by Cara Putman
She loved his use of her nickname.
“You’re welcome.” She unlocked the front door and slipped inside, grateful Hayden wasn’t waiting up. This was an evening she wanted to think about before she shared it.
The next afternoon the clouds drifted across the sky threatening a rainstorm as Reid picked her up. “We’ll have to make quick work of this.”
“I hope it doesn’t chase everyone inside.” She settled against the seat, then smiled as he handed her a to-go cup.
“I got you an iced tea.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t even care if it was sweet or not, but as she took a sip, she knew he had studied her.
He grinned at her before pulling onto the road. “I don’t know how you can drink it that sweet.”
“Nectar of the gods.” She took a sip and enjoyed the icy sweetness.
The drive to the suburb took half an hour, during which she asked him if anything had changed with Kinley. She didn’t ask if he thought Robert would be home. The thought unsettled her. Maybe she should have come to do this alone, because the man would have no reason to know who she was but would recognize Reid in an instant. They discussed how they’d handle anyone who came to the door, but the primary focus would be the young man who took the video posted around the world.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if someone else was home and saw something.” Emilie tried to calm the butterflies filling her stomach by praying for peace and direction.
Reid reached over at a red light and took her hand. “All we can do is try. The police have already talked to everyone.”
Something she’d confirm as soon as she followed up with the desk sergeant on Monday. “We’re trying to fill in everything we don’t know.”
An hour later, Emilie felt the tension cording across her neck as they knocked on the door of the last house on the cul-de-sac. A young mom hadn’t been able to tell them much, and the young man who posted the video knew less than nothing. Reid rapped on the screen door, and Emilie shifted as they waited. A middle-aged woman came to the door, a concerned frown marring her expression.
“Yes?”
“Hello, I’m Emilie Wesley.”
“Tell me you’re not another one of those reporters.” The woman peered through her glasses. “Wait, I recognize you.”
Emilie touched her chest. “Me?”
“Yes. Don’t you write for the Nation’s Post? Your picture is always by your byline. But I haven’t seen anything by you in a while. Did you stop writing?”
“Just between assignments.” Emilie refused to meet Reid’s gaze. “Do you have time for a couple quick questions?”
“Is this about what happened across the street?”
Reid nodded. “My sister was killed in the shooting.”
The woman’s mouth opened, then shut. “You’re Kaylene’s brother?” She squinted like it was time to get her prescription updated. “You look a bit like her. She mentioned you once or twice. Said you were a good brother.”
Reid swallowed and glanced away. “Not good enough.”
“Don’t believe that lie for a minute. She knew you were there if she needed you. Come on in.” She stepped back from the door, then led them into a comfortable living area. “My name’s Amelia Ford. I don’t know how I can help, but I’ll tell you what I told everyone else who’s asked. Kaylene did not kill her girls. She loved them too much, and I don’t care what the papers say.”
Emilie took the seat Amelia gestured to, Reid a step behind her. “Did she ever talk about her marriage?”
“Only every week when she came over for Bible study. It was Wednesday mornings while he was at work.” Amelia sank onto a wingback chair. “She had to be so careful. Told me she wanted to leave but didn’t know how.”
“I was helping her with that.” Emilie swallowed against the knot of tears that surfaced.
“She needed more than any one person could give her. It was something she had to address herself. She was days from leaving. Planned to pick the girls up from school for a family emergency and then disappear.” Amelia looked past Emilie’s shoulder, clearly seeing something in her mind. “She was so ready to be free of the fighting and intimidation.”
“Did she tell you anything that would help us prove she didn’t do this?”
“If you really knew her, then you know it wasn’t possible.” She met Emilie’s gaze. “You don’t know how much I wish I could tell you something tangible. He kept the fights inside and out of public view. He’s smart, but I have to believe all that inflated idea of how much smarter he is than everyone else will be his downfall.”
The ride back to Emilie’s townhome was quiet. She didn’t know what to do other than be grateful Robert hadn’t been home and seen them—as far as they knew.
