by Aitana Moore
Williams motioned toward the defense table while keeping her eyes on Bennett. “She has a history of violence. She has priors for robbery: at seventeen years of age she stole a valuable diamond ring from her grandmother, the woman who clothed, fed her and paid for her education between the ages of six and eleven; the woman who saved her life by paying for her hospital bills when she had spinal meningitis a few years later. This—" Williams now looked at Lee. "This is a dangerous, amoral woman, Your Honor. The state has shown more than probable cause for this case to be bound over. Thank you."
Returning to her seat, Williams waited. Bennett looked over his notes, then looked at Lee, at Paxton and at the prosecution desk.
"I do find that with the forensic evidence available, especially considering the defendant's flight on the same night of Joseph Keane’s murder, there is enough probable cause for a trial. I will bind all charges over for further proceedings before a grand jury."
Damn it.
Bennett took the gavel to dismiss the court, but Williams stood again. "Your Honor, the state would also like to ask that the bond be rescinded, and the defendant held in prison to wait for trial."
Paxton also stood. "Your Honor, bail was already paid."
"Precisely," Williams insisted. "The defendant has a very rich boyfriend who can pay almost any amount the state sets, including a million dollars cash. She represents a clear flight risk, Your Honor, and she is a danger to society."
Looking aggrieved, Paxton said, "That is gross exaggeration, Your Honor. And the defendant owns no passport. In fact, she recently almost died trying to save the life of another girl in Mexico — a case that has become known to you. Also, Mr. Bryce's payment of a large cash bond shows his devotion to my client and his trust in her. Mr. Bryce is a renowned citizen of the United Kingdom and nobody's fool."
"The defendant might be able to obtain false documents and flee again, and cheat Mr. Bryce, clever and renowned as he may be, out of a million dollars," Williams argued. "I think her previous actions don't put her past that."
"The bail was set and paid, and I won't overturn that decision," Bennett said. "The defendant is free to go, and the date for the trial will be set at arraignment. We're done."
He banged the gavel as Williams turned to Paxton, shrugging. "Had to try ..."
They shook hands as all present stood at the same time as Bennett, who left through a side door. The public began to disperse, murmuring and discussing the case, and Lee didn’t look back as she was escorted out.
SEVEN
Lee was free to go, for a while anyway. Free until a trial that would begin months later, so that the defense and the prosecution had time to build their cases.
"We'll get discovery now," Paxton said as he and Ava walked her to a back door of the courthouse. "We'll have access to all the evidence, and our experts will examine it independently. Do you want a ride home, honey?"
With a start, Lee realized that she didn't know where to go. To Billy? He must know she was there, and the fact that he hadn't shown up in court meant that he was far from well. It would be hard to see him; it would be very hard. And Lee couldn’t expect much mercy from her sister-in-law, Maddy, but it was no time to be a coward — except in relation to James.
Ava noticed Lee’s bewilderment, and her eyes were soft. "We can drive you somewhere, wherever you say."
Was home the house where Lee was supposed to have murdered Joe, and where her mother still lived?
"Lynn!"
Lee turned to find her mother bearing down upon them.
"Do you want to escape?" Paxton asked her in a low voice.
"No, it's all right." Lee pressed his arm and squeezed Ava’s hand. "Thank you."
"We'll see you soon. And we'll pick their case apart, don't worry."
April had caught up with Lee, although she was busy throwing an evil look at Paxton's back as he walked away with Ava. "Nasty man! What was he on about? And how did he know about Jada Phillips and the fight with Joe? Did you tell him?"
Lee could only shake her head slightly. That was the first she had seen of her mother in five years.
"How did he know, then?" April insisted.
"Small town, I guess."
"So disagreeable to have anyone snooping and unearthing things that don't have anything to do with anything."
April's gaze switched to her daughter. In spite of high heels, the top of her head only reached Lee's nose, and she was running to fat through a fondness for booze and junk food. She pulled Lee into a tight embrace, despite having looked as if she feared catching a disease from her daughter just a second earlier.
"It's been hard for me to come and see you," April confessed as she stepped back and rummaged in her cheap bag for a tissue that she applied to the corner of her eyes, although there were no tears in them. "You know, thinking of Joe and all. That was hard, what happened. With Cora in the house, too."
Her green eyes flew up to her daughter's almost identical ones. "Did you do it, Lynn? Just tell me."
"How can you ask me that?" Lee whispered.
"Then who did?"
"We've been through all this before, Mama."
"I know. Just never in person, with me looking at you. I guess I believe you. I’d like to."
Again, Lee said nothing. She wanted to run, but instead she allowed April to caress her arm. Her mother's nails were bubble-gum pink and far too long. She had obviously gone to the salon before the hearing.
"You look good. A lil' bit thin and a lil' bit pale — don't they let you wear make-up in that detention center, not even for court? But you look good enough to eat, like I used to." April gave a small laugh at the silence that followed. "Well, don't rush to tell me I don't look awful."
"You look tired, Mama."
