by Kylie Brant
“Now, why am I convinced glacier speed would be ‘too fast’?” But a tinge of humor was back in his voice. The sound of it eased a measure of her tension.
“Whatever decision I make, this is me, not running.” And he had no idea what that cost her. Or, more frighteningly, maybe he did.
“I was a left tackle in football.”
The non sequitur had her smiling. “Why am I not surprised?”
“What I’m saying is, it’s my nature to knock over obstacles in my way.”
“I’ve appreciated your restraint. Although if you tackle me, you’ll wind up with a black eye.”
“Not you.” He pulled her closer. “The roadblocks you erect.”
“I’m not throwing up roadblocks. I’m saying that whatever I decide to do about the acreage, it won’t impact us.” And just offering that reassurance had her palms going slippery.
“Okay.” His body relaxed against hers. “As long as you understand I’m not done persuading.”
A slow smile curved her lips. “I’d expect nothing less.”
Chapter 97
Three weeks later
They’d arrived too early on purpose. Cady and Ryder sat on a bench outside the courtroom in the Buncombe County courthouse while Laura Talbot excused herself to use the restroom. Cady had her phone in her hand, going through emails. But nerves played havoc with her focus. In a few minutes, a judge was going to make a decision that would affect the rest of Dylan Castle’s life. And if the outcome wasn’t what they hoped for, they had no recourse. It was enough to send Cady’s imagination into overdrive.
She’d made a point of seeing the boy a couple of times a week. He was in a group foster home here in Asheville, and Cady thought he was doing as well as could be expected. He’d been anxious about a phone charger he’d left at home, so she’d fetched it for him. Only later had she learned he used the cell to communicate with a girlfriend. She was okay with that. With all that had happened and with his mother facing accessory-after-the-fact charges for the disposal of Brady Boss’s body, the boy needed as much normal as he could get.
She took a grim sort of satisfaction that Stephen Tillis wouldn’t be granted early release anytime soon. Cumberland County deputy Blake Patten had found another witness verifying Tina Bandy’s testimony that the man had helped with the disposal.
“Did Dr. Baker get back to you?” Ryder asked.
“His nurse did. I still haven’t made up my mind about the new medication he’s suggesting for my mom. Lots of side effects.” Or maybe she was reacting to the fact that the man had advised switching from a med for mild to moderate Alzheimer’s to one to treat moderate to severe symptoms. It was a tangible sign that the disease was progressing. Making decisions based on logic when the issue was rooted in emotion was always challenging.
He reached over and took her hand. “Choosing for others is always harder than making choices for yourself.” Ryder muttered a curse. “I didn’t mean . . . I wasn’t talking about . . .”
“It’s okay.” She squeezed his hand. “I know what you meant. But I’ve come to the conclusion that the choice your dad and my mom made thirty years ago wasn’t easy for them, either.” And it’d been far more difficult to reach that conclusion than it should have been. “For a while, all I could focus on was what they’d done to me.” The sense of betrayal could still stab deep if she let it. “I don’t have a child. But I know if I did, I’d do everything I could to protect them. I can imagine how desperate she was after watching Lonny Maddix use me as a human shield. I get that she’d do anything to make sure he could never hurt me again.”
“You’re more forgiving than I am.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m just trying to understand.” And she wasn’t there yet. But Cady wasn’t going to let the past taint the time she still had with Hannah, either.
Ryder glanced at the clock on his cell and then looked up. “Here comes Mom. Court’s ready to start.” They rose and waited for Laura to join them before walking into the courtroom.
Dylan Castle sat next to his guardian ad litem and public defender at a table in front. Cady and Ryder were seated behind him. Next to Ryder sat Laura Talbot. Juvenile court judge Sarah Ellis studied some documents for several minutes before looking at Dylan over her reading glasses. “Please rise, young man.”
He stood, his stance ill at ease.
“I understand your mother is in police custody.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” The boy’s voice was miserable.
“And your brother is nineteen. Unable to care for you.”
“Yes.”
“The court has taken some time to study your history and to determine if charges should be filed against you. Involuntary manslaughter. Obstruction.”
Dylan flinched a little at the last two words.
The judge pinned the boy with a penetrating stare. “The medical opinions about your mental state at the time of the incident and these last five and a half years qualify as mitigating factors. Therefore, the court accepts counsel’s recommendation for diversion. Do you understand what that means?”
Dylan shook his head. Cady could almost see the guilt eating away at him. His voice was barely a whisper. “No, ma’am.”
“There will be conditions you need to abide by. Professional counseling. Regular attendance at school. Staying out of trouble.” She took the glasses off her nose and studied him, her gaze stern. “You’ve had a tough road. But lots of people are dealt bad hands, young man. They shouldn’t determine the rest of your life.
“Next, the court will decide on a foster guardian for you until your parent is able to care for you. The facility you’re in now has a very good reputation.”
