by John Foxjohn
She closed her eyes. She should forgive him, but he’d hurt her just like her ex. She’d let him get close and she hadn’t done that for any man since her divorce.
Kayla didn’t say anything and strained silence ensued. Finally, she took a deep breath. “I need to leave. The doctor said just a minute. Listen, I know you were just doing what McMasters paid you to do, but I still want to thank you for saving my life.”
She hurried out before he could say anything.
THIRTY-THREE
Most DAs in Proctor’s situation would have made a motion to dismiss the charges against Loren Estes. But Proctor did not fall into the category of most. Even now, he knew, like everyone else, that Loren Estes did not kill Michelle McCrery.
The only way she’d ever know why the idiot didn’t drop the charges was ask him, and she’d need to care a little about him to do that. She guessed she’d never find out. Was he so spoiled with success that he believed he could somehow pull it out at the last?
Proctor put everyone in the courtroom asleep with a long drawn-out closing. Kayla took mercy on the jury with a short one.
Before she rose to speak, for the first time since the trial began, Lawrence Estes showed up and lounged behind his daughter.
When the jury announced the not guilty verdict, he jumped up and hugged Loren, telling her how happy he was.
Kayla slouched in the empty courtroom for a long time after everyone left. Her only company, Lester and Marvin, and both cared enough not to speak. With the two men on either side of her, she trudged out of the courtroom to the festive atmosphere in the hallway. Celebration was the last thing on her mind. She’d won a case, toppled a giant, but lost her best friend, the person who had helped her most to cope with all life had thrown on her. She’d also lost the man she loved.
Although he had apologized and she believed him, she didn’t know if she could trust him. Would he run out on her if she needed him again?
Lawrence Estes and his daughter rushed up. “Ms. Nugent,” he said. “I want to tell you in person that I was wrong about you. My baby knew all along what she was doing.”
He shoved his hand forward to shake. “If there’s anything you need—want—all you have to do is ask.”
By instinct, she shook his hand and wished she hadn’t. “There’s something both of you can do for me. Both of you can remove yourselves from my life.”
With Marvin and Lester flanking her, she stepped out of the building to the waiting media. In answer to a question, she said, “The district attorney never should’ve brought this case to trial. Our judicial system should always be about justice. When people begin to use the system for personal benefit, it leaves society with tattered justice.”
“This will be the last question.” She pointed to a female reporter.
“Ms. Nugent, what do you plan to do now?”
“I have officially tendered my resignation with my law firm. I intend to open my own office. This trial has made me realize that prosecutions of people take place for reasons other than that they committed a crime.
“However, there are people who get lost in our judicial system for the simple reason that they can’t afford to hire people like me. I fully believe that justice should not depend on how much money a person has or doesn’t have. I can do something about the ones who are innocent of charges but can’t afford to hire an attorney.”
When they left the court to drive to the office, Kayla asked Marvin and Lester if they would come with her. Sarah Jane had already agreed. Lester agreed right away, but Marvin needed to talk it over with his family, and Kayla understood. She wished she had someone she could talk it over with.
As she cleaned out her office, someone knocked and she turned to find McMasters in her door. He indicated a chair. “Mind if we talk for a minute?”
Kayla sat behind a desk that no longer belonged to her as he settled into a chair across from her. His lost puppy dog expression made her heart sink.
“Kayla, I really don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to lose you. I heard your interview and I agree with you, and we can create a department here just like you described with you heading it.”
She rose and circled around the desk, sat beside him, and held his hand. “I’m leaving the firm. I have to. Please understand. I can’t walk in someone else’s shadow—do what someone else expects me to. I need to do this myself.”
She squeezed his trembling hand. “As far as losing me, just because I leave the firm doesn’t mean you have lost me.”
She didn’t know if she could ever think of him as her father but saw no reason not to keep in touch. He created a part of her, loved her mother, and she wanted to know more about her. More than anything, she needed to understand her, and yes, she had to admit, wanted to know more about her real father.
When he asked her about how she and Darren got along, she told him what had happened. He hugged her, and she needed it—had needed it for a long time.
She asked herself what her father would say and do, but then thought, she needed to ask herself what she should do. She had her own life to live.
* * * *
With the trial over and her resignation from the law firm, Kayla kicked around a problem in her mind with the investigation and trial of Loren Estes. A problem had cropped up, and she didn’t know how or what to do about it, or even if she should do anything.
Some of the papers after her mini-interview had labeled her a bleeding heart liberal. She didn’t believe that classification fit her. If they thought that because she didn’t believe the judicial system should bring innocent people to trial to benefit someone’s political ambitions, so be it.
She had not come into this world to fight all of society’s battles, become the savior of the judicial system. Information that she alone possessed kept her awake, tormented her, and if she didn’t act on it, she’d never get on with her life.
She didn’t want to do anything with the information just as she hadn’t wanted to defend Loren Estes or call Jimmy to the stand. But, as a human being in a world that would never be perfect, she alone could rectify a wrong. She had no choice.
