Guilty

by Karen Fenech

  “Miss Winston.” He smiled, lowering his gaze then lifting it again.

  Faith reached his bed. “How are you feeling?”

  He shrugged, wincing at the movement. “I’m all right. Just never you mind worrying about me. I remember you being here with me when I woke up after surgery but I didn’t know if you were hurt. I asked about you but no one would tell me nothin’. Truth be told, they don’t say nothin’ to me at all. Just look right through me like I’m invisible. Like I’m nothin’.” His eyes and his voice lowered. “I guess I can’t expect nothin’ more.”

  Faith was surprised by his long speech. Prior to this, he hadn’t been overly talkative with her, only speaking when spoken to. “As long as your medical needs are being taken care of, that’s what you need to focus on,” she said gently.

  He looked up. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

  Faith kept her tone soft. “I’m not hurt.”

  Gaines ducked his head. “I’m relieved you’re okay. I heard them nurses talking. They’re blaming you for taking my case. You’ve taken up my fight, and that put you in danger yesterday and that might not be the last of it.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Gaines coughed and winced. He held his body tight, making himself into as tight a ball as he could. Faith could see he was trying to hold himself steady to minimize the pain. He reached out and his fingers brushed a cup with a straw on the nightstand. It was close to the bed but out of his reach. Faith took the cup and held the straw to his lips.

  He sipped eagerly then shook his head when he’d had enough. His gaze lifted and his eyes widened on her. “My very own angel of mercy.”

  She wasn’t anyone’s angel and she didn’t think Gaines believed her to be that either. He seemed to be laying it on too thick and his flattery and praise sounded insincere. Was he flattering her because of what he’d endured from people? Did he think he needed to endear himself to her for her to continue to represent him, or more accurately since she was court appointed, to represent him competently? Was he putting on a show to keep her fighting for him to the best of her ability? If so, if he felt he needed to go to such extremes, it struck a familiar chord that made her feel sick inside, sick and sad.

  People didn’t want to know about the James Gaines’s of the world. The homeless, the drifters, the odd, square pegs that didn’t fit into society’s round holes. People wanted those like Gaines to keep moving to the next city or town, anywhere as long as it was away.

  Wade’s citizens had felt the same about her father. Faith recalled times when he’d been between jobs and fallen behind on the house rent, more so after her mother’s death and the medical bills had mounted. They’d been evicted from the house many times while she was growing up and lived in her father’s old car, or when there was room, at Wade’s shelter.

  The owner’s attempts to sell the old rundown place or to find new tenants had never been successful and because Jackson Winston had always, eventually, paid his back rent, they were allowed to return when Jackson found new employment. But no one ever saw the goodness in her father or the honor in him that had kept him from turning his back on his creditors. Walking down the street, Wade’s people had looked the other way as if he hadn’t existed.

  James’s hand had covered Faith’s to steady the cup. His skin was cold and dry as wax. She could see each fine line in the pale flesh, and the bruises left from injections and from the IV needle.

  James hesitated, lingering, then lowered his hand from hers. She could understand his reluctance to end contact, Faith thought as she returned the cup to the nightstand. She remembered visiting her father behind the glass barrier at the prison, not being allowed to touch him. Her father had been an affectionate and demonstrative man and he’d missed not being able to embrace his only child. It had hurt Faith just as deeply. As her father had, she could well imagine that James craved human contact. It stirred her compassion and her sympathy. She was his attorney and not his family but she was all he had. She held his hand a little longer.

  “Did they get the man who shot me?” James’s voice quavered with fear. “It was Mr. Fahey who did it, wasn’t it? I met him once when I was late finishing up some work for Mrs. Fahey. I saw Mr. Fahey right before I got hit.”

  “Yes. He’s been apprehended.”

  James nodded but it was clear to Faith that he had something else on his mind.

  His voice low he said, “I can see why he’d want to hurt, want to kill, a man who’d beat his wife to death.”