Dylan remained silent, but his shoulders slumped a little.
The judge continued, “But you have some pretty impressive people in your corner—do you realize that?”
“I . . . Ma’am?”
“I have letters from Deputy US Marshal Cady Maddix. Two from State Bureau of Investigation agents Davis and Rebedeau, all requesting the same placement for you.”
Seeming confused, Dylan looked at his attorney, who laid a hand lightly on his arm.
“These people seem to think that a solid foster home and mentoring might serve your interests better than a group home. And I’m inclined to agree.”
“You mean I’d move?”
“You would. Your new foster mother would be Laura Talbot. Her son is sheriff of Haywood County, and I have every reason to believe you’d be well cared for and your physical and emotional needs met. So I’m ruling that in one week’s time, you’ll be released to foster parent Laura Talbot. The best of luck to you, Dylan.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
After the judge left the courtroom, Dylan’s social worker turned him around and introduced him to Laura and Ryder. Cady hung back, content to survey the expressions on the boy’s face. Where his voice earlier had held a hint of the despair he’d shared with her after Forrester’s death, now it was alight with confusion. And maybe a flicker of hope.
She watched him converse with the others for several minutes. But was unprepared when Dylan whispered something to his social worker and then made his way over to her. “You did this, right?”
Discomfited, she said, “We all had a part. You have a lot of people pulling for you, Dylan.”
He looked away, his throat working. “We both know I don’t deserve it.”
“The judge thought you did. I agree with her.” His eyes sheened, and Cady felt an answering pang of sympathy. “Tragic accidents can happen, but they’re still accidents. One act in your childhood doesn’t have to define the rest of your life.” Maybe her past could be useful for once, if she could use the experience to help him move beyond his guilt. “It can tear you down, hold you back, or you can choose to fight through it. It’s your choice.”
“I . . .” He shuffled his feet. Met her gaze again. “I guess I choose to fight. But I’m not quite sure how.”
&nb
sp; She gave him a half smile. “You’re going to get a lot of help with that.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A writer’s hive mind is a scary place. It seems like every book takes a village, but this one required an army! With deep appreciation to Deputy US Marshal Robert S. for answering endless questions about USMS procedures and operations. I’ve appreciated your help!
Thank you to Dr. Gary Keller for last-minute brainstorming on mental and emotional states caused by trauma. Your insight is invaluable.
The Policewriters group is a great resource when I get stuck on a plot point. I want to thank Mike Black especially for your ready answers and for putting me in touch with other experts as needed.
Rick McMahan, (retired) senior special agent ATF, was a fountain of information about explosive detection K-9s, explosives, and tracing a weapon’s ownership, which was very helpful.
I’m indebted to A. L. “Buddy” Collins for answers to legal questions about criminal law in North Carolina and to Jason Bahnsen for pretty much every other legal question that pops into my head. Couldn’t have done it without you two!
Many thanks to Liz Flaherty and her geologist son, Chris Flaherty. Chris, your answers about various North Carolina mountains were fascinating. I’m just sorry edits changed where my bad guy had to die, LOL.
I’m also grateful to M. A. “Mat” Tribula, unit commander / chief pilot, NC State Highway Patrol-Aircraft Operations for the extensive insight into aerial assistance. I’m so envious of your very cool job!
Lieutenant John M. Weinstein helped me narrow down the type of weapon used in the story and explained proper terminology, which was tremendously helpful.
Jim Swauger, digital forensics investigator, is always there for my cell phone data retrieval questions, which are apparently never-ending. Many thanks, Jim.
Maxine and Harold Beckner provided necessary veterinary information for my character’s poor wounded dog. Thanks for saving him.
A huge thank-you to Sue Rebedeau, high bidder for the Lucky Stiff auction item. Your donation to NIVC Services Inc. entitled you to naming rights to one of the characters in Down the Darkest Road. Hope you enjoy her!
Deep appreciation to my agent, Danielle Egan-Miller—may that day be the one and only time you have to talk me off a cliff.
I’m deeply grateful to my fabulous editors, Jessica Tribble and Charlotte Herscher, who wielded the scalpel so delicately, LOL. It only hurt a little!
For Johnnie B., who had to suffer through an extra-long bout of deadline dementia this time around. I’ll make it up to you. Promise!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kylie Brant is the author of more than forty novels, including Cold Dark Places in the Cady Maddix series, the Circle of Evil Trilogy, and the stand-alone novels Pretty Girls Dancing and Deep as the Dead. A three-time RITA Award nominee, five-time RT Award finalist, and two-time Daphne du Maurier Award winner, Brant is a member of the Romance Writers of America, including its Kiss of Death mystery and suspense chapter; Novelists, Inc.; and the International Thriller Writers. Her books have been published in thirty-four countries and have been translated into eighteen languages. Visit her online at www.kyliebrant.com.
