by D G Barnes
Dana took the tray of coffees, and Jenny pulled off her coat and kicked off her sneakers.
“What was that about Mac? And why are you worried about her?” Jenny asked as they sat on the sofa.
Jenny listened and nodded in understanding as Dana explained. “That’s what has me worried about Ellie and Mac. Neither one of them deserves this shit. It simply isn’t right. I’d love to get that bitch and her weasel of a son alone for five minutes…”
Jenny chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see that.”
She laughed too as she took a sip from the coffee Jenny had brought her. She would be up all night with the caffeine she drank today. But she wasn’t going to say no to her double-double. “Thanks for this, by the way,” she said holding up the large paper cup.
“Anything for you.”
“Listen,” she said after they chatted about this and that, “I need your opinion on something.”
Jenny raised an eyebrow. “Okay, what’s up?”
“Ellie is doing a public book reading, not exactly sure when yet, but she has asked–no, pleaded for me to go.”
“And you want to know if I think you should?”
“Yeah.”
She sat back and crossed her legs at the ankles. “Is there a good reason why you shouldn’t?”
She looked at her, and Jenny looked back, head tilted and eyebrows raised in question. “Mac will probably be there too.”
“And that’s a problem, why?”
Dana pursed her lips and stared at her. She didn’t have a legitimate answer for her. It might be nice to see Mac again, from across the room.
“I don’t know. What would I say to her?”
“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to. If she says hi, say hi back. If she asks why you’re there, you say for Ellie.”
Dana thought for a moment. “That’s true. I would be there for Ellie.”
“Un-huh.”
She paused again, thinking of what her brother had said. “Jason thinks I still have feelings for her.”
“Do you?”
Did she? She did care about what happened to Mac and Ellie, that much was for sure. There had been several times over the last few weeks that she would catch herself thinking about Mac and the good times they had shared, and it had brought a smile to her face. But inevitably she would remember the last words Mac had said, that she had been just a distraction. “I don’t know. What difference does it make anyway? She doesn’t feel the same.”
“Are you sure about that?” Jenny sipped her coffee. “Mac had just found out about the lawsuit; she was upset and stressed. Isn’t it possible she lashed out at you simply because you were there?”
“I don’t know. She was pretty adamant.”
“Well, I do know for a fact she cared about you very much once. So, go to the reading for Ellie. Talk to Mac if you want and see how she reacts. If nothing else, you will know for sure.”
Dana sipped her coffee. It sounded all well and good, but what if Mac ignored her or got mad at her for being there. She wasn’t sure she could handle that.
Chapter Sixteen
Mac’s stomach churned, and she was thankful she hadn’t put much in it that morning. She shifted uncomfortably on the hard, wooden chair and glanced over at the table to her left where Doris and her son, Clayton, the lawyer, sat grinning like a pair of foxes lying in wait outside a chicken coop. The pressure of sitting in court and thinking about the trial made her regret her decision to represent herself, and the words Ricky had spoken months earlier came back to her. Mac, one of these days that stubborn-assed pigheadedness of yours is going to cost you dearly. Could it be possible his prophecy might come to pass? Was there a chance she might lose Ellie?
She looked back at her father who sat in the public gallery behind her. His reassuring smile gave her some small comfort, and she was glad he was there for her. She had insisted Ellie stay at home with Cait. There were a dozen or so other people in the gallery, none of which Mac knew.
Turning her attention back to the front, the judge looked up from the documents he was reviewing and addressed her. “Miss Mackenzie, before we begin, I would like to give you an opportunity to reconsider your decision to represent yourself.”
A glimmer of hope flashed through her, and she caught herself seriously considering her options. This was a golden opportunity if there ever was one, and she would be a fool not take it. But, before she had a chance to respond, the courtroom door opened noisily, drawing everyone’s gaze. A man dressed smartly, carrying a briefcase and a small cardboard box, quickly approached the front of the courtroom.
“That won’t be necessary your honor,” he said as he took a spot behind the chair to Mac’s right. “I will be representing Miss Mackenzie. Also, I apologize for my tardiness. However, it was unavoidable, your honor.” He placed his briefcase and the small box on the table.