  “A hearing is set for this morning to decide bail for Mr. Fahey. I’m going to be present. I’m going to raise the argument that bail should not be granted, that he remain in custody while you’re recovering.”

  His face beamed. “You are so good to me. I’m so lucky. Thank you.”

  Again she felt a wave of compassion at his obvious deference, at his feelings of not being worthy. “You have nothing to thank me for. You have a constitutional right to legal counsel. That counsel should be committed to representing you to the best of their ability, and to the fullest extent of the law.” She heard the vehemence in her own voice as the old anger bubbled to the surface. She drew a deep breath and eased her tone. “Now, I need to get going.”

  “Will you come back?”

  “Yes. I’ll stop by later today with the outcome.” Though Faith had no doubt how this proceeding would go. “In the meantime, get some rest.”

  His brows drew together, puckering the skin on his forehead. “I won’t be able to rest. Mr. Fahey might not be the only one out to get me and if someone bursts in here, I’m not exactly able to help myself, shot up like I am.”

  “There are two officers right outside your door. They won’t let anyone in who isn’t authorized.”

  James didn’t respond. Faith didn’t believe she’d reassured him. She didn’t think he believed that law enforcement and the system could work for him rather than against him.

  But Faith trusted Ryan. What had happened at the courthouse had not been Ryan’s fault and she trusted his measures to protect Gaines. Recalling how Ryan had put himself between Fahey and herself and Gaines had her heart pounding. If Fahey had managed to get off another shot, Ryan would have been directly in the line of fire. She closed her eyes at the horrific image her mind conjured up of Ryan lying on the courtroom floor in a pool of his own blood.

  “Even someone who’s authorized could be out to hurt me.”

  Faith opened her eyes at the sound of James’s voice.

  He jutted out his chin. His expression became petulant, defiant. “No one’s gonna care if I die. The only one I can trust is me.” Then as quickly, his features eased again. “Me, and now there’s you. I been lucky here in Wade. I had me two angels.” Gaines’s voice filled with excitement, and as if unable to contain it, he giggled. “Mrs. Fahey and now you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The only way Faith had been able to keep Dee from storming the hospital yesterday after the shooting in the courtroom and Faith’s proximity to it, was to promise to stop by the flower shop today so Dee could see for herself that Faith was unhurt.

  Faith left the courthouse at eleven, where she’d successfully prevented Timothy Fahey from receiving bail. The media was still out there, no doubt salivating over this latest development with the case, but again Faith declined comment. As she’d told Irwin, she would say what needed to be said in the courtroom. Her continued silence with the media must have deemed her no longer worth following and she was glad to leave the news people behind.

  A short while later, Faith pulled around to the back of the small building that housed Dee’s flower shop. Inside the shop, Dee was cutting the stems off a bunch of yellow roses. The blinds on the windows were up but the day was overcast and all the lights were on inside. The store smelled of the strong rich coffee Dee favored mixed with the fragrance of the flowers.

  Dee rushed around the counter and enveloped Faith in a bone-crushing hug. “You have to stop doing this to me. I�
��m worrying myself into old age.” Dee drew back and her dark eyes swept up and down Faith. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  With a final squeeze, Dee released Faith and, ample hips swaying, went to the coffee maker. She filled a mug, added sugar and the cream Faith liked then handed the mug to Faith.

  “Those asshole newspaper people follow you here today?” Dee made a noise that sounded like a growl and jerked her chin to the window.

  Faith took a sip of the coffee and shook her head.

  “Good,” Dee said. “It’s about time they left you alone and moved on to the next flavor of the week. Maybe what’s going on in Hollywood, huh?”

  Faith laughed.

  “I have an order to get ready. Let’s talk while I put it together.”

  Faith glanced at her watch. She could make this her lunch hour and help Dee with the order. Faith set her mug down on the counter. She’d helped out in the flower shop countless times over the years and took one of Dee’s aprons that was folded neatly beneath the counter.

