“Not yet.” She shrugged her thin shoulders. “Not sure that will be enough. I’d like someone who cares about us. I don’t want to be just one of the two hundred people she’s helping.”
“When do you want to meet with someone?”
“Now. Before I lose my courage. This is too important.”
A name came to mind. A woman he’d known as a kid, a couple years younger than him, who’d gone to law school. “Let me make a couple calls, see if I can get an appointment for you.”
“Thank you.” The words were quiet, spoken away from him as Ms. Ange watched her daughter.
“I’ll need your first name if I get an appointment.”
“Madeline. Madeline Ange.”
“Let me see what I can do.” Twenty minutes later he had a meeting scheduled for Monday and had promised to meet Madeline there if he could get the time off—though as he examined her older model Toyota he wondered if he should pick her up instead. Was this whole thing a good idea? Or was he going to find himself embedded in another situation he couldn’t fix?
As he drove toward Old Town, Chandler wondered if he’d regret taking his involvement deeper.
CHAPTER 8
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 5
Jaime had barely had time to kick off her shoes and rub her feet to work the knots out from a day in heels when her phone buzzed. It had been a long, emotional day, and she was ready to ignore the world—but her phone rang so rarely that it must represent an emergency of some sort. She glanced at the screen before clicking on the call. “Caroline?”
“Hey, Jaime. It’s still all right to come over, right?”
“Sure.” What else could she say? Her friend needed help, and Jaime would not have survived Con Law second semester without Caroline’s careful and meticulous prodding and outlining.
“Great! I just need to know where to park.”
“What?”
“I’m here with my suitcases, and I’ve circled the block a couple times. Y’all don’t have much in the way of parking around here.”
“That’s why I paid for a slot I don’t really need.” Not with the Metro a block away. There were a few visitor slots, but she’d need to plan for a longer-term solution. “How long are you planning on staying again?”
“A week. No longer than two.”
Jaime bit back a groan.
“So where can I park?”
“That’s a great question. Pull into one of the slots up front while I run down and check with the desk.”
A few minutes later she stood in front of the security/concierge desk. The place didn’t really need security because of its slightly out-of-the-way location, but someone important had moved in earlier in the year, and the security had appeared. Based on the level of upgrades, she did not want to know her new neighbor. Definitely a situation of ignorance being bliss.
After twenty minutes of wrangling and about that many calls from Caroline—which she ignored—Jaime was the proud owner of one very expensive bonus parking space paid for by the week.
She met Caroline at the drive and climbed into the classic Mustang. She hooked the tag on the rearview mirror. “The moment you leave I need this back so the charges quit accruing.”
“You mean you’re paying by the day for my parking?”
“No, you are.”
“Right. I’ll give my apartment manager the bill and tell them to get those floors stripped and refinished stat.”
After Caroline slid her car into the pricey slot, Jaime helped her lug her suitcases to the elevator and then into the apartment. The moment the bags were stacked next to the door, the space that had always been adequate shrank to ridiculously small. Caroline blinked as she looked around.
“This is nice, Jaime. Is that where I’ll sleep?” She pointed to the small futon Jaime had had since college.
Jaime cringed at the acknowledgment that she’d never had the girls over.
“I’ve been meaning to get a real couch.” Every time she about had the money saved, something else demanded it, like new tires for the car she tried not to drive. Why did life have to cost so much?
“I’m grateful you’re giving me a place to rest my weary head.” While she could tell Caroline meant the comment to be light, there was an underlying stress vibrating her words.
“Everything okay?”
“Sure.”
Definitely not. Well, Jaime was a queen of pressing an issue if it meant she could avoid her own. “You’ve got to be thirsty. I know I am after hauling your stuff up here. Have a seat on that old thing, and I’ll get us some sweet tea.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
Jaime could lie and say Caroline wouldn’t be, but it had been a long time since her friend had shared. If Caroline were in her shoes, she’d press until Jaime finally came clean. This was her turn to be the friend she often needed.
“We all need to drink.”
Caroline laughed. “When you put it that way, how can I say no?”
It only took a few steps to reach the tiny galley kitchen. The subway tile backsplash with small stainless appliances and granite countertop made her kitchen feel modern. There might not be much to it, but she didn’t need more. She only had silverware, plates, and glasses for four—enough to host Hayden, Emilie, and Caroline, if such an occasion ever arrived.
She poured two tall glasses of tea and handed one to Caroline.
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” Jaime took a sip, unsure how to start the questions. “So you’re sure everything is okay?”
“Of course.”
There was a long pause, and Jaime let the silence stretch as though Caroline were a reluctant witness.
“No. I don’t know.”
“That sounds about right.”
“I’m not like you, Jaime. I don’t have a clear line for my future.”
“I don’t know that mine is a direct path.”
“Oh, it is. You’ve had opportunities to leave criminal defense work, but you never do.”
“It’s my calling.”
“But why? We took the same criminal law and criminal procedure classes, but you don’t see me on the defense side.”
“No, you carry their futures with appeals.”
“How did you know that this is where you’re supposed to be?”