Reid double-parked in front of her home, then hurried around to let her out. “Thanks for going with me.”
“I wish we’d learned something helpful.”
“We aren’t done.”
But she knew he felt time running out as much as she did. Having the diamonds helped explain how Kaylene would have financed a disappearance. Talking to Amelia reinforced what they already knew: Kaylene had been poised to leave. But none of it proved Kaylene hadn’t been the one to shoot Kinley. It was the impossibility of proving a negative.
“I’ll call you if I hear anything.”
She nodded at Reid’s quiet words, said good-bye, and then walked to the front door. She pulled out her keys, but the door slid open before she put the key in the lock.
“There you are.” Caroline squealed as she pulled Emilie inside and gave her an enthusiastic hug. “We’ve been waiting hours.”
“Try fifteen minutes.” Jaime was slouched in one of the armchairs, a relaxed and content expression on her face.
“What did I forget?” For the life of her Emilie couldn’t think why her friends were there. “Where’s Hayden?”
“She thought we needed food, and you weren’t here to whip up magic for us.” Caroline grinned, a few summer freckles moving on her nose. “I told her that’s why there’s delivery.”
“Actually, that was me.” Jaime waved her iPhone. “I was in the middle of placing an order when Hayden jetted out. Guess she had better ideas.”
Emilie shook her head at the banter. “Let me take my purse downstairs, and I’ll be back in a minute.”
She slipped down the stairs to her basement suite. Still not clear on why her friends were upstairs, she freshened up in the bathroom before slipping into a comfortable sundress. She did a quick spot check in the mirror. All right. That’s as good as it gets. Now to see what they want.
Normally the gang got together once a month, but then it was on her calendar, not a drop-by. The faint ding of the doorbell hurried her up the steps.
“I’ve got it, Emilie.” Jaime’s take-charge voice didn’t slow Emilie’s steps one bit.
She reached the kitchen in time to see Jaime stepping back to allow Savannah Daniels to enter. There was something about Savannah’s presence that was a balm even as it confirmed Emilie’s suspicion something was up.
Savannah held up a bag as soon as she saw Emilie. “Can you slide these into your freezer?”
“Sure.” Emilie took the bag, then peeked in to see two quarts of Ben & Jerry’s colorful ice cream containers facing her. “You’re spoiling us.”
“It’s the kind of weather that demands ice cream.” Savannah slid her purse off her shoulder and set it on the table. “Besides, we need brain power as we generate ideas.”
Emilie secured the ice cream and then turned back to the group. “Who wants to fill me in on the purpose of this gathering?”
“I will.” Savannah pulled a sheaf of papers from her oversized bag, then sorted them. “We’ve got to figure out Daniels, McCarthy & Associates.”
“Last time I checked there’s only one associate.”
“Not many clients either.” Jaime rolled her eyes as Caroline batted her in the shoulder. “Come on, Caroline. You�
��ve got to admit it’s true.”
“Sure, but you don’t say those things out loud.”
“Keep ’em bottled up, and I’d be trapped working for a judge five years later too.”
“First, you have to have the brains to get a clerkship.”
Jaime’s jaw dropped, and Emilie felt hers do the same. “Caroline?”
Savannah moved between the two. “That’s enough, ladies. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s time to back off.”
“She insulted my mind,” Jaime sputtered.
“And you insulted her job.” Savannah looked between the two as the front door opened and Hayden entered, carrying two large bags. She set them on the kitchen island and glanced around. “What did I miss?”
“Caroline and Jaime acting out of character.” Savannah shook her head. “Maybe they aren’t ready.”
A sweet and spicy aroma wafted from the bags as Hayden opened them. “They didn’t kill each other in law school. This too shall pass. I seem to remember a certain mentor reminding us of that . . . ”
“About once a week.” Emilie well remembered all the times she’d stopped by Savannah’s office desperate for a reminder she could finish law school.