  The order consisted of a few floral arrangements that were a standing weekly order for a local bed and breakfast. With both Faith and Dee working, they soon had the order nearly completed. The bell above the door jingled. The door opened bringing the sting of cool air and Hector. Hector’s service station was on the same street as the flower shop. Faith hadn’t heard a vehicle drive up. He’d obviously walked. His skin had gone ruddy from the cold, though the walk was short.

  Hector carried a large insulated bag that kept food warm. While Faith hadn’t told Dee what time she would stop by, it was clear the bag held enough to feed all three of them. Dee always made enough food to feed an army.

  “Right on time,” Dee said and gave Hector a smacking kiss on the lips.

  Hector smiled and said in his usual soft tone, “You want me to keep this warm for you ladies a little longer?”

  “Almost done,” Dee said. “Go ahead and set up.”

  While Faith finished with the final arrangement, Hector laid out their meal on the round table by the window where Dee stacked books with photos of flower arrangements for patrons to peruse. The aromas of pasta in rich meat sauce and slices of thick, warm bread filled the air. Faith hadn’t had more than a quick coffee for breakfast and a second cup with Dee while they’d arranged the flowers and her mouth watered.

  Not long after, Faith said, “All done with this last one. I’ll start loading the van.”

  Dee came out from the restroom, drying her hands on a thick white towel. She brushed flower petals from her apron. “It can wait. Let’s eat.”

  Dee snagged a heel of bread that Hector was buttering. The shop phone rang. She grabbed the old black receiver and said around the mouthful of bread, “Delgado’s.”

  Dee’s face paled and Faith stopped on her way to wash her own hands.

  “Is he all right?” There was a tremor in Dee’s voice as she spoke. Hector had abandoned their lunch preparations and went to his wife. She reached out and caught Hector’s hand in her own. “We’re on our way.” Dee replaced the receiver.

  “What is it, querida?” Hector asked.

  Dee’s normally unflappable composure had slipped. Her eyes were too bright in her now pale face. “Tommy was in a fight at school. That was the principal calling. Says Tommy took on two other boys.”

  Hector frowned. “That is not like him.”

  “Tommy might be suspended. Hector, we need to go over there. A suspension from school could affect Tommy’s chances at getting a scholarship.”

  Faith shared Dee’s concern. Sixteen-year-old Tommy was a straight A student on his way to earning full academic funding.

  Dee, flushed now and flustered, dashed to the door. “Oh, the delivery!”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Faith said quickly. “You and Hector take the van. Go do what you need to do. I’ll take the flowers to the B&B. Leave the keys so I can lock up here when I go.”

  Dee swallowed then nodded. She pressed the shop keys into Faith’s palm. An instant later, Dee and Hector were gone.

  Faith finished loading the flowers into her vehicle. Her compact car wasn’t suited to accommodate the large arrangements, but she did well enough. When she was done, she locked up the shop and set out to make the delivery.

  Not long after, she turned into the driveway for the B&B. It wasn’t her first time making deliveries for Dee, and Faith pulled around back to the door designated for trades people.

  The back door was open. The B&B was owned by a husband and wife and the husband stood on the pavement, clipboard in hand, checking off items stacked on a skid. He was a tall man with a stork-like build but with ham-sized hands. Only the nib of the pen he held was visible.

  “Hi, Chet,” Faith called out as she left her vehicle. “I have your delivery.”

  Chet stiffened. “Where’s Dee?”

  “Something came up and she couldn’t make the delivery today. Don’t worry though. They’re all here.” Faith patted her upper arms against the cold.

  Chet’s mouth tensed. “I don’t want them.”

  Faith stilled her hands. “Pardon?”

  “I don’t want them.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Let me be clearer, then. I don’t want them from you.”

  “They aren’t from me. They’re from Dee It’s her shop that fills your order.”

  “Not as long as you’re working for her.”