April made a noise of annoyance. "Well, some people don't have millionaire boyfriends just whisking them around."
It wasn't as if April didn't know about the desert and their desperate trek, and about Lee's struggle to survive at the hospital in Arizona. But things were always worse for her than for anyone else, no matter what they had been through.
"Thank God you have that man," April said. "I couldn't have helped with your bail, with your defense, nothing. The house is mortgaged again, you know. It’s the aggravantingest thing."
"How?" Lee couldn't help sounding exasperated. "Mama, it was all paid for."
"How, Lynn? You ask how? Bless your little heart, I don't think you remember what it's like here — what the recession did to this place. I know people who never got a job again. Do you know how much I earn?"
"You've told me many times."
April nodded. "And I guess it just bores you?"
"I've always done what I could."
"All right, all right. Let's not fight." April’s smile was tight. "Have you spoken to Cora?"
"Only once."
"I haven't spoken to her either. I didn't know what to say about—" she motioned toward the courtroom. "About this. Does she think you did it?"
"Mama …"
"All right. Best to wait and see, right? You got some expensive lawyers, the kind that got O.J. off. You should just remember that when trial comes, your sister might be soopenah, and there won't be anything I can do about that. That's not me breaking our agreement, Lynn, that's the law."
"I know."
The nails softly scratched Lee’s sleeve. "And about our agreement—"
Lee interrupted her. "I can't touch my money. It would just be taken away, all of it."
April took a step back and looked around in a pantomime of secrecy mixed with horror. "Then don't say a word about it. Maybe your boyfriend can help?"
"I can't ask James for anything else than what he's doing."
Crossing her arms, Mrs. Keane considered her daughter. "Well, maybe you can drop a hint, just a hint. He wouldn't want your mother to be thrown out on the street, and you to lose the house where you grew up. That house will be yours one day."
The image of 247 How
ard Lane made Lee want to laugh. What would James make of that place? She hoped he’d never see it.
"Anyway, I don't think I can have you there," April said pensively. "I think it's not a good idea."
That was true enough. "I wouldn't want to be there."
"No, I guess not. I should have sold that house, but I couldn't." April sighed. "In any case, come and see me. Billy's asked about you."
It took a moment for Lee to speak. "How is he?"
"You haven't seen him in the courtroom, have you?" The corners of April's lips turned downward as she shrugged. Two folds from mouth to chin showed that it was a habitual grimace of hers. "He's not well, Lynn. You'd best prepare yourself." She brightened up. "Anyways, you come see me and you bring that handsome boyfriend of yours. Handsome and rich and devoted. Well, devotion don't last long, I think we both know that. Grab what you can when you can!"
She winked to emphasize her motherly advice, repeated, "Come and see me and Billy," and walked toward the front doors of the courthouse.
Lee would go to Billy, but she would leave through the back. Murders weren’t common in Greensboro, and there might be some attention from the press, although she had only spotted a couple of bored reporters in court.
But as she stepped into the alley behind the courthouse, there he was. There was James, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, waiting for her.
He is home.
It was if the back door had opened into an alternate reality where things were as they ought to be. It was the door to a fairy tale. Lee smiled, and he smiled back; as she hurried toward him, he opened his arms.
"I didn't think you'd be here," she said, her cheek against his.
"Nice that I can still surprise you." He looked at her and said, "I only have two immediate questions: where is your husband — and is he bigger than me?"
She laughed. "I don't know — or I do know, but I haven't seen him yet. And, no, Billy isn't bigger than you."
"Does he have guns?"
"No."
"What a miracle in your land." He motioned toward the car, a black Camaro. "Then will you climb into my chariot before it turns into a pumpkin?"
"Don't you want to know—?"
"Magpie, I wanna know a whole lotta stuff. But first things first."
He opened the door to the passenger side for her and went around the car to get behind the steering wheel.
"James—" she tried again.
"No time for talking now," he said. "I have to concentrate on this P, R, N, L-D thing here."
"Why didn't you get a car with manual transmission?"
"Only the luxury models have it. And I want to be inconspicuous."
Why did she feel happy? He was probably going to skin her alive in a second, but at the moment he was cursing as he tried to type an address into the GPS, then punching it and muttering, "I know where it is anyway."
Lee covered her mouth to laugh, and he winked at her as he drove out of the alley and found his way to N Elm Street.
"Do you happen to be in Irving Park? You'd want to go that way."
She pointed, and the car swerved, a driver honking behind them.
"Stupid automatic driving," James muttered. "No nuance."
The houses in the quiet streets they crossed got bigger and bigger, with lawns that looked green even in winter, until James entered a gate, followed a small roundabout and stopped in front of a large white house with a shingled roof and shiny black shutters.
"Inconspicuous, huh?" she remarked with a twinkle.
He led her inside with a hand on the small of her back. Once they crossed the threshold, he swept her up, closed the door with his foot and ran up the stairs with her to a room at the end of the corridor on the second floor. It had a huge bed, where he carefully laid her.