“Try once a day.” Caroline glanced around, then raised her hands defensively. “What? Some of us needed more encouragement than others.”
Now Emilie laughed. “You are the Southern queen of comfort. Remember all the sweet tea and scones you brought to study groups.”
“Well, some of us pretend better than others.” Caroline reached for a paper plate. “Can we eat, please? I think I’m just hangry. Let’s do something productive.”
“How about a movie then?” Jaime glanced around. “Oh yeah, the TV’s downstairs.”
Hayden and Emilie had intentionally kept the small first floor clean and light. There wasn’t room for a couch and entertainment center if they wanted it to feel open. Hayden rarely watched TV anyway, and Emilie had created a comfortable arrangement in the basement that worked well when she watched a classic movie.
“We can go down there. We could even pop in something like White Christmas—maybe that will cool us off from this crazy heat.” Maybe watching a movie would distract her friends and keep them from pecking at each other. Hangry or not, something was definitely up.
“After we brainstorm. I promise it won’t take long.” Savannah gestured toward the counter.
The spicy, salty smell of Chinese takeout wafted from the containers, and Emilie’s mouth watered. “Tell me you have some sweet and sour chicken.”
“And a spring roll, both with your name on them.” Hayden began to pull takeout boxes and tubs from the two bags. “Caroline, here’s your vegetables and rice. Jaime, they were out of beef and broccoli, so I got you the beef and veggies.” She handed over the containers and packets of chopsticks, while Emilie slid behind her and grabbed plates. Then Hayden tugged out a flat container. “Here’s your shrimp lo mein, Savannah. And a garlic chicken for me.”
Emilie handed out plates and then pulled two folding chairs from the small hall closet. After she filled her plate with food, she sank onto one of the folding chairs next to Hayden. She leaned closer and whispered, “What’s going on?”
“You might call it an intervention.”
Savannah blessed the food and silence descended as they ate, Jaime the only one brave enough to use the chopsticks rather than opting for a fork and knife.
Emilie wiped her mouth with a paper napkin and then leaned forward, trying to catch Savannah’s gaze. “I feel at a distinct disadvantage. What are we brainstorming?”
“Jaime.”
Jaime started as Savannah said her name. “Now wait a minute. I am not in the mood for an intervention or whatever you want to call this. I thought this was about your firm.”
Hayden set her plate to the side.
Uh-oh. This was going to get serious fast if Hayden needed her hands to talk. Jaime seemed to know it too, as she straightened in her chair.
“Relax, Jaime,” Hayden said. “This is really about all of us.”
Jaime didn’t relax, but she didn’t bolt.
Hayden continued. “Savannah and I have put together a tentative plan to expand the firm. I’m finding a niche with the court-appointed work I’ve taken to get things going.”
“I’ve got my nice stable of small business clients.” Savannah smiled at them. “But there are more who need our help.”
“I really want to get out of criminal defending, though it is paying the bills.” Hayden glanced at Jaime, who was pushing rice around her plate. “I’m much more comfortable and adept at plaintiff’s litigation.”
“Those clients not following you?” Caroline crossed her legs at the ankles as she leaned back.
“Slowly, but it will take time and effort to build, not something I can do while running around with these court appointments.”
“Those pay your bills.” Jaime’s tone sounded a little hurt, and her face was shadowed. “Though some of the clients aren’t great. Still, someone has to provide that defense.”
Emilie tried to think of a way to lighten the mood, get everyone off their defensive positions and back in accord. The women assembled in this room were her lifeline, the people she would trust with her life and do anything for. As she looked from face to face, she knew Caroline was stuck in her job, in a rut she couldn’t see her way free from. Despite her words, Jaime had been miserable for almost as many days as she’d worked there. She refused to admit defeat and instead sank her teeth into it like a dog with lockjaw. Hayden was enjoying the bloom of a new way of practicing, but one that didn’t quite fit, and Savannah sat there as if seeing what could be, but not wanting to pressure her children. Then she handed out the paperwork, and Emilie revised her opinion.