  “You know that I don’t work for her. I’m merely delivering your order—”

  “Don’t think I don’t recall what went down with your father.” Chet’s lips curled. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’re defending killers like your father was. Poor little rich girl, thinking all your money can wash away your sins. Well not here. Not with me.”

  Faith’s face heated with anger. “If you do recall ‘what went down’ then you know my father maintained that he was innocent.”

  “Yeah, I heard that. Prisons are filled with people who didn’t commit any crimes.” Chet sneered. “I saw your uncle on TV the other day. With all the money you Winstons have, I would figure you’d have set up some patsy to take the blame for your father.” Chet pointed at Faith. “Take yourself back to Boston where your people come from. We don’t want the daughter of a killer here, working to get off more killers. You tell Dee if she wants to keep my business, to get rid of you. She’s either with the people of Wade or against us. And remind her that I’m on Wade’s Chamber of Commerce. There are other flower shops in Wade. And service stations. A word from me and it won’t only be my business they’ll lose.”

  Faith gave Chet a cutting look. “Are you threatening the Delgados?”

  He gave Faith an up and down look as if she were something to be scraped from the bottom of his shoe. “It’s not me threatening them.”

  Chet went into the B&B, slamming the door behind him.

  * * *

  Faith’s body had gone from hot to cold to hot again as she dealt with her anger on the drive away from the B&B. She was angry for Dee who didn’t deserve Chet’s animosity, and for her father who had not been able to prove his innocence.

  Chet’s words about the Winstons setting someone up to take the fall for the crime her father had been convicted of was perverse and disgusting. It also made her sad. Her father had not had anyone to mount his defense and no money to hire a defense attorney.

  After her appeal to the Winstons failed, Faith had attempted to interest high-powered attorneys in the case, hoping one would represent her father pro-bono. The murder of a woman in a little-known county wasn’t one that would make headlines, but the fact that her accused murderer was a Winston surely would.

  But Faith had underestimated the reach of the Winstons. The family hadn’t wanted the kind of headlines a murder trial would generate and had made sure that she would not obtain the representation she needed. They’d wanted the trial over and done quickly without causing a ripple. Her father’s publi
c defender had done little, making it easy for District Attorney Irwin to win a guilty verdict without breaking a sweat. The Winstons had gotten what they’d wanted.

  Faith’s hands tightened on the steering wheel but she brought herself back to the moment. Chet had threatened Dee’s business.

  Faith returned the flowers to Dee’s shop, putting them in the refrigerator. She needed to let Dee know what had happened with Chet. And she wanted to find out about Tommy.

  Enough time had passed that Dee may have finished meeting with the principal at Tommy’s school. Faith drove to Dee’s. The shop van was parked in Dee’s driveway. Faith parked behind it. Dee’s raised voice penetrated the closed front door. Faith raised her hand to knock, but didn’t think anyone inside would hear. She was about to use the key Dee had given her when the front door swung open. Faith jumped back, off the front stoop and onto the walkway, just in time to avoid being mowed down by a fast-moving Tommy.

  “Don’t you walk away from me!” Dee shouted from somewhere inside, her voice getting louder. Her quick footsteps thudded against the worn tile floor as she obviously was coming after Tommy.

  Tommy drew back quickly, his body swaying back, his athletic shoes skidding to a halt, to avoid ramming Faith. Tommy was a tall, lanky boy with a shaggy mop of hair that fell half way to his shoulders. He had a face that was already breaking young girls’ hearts, much to Dee’s concern, though at the moment, that face was sporting a bruise on his eye that was sure to become one hell of a shiner.

  “Faith. Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “No harm. You okay?”

  Tommy’s split lips flattened. “Fine.”

  Faith felt the belligerence coming off of him. It was completely unlike him.

  “Tomas!” Dee shouted from inside the house.

  He glanced back over his shoulder just as Dee appeared in the hall. Without another word, Tommy brushed by Faith and strode out to the street.