Vaughan gave him a silver-plated smile, a mouthful of braces catching the light. “Mom taught me how to drive,” the kid said. “Maybe you can take me driving?”
Vanessa cleared her throat. “Uh, no! You have to have an adult with you and be in your teens to drive legally. Or did you forget?”
“He is an adult,” Vaughan replied. “With a Mercedes!”
Collin gave the woman a look. “Really, Aunt Vanessa? You’re going to do me like that?”
She shrugged. “An adult over fifty!”
Mark laughed, “Leave my godsons alone, please. We got this. I swear, you women do your sons a serious disservice the way you’re constantly babying them.”
Vanessa cut an evil eye at her best friend. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious. A woman cannot raise a boy to be a man when you’re always worrying about them breaking. They need to fall down and tear things up every now and again. All you want to do is spoil and coddle and pamper them so they grow up looking for some other woman to take care of them.”
John and Matthew were nodding their agreement, wide grins filling their dark faces. Vanessa moved to Katrina’s side, both women eyeing them with narrowed stares and arms crossed over their chests.
Vanessa changed the subject. “We’ll finish this conversation at the next Sunday breakfast, Mark Stallion. I have some things to say but I’m going to hold my tongue for the moment. Vaughan, you and Jake disappear, please, so we can have a conversation. And maybe, if it’s okay with Aunt Katrina and Uncle Matthew, Jake can go home with us tonight and you two can go to school together in the morning.”
“I can spend the night?” Jake asked excitedly.
Katrina gave him a look. “It will all depend on how long it takes you two to go upstairs to your room.”
The loud pounding of the two boys racing up the steps echoed through the home. The adults laughed, heads shaking at the two of them.
Katrina gestured toward London and Collin with her head. “Why don’t you two come sit down?” she said softly. “Vanessa was just filling us in on everything that’s going on.”
London suddenly felt like crying. “I’m so sorry, Judge Stallion. I never wanted my personal problems to touch Collin, or your family.”
“Oh, no! Sweetheart! You have nothing to apologize for!” Katrina exclaimed. She rose from her seat and wrapped her arms around the young woman’s shoulders. “We just want to make sure you’re both safe right now. That’s our only concern.”
Collin reached into his back pocket and handed Vanessa the note card. He watched as she read it once, then a second time. She tossed him a look before passing it to Matthew. No one spoke as it slowly made its way around the room. It stopped at Mark last and he slammed it against the table, his anger simmering.
“That fool is going to make someone hurt him,” Mark snapped. “I will bust him dead in his face!”
John shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. We all have too much to lose.”
“I still can’t believe it,” Luke said. “I met him at some fund-raiser last year and he seemed like a decent guy.”
“I’d heard rumors,” Katrina interjected, “but I never knew how to take them other than they were just that...rumors.”
“I knew he could be aggressive,” Matthew said, recalling an experience at a dinner where he’d given a waitperson a hard time. “I’d also heard him espouse his philosophy about women and relationships, and I’d dismissed it as nothing but talk.”
Vanessa shook her head. “Well, it’s more than that. From what little I was able to dig up, he’s been accused of some pretty wretched behavior, and was always able to get ahead of it. From what I gather he’s been able to use fear and intimidation to keep his victims silent. One woman apparently left everything—friends, family, business, everything—to get away from him.”
“He’s got everyone fooled,” London said, her voice a loud whisper. “Most think he’s this upstanding citizen and he’s truly a monster in sheep’s clothing.”
They all listened as London detailed the horrors Victor Wells had put her through. She spilled every detail, the violence, betrayal, the fear. When she finished, the emotion was at an all-time high, everyone in the room suddenly on edge.
“Well, that’s some low-level bullshit,” Mark snapped. “You don’t beat a woman and you don’t ever put your hands on a Stallion woman! No one threatens ours!”
London was shaking, unable to look any of them in the eye for fear she would start crying the ugly cry. Collin wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “So, what do we do?” he questioned.
“The Jerome James trial starts tomorrow, correct?” Matthew asked.
London and Collin both nodded.
“You ready?” his father asked.
“Yes, sir, we’re more than prepared.”
“I can put a private security detail on the two of them,” Vanessa said.
“I don’t think...” Collin started.
Vanessa held up a hand to stall his comment. “You won’t even know they’re there. Right now, we don’t have enough to legally go after him. We can’t get a restraining order until he does something.”
“He’s too smart for that,” Collin said.
“He’s not that smart,” Matthew concluded. “He’s leaving messages and sending flowers. Something’s got him riled up. He’ll make a mistake.”
Clarity suddenly washed over Collin’s face. “I petitioned a case review with the state, alleging prosecutorial misconduct. Justice Wells was the lead prosecutor on the original case. I’m sure he’s recently received notice.”
John gave his nephew a smile. “Sounds like you poked a bear!”
“I just did my job, sir.”
Matthew’s stare was filled with pride. He gave his son a slight nod. “Arrange for that security detail, Vanessa. Let’s see what happens over the next few days and go from there.”