Jaime could only stare at her friend. Caroline was the one who always wore a smile and a carefree tone in her words. Sure, she was deep, but she carefully schooled that for work. Everywhere else she was the friend who brought an occasionally quirky sense of humor and a real sense of caring. “I drank the Kool-Aid in class. You were gone that day.”
“No, really. And you know I never skipped class.”
That was true; Caroline had been that responsible. It’d been kind of sickening to watch her walk around the law school perpetually carrying a can of Dr Pepper in one hand and a textbook in the other.
Jaime took a breath. “This isn’t anything you haven’t heard before.” Though tonight the words didn’t pour out as easily as other times. “I believe in our system. Enough that I want to protect it. Without effective advocates, even for the guilty, the system collapses and government gets too strong. To protect the innocent, I have to also fight for the guilty.”
“You still believe that?”
“The criminal process isn’t perfect.” She knew how far from that it was. “So I do what I can.” She took another breath. “I went to the Commonwealth’s Attorney today.”
Caroline startled. “For what? Are you changing jobs?”
Jaime snorted. “No. I’m working with Mitch McDermott to file charges against Dane.”
“Really? Wow.” Silence settled and stretched as Caroline took a sip of her tea, all the while keeping her gaze locked on Jaime. “I admire you, you know.”
“Why?”
“You’re righting a wrong that is twenty years old. That takes real courage.” Caroline was one of a handful who knew Jaime’s story, and she held it in highest t
rust.
“Maybe.”
“It does.”
Jaime wished she felt brave. She sat next to Caroline, wishing her life sparkled like her kitchen. In truth, she was more worn and abused than this futon she’d dragged through her adult life. And some things couldn’t be fixed with a simple swipe of a credit card.
“There is no statute of limitations on sexual abuse.”
His attorney’s words echoed through Dane’s mind, and he knew he would have to take severe actions to halt his niece in her tracks.
His thoughts raced and then suddenly stilled. It was so simple he should have done it years ago. His brother, the perfect one, the one who would never see his next promotion because he followed the book to the letter, needed to be informed of what had transpired.
He would tell his brother that his most precious thing, his daughter, had gone crazy and filed criminal charges against him, her uncle. It would only take a moment to throw that family into chaos.
He grinned.
Jaime wouldn’t expect the offensive move.
It was ideal.
It had been so easy to appear to be the perfect, helpful brother-in-law. The one poised to fill every gap left by his brother’s deployment. He’d snapped when Bill became a hero all over again, settling his plane on a postage stamp of a strip without loss of life in the middle of a sandstorm. The dramatic landing had been caught on someone’s camera. Next thing Dane knew, he was seeing the stupid sequence over and over and over again on all the newscasts.
Each time he’d gritted his teeth hard against the reality that his brother was lauded while he was left to babysit.
He picked up his phone.
Selected Bill’s number.
Waited as it rang. Again and again. Over and over.
Then his brother picked up.
Dane smiled. This would be fun.
CHAPTER 9
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 5
The night’s hand pressed Jaime as she huddled in her bed. She hadn’t wanted to come. Had begged to stay home. Promised she would stay out of her mother’s way.
She wasn’t home.
She was here.
In the place where shadows smothered her.
It felt like the time she’d jumped in a lake without her life jacket. She’d been pulled under, and no matter how she struggled and twisted, she couldn’t find the surface. She’d been so afraid. Then Daddy had come. He’d saved her. Tugged her back into the boat. She’d lain on her side and thrown up so much water.
Daddy wasn’t here to save her.
And the shadow knew.
The shadow would overwhelm her, and she was too weak to stay in the light.
The door creaked open.
She held her breath. Squeezed her eyes tight. Maybe if she prayed, the shadow would go away.
God, help me. She wanted to speak the words, but her throat had clamped shut. She could barely breathe. The words repeated in her head. Over and over. Like a sad song on repeat. The kind that would drive Mommy crazy.
Maybe if she clung to the prayer, she would be safe.
Jaime clutched her teddy bear. Thought her prayer. Again and again. Then the mattress heaved as the bed squeaked. The shadow was here. He was real . . .
Jaime launched up in bed, gasping for air. She looked frantically around the room, the light she always kept on next to her bed insufficient to push back the darkness of the night.
She heard feet padding toward her door.
God, help me. The panicked prayer rose from her thoughts even as she knew how fruitless it was. God hadn’t helped her when she was eight. He certainly wouldn’t bother now.
“Jaime?” Caroline’s voice edged through Jaime’s panic. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” The words escaped in a yell, and Jaime wished she could recall and quiet them.
“It doesn’t sound like you’re fine.” There was a pause. “Can I come in?”
“No.”
The doorknob twisted and the door creaked open. “I brought you a glass of water.”
“I don’t need a drink.”
“Let me come in, Jaime.”
Jaime wanted to argue but couldn’t. The sheets were wrapped around her feet like twisting barnacles. The diffuser had turned off and only the faintest scent of lavender hung in the air, so she must have slept for a while. Her gaze landed on the teddy bear next to her, and she batted it off the bed before turning back to the door, but Caroline had already stepped inside the room.