* * * *
When Kayla entered Proctor’s office, his secretary glared. “Mr. Proctor is busy and you need to make an appointment.”
Kayla shook her head. “Sorry, not this time.”
She marched past the startled secretary, opened the door, and closed it behind her. Proctor glanced up and his face hardened. Pure hatred boiled close to the surface as Kayla settled across from him.
“Why don’t you just barge into my office and have a seat, Ms. Nugent.”
His eyes devoured her legs as she adjusted her skirt and leaned back, crossing her arms. A letch never changed. “We need to have a little discussion.”
“I have nothing to say to you. I’d prefer you leave my office this minute or I’ll have you removed.”
She smiled. “Please do. I’ll leave here and have a press conference. I think you’ll have a real interest in what I have to say to the media.”
The fact that he didn’t reach for the phone didn’t surprise her. He had to know what she knew before throwing her out.
“Say what you have to say then get out.”
She leaned forward as his gaze again strayed over her. “When a man allows the brain in his pants to do all his thinking, there comes a time when that brain gets him in real trouble. I don’t think you need to run for any more political offices—including the one you hold now.”
He put his feet up on his desk and smiled at her. “I’ll be the next attorney general of this state. That’s a foregone conclusion and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I am afraid there is. I can’t stop you from running, but I can do something about whether you win or not. If you force me, I will.”
He waved a hand at her. “Get out of here. You’re wasting my time.”
“I want to point a few things out to you before you make your decision,” Kayla said. “I know Jim
my better than anyone does. There’s no doubt he killed Michelle McCrery, but I also happen to know that Jimmy has never in his life owned a rifle or fired one. The police have assured me that the person who took that shot at me did so with a rifle. They recovered the bullet, and at this moment, they are looking for the gun that matches that bullet.”
She leaned forward and pointed at him. “How much would you like to bet that my investigator not only can find that rifle, but can trace it back to you? You see, it is easier when an investigator knows where to start.
“When I began preparing for the trial, some things about it bothered me. First, you tried three times to have me removed from it. Twice in public, and once in private that I just found out about.
“For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. Even after I discovered Jimmy had killed Michelle, I still wondered why you didn’t want me representing Loren.”
She adjusted herself in her chair, aware to keep her clothing down. She paused for several moments to let the tension build and at this moment, she believed the man had to simmer inside.
His phone rang and he reached for it, but his hand stopped as if he needed to think about answering it. He withdrew his hand and leaned back.
His expression changed in an instant. Before, he had a fearful one, but now, the attorney in him kicked in, the prosecutor, and he believed that Kayla only possessed supposition. He could deny it as one person’s word against his.
He stood and leaned on his desk toward her. “You mention that to anyone and I’ll sue you for everything you have or will ever have. Now, get out.”
“Oh, I’m not through. I have yet to mention that I have evidence of why you didn’t want me defending Loren.”
“You know nothing and can prove nothing. All you have is your own twisted beliefs.”
Kayla chuckled and rose. “People only believe in immaculate conception when God is involved. No one would ever call you a god. There can only be one way that Michelle McCrery carried your child.”
She leaned forward and pointed at his face. “That isn’t a guess—a fact. I have the DNA evidence. You were the father of that baby. Jimmy did you a huge favor because it would kill your career if this came out. You had to blame someone and convict someone of this in a hurry.
“You run for those offices we mentioned before, and the public can decide if you’re morally qualified to hold them.”
When she sauntered out of his office, he’d slumped in his chair, ashen-faced and trembling.
* * * *
Several days had passed since Jimmy shot Darren. He hated hospitals and they kept him longer than he had expected.
Kayla had come to see him a couple of times but hadn’t stayed long either time. He’d apologized the night they brought him to the hospital and the next time she showed up. He understood she didn’t trust him, and that left him only one recourse. He’d stay around and keep trying until she did.
When the hospital did release him, he went to his hotel room and changed. He fully intended to call Kayla later and see if they could have a long talk, but first, he needed to see someone.
* * * *
A pain radiated between McMaster’s eyes. He massaged his temples but it didn’t do any good. Eyes closed, he leaned forward in his chair and groped for the drawer that held his cigars. When he found one, he straightened, clipped the end, and lit it.
He groaned, leaning back. He’d left Kayla packing the last of her stuff and tried to talk her out of leaving again. Stubborn woman was just like him. She’d be great at what she wanted to do. Heck, she’d be great at anything she decided to do. More than anything, he wanted her near him. Away, he didn’t think he’d ever have a chance to be a part of her life.
Leaning back, he closed his eyes, puffing on the cigar. Someway, somehow, he needed to be in her life.
He jerked up when his door opened. When Darren Duval sat across from him, he dropped his gaze, staring at the floor. “I was wondering if I’d see you again. Glad to see you aren’t stupid enough to run away from my daughter.” He held his hand up. “I was wrong in doing what I did. I should not have had that little conversation with you. I’m new to this father business and didn’t know how to react. I apologize because I acted wrong.”
