merits."

  "Which means?"

  "We will most likely be going to trial unless we uncover exculpatory evidence."

  "Jesus." He rakes his hand over his face.

  I take his hand in mine. "That doesn't mean I think they have a strong enough case for a conviction."

  "Good thing I have the best criminal defense attorney representing me. There won't be a conflict of interest issue, will there?"

  "No, but I'm going to have Jack second chair in case anything comes up. He's also trying to work his magic to get you out of here tonight, but that'll be more difficult. The DA is requesting you be denied bail, so there will have to be a hearing in the morning."

  "Fabulous."

  "I'll keep you in conference all night, if I have to, until the hearing."

  "We won't get much sleep that way."

  I give him a weak smile that I want to convey more confidence than I'm feeling. "We'll sleep when we get home."

  Twenty-Three

  The courtroom is packed, as I knew it would be when the press heard Alex Stone had been arrested for the murder of his biological father. Vultures. I hate them. They serve no purpose in the court system except to make a fair trial more difficult than it needs to be. At least the judge refused to allow cameras inside the courtroom, but the reporters are still circling, ready to dive-bomb and feast on the potential destruction of an innocent man.

  Pushing through the gate that separates the gallery from the court, I place my briefcase on the defense table, and pull out my legal pad. I inhale, usually finding peace in this place. Today is different. Today I feel as if the sense of justice and equality under the law is missing.

  “Kylie.” Jake stands in the first row of seats in the gallery. Francine, Harold, Patty, Will, and Leigha take up the entire row. I glance at them, and try to offer a supportive smile. I’ve already talked to Leigha. She stopped by the house this morning and picked out a suit for me to wear. So, I’m already aware that the family is distraught, and expecting me to “take care of this matter”.

  Stepping closer to Jake, I whisper, “As soon as you hear a bail amount, get on the phone to Bodin and get him to free up ten percent immediately. I don’t want anything to hold up Alex getting out of here as soon as the hearing is over.”

  Jake nods. We’ve already had this conversation. He was on the phone to Charles Bodin, Alex’s CPA, first thing this morning.

  Jack comes through doors just as the bailiff ushers in Alex and the rest of the people arrested the night before. Jack takes the chair next to me, and a sense of calm filters through me. Jack is the best criminal defense attorney on the east coast.

  He leans over to me, “I was able to get Alex’s case to be called first. Hopefully, we can get him out of here sooner rather than later.” Having him here gives me a boost of confidence, which is exactly what I need at the moment since I’m working on no sleep.

  I stayed in consult with Alex for as long as I could, but they took him back to the holding cell early this morning. I used that time to get my arguments organized and set up a preliminary plan of what needs to be done before the trial. Unless I get lucky and can get the charges dismissed, which is a long shot, I’m going to try anyway. Make the argument to the judge, and it could be our lucky day. There’s just no way to tell what will make a judge scratch his chin and tell the DA they don’t have probable cause.

  I feel Alex’s eyes on me, but I just can’t look at him right now. I need to stay focused. If I look into those beautiful, pleading blue eyes, see the deep lines across his forehead, my heart will be shredded and I’ll be no good to him. He needs some kind of indication from me that everything will be okay, and I want to give it to him, but I can’t chance getting knocked off my game. Be a bitch now, beg for forgiveness later. When we are home. And I’m able to show him my apology in the most intimate way.

  And that thought needs to be shoved back, also.

  The bailiff calls the court to order. Judge Rupert Franklin enters from his chambers, takes his chair behind the bench, and allows everyone to take their seats. I shoot my gaze to Jack. He shrugs and shakes his head. Great, neither one of us knows anything about this judge. Franklin was appointed to the bench at the beginning of the year after Judge Murray retired.

  “Call the first case,” Franklin says to his clerk.

  “Case CRM-159376, State versus Alexander Stone. Charge is first degree murder.” The clerk sits, and Judge Franklin glances at Matt.