Mac looked up at him, speechless. A small wave of relief washed over her, and for the first time in several weeks, she saw a glimmer of hope. She hadn’t expected this turn of events but was more than grateful, and she couldn’t help but wonder how Dana was involved. The man gave her a quick wink and looked back to the judge whose brow was knitted as he studied the newcomer.
“Your name, sir?” the judge asked.
“Jason Lawson, your honor.”
The judge nodded. “Miss Mackenzie are you willing to have Mister Lawson represent you?”
“Yes, your honor. Gladly.”
Clayton Pennington stood quickly. “Your honor I obje—”
“Overruled!” The judge adjusted his position in his seat and looked to the defense lawyer. “Very well then, Mister Lawson, have you familiarized yourself with the Plaintiff’s claims of Miss Mackenzie’s unsuitability as a guardian for Ellie Mackenzie and Mrs. Pennington’s petition to assume sole custody of Ellie Mackenzie?”
“I have your honor, and I would like to request this case be dismissed immediately as it is based solely on discrimination and fabricated evidence. I have documented evidence to back my request.” He opened his briefcase and removed several folders.
“Your honor!” Clayton said, rising once again.
“Sit down, Mister Pennington. This is not a criminal case,” the judge said sternly. “You will have your chance to speak. Mister Lawson, I deny your request. I would like to hear your evidence.”
“Yes, your honor.” Jason held a smaller folder out toward the bailiff. “This folder has a summary of the documentation I wish to present.” He paused for a moment, allowing the judge to do a quick scan of the folder once the bailiff handed it to him.
“Very well, continue.”
“First, I would like to address Mrs. Pennington’s claim that Miss Mackenzie is a harmful influence on Ellie for no other reason than she is a lesbian and somehow may cause Ellie herself to become gay. As ludicrous as this may sound. I admit I am no expert.” Jason picked up a folder and opened it. “Therefore, I have provided the court with a signed affidavit from Dr. Joseph A. Kent, a noted phycologist, stating, and I quote, scientific studies have shown that children raised by a homosexual parent or parents are as psychologically healthy and well-adjusted as those reared by a heterosexual parent or parents. Dr. Kent was kind enough to join us today and is willing to testify.”
Mac and the Penningtons turned to look at the man Jason gestured toward in the gallery. The man slowly stood and nodded. Mac’s heart thumped in her chest. She was still in awe that Jason would do this for her, but she was glad he was here.
“The court thanks you for your time, Dr. Kent, but your testimony will not be needed today,” the judge said. “Please, continue, Mr. Lawson.”
“Next, I will address the more serious claims of Miss Mackenzie providing alcohol to her niece and the subsequent intoxication of Ellie and her friend Monica.” Jason flipped the page in the folder and opened the box.
Mac watched with curiosity as he removed what appeared to be the bottom of a broken bottle and set it on
the table. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He remained confident and turned to the judge.
“Mrs. Pennington has stated both girls, Ellie and Monica, left her house the evening of her husband Stanley’s birthday party highly intoxicated. For the recorded, this statement is true.” He paused, and Mac took great pleasure in seeing the scowl cross Doris’ face. “The statement that a broken Scotch bottle that they have entered into evidence was found behind some bushes on Mrs. Pennington’s property after the party, however, is false.”
“Your honor, I must protest!” Clayton jumped from his chair.
“Mr. Pennington. Sit Down! I have told you once already that you will have your chance to speak. If I must remind you again, I will find you in contempt.”
Clayton sat, and Mac was sure little daggers flew from his eyes toward Jason.
“At this time, your honor, I would like to ask that the bottle in question be presented.”
“Mr. Pennington, the bottle, please,” the judge asked.
Clayton produced the bottle from a box beside his chair, and the bailiff handed it to the judge to examine.
When he finished, Jason continued. “As you have seen, your honor, the bottle is rather ornate and is made of thick glass. Also, for the record, it did come from The Rusty Anchor, a tavern that is owned and operated by Miss Mackenzie.”
