“Don’t you ever get tired of sitting on your high horse? You’re giving me shit for going the blackmail route, yet you’re doing the same to us!”
Sam snorted. “You’re comparing using a painful, albeit untrue, family secret to extort an untold amount of hush money from my family to giving you an option out of this mess other than jail time? How pathetic. Considering your twisted mind, I am not surprised.”
“Enough!” Kip yelled. “Grayson and I are the innocent ones in all this yet all you two want to do is play the ‘My balls are bigger than yours’ game. Can’t we finish what’s needed and go? I’m sick of all this drama!”
Sam exploded. “Grayson is an innocent victim in this whole mess, Kip, but you aren’t! At your soon-to-be-ex-wife’s bidding, with not even a clue what she had planned, you bugged my home, thereby starting the drama! I’m responding to the mess you two drummed up.”
Kip didn’t back down. “You can’t imagine how painful all this has been for me.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I’m sure it was a shock to learn you were adopted, and believe it or not, I can imagine how painful it was for you to see a birth record with my father’s name on it—to have the very foundation you built your life around quake beneath you. It’s a life-altering experience. I get that. However, when you found out, no matter how it came about, you had two options: The right one or the wrong one. Your money-hungry wife picked the wrong one, and instead of being a man with moral fortitude or a hint of a backbone, you kowtowed and let her take the lead. Neither of you cared how the actions would affect others, so no, Kip, you aren’t an innocent little lamb led to the slaughterhouse.”
Kip’s face went from pale white to beet red. “I…”
“No, I’m done listening to both of you. It’s over. My family sacrificed more than their share for a fucking lie. You’re not a Chapman, which means the blackmail scheme is kaput. If either of you even hint to anyone using any form of communication available now or in the future, about any of this, I’ll make sure you both are arrested then tied up in the biggest, ugliest legal battle imaginable. You might get to see Grayson’s children, if you’re lucky.”
Rising to his feet, knowing Sam was right, Kip swallowed hard. “Understood. Are we done here?”
“Yes, except for one more thing.”
Kathy rolled her eyes. “Oh goody! Another lecture about moral behavior?”
Sam returned the woman’s grimace with one of her own. “No. A warning. Stay away from Richard Benton. He makes pit vipers look like gummy worms.”
“Oh, you’re concerned about my safety. How sweet.”
“No. I don’t give a flying fuck about your safety, Kathy. I’m concerned about your son’s wellbeing, as you should be. Here’s the final thought for the day: Screw with me or my family again and I’ll bury you both. Literally.”
Glancing at the gun visible on Sam’s hip, Kathy yanked her purse from the floor then strode out of the office without saying another word. Kip gave a curt nod and followed his pissed off wife, Sam right on his heels.
“I’ll file the documents today and pay the filing fee. In thirty days, the judge will set a final hearing. You’ll be free from her claws, and the sole party responsible for your son. Good luck to you.”
Pausing at the door, Kip turned, locking his gaze with Sam’s. Her face was flushed and jaw set, yet there was a hint of worry and compassion behind her eyes. “I’m not sure whether to thank you or tell you to eat shit and die.”
Despite the intense situation, Sam chuckled. “How about you give it a year before making a final choice? That sweet boy of yours might steer you away from the dark side where your wife’s influence lured you.”
Shaking his head, a hint of a smile on his lips, Kip left. While locking the door behind him, Sam wondered what their conversation inside the truck would be like on the way home.
“I hope you listen to my warning, Kathy. You don’t want to be at Richard’s when I confront him later. A stray bullet might find its way into your sorry ass.”
Waiting until his truck pulled out of the parking lot, Sam returned to the office, gathering up the papers. She made copies then grabbed her keys and purse. Though the courthouse was only a block away, if she walked, she couldn’t take her gun.
At least it would be by her side in the vehicle until she went inside the building. Once the papers were filed, she would return home and go over every detail of the plan she mapped out for Richard.
Pulling the cell from her pocket, she stared at the screen. Three missed calls and four texts. Clicking on the most recent one from Bradford, Sam read the words and smiled.
“Sheriff Wilson to the rescue once again. Way to go, sir.”
PARKING IN AN empty spot by the front door, Sam put the gun in the console before picking up the papers and check then headed inside.
Normally when she stepped foot inside the beautiful, four-story structure, Sam smiled. Like Lily Belle, the building was a piece of Arkansas’s history. The Garland County Courthouse boasted the same Renaissance–revival architectural style as her place, only on a grander, bigger scale.
Today, she didn’t even glance at the lovely structure as she waved at the deputy sitting at the desk monitoring visitors on a computer from numerous closed-circuit cameras.
“Afternoon, Ms. Chapman. Sure is a cold one today, huh?”
“Yes. Winter came early this year,” Sam called over her shoulder as she passed him by, irritated she forgot his name. “Stay warm!”
Taking the worn, marble stairs to the second floor, she made her way to the end of the long hallway to the office of the circuit clerk. The second she opened the door, she knew something was wrong. A few of the deputy clerks were crying and all the sweet ladies looked upset.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked while pushing the pleadings across the counter.
