by Juniper Hart
“So, what’s your plan here, Rose?” Derek asked.
Rose struggled to catch her breath. “I – I don’t know,” she blurted out. Instantly, she regretted her words and she glanced at Chase again, who turned to glower at her.
“Oh, that’s great, Dad,” he groaned. “You hired a broad who doesn’t know anything. Why don’t you just throw me in jail right now?”
“Chase, maybe you should shut up and listen. I’m sure Rose has more to say, don’t you, Rose?”
At that moment, she wasn’t sure who she hated more; the surly son or the condescending father.
There’s probably enough loathing in me for both of them equally, she reasoned. She found herself looking at the meek Christiana and wondered how she had survived all those years living with the two tyrants in the room.
“I need to speak with Chase alone,” Rose rushed on. “Attorney-client privilege.”
Derek began to shake his head. “No,” he said. “We handle everything as a family.”
Rose felt a spark of irritation flow through her.
“No, you don’t understand,” Rose said firmly. “I must speak with Chase alone or I can’t help him. This is not up for negotiation.”
Derek’s eyes flashed, and for a moment, Rose was sure he was going to fight with her. Their eyes clashed, her steely green irises hardening as if she were challenging him to argue.
Please, give me a hard time. I’m already looking for an excuse to walk away. Give me anything so I can go back to Pawson and tell him I tried and you’re refusing to cooperate.
Derek opened his mouth to say something, but instead, Chase spoke.
“Get out. Leave me alone with her,” the younger man sighed.
Derek turned and stared at his son. They didn’t speak, but Rose got the distinct impression that they were having a private conversation that didn’t concern her. Her skin prickled as she watched Christiana raise her head then, and without saying a word, both men turned to look at her.
Another minute of silence ensued, with all three Van Goulds in the room communicating with only their eyes, and Rose wanted to bolt for the door.
What’s going on here? She wondered. Then she asked herself if she really wanted to know.
“All right, Rose,” Derek said pleasantly. “We’ll leave you and Chase to talk. Can I get you a drink?”
She shook her head, although she happily could have gone for one.
“No thanks,” she breathed, watching as Christiana rose from the piano stool and disappeared into the house without saying a word.
Derek cast his son one final gaze before smiling at Rose.
“I look forward to seeing more of you, Rose,” he told her, winking.
She forced herself not to grimace.
He is paying the bill for this defense, that’s all, she told herself. Play nice with him. Your business is with Chase, not Derek. If you lose him as a client, there will be hell to pay for this.
The pep talk did little to alleviate Rose’s disgust. She had a feeling she was going to see more of Derek Van Gould than her sanity could handle.
“What do you want from me?” Chase asked, shattering Rose’s reverie.
She blinked and peered at him dubiously. “How about your side of the story,” she replied, turning fully to regard him. “What happened that night?”
Chase snorted and rose from the couch. “Can’t you read? Or did you even bother to look at the police reports?”
She gnawed on the insides of her cheeks to keep herself from screaming at him.
This is the reason Pawson handed this case to me, she figured. He knows this family is ridiculous. He didn’t want the hassle of dealing with them.
“I can read. I also know that things get lost in translation and memories resurface and change. Things said in the heat of the moment or under pressure get misconstrued. I would like to go through it with you again, if you don’t mind.”
Chase was suddenly right in front of her, as if he had flown through the room, causing Rose to step back, startled.
“I do mind,” he hissed, his nose almost touching hers. “I have said everything I’m going to say.”
Fear flooded through Rose, and she took another step back.
“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” she whispered, blinking back her terror.
Chase grinned then, a cruel, unnatural smile. “You will help me,” he snarled. “If you know what’s good for you.”
Anger and consternation swept through Rose.
“I don’t know how you expect me to help you if you don’t tell me what I need to know!” she barked back.
He seemed surprised by her outburst. His smile widened. “You will find a way,” he replied. “Or you might find yourself in the same position as poor Suki.”
Chapter Three
Rose stared at her plate, though she didn’t have much appetite. She heard her father saying something, but she could not focus on his words.
Not only did he threaten me, he basically confessed to the murder, she thought, unable to forget about her encounter with Chase Van Gould. What am I supposed to do with that? And if he is one of the killers—or the only killer—I can’t put him on the stand. He’ll perjure himself. I have a feeling that a plea bargain is going to be out of the question. I’m going to Pawson first thing on Monday and—
“Rose!”
She looked up at her father, her green eyes flashing.
“Why are you yelling at me?” she demanded. “I’m right here!”
Her stepmother Paula laughed, and Rose eyed her contemptuously.
“Your father has been calling your name for five minutes,” Paula explained.
Shame colored Rose’s pale face. “Oh. Sorry,” she mumbled, shoveling a forkful of broccoli into her mouth.
“Rough day at the office?” Clive asked.
Rose didn’t know how to answer. Instead, she forced another bite of Paula’s inedible casserole down her throat.
“Rosie? You can talk to us, you know,” Clive chided gently. “We barely see you enough as it is. I would hate for you to clam up when we get to see you.”