  “Matt Gaines, District Attorney, for the State.”

  “Kylie Stone for the defense, Your Honor.”

  Franklin nods. “Mr. Stone will you please stand?”

  Alex rises and I notice the handcuffs around his wrists. My heart stops. This is not the first time I’ve seen one of my clients in handcuffs.

  But this is Alex.

  Judge Franklin runs through the charge and Alex’s rights. “How do you plead?”

  “Not guilty.” Alex’s voice is strong, deep, and demanding. I almost wish there were cameras in here now. That would have been an excellent sound bite for the news. Nothing compares to Alex when he is in control and self-assured. I couldn’t have coached him better.

  “You may be seated,” Judge Franklin says. “Would the State like to be heard on bail?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. The State would ask bail be denied and the defendant be bound over for trial. We believe the seriousness of the crime, along with the Defendant’s vast wealth, make him a flight risk.”

  “Ms. Stone, I assume you want to respond?”

  “Yes,” I say, and stand. “Your Honor, my client has no criminal record. He has never been arrested prior to last night. Mr. Stone’s bank account has no bearing on whether bail should be set, especially since they can offer no evidence of flight risk other than my client’s wealth.”

  “Your Honor,” Matt says. “The crime Mr. Stone is charged with is the murder of his father.”

  “The State has failed to show a legitimate threat exists that would support denying bail,” I argue. “Mr. Stone is a highly respected, upstanding member of this community, who is eager to clear his name—not spend his life on the run.”

  Judge Franklin takes a deep breath. “I’m inclined to agree with you, Ms. Stone. Bail will be set at twenty million. The defendant will turn over his passport. Don’t leave the jurisdiction, Mr. Stone.”

  I pivot around to tell Jake to call Bodin, and catch him as he leaves the courtroom, phone to his ear.

  Facing Alex, I smile. “You should be released soon.”

  He smiles. “I never had a doubt.”

  I grasp his hand quickly and squeeze before they take him away. His confidence in me nearly knocks me on my ass. Being back in the courtroom, and being successful, is better than a runner’s high.


  I just need to maintain this high, so I can get these charges dropped, and Alex and I can move on with our lives at last.

  * * *

  I walk through the courthouse toward the front entrance. Jake and Alex are on their way to the underground parking garage. It's supposed to be for government vehicles only, but one of the bailiff's gives me access when I need to escape with one of my high profile clients. And Alex is about as high profile as they come.

  If I can draw the press away from Alex, he should be able to get home without any problems. Plus, I've decided to use the press to my advantage, for once. Matt came out with a statement yesterday claiming that Alex and I have been uncooperative with the investigation into James' death. It pisses me off, but I have a strict no comment rule.

  That I'm about to break.

  I pause at the glass doors, and spot Thomas just outside the door. The SUV is parked along the curb. I take a deep breath, push the doors open, and step outside. A flurry of activity swirls around me, as the vultures come to life and see fresh meat in their sights. TV news cameras, microphones, and people with cell phones they're using as recorders diverge upon me. Thomas steps in front of me, pushing people back so that I can walk.

  So many questions are being yelled at me, rolled into a incoherent rumble. A blonde woman I recognize as a reporter that hangs around the courthouse sidles up to me. "How do you respond to the DA's assertion that you and your husband have refused to answer questions regarding the investigation?"

  Damn, what is her name?

  "Absolutely untrue," I say. My skin crawls, and I remind myself that I'm doing this for Alex.

  "He says the two of you are only answering the questions you want to answer and attempting to thwart their investigation."

  "My husband and I have answered all relevant questions, beyond that, I'm not sure what the DA or law enforcement needs from us."

  "Did that throw the spotlight of suspicion on your husband?" A distinguished looking man with dark hair, graying at the temples thrusts a microphone in front of me. He's a big shot from one of the local TV news stations. I really should pay more attention to their names.