“Didn’t you read the email sent out by Marian?”
Grateful the woman had on a nametag, Sam cast a quick glance. “No. I haven’t checked my email. What’s going on, Stacy?”
Wiping her nose with a tissue, Stacy took the papers. “Judge Hornsby’s wife had a stroke last night. She passed away less than an hour ago.”
“How awful!”
“And with him so close to retirement. Lord, it’s the saddest thing. You don’t have any cases pending with him do you?”
“I don’t believe so. Why?”
Leaning closer, Stacy whispered, “Rumors are swirling he ain’t coming back to the bench. If he doesn’t then most of his caseload will go to Judge Renfro.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
Stacy snorted. “Honey, I know you’re from around these parts, but you’re new to practicing law here in Garland County. Let me give you a little tip: Yes, drawing Renfro is a bad thing no matter which side you represent. He’s meaner than a momma bear protecting her cubs right after coming outta hibernation. I think he’s mean because the man’s uglier than dried soap scum. Cajun bastard.”
Covering her lips to hide the smile while watching Stacy enter the case of Kip R. Hale vs. Kathleen A. Hale, Sam replied, “Quite a colorful description. Thanks for the heads up.”
Stacy waved a hand in dismissal. “Got your back, girl. We all will need friends if ol’ Renfro sticks around. I’m hoping he gets tired of our small town and moves back to the swamps. Say, I thought you were doing probate work and not domestic relations?”
“I am, but in this particular case, I offered to help to a friend from high school pro bono.”
After stamping the file-marks on the pleadings, Stacy looked closer at the complaint. “Is he the electrician—the hot guy who worked on your building last summer in those tight-fitting t-shirts?”
Sam nodded.
“Lordy. Wait until I tell the other gals he’s available. I can’t tell you how many lunch breaks we spent staring out the window. Those hot construction men could make a killing as spokesmodels—well, some of them—okay, Kip. Mercy! Oh, good heavens. Listen to me pra
ttling on when poor Judge Hornsby’s wife passed away.”
“Do you know when and where the services are scheduled?”
Sliding the papers back to Samantha, Stacy shook her head. “No, not yet. Marian’s planning on sending out an email blast to all Garland County attorneys when she finds out the details. You’re on the list, right?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Keep an eye out for the email. He’s gonna need as much support as possible since he’s, um, estranged from his son. Gregory’s a detective in Little Rock. They had some sort of falling out years ago. Judge Hornsby hasn’t seen his grandchildren in years.”
Though not surprised by the gossip since she grew up in Hot Springs, Sam was shocked at the volume Stacy spilled. “I hate to hear that. Family’s everything. Sometimes it takes a major tragedy to erase petty squabbles of the past.”
“So true, so true.” Winking as she pointed at the case number, Stacy smiled. “I made sure you drew Judge Cooper. She’s a doll.”
“Thank you.”
“Hey, Stacy? I can’t get this file to pull up and there’s an attorney on hold. Help!”
Glancing behind her, Stacy sighed while rolling her eyes. “New girl. Gotta go.”
Nodding once, Sam grabbed the papers and left, grateful for the distraction provided by the “new girl” before Stacy’s mouth broke from overuse.
While backing out of the parking lot, the gas light popped on, followed by the warning ding for low fuel. She drove to the Valero near the office, wincing at the long of vehicles in line waiting for gas. “And milk and bread,” Sam chuckled to herself.
Turning around, she went back home, deciding to venture out later when the crowds were gone. “Finalize plans now, gas later.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you just sat there and let her talk to us like we were kids being scolded.”
Glancing over at Kathy, Kip stifled a laugh. He had never seen her so angry or stressed. The tears she cried when arriving at his house in the wee hours of Monday morning had been faker than her boobs. The ones rimming her eyes now appeared genuine.
“Don’t you have anything to say to me? After all our years together? The child we brought into this world?” Kathy pressed.
“I think we covered everything last night and today. What’s left to say?”
“A lot!” Kathy threw her hands up in desperation.
“Kath, stop. The game’s over. You wanted a divorce so now you’re getting your wish. Samantha’s right—you only agreed to stay together because you thought there was money on the table—and maybe a chance for some payback against Samantha and Suzy. Not enough juice for a marriage to last. We need to face the truth, which is we aren’t good for each other. I drink, you do drugs. Things are changing between us and you sold the club, so maybe we both can start fresh? Become better people for Grayson’s sake?”
Hot tears trickled down Kathy’s cheeks. “You said you loved me.”
“Part of me still does, Kath. I love the person I thought you were, not the one you became. Who knows? Maybe in the future, after we spend some time apart, our feelings will change.”
Kathy gripped the straps of her purse so hard her knuckles turned white. “You promised to cherish me, forsaking all others when we stood at the altar.”
“And I kept my vows.”
“No, you didn’t. You fucked Suzy.”
Kip’s head hurt from all the stress and lack of sleep during the past twenty-four-plus hours. “The only reason you know about that is because you looked through my phone. Right?”
Kathy said nothing, continuing to stare out the window.