Rose wiped her mouth and sat back in her chair.
“I got a murder case,” she told them reluctantly.
“A murder case!” they repeated in both awe and horror. The awe was from Paula.
“Who got murder—oh no, not the Japanese girl!” she exclaimed.
Rose averted her eyes and nodded.
“Who are you defending?” Clive asked, and Rose could hear the stress in his voice. “Please don’t tell me it’s the Van Gould boy.”
She didn’t answer.
“You know that entire family is not right, Rose. You shouldn’t get involved with that,” Clive sighed, seeming to lose his appetite as he placed his napkin on his half-finished plate of food.
“I don’t really have a choice, Dad,” she reminded him. “When the boss speaks…”
“Maybe I should have a chat with Ron,” Clive muttered.
Rose laughed. “Dad, it’s bad enough that everyone thinks I got the job at Peterson and Pawson because of you. The last thing I need is you pulling some millennial parental crap and speak to my boss for me,” Rose grunted, rolling her eyes.
“Rose, the Van Goulds are…”
She stared at him expectantly.
“Are what? Too rich? Untouchable?” A pain in my ass?
“No,” Clive said slowly. “They are an old family in Riverton.”
Father and daughter exchanged a look, neither one of them wanting to say what they thought out loud.
“What does that mean?” Paula demanded. “What does that have to do with anything? Just because they’ve lived here for a long time doesn’t mean they should get special treatment!”
Rose looked away. She didn’t want to admit it, but she agreed with her new stepmother.
Paula was from Cody, and while Yellowstone certainly boasted their fair share of oddities, Paula didn’t have a proper handle
on what was happening in Riverton.
Do any of us really have a handle on what is happening in Riverton? I certainly don’t.
“So he’s confessed then?” Clive asked, ignoring his wife’s question.
Rose shook her head. “No. Not that it means much either way. There are witnesses who saw him and the others with Suki before she disappeared.”
“I hope those witnesses don’t disappear,” Clive mumbled.
Rose could not deny she had thought the same thing.
“So far, everyone is accounted for. It’s a circumstantial case at best, but—”
“But it depends on the jury,” Clive finished.
He and Rose shared another look, and then both of them shifted their gazes away.
This is crazy, she thought to herself. He’s insane for even bringing those stories into this.
“Why are you so distracted?” Clive asked. “You think he did it?”
Rose frowned. “I can’t discuss that with you, Dad.”
He laughed. “You can’t blame me for trying,” he replied, and Rose tossed her napkin at him.
“Anyway, all my clients are innocent, remember? It’s the first thing you learn in law school.”
Her father and stepmother hooted with laughter, and Rose stood to clear the table.
The truth was, it was more than just the case that bothered Rose. Since her meeting with Chase the previous day, she was consumed with the sense that she was being watched.
You’re just being paranoid, she told herself. No one is watching you.
And yet, she could not shake the feeling that even after she got home, there were eyes on her everywhere. To make matters worse, Sadie had increased her unease, prowling around the house, meowing indiscriminately at nothing and everything.
I haven’t even gotten anywhere on the case and I’m already losing my nerve. I need to talk to Ron about this.
But Rose knew she wouldn’t.
He trusted me with this and I must see it through. I just have to find a way to make Chase trust me.
She wondered if Derek Van Gould could help her with that. The idea filled her with distain, but she could see that Chase’s father obviously had influence in his son’s decisions, even if Chase would probably deny it.
I’ll call him tomorrow and see if he can get Chase to open up a little bit. If I don’t try to do something, I may as well just throw in the towel right now.
“Dessert?” Rose called, placing the dishes in the sink.
Paula appeared in the doorway. “I’ll help you,” she said, pulling open the fridge. “Thank you for bringing the pie. It’s your father’s favorite.”
Yes, I think I know that a bit better than you do. He is my father after all. I’ve known him a little bit longer, Rose thought, but she didn’t speak.
Instead she painted a smile on her face and focused her attention on loading the dishwasher. After her mother’s death, Rose became very close to her father. Since he had met Paula, their relationship had suffered because Paula took up all his time. She had never forgiven Paula for that.
“You know, Rose,” Paula began, “your dad and I would like to see more of you around here.”
Rose bristled in annoyance. “Paula, I would love to see more of—” She tried not to hesitate. “—you also, but I’m working seventy hours a week. I’m afraid the little free time I have, I use to sleep.”
Paula pulled a knife from the drawer and began to cut the lemon merengue pie.
“Sometimes I think that you use work as an excuse,” Paula sighed.
Rose rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I think you have no idea of what it takes to be a lawyer,” she shot back. “I know that being a part-time librarian is demanding and all, but…”
Rose allowed herself to trail off, not wanting to say something she’d regret.
Paula’s jaw locked, and she spun to glare at her stepdaughter.
“I have worked jobs where the hours are long too, Rose. I know how demanding bosses can be in these situations, but my family has always come first.”
Rose turned cold with fury. Is she suggesting that I put my father over my work?