Darren didn’t say anything for a long moment. He nodded, “It does mean something to me. I care a lot about Kayla. I don’t know if it is love, it’ll last, or even if she’ll have me or talk to me. But I intend to find out whether you like it or not.”
He stabbed his cigar out, stared at Darren for a long moment, and then rose. “I know I have no right to ask you any favors, but I’d like to ask one right now.”
Darren’s brows wrinkled. “What favor?”
“Wait here for a few minutes. Let me take care of something, then let me take you to supper tonight.”
Darren stared at him for a long moment. “Actually, I shouldn’t—but okay, I’ll wait.”
Time dragged by like a turtle race. He glanced at his watch for the hundredth time. McMasters obviously had no concept of a few minutes. He slumped and rubbed his eyes. When the door opened he snapped his head up. He froze, then leaped from his seat, turning the chair over.
Kayla edged into the room further, but far away. “McMasters told me what he did.”
Darren shifted from foot to foot, then perched on the edge of the desk. His heart hammered. If she was here, maybe he had a chance. He nodded, “But that isn’t an excuse. There’s no excuse. I was wrong.”
She stepped closer. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Why?”
He hung his head. “I guess I was afraid of getting hurt.”
“I’ve been hurt, too. I have the same fears.”
Darren stepped closer to her. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“God, I hope so.”
He and Kayla embraced in the middle of the floor.
When they came up for air, McMasters poked his head back in the door. “Forget tonight. Let’s make it tomorrow night.”
ABOUT AUTHOR JOHN FOXJOHN
Best-selling author John Foxjohn epitomizes the phrase “been there—done that.” Whether consciously or unconsciously, maybe one of the first authors he followed contributed to this.
Many years ago, John became afflicted with a disease he calls “readaholism.” His addiction to reading led him to Louis L’Amour, and even today, he continues to reread books by this author.
Louis L’Amour had a diverse background before he began to write and John followed that path—born and raised in the rural East Texas town of Nacogdoches, he quit high school and joined the Army at seventeen. Viet Nam veteran, Army Airborne Ranger, policeman and homicide detective, retired teacher and coach, and now he is a multi-published author.
Although John writes an entirely different genre than Louis L’Amour, he followed the author’s path by using his diverse background and meticulous research. Although John’s novels are fictional, many readers believe they are true stories.
Like his favorite author, John creates characters that readers love and root for—not cardboard cutouts. John says, “Normal people have faults and strengths—they make mistakes and need to overcome them and other obstacles thrown in their path. People judge others by how they handle adversity. That’s how I attempt to create characters.”
If you have read John’s novels, you know that he is successful.
John is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Romance Writers of America, Elements of Romance, Kiss of Death, Lethal Ladies, Sisters-in-Crime, East Texas Writers Guild, League of Texas Writers, and more online writing groups than he can count. He is a full time writer and speaker and lives in Lufkin, Texas, but travels extensively across the U.S.
Don’t miss these other amazing books by John Foxjohn!
Cold Tears
ISBN 978-1-60318-012-2
A Dangerous Job—A Deadly Mistake.
And a Ruthless Killer on the Loose.
Will David be able to save his reputation, his sanity, and Beth, the
love of his life, before time runs out?
A veteran Houston homicide detective’s unfortunate mistake causes a woman’s death. When a woman shoots David Mason he returns fire, killing her, but he can’t escape her accusing eyes.
Beth Porter, David’s fiancée, already feared his dangerous job, and when he’s wounded the fear escalates and she separates from him. His mistake that threatens his career now endangers the relationship with the love of his life.
With the help of Melissa, a beautiful FBI agent, David must stop a ruthless killer preying on women. As he struggles to track down the killer and get Beth back, he must cope with a mutual attraction to his female partner.
When the investigation gets too close the killer abducts another woman. He gives David forty-eight hours to find her or she dies. With little evidence and no suspects, David’s only hope is for the killer to make a mistake.
Now he has… He abducted Beth.
Color of Murder
ISBN 978-1-60318-042-9
Murder Can Srike In Many Colors.
When an Angelina County deputy videotapes his own murder, David Mason has to track down the killers. Leading an inexper-ienced FBI team with Melissa Adams as his second in command, David must overcome his own guilt over the murder.
An East Texas Sheriff and his deputies, a Texas Ranger, and strife inside his own team all stand in David’s way. As suspects and witnesses die, David believes he has an agent leaking information. He had put his career and reputation on the line to get Melissa on his team. Would she betray his friendship and trust?
His investigative path brings him to a startling conclusion and a suspect that threatens to tear apart David’s moral fiber.
Journey of the Spirit
ISBN 978-1-60318-004-7
Native American legend—An Epic Struggle
The journey of a white boy into a foreign land.
The land of the Lakota.