"James!”
He put a finger to his lips. "Shh-hh. I've paid a million dollars cash for this. Don’t you spoil it.”
She didn’t want to spoil anything; she pulled him closer when he leaned over her and they kissed, his hand on her hair. Lee unbuttoned his shirt to touch his skin; it felt as if she hadn’t touched him in so long. As he opened her dress and his eyes ran over her, she realized that he was looking for the scars of her recent surgeries. He ran his finger over the small red line on her lower left side. "Does it hurt?"
She shook her head and he kissed the scar; he touched the line on her right side, and the one above her belly button. "Here?"
"No."
He kissed her ribs and the top of one of her breasts. "Here?"
Lee pressed against him, but he put a hand on her hip, gently moving it down. "Stay still. I don't want to hurt you."
Afterwards, lying on his chest, she muttered, "This is terrible.”
"Oh, thanks very much."
"It's terrible that you feel so good."
"What do you think you feel like?"
"Like a million dollars?"
"You’re a bargain at a million. I’d have yelled at my bankers to get me ten million cash, at least." He kissed her again and again. "Although I haven't got my money’s worth yet."
She kissed him back, hating to stop — but eventually said, "You know, the longer it takes you to ask me questions the more nervous I get."
"It's all right, Mag. I'm not going to throw a tantrum. Not when I just found out you hit men on the head with crowbars."
She smiled against his mouth. "I only ever tried to brain you with a lamp. That's how much I like you."
James lifted his head to look at her. "A more pressing problem is that there is nothing to eat in the house and I'm starving. Well, there are some breakfast things, and not enough of them. So, if the lady will get dressed, I'll take her out for dinner."
"That will be easy, since I only have one outfit to wear."
"I’m about to surprise you again.”
He leapt out of bed and walked into the next room, returning with a towel wrapped around his waist and pulling a suitcase she recognized. She sat up.
"Where did you get that?"
"Had Diego send it from Mexico."
Lee’s mouth hung open. "You can't be serious!"
"I didn't speak to him directly. It was more of a minions-to-minions communication." He threw the suitcase on the rectangular stool at the foot of the bed and opened it. "Hope it's all in there, and there are some new things for winter. I actually entered a shopping mall to buy those for you, which was one of the things I swore I’d never do in my life. That’s how much I like you."
Tucking a sheet around her body, Lee leaned forward and pulled at the soft cardigans and sweaters he had bought, still wrapped in fine tissue paper, and at her things — until she found a bag and looked inside the zipper. The little boxes were still there. She opened one, and the diamond brooch sparkled. She pulled out the other box and freed the chain of white gold with the medal James had given her.
He fastened it around her neck. "There. Where it should be."
Although he kissed her shoulder, he didn’t mean to start anything; he jumped up and down, clutching the towel and looked like a boy with his hair falling over his eyes. "Come on, come on! I can't stay here and get excited because I haven't eaten, and all the blood will go down there, and I'll faint. Let's go now, all dirty, disgusting and full of sin. Let's go to dinner, Magpie."
EIGHT
Christmas was coming, and municipal authorities wanted everyone to know it. The main streets of Winston Salem were wrapped in lights as James drove through them to an old red-brick warehouse that had been turned into an Italian restaurant.
"I reserved the private room,” he told the smiling receptionist. “The name's Bryce. James Bryce.”
Lee smiled. He would have made a great Bond.
"Welcome, Mr. Bryce," the girl said brightly. "This way, please."
Her high heels made almost no noise as she led them over the polished cement floor to the other side of the warehouse and chatted with them, "Are you staying in town for business?"
James smiled as he pulled Lee closer. "Pleasure."
"And how do you like Winston Salem?"
"It's like a mini Gotham City."
The receptionist's smile wavered, but Lee reassured her, "He loves it."
"Thank you! Here you are."
She motioned them into a small room that must once have been an office. The city gleamed through a large window.
"Will you be hot, do you think?" the receptionist asked, indicating the fireplace in front of their table. A fire crackled and popped inside it.
James removed Lee's coat and his own jacket. "It's absolutely perfect."
"I'll send the waiter with the wine list, then."
Pulling the chair for Lee, James sat to her left. When the waiter came, he was quick to order the wine and a few items on the menu.
Once their drinks were poured, James asked, “Should I be calling you Mrs. Wheeler?"
“I never took Billy's last name. And I tried to tell you. I asked you to come so I could tell you, and you wouldn't."
"Somehow, I think you might have told me a while ago. It's the kind of thing to let drop, casually, when you see that a man's getting a bit serious about you."
“I didn’t think I could tell you any of this.” She stared at the pattern on the table cloth. "It's the worst thing I've ever done, leaving Billy like that."
"Not killing Joe?"
Lee hesitated a moment, then shook her head.
"All right. Tell me about Billy, then."
"Billy was my best friend."
"I thought that was the redhead."
"Caleb?" Lee could feel herself flushing at a certain terseness in James’ tone. "No, he wasn't my friend."
