Delayed Justice

by Cara C. Putman

  Simba tensed, then struggled free of Jaime’s hold and leapt to the tile. He poked his nose in the air and strutted back toward the couch. Aslan whined but looked at Chandler and didn’t budge even though Jaime knew it must be killing him not to follow the cat. As if to emphasize his freedom, Simba leapt to the couch’s back and stretched his front legs. The stinker was taunting Aslan.

  She pulled her attention back to the man in front of her. “Good morning.”

  “Hey.” The word lazed out of his mouth. Not a drawl, but a caress. “You going to let us in?”

  “Of course.” She fought a losing battle with the heat that crawled up her neck into her cheeks, until the scrutiny of his look had her blushing. “Let me grab a jacket. Help yourself to coffee. I’ve got travel mugs.” Before she could say anything that might make her more flustered, she waved him into the apartment, noting again how the space shrank when he stepped inside. “I’ll be right back.”

  The moment she escaped into her bedroom, she closed the door and leaned against it. The space of palest blue walls and white bedding did little to calm her. Instead, she breathed deeply and tried to force peace into her veins. Once her heart had returned to an almost normal rhythm, she pushed away and hurried to the mirror. Shoot, color heightened her neck and cheeks.

  There was no way he could have missed her reaction to him. She was a mess, but this modern-day hero wanted to spend his off-duty hours with her. In fact, he’d finagled his vacation time to make time for her before the incident at his work created the space for today. The real danger was that the more time she spent with him, the harder she would fall.

  There would be no halfway measures when it came to Chandler Bolton.

  That should terrify her, but instead she was intrigued. Emilie would tell her to relax and enjoy it, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe though . . . maybe he was a man she could will herself to trust.

  “Everything okay in there?”

  She bit back a grin. Busted by his impatience. That had to be a good sign. “I’ll be right out.”

  Jaime grabbed her clutch and a hooded squall coat. While she wasn’t exactly sure what they were doing, the weather looked like it would maintain a decided chill in the air. She added a pair of gloves to the ensemble just in case. Now to convince him she was relaxed and eager to spend time with him, when in truth she felt as tightly strung as a cat in a room of rocking chairs. A scratching at the door warned her time was up, and she opened the door for Simba. He wound around her legs, tail high, a soft rumble coming from him.

  She scooped up the cat and buried her face in his fur. “Keep the place safe while I’m gone, all right?”

  Simba batted her chin with a paw and continued to purr.

  She set him on the blanket at the end of the comforter and slipped her clutch around her wrist.

  Chandler watched as Jaime came out of the bedroom, pulling her heavy dark waves of hair from her coat’s collar. What would it feel like to bury his hands in that thick mane?

  She scooped her keys off the counter and slid them into a pocket. “Did you find the coffee?”

  He shook his head, unable to form words, and she pushed a button on the Keurig. “This is made from beans a friend brought back from the Dominican Republic. It’s got a rich flavor I think you’ll like.”

  When she handed him one of the cups, he bit back a laugh as he read the words scrolling across it. Women who read are dangerous. She glanced at the cup and colored again. He could get used to watching the way her cheeks turned into soft roses. “Sorry. You can have this one instead.” She slid the other mug his way. Too much Monday, not enough coffee.

  “I like them both.”

  “I do too.” She added more than a splash of some fancy creamer to hers and tapped the lid in place. “Let’s go adventure.”

  He let her open the door since he couldn’t figure out where she stood on chivalry. His mom wouldn’t be proud, but Jaime was a riddle he needed to crack. He put a hand at her back as they walked down the hallway to the elevator. She didn’t step away, so he’d call it progress.

  He helped her into his truck, and a comfortable silence fell as he steered through the late morning traffic toward the Mall. Favor was on his side, as he found parking large enough to accommodate the pickup along Constitution Avenue. Soon Aslan was reluctantly clipped to the lead, and they joined tourists strolling the Mall.

  “Where would you like to start?”

  Jaime flipped her hair away from her face. “Could we go to the World War II Memorial? I don’t have to be at Madeline’s until seven tonight.”

  “Absolutely.” There was something sacred about the space, something that called to his soul with the reminder that some battles were worth any sacrifice. The war on terrorism felt so unrelenting and futile sometimes that he needed the reminders that the country had fought other, large wars on multiple fronts and won. We could do it again this time if the country maintained its will, though the unity of World War II couldn’t be easily replicated.

  They walked past the Washington Monument on their way to the Memorial. Aslan stayed close to his side as they waited for traffic to ease before crossing 17th Street and entering the large memorial.

  She stiffened at one point, and he stopped her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I feel like I’m being watched, but that’s crazy.” Her eyes darted around. “Look at all the tourists here.”

  The place had its share for an October morning. He didn’t want to think that someone was keyed into her, that the shadow at Busboys and Poets hadn’t been his vet but someone else. “Where do you see them?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t.” She huffed out a sigh. “I’m imagining things. Maybe Tuesday after the hearing, I’ll be able to laugh at myself. All stressed over nothing important.”