Mac looked at him wide-eyed. What? How could that be? There was no way any of her staff would have given Ellie a bottle of booze, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ellie wouldn’t have stolen it.
“However,” Jason said, “this particular bottle was both empty and broken when it left the premises of The Rusty Anchor.” He picked up the bottle and read the label out loud. “MacIntosh Scotch Whiskey Special Edition.”
Mac’s breath caught; she remembered that name and knew exactly where the bottle had come from. There goes your case, you miserable bitch, she thought.
“This Scotch is made in a small town in Scotland and is not sold outside Great Britain. This particular bottle was purchased by Miss Mackenzie’s father, Joseph, during a trip to Scotland last summer and has been sitting on a shelf at The Rusty Anchor ever since.” He paused to pour a glass of water from the cravat on their table.
Her father had brought it to the Anchor to share with her and any of her regular customers on special occasions. The bottle was beautifully crafted and heavy. It had MacIntosh written in Gaelic molded into the glass on the side.
“The last of the Scotch was drained from this bottle just two weeks ago by Joseph himself, several weeks after it was allegedly found on Mrs. Pennington’s property. The bottle was broken when it was dropped by an employee of The Rusty Anchor the same day it was emptied.” Jason took the bottle from the bag it was in and, after adjusting its orientation, set it on the broken bottom. The two parts joined perfectly. “Your honor, one of my associates recovered this bottom piece from a glass recycling bin behind The Rusty Anchor a few days ago.”
Mac frowned at the Penningtons. They had fabricated the evidence. She shouldn’t find that hard to believe though. They were both devious people. Clayton stared at the desk, his case and his career as a lawyer floundering. Doris spoke into his ear, and while Mac couldn’t hear the words, she could see her face was red with anger.
“I see. Can you explain then how the two young ladies ended up intoxicated?” the judge asked.
“Yes, your honor, I can. It has to do with a thing called Electric Jell-O. Simply put, it is Jell-O made with alcohol instead of water.” Jason took a drink from the water he had poured. “Mrs. Pennington personally made the Jell-O and served it to Ellie and Monica. She made it clear to others in attendance at the party that the Jell-O was for the girls and no one else. She was also very insistent the girls eat it. I have affidavits from Mrs. Pennington’s housekeeper and several party guests stating what I have said to be the case.”
The judge shook his head as he flipped through the stack of affidavits Jason had mentioned. “Is there anything else you would like to add, Mr. Lawson?”
“One last item, your honor.” There was an audible groan from Clayton Pennington, and Mac suppressed a chuckle as the man hung his head. “If you turn to the document I have flagged with a red sticky, your honor, you will see a notice from the Nova Scotia Barristers’ Society effectively barring Mr. Pennington from practicing law six months ago.” Jason returned to his seat beside Mac.
The Judge hmphed and jotted a note before he turned to the Penningtons. “Mr. Pennington, do you wish to speak now?”
The lawyer raised his head and stood, his face stoic. “We do not, your honor.”
Doris gave him a surprised look. She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with a raised hand and a shake of his head as he sat.
“I thought not.” The judge scribbled another quick note, then closed the folder. He looked again at the Penningtons. “You two are despicable. Mrs. Pennington, you intentionally fed alcohol to your granddaughter and possibly endangered her life so you could discredit her aunt and get custody of her and her trust fund. One affidavit states that Ellie’s friend, Monica, was hospitalized because of your selfish act. You disgust me.” He shook his head again. “Bailiff, please, take Mrs. Pennington and Mr. Pennington into custody. They are to be held and handed over to the RCMP at their earliest convenience at which time they will be formally charged.” With that, he picked up his gavel and rapped it hard on its block.
Mac’s jaw dropped. She wasn’t expecting that. Neither were the Penningtons. Both sat frozen, staring straight ahead, their faces void of emotion. The judge turned to Mac and spoke in a gentler tone. “Miss Mackenzie, I am sorry you had to go through this. I remember the Penningtons appearing before me four years ago, but I never thought they would stoop to such levels. Please, go home to your niece and rest assured that those two,” he said, pointing to Doris and her son as they were being escorted out of the courtroom in handcuffs, “will not cause you any more trouble for a long time.”