* * *
Katrina ordered pizza for dinner, the family’s focus shifting to topics more positive. In no time at all they were all bonding over pizza, beer, salad and potato chips. Collin and London excused themselves early, needing to rest up for the next day. Mark and John were still knee-deep in conversation with Collin’s parents when Collin and London exited out the back door and returned to the guesthouse.
“So, what’s your pretrial ritual?” he asked as he poured them both a glass of moscato that he’d swiped from his parents’ refrigerator. He unwrapped the slices of pound cake his mother had sent with them.
“I always wear something red. It’s my power color. The night before, I sometimes binge-watch horror movies until I fall asleep. I just try to relax, and in the morning, I’ll take a walk and rehearse my opening statement or any key legal argument I need to make during trial.”
“Horror movies relax you?”
London shrugged. “I like horror movies! What about you? What are your rituals?”
“The night before, I usually read to unwind. Then in the mornings I might go horseback riding.”
“So, what do you read? What kind of books do you like?”
“Biographies and memoirs, mostly. I also enjoy a good history book.”
“No fiction?”
“The last fiction book I read was Guy Johnson’s Standing at the Scratch Line. You might enjoy that. It’s a historical romance of sorts. The book is on my desk, if you’re interested.”
London took a bite of her cake. “I’ll have to check it out.”
“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we soak in a hot tub, then crawl into bed? You can control the television remote, then in the morning we’ll go over to the ranch and ride.”
“Will we have time?”
“I’ll call over and ask them to saddle up two of the horses before we get there. We can ride for an hour, then come back and shower. I’ll make sure we get up early
enough so that we won’t feel rushed.” Collin took a sip of his wine and washed down the last bite of sweet cake.
London leaned her head on his shoulder. “Your family was very sweet to me.”
“My family likes you. They also know how much you mean to me. They’re not going to let anyone mess with a future Mrs. Stallion. You heard my uncle.”
“Mrs. Stallion!”
“Personally, I kind of like the sound of that. How about you?”
London shrugged. “Mrs. Jacobs hyphen Stallion sounds better.”
Collin laughed, “Whatever you want, baby, as long as it sounds like you’re all mine!”
* * *
London settled herself down between Collin’s legs as he wrapped himself around her. She leaned back against his broad chest. The heated bathwater lapped warmly around them. Collin hugged her tightly as she thanked him again for what he and his family were doing for her. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate the support you’ve all shown me,” she said as he leaned to kiss her forehead.
“You will always be able to trust that my family will be here for you. Always.”
She reached to kiss his lips, then allowed herself to relax for the first time in a good long while. The two breathed in sync with each other, and every so often a soft moan or a light whimper would escape from one of them. He leaned and kissed her neck, whispering into her ear. “You are so beautiful,” he said, moving his mouth back to her mouth as he kissed her hungrily.
A firm hand ventured into London’s nether regions, slick moisture dampening his fingers. He continued to kiss her, his hands teasing and taunting her femininity with exact precision. An orgasm suddenly shook London to her core, the sensation jolting her into reverie. Before she could catch her breath, Collin scooped her up into his arms and carried her to his bed. He sheathed himself with a condom and eased his body into hers. His strokes were slow and controlled, gaining in momentum as London moaned with each thrust. Collin found himself lost in her, completely abandoned in everything he loved about London.
She pushed against him, meeting him stroke for stroke, harder and harder. London had missed his touch without even knowing it, and he hers, and they loved each other as if they might not ever be able to make love to each other again. Collin savored the sensation of hot wet velvet wrapped tightly around him and when his orgasm erupted it was powerful and loud as he screamed out with pleasure, London unrelenting in her ministrations. As his body spewed in pleasure, London shrieked his name over and over, her nails digging into the flesh along his back. Between them the air was thick and heavy, and both felt as though they might never catch their breath.
London gasped as she pressed herself beneath him, holding on tightly. She nuzzled her face into his neck, lightly lapping at the salty perspiration that moistened his flesh. Their joy was epic and all either wanted was for it to go on for eternity.
“Are you okay?” Collin whispered, hugging her tightly.
London nodded her face against his chest. “Better than okay,” she answered. “I feel incredible.” And then they both drifted off into a deep sleep.
Chapter 12
Entering the courtroom, Collin wasn’t surprised to find his family seated in the galley. His parents sat side by side, with John and Mark seated together in the row behind them. They all greeted the two of them with a nod.
He and London were talking to the bailiff, waiting for the jailer to bring Mr. James to the courtroom, when Victor Wells swooped into the room. His arrival was quite the production as he greeted the prosecutor like they were two old friends. He made as if to move toward London when Collin stepped between them.
“Justice Wells,” he said, his curt tone short and to the point.
“Attorney Stallion.”
“I’m glad to see you got my invitation. Wasn’t sure if you’d show up. Cowards usually run when they’re put on the spot.”
Victor bristled. “You’re playing in the big leagues now, Stallion. I will destroy you.”