“This is a flow chart. With all of our names on it.”
What were they thinking? She’d never leave her job, especially when it was one she did well most days. And she wanted to do it with excellence once she’d overcome her fear another client would die on her watch.
Savannah flipped to the second page. “If you’ll look here, you’ll see Hayden and I have developed a prospective timeline and range of business for each of you. We can’t pay much yet, but I believe the six of us could create a dynamic firm.”
“So Angela is staying?” Caroline’s words were quiet, her gaze focused as she read.
“Yes. The plan is she will continue taking court appointments, but also build her network.” Hayden shrugged. “We need her for drafting and arguing motions. We’ll still need an appellate attorney.”
“I’m not scared of a courtroom.” The words were right, but Caroline’s voice indicated she was quite content on the judge’s side of the bench.
“With this we can each practice to our strengths. We’ll all develop client lists, but if we’re together we’ll be something unique. A firm of women.”
What would it be like to work with her friends? Emily had loved it in law school, but could they keep their friendship if they all worked together day in and out?
As the debate continued around her, she wanted to believe it was possible . . . but she wasn’t ready to take the risk.
CHAPTER 28
Monday morning Emilie woke to her phone vibrating across her nightstand.
“Hello.” Didn’t the caller know she didn’t want to leave the dream world where Reid was close and the air crackled with the possibility he would lean closer?
“I still need your article.” The crisp voice belonged to Olivia. Her editor.
“It’s only Monday. We just met Friday.” Emilie rubbed her eyes and yawned.
“Didn’t think I’d interrupt your beauty sleep at eight o’clock.”
“Eight?” She bolted upright, then swung her feet around and over the edge. “Leaping lizards.”
“Reverting to childhood?” Olivia’s tone was sarcastic.
“I have a protective order hearing at nine.”
“And an assign
ment I can give you eight more days to submit. I need an exposé as big as your Rodriguez article.”
The article that had almost gotten her killed? No thanks. Emilie was ready to be done with that kind. On the other hand, if the subject didn’t matter, her mind wasn’t interested. “Olivia, I don’t have anything.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that, so I’m sending you a list with twenty potential topics. Let’s get you that Pulitzer.”
She groaned as her phone buzzed with a message before she’d even set it down. Olivia was as serious about wanting an article as Emilie was that words had abandoned her.
Thirty minutes later she flew from her house to work to pick up the file before hurrying across Old Town to the Juvenile and Domestic Relations Court. It was a good thing the court was a few blocks from her town house, because Nadine Hunter was already pacing outside the metal detector. As soon as she spotted Emilie, she hurried over. “Reggie’s here. I thought you said he wouldn’t come.”
“It’s his hearing too.” Emilie readjusted her hot-pink court bag on her shoulder, then showed her ID to the guard. “Remember, the judge, the bailiff, and I are there to protect you.”
“Right now. But you won’t be later.”
It was true, and Emilie refused to make promises she couldn’t keep. The guard waved them through. When she stepped next to Emilie, the young woman was trembling. Emilie stopped and placed her hands on Nadine’s arms.
“Nadine, look at me.” The woman’s gaze skittered everywhere but at Emilie, until she repeated her words. “We won’t let anything happen. I promise. Once we have the protective order, he can’t come near you or the police will take him to jail.”
“How do you know?”
“Because this isn’t the first time I’ve helped someone. I needed one too, and it worked. It’ll be okay.” She infused passion into her words. “Let’s get up to the courtroom.”
Judge Monica Bell sat at the bench, black robe billowing around her as she leaned forward, a hand over her microphone as she listened to two attorneys argue.
Nadine looked overwhelmed by the room and the atmosphere. Emilie tried to see it through the eyes of a first timer instead of someone who appeared in this room in front of this judge multiple times a month. While not as formal as some, there was still a seriousness and heaviness to the room. A clear sense that decisions issued here affected lives long-term.