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand anything,” she retorted. “You have your own perceptions of everything. Who am I to interfere with that?”
And by perceptions, I mean delusions, Rose thought nastily.
“I’m trying to understand what it means to be a lawyer!” Paula snapped. “But you’re never around to tell me anything.”
“Because I’m too busy being a lawyer,” Rose finished, doing her best to keep her voice even. “You see how that works?”
“Maybe I deserve a law degree, arguing with you all the time,” Paula shot back, tears pooling in her eyes.
Oh yeah, you’d make a great attorney, Paula. You can always cry and manipulate the jury that way.
“How are my two favorite girls?” Clive appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, a taut smile on his face. It didn’t look like he had just gotten there.
He heard us, Rose realized. And he’s going to blame me again for not trying hard enough.
“We’re good. I just remembered, I have some work to do tonight. I’m going to get going,” Rose said, wiping her hands on a tea towel and closing the dishwasher.
Clive’s face fell. “No,” he mumbled. “Really, Rosie?”
She nodded quickly and kissed his cheek. “Sorry, Dad. I just remembered,” she repeated. “Thanks for a great dinner.”
Rose sauntered out of the kitchen and into the hallway toward the front door.
Paula came hurrying out after her.
“Rose, I don’t know why it always has to be such a production every time you come to visit,” she sighed.
Rose didn’t answer as she pulled on her boots.
“I’m not your enemy, Rose!” Paula called out pleadingly. “Don’t treat me like one.”
“You’re also not my mother!” Rose spat back. “Stop trying to act like her.”
Rose spun and stormed from the house, pretending not to see the stunned expression of hurt on Paula’s face.
Screw her. She knows she’s been trying to take over since she first got here. I would come to dinner more often if she wasn’t here. I used to come all the time.
Rose jumped into her car and reversed, careful not to look at the unhappy couple in the doorway of the backsplit.
Her father had married Paula two years earlier and Rose had been stunned. While the couple had dated for four years prior to getting engaged, Rose had been certain that her father would never consider getting married to another woman.
But she just weaseled her way in there while I was gone away to school. And now she thinks she can replace mom in my eyes too.
Bile filled Rose’s throat, but she quickly swallowed it down.
As she drove down Main Street, her phone began to ring. She answered the call without looking who was calling her, and her car’s Bluetooth connection immediately put the call on speaker.
“Rose Bridgemont,” she said.
“Hey Rose, it’s Julian. Do you have a minute?”
“That depends. Is it good news or bad news?” she demanded.
Julian laughed. “Neither. I have a bunch of witness statements here from the Makanora murder trial and I don’t really know where to start with them.”
“What do you mean?” Rose asked. She was grateful he had called, even if the issue wasn’t pressing. It took her mind off Paula and her father for the time.
“Well, Casey Logan claims that she saw Suki enter the second floor at eleven o’clock, but Jasmin Cortez says she was upstairs ten minutes later with the boys, including Chase, and Suki was not there.”
“Okay, well, witness statements are notoriously unreliable,” she reminded the investigator. “Especially drunk kids.”
Julian cleared his throat. “You call them kids, but they’re the same age as you,” he laughed.
Rose cringed. Why did she see herself as so much older than the bratty
rich kid who had threatened her?
Maybe because I haven’t murdered anyone, she thought, gritting her teeth.
“It’s not just them,” Julian continued. “I have at least three other conflicting statements. We need to run a timeline together, but I’m having a hard time getting started. I was hoping that whatever you talked about with Chase could help us out.”
Rose chewed on her lower lip and turned north on Major Avenue toward her house. “I’m not sure how much help I can be,” she sighed. “The meeting didn’t go very well.” There was a brief silence, and Rose exhaled her breath softly through her nose. “What are you doing right now?” she asked after Julian hadn’t said anything for a while.
“Pouring over this case,” he grunted.
“Can you come over? We’ll go through it together and see if we can make sense of the timeline better.”
“Sure. What’s your address?”
Rose gave it to him.
“I’ll be home in five minutes. Just walk in. Oh, and you know what? Pick up a couple bottles of wine. I need to get the taste of family dinner out of my mouth,” she told him.
“I’ve got a family like that myself,” he joked. “Consider it done. I’ll see you in half an hour.”
They both hung up and Rose shook her head, slightly stepping on the gas to hurry home.
Uh, stupid idea, she thought too late. The house is a mess and Sadie will probably bite him.
Her phone rang again as she pulled onto Ash Street. This time she looked at the screen to see who was calling her, and for a second, she thought of not answering. But things would probably be worse if she didn’t, and so she forced herself to take the call.
“Hi, Dad,” Rose sighed, preparing herself for the lecture that was most likely going to come her way. “What is it?”
“Rosie, you and I have to talk about this,” her father said.
Rose exhaled in annoyance. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she assured him. “I’m just getting home, Dad. I have a co-worker coming to help on the case.”
“I think that’s a big part of the problem, Rose,” Clive told her. “You’re working too much and not doing anything else. I think…”