“Come on in, since you already are.”
“This isn’t the first night you’ve had a nightmare.” It wasn’t a question.
“I thought he was here.”
Who lingered between them, the unspoken name known to both.
“What can I do?”
“I want to forget, but my mind won’t let me. Can you help with that?”
“I can listen.”
The thought terrified Jaime because Caroline meant it. She would crawl into the pain with Jaime, and Jaime couldn’t let her. It was too dark there; a tarry substance would saturate Caroline’s light, overwhelming it until it was extinguished. Ruining another life . . . she couldn’t do that. “I’m fine.”
“You aren’t.” Caroline handed her the glass of water, then sank to the floor next to the bed, her gaze tethering Jaime to this moment. “You have a story. There are chapters to your life, and some of them are horrible, but they are all chapters. It’s up to you how much weight you give them and how long they last.”
“It’s not that simple.” Fatigue pressed against Jaime. Another night of disrupted sleep. “I don’t want to argue with you, Caroline.” She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “It’s after three. If you want to get any sleep, you need to start counting sheep.”
Caroline frowned at her and crossed her arms. “Maybe this is why I’m here. To help you through confronting your uncle.”
“I don’t need help.” The idea made her want to spring from the bed and punch something harder than she’d flung her poor teddy bear.
“We all do. If I can be that for you, I’d count it a privilege.”
She didn’t want Caroline to know every sentence of her story. It was too gothic and tragic for Caroline’s Pollyanna view of the world. “Some chapters are too personal.”
“And some only lead to freedom when shared.”
Her friend’s words pierced Jaime.
That was exactly what Jaime had promised she’d never do. As she stared at her feet, tangled in layers of sheet and blanket, she heard a soft murmuring next to her. While she’d denied needing help, she couldn’t stop listening as Caroline prayed for her and her heart.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 6
Morning dawned well before Jaime was ready. Her nightmare shadowed her waking and the start of her day. She had to find a way to remove Dane’s hold on her life. If the nightmares were already this disruptive, what would they be like after he was served with the charges from the Commonwealth’s Attorney? The clanking of cupboard doors opening and shutting filtered through the bedroom door. Jaime groaned and pulled a pillow over her head.
Then the shower started, and when it turned off fifteen minutes later, Jaime’s brain had switched on. She threw back the covers and pulled her robe from the foot of the bed. Good thing she’d placed it there last night, or she would have headed into her living area in her nightgown glory. Maybe she could pretend Caroline hadn’t seen it in the wee hours of the morning when she was huddled under her white comforter.
Caroline grinned at her, a towel wrapped around her head like a turban. “Good morning. If I were my grandma I’d add ‘Merry Sunshine,’ but I’m not.”
“That’s a good thing.” Jaime tried not to growl as she headed toward the Keurig parked on the countertop.
“I thought we could get coffee at Ebenezer’s before heading to church.”
Jaime froze with her hand curled around a pod of French roast. “I don’t go to church.” Besides, didn’t Caroline know it was Saturd
ay?
“Maybe you could today. There’s a service project I think you’d enjoy. It’s for kids.” Caroline smiled sweetly at her. “I’ll throw in a scone or muffin. Your choice. I notice you don’t have much in the way of food.”
“I said, I don’t do church.” The hardness in her voice reflected the rock-hardness of her certainty. If this untouchable God wouldn’t be bothered when she’d been a child who needed His protection, then she wouldn’t bother with Him now. Not even if Caroline turned on the puppy dog eyes. “No.”
“Oh, fine. Then join me for coffee. I’ll still buy the scone.”
Maybe she could do that. “We’ll drive separately.”
“Or walk to the place around the corner.” Her eyes twinkled at Jaime in a disturbingly happy way. “I haven’t given up on you joining me at church, but it doesn’t need to be today.”
Jaime nudged Caroline’s shoulder. It was practically a hip check considering how petite her friend was next to her. “Don’t press your luck. But I desperately need that coffee.”
Fifteen minutes later she was sitting at a table in the hole-in-the-wall, artsy coffee shop around the corner, a steaming café latte spiked with peppermint syrup in front of her, next to a plate holding a decadent carrot cake muffin with cream cheese frosting. She’d need to log an hour on the stationary bike if she wanted to eat each luscious calorie without worrying about where it landed, but it would be worth it.
Caroline was talking animatedly about something, but Jaime’s attention kept drifting. The nightmare’s tentacles weren’t releasing. What would Uncle Dane do? She was sure he’d get a summons that didn’t require actual jail time—at least not yet. Even so, his reaction wouldn’t be good. But she had to move forward.
“You’re not listening to me,” Caroline pouted as she played with her maple scone.
“I am.”
“Really?” Her friend arched an eyebrow in that precise way of all truly Southern women. “Then tell me what I was saying.”
“How worried you are about your apartment.”
She huffed. “Good guess.”
Jaime laughed, then leaned back against the overstuffed chair. “You’re easy to read.”
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