“I’m sure you’ll try.”
“It’s going to be a shame to see your career crash and burn so soon.”
Collin took a step closer to the man, his voice dropping an octave as he whispered under his breath, “Stay away from London. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget you ever knew her.”
Victor whispered back, “I’m not going away. You don’t know who you’re messing with. She broke my rules and I won’t be done until she’s been punished. And you, little boy, will just be collateral damage.” The judge smiled, doing an about-face as he settled himself on a front pew. His expression was smug, and it took everything in Collin not to punch him in his face.
As he turned, Collin caught his father’s eye. Matthew was staring at him intently. Collin tossed him a smile. Theirs was a silent conversation that passed briefly, something between father and son that only they understood. Collin gave him one last nod as he moved to the defense table.
London was standing there watching the room, fighting to contain her anxiety. The color had drained from her face and she was visibly struggling to keep herself standing, her knees shaking with fear. She was holding tight to the table with one hand, the other balled into a tight fist at her side. Under her breath she was muttering to herself, “Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.”
She shot Victor a narrowed glare before focusing her attention on Collin. He picked up a folder from the table and leaned against her. They huddled close to each other, feigning interest in the paperwork in his hands.
“How are you holding up?” he asked her softly.
“I’ve been better. He said something to you, didn’t he?”
“He’s just trying to throw us off our game.”
“Well, it’s working.”
“Don’t you worry. Focus on the case. That’s our priority. Let’s prove he screwed our client over. Let’s make Justice Wells regret getting out of bed this morning!”
London smiled and nodded. “Okay,” she said. “We can do this!”
“Damn Skippy!” he responded.
London laughed as he pulled out her chair and held it for her. She took a seat, folding her hands atop the table to wait.
Jerome James’s arrival was met with a low burst of noise and a rise of energy throughout the wood-paneled room. He was clearly happy to see his son and family, and for the first time since knowing him, Collin sensed a hint of nervousness in the man’s demeanor as he shook the elder’s hand.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, young man. Mighty pretty day outside.”
Collin smiled. ‘Yes, sir, it is.”
“Try your best to keep it that way, please.”
“Yes, sir,” Collin said with a soft chuckle.
Minutes later the bailiff called for everyone in the room to stand. The judge, the Honorable Liza Montenegro, entered the room, swept her robes beneath her and took a seat. The bailiff then called the courtroom to order.
Collin suddenly jotted something on the notepad in front of him. He slid the note past Mr. James toward London. As she read the words I love you; now, kick butt, printed in bold letters, a smile swept across her face, and she nodded. Mr. James grinned, looking from one to the other.
“Yes, sir,” he muttered. “A really pretty day!”
“Is the prosecution ready?” Judge Montenegro asked.
“Yes, your honor,” the prosecutor answered.
The judge turned her gaze toward the defense table. “I have a motion before me to dismiss all charges against your client, Jerome James. Is that correct, Ms. Jacobs?”
London rose to her feet. “It is, Your Honor.”
The prosecutor stood up, as well. “Your Honor, Mr. James’s original conviction was recently set aside, and he has been granted a new trial. The defense has nothing to substantiate their re
quest for all charges to be dropped. This is clearly a waste of the court’s time.”
“That is untrue, Your Honor. The defense is prepared to show beyond any reasonable doubt that our client was wrongly charged and should never have been convicted. We’re prepared to show that the state purposely withheld viable evidence in Mr. James’s initial case that would have completely exonerated him.”
The judge paused, seeming to drop into reflection. She finally nodded her head. “Proceed, Counselor. Let’s see what you have.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
For the next fifteen minutes, London succinctly presented the case they’d spent weeks laying out. She introduced all the newly discovered evidence. CODIS, the DNA database system, had identified the unknown male DNA profile from the semen in the Jameses’ marital bed and the bloody towel discovered in the woods behind the home. It was a perfect match for a convicted felon named Robert Palmer. Palmer, originally a native of New Mexico, had a lengthy criminal record in five states and had been living in Texas at the time of Mary James’s murder. He was also a perfect match to hair fibers recovered at the scene of the crime. And a perfect match to hair fibers found at the murders of six other women bludgeoned to death in the same manner as Mary James while her husband was in prison. Robert Palmer was currently doing three life sentences in the state of Arizona.
She introduced the eyewitness testimony of Mr. James’s son, who’d been adamant that his father had not been home at the time of the murder, and his detailed description of the bad man who had hurt his mother. He had described perfectly Robert Palmer’s facial scar and eye deformity. London successfully entered into evidence every document from the prosecution’s files confirming Jerome James’s innocence that had been withheld at trial.
She moved back to the table to check the last of her notes. The prosecution was arguing to have some of the evidence excluded. Collin gestured for her attention and she leaned across the table as he whispered in her ear. She stepped back and stared at him, a question mark on her face.
Collin nodded his head slowly until she gave him a look of agreement.
“Objection,” London suddenly called out to something the prosecutor was saying out of turn.
A Stallion Dream Page 15