“Thank you very much, your honor,” Mac said.
The judge nodded, then stood and retired to his chambers.
Mac sat back in her chair, still not believing what had happened. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to find her father wearing the biggest smile he could manage. She stood, leaned across the rail of the gallery, and gave him a big hug.
“I am so happy this all worked out and this mess is over, lass.”
“Me too, Dad. Me too.”
“I’m going to the Anchor to let your mother and Ellie know the good news,” he said. “Are you okay on your own?”
“Yeah, Dad. I’m fine; thanks.” She wiped away a happy tear. She was happy. Happier than she had been in a long time.
Her father left, and she turned toward Jason, who gathered his papers and folders. She thought about how she could repay him for helping her. Whatever amount he requested, she’d write the check without hesitation.
“Jason, I don’t know how to thank you. Why would you do this for me?”
He snorted. “Miss Mackenzie, I didn’t do this for you. I did this because I love my sister, and it seems she still cares a lot about you and Ellie. If you want to thank someone, you should go to Dana and thank her.” He closed his briefcase and faced her.
Mac sighed. “Sadly, a trip to Vancouver isn’t possible right now.”
He tilted his head and studied her. “Vancouver? She isn’t in Vancouver.” He walked past her and into the gallery.
“But the job at the university?” She followed him, confused by what he said. “I thought she would be living out there by now.”
He stopped but didn’t look at her. “She never took the job, Mac. She turned it down to be with you.” Without another word, he walked out of the courtroom, leaving her to digest his words.
Oh, my god! Dana had given up an opportunity she had dreamt of to be with her, only to have the door literally shut in her face. Was Jason’s presence here today at Dana’s request? Her happy tears turned
to ones of sorrow as she made her way out of the courthouse and into the crisp autumn air. What had she done? Was there anything she could do about it or was it already too late?
***
Dry leaves crunched under her feet, and a sudden gust of wind made Dana shiver and pull the collar of her coat closed. It was unseasonably cold for October, and she was glad she decided to wear slacks instead of a skirt. The full moon that hung above the horizon in the partially overcast sky caused the bare trees to cast eerie shadows along the walkway and steps of the public library. Images of Ichabod Crane running for his life through Sleepy Hollow, the horseman in hot pursuit, flashed in her mind. The story had scared the crap out of her as a child, and now the bony-fingered shadows that moved with the breeze caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand.
Dana quickened her pace and took the stairs two at a time. No small feat in her heels. Safely inside, she drew a breath and slowly released it. She chuckled, feeling foolish for letting herself get scared. After composing herself, she moved through the second set of doors and into the Emerald Bay library. As she walked the short distance from the entrance to the librarian's desk, her anxiety grew.
Ellie had texted her two weeks ago to inform her about how Jason had destroyed Doris and her son in court. Of course, she had already learned about it from Jason. Ellie then started her campaign to make sure Dana attended the public reading. Ellie had recruited Jenny into an attack on two fronts. Truthfully though, they didn’t need to try all that hard. Dana wanted to be there for Ellie, but the possibility of running into Mac made her hesitate.
An older woman working at a computer looked up and greeted Dana. “Hello. May I help you?” she asked in a hushed tone.
“Yes, I’m here for the public reading.”
“Just through that door,” she said, pointing toward a door to her left. “It started a few minutes ago, so, please, enter quietly.”
“I will. Thank you.” Dana walked softer as she approached the door. So far, her plan to remain unnoticed was working. She had intentionally arrived a few minutes late to avoid running into anyone she knew in the library proper. She slowly opened the door and let out a soft breath, relieved the audience had their backs to her, and the low light levels in the room made it easy for her to slip in unnoticed and take a seat in the back row. She picked a spot close to the door so she could make a stealthy exit when it was over. The room wasn’t huge but was spacious enough to accommodate a dozen rows of chairs with twenty or so in each. The last row was the only one still empty. A raised platform set up at the far end of the room acted as a small stage. Six large, comfortable-looking chairs sat at the back of the stage and two smaller chairs rested toward the front next to a microphone stand.