“Yeah, thought so. Trust is a big part of a marriage, Kath, and something we lost a long time ago. You kicked me out; said you wanted a divorce because of my drinking. What happened between me and Suzy was months after, so in my book, it doesn’t count as cheating.”
“Your book is wrong.”
“Maybe so, but at this point, does it really matter? We go our separate ways and work on ourselves. I started going to AA meetings. You should think about attending NA. It’ll be hard, but in the long run, will be the best for Grayson.”
“Don’t act like you’re suddenly the world’s greatest dad and Grayson’s your number one priority. It’s not who you are.”
Turning into the driveway, Kip’s dormant anger flared. “Oh? So who am I in your eyes, Kath? Really?”
“You are a worthless drunk with rocks in his head rather than brains, stumbling through life without any purpose or direction!”
Slamming on the brakes, Kip threw the truck into park. “Ah, the truth comes out. Samantha’s right again—you don’t love me. You used me to get rich, not even caring about the pain I endured for months! I lost my parents, you and Grayson, found out some distressing news, and all you offered was fake concern while working on a plot you didn’t even tell me about with some stranger! I needed your support and love and you gave me nothing. Nothing!”
“Ha! Riding on the same high horse as Sam now, are you Kip? Get down! You have no right acting superior to me. You aren’t a saint in all this either. Don’t try to play off you didn’t know I planned on blackmailing the Chapmans! If you were such an upstanding man, you would’ve tried to stop me, but you didn’t. Your smaller brain took over, telling you to do whatever I said so you could get me in bed again.”
“Nice, Kath. Real nice. No, I didn’t try to stop you, which was wrong of me. Since blackmail’s not a possibility anymore, divorcing is the right choice. For us both.”
Opening the door, Kathy paused before exiting the truck. “Congratulations, Kip. I crossed the fine line between love and hate.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this between us! We need to at least be civil toward each other for Grayson.”
Exiting the truck, Kathy stomped toward her car parked by the curb. “I agree but only when he’s around. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll put my sweet game-face on when he’s within earshot.”
Kip walked to the tailgate and stopped, watching while Kathy opened the door and started the car. “Please come inside and let’s talk about how we’re going to tell our son. He thinks we are getting back together. The news we aren’t needs to be handled right.”
Biting her lip, Kathy glanced at her watch. It was a little past noon, which meant she had hours to kill before going to see Richard.
Alone.
“Fine.”
Following Kip up the driveway to the front door, Kathy took a deep breath. She needed to calm down yet struggled to make her heart to listen to the brain. A few more hours. Hold it together for a few more hours then it will all be over.
Once inside the small house, Kathy tossed her purse onto the ugly couch, hoping she could withstand being in close proximity to her soon-to-be-ex without losing control and killing him before the time was right.
HOURS LATER, THROAT dry from talking, Kip walked alongside Kathy out to the car as the last rays of sunlight licked over the tops of the bare trees. “Be careful on the roads. I’ll pick up Grayson on Christmas Eve. Make sure all his stuff is packed.”
Rather than flipping Kip the bird, Kathy nodded once. “Sure.”
Reaching over her shoulder, Kip opened the driver’s door. “Thanks for hashing out all the details with me. I know it hurts, but we’ll be okay. Right?”
Easing past him into the seat, fully aware he wanted a hug or some other such nonsense, Kathy started the car. “Right.”
“The roads are slick and will get worse as the temp drops. You’re welcome to stay and leave in the morning. On the couch, I mean. Ugh. Sorry. That came out wrong. What I meant was I’m concerned about you, not that I want you to stay for one last romp in the sack.”
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I told Cara to have Grayson ready on Wednesday morning.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“
I am.”
“Text me when you make it home please. No matter what time it is. I told Reed I needed a few days off, so I’ll be up late.”
Gritting her teeth, Kathy nodded.
“One more thing before you leave?”
If he tries to kiss me, I’ll punch him in the nuts. “What?”
“Please listen to Samantha’s advice about Richard. I saw him when angry, remember? Let the two of them duke it out. Okay?”
Afraid of what might spew from her mouth Kathy nodded again then grabbed the handle, shutting the door. She drove away without saying another word or looking back. Once at the end of the street, she whispered, “You won’t be around by Christmas so fuck you.”
WALKING BACK INSIDE, Kip shut the door while sighing. His stomach was in a knot so he went to the can. His sponsor told him to expect certain things while detoxing, including bowel trouble, yet Kip assumed the rumbling was due to the stress of the last several days.
Fifteen minutes and half a roll of toilet paper later, he emerged from the bathroom. Out of habit, he headed to the kitchen cabinet for some bourbon yet stopped in mid-stride when a weird buzzing sound coming from the couch caught his attention. Shifting directions, he walked back into the living room, feeling around the cushions.
“What the hell? Where did this come from? Does Kathy have another cell?”
Flipping it open, he noticed an unread text.
“See you and your husband at 6 pm sharp, Mrs. Hale. Don’t be late. As you mentioned, we need to finish this.”
Scrolling up, he read the entire text stream between them both. Bile rose up in his throat. His gut told him the texts were from Richard.
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