  He didn’t want to tell her she was wrong, but as he scanned the crowd he didn’t see anyone who seemed especially focused on her.

  “Forget I mentioned it.”

  He turned his attention back to her and tipped her chin up with a finger. “Don’t ever apologize for being alert. I want to keep you safe too.”

  She leaned into his touch and nodded. “Thank you.”

  He had to consciously step back and turn to telling her the history of a monument that she probably knew as well as he did. All the while he kept his gaze moving behind his sunglasses. The placement had been controversial when the WWII Memorial was constructed, but Chandler couldn’t imagine it anywhere else than nestled between the Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument. The oval series of fountains in the pool would be winterized soon, but right now they added a peaceful note. Jaime walked down the shallow steps that led into the Memorial and then spun slowly. Her face wore a solemn expression as she walked to a stone bench built into a ramp and sat down.

  He joined her, and Aslan crouched next to her, placing his head in her lap. She absently stroked his head.

  “I never got to ask my great-grandpa what he did at the Pentagon during the war.” There was a trace of sadness in the words.

  “What would you have asked?”

  “What he did. What it was like. Did he wish he got sent to a front?” She turned away so that all he saw was her shadowed profile. “So many questions I’d ask.”

  “We all have those.” The past was a giant void that couldn’t be filled, but he knew she was talking about more than just the questions she wanted to ask about the war.

  “Chandler, how can you work with returning veterans every day?”

  “How can you work with those accused of terrible crimes?”

  “It’s not the same.” Her jaw firmed.

  “It is. You are called to help people navigate the criminal system. I’m called to help people reintegrate to a new normal when they return from combat tours.”

  “Called? That’s a strong term.”

  “It’s the best word. I’ve seen you light up when you talk about what you do. It’s more than a job.”

  She nodded but let the w
ords die as if they reminded her she didn’t have a job. After a few minutes she stood and wandered out of the memorial. They next waited in line at the Washington Monument, followed by a breathtaking view of the city’s monuments from the top. Morning wore into afternoon, and they grabbed tacos from a food truck before heading back down the Mall to where the Lincoln waited at the other end. As twilight fell, he sensed her walls shift. Then he snapped a photo of her sitting on the steps of the Lincoln with her arm around Aslan as twilight painted bright colors across the sky, and he felt something shift inside him as well. She slipped into his heart, and he couldn’t evict her if he wanted.

  CHAPTER 45

  FRIDAY, OCTOBER 19

  The beige walls of the courthouse’s hallway pressed against Jaime as she paced, the adrenaline of what was to come filling her with an energy she couldn’t contain. Madeline should have arrived by now, but she had insisted she could drive Tiffany over without an escort. Jaime had spent an hour Thursday night at their home trying to explain to Tiffany what was coming. Then the conversation with Madeline had gone another hour. Today Jaime needed to guide Tiffany through the hearing and help her voice be heard.

  The last week felt like it had been unending with a race from one pressure-filled scenario to the next. The first leg of that race culminated here with Tiffany’s hearing, then it was on to her testimony at the Senate.

  “Miss Jaime?” Tiffany’s high voice pulled Jaime from her thoughts. She turned to find the girl waiting, wearing a sweet T-shirt and skirt over leggings. The ensemble only emphasized the innocence she should have to go with her youth.

  “Hey, sweetie. Are you ready to talk to the judge?”

  The little girl’s upper teeth clamped down on her lower lip, and she shrugged.

  Jaime looked at Madeline. “As Savannah and I explained yesterday, first I’ll talk to the judge and explain why Tiffany needs Aslan with her. You two will wait in a room off the court while we have that conversation. I’ve asked the bailiff to have a TV and movie in there to distract her. After the judge decides, we’ll proceed to her competency hearing and then to the grand jury testimony.”

  “That’s a lot.”

  “It is, but Savannah and I will walk through each step with you.”

  “And if he won’t allow Aslan?”

  “Let’s worry about that after we know his ruling.” She forced a smile. “Let’s get you through security.”

  Jaime guided the pair through the security process and then led them upstairs to where Savannah already waited. Savannah leaned down to talk to Tiffany and then led the girl and her mother around the courtroom, explaining who would sit in what chair.

  “This chair”—she patted the witness box—“is where you’ll sit, Tiffany.” After she was sure the girl had no questions, Savannah led them to the anteroom. A minute later she returned. “Ready to get that dog into the court?”

  Jaime nodded as she felt the weight of responsibility. She’d watched the video of the investigative interview. Tiffany had refused to talk until Aslan came in. The girl needed the support of the comfort animal. “There’s a lot riding on him.”

  “Yes, and on us, but I know you’re ready.”

  Jaime wished she felt as certain. After her time with Tiffany and Madeline, she’d spent the balance of the evening reviewing the law and formulating her arguments. Then she’d made them to the mirror until it felt natural and routine. “Let’s get started.”

  The air in the courtroom felt heavy, somber, laced with all that is evil. Jaime had sat in courtrooms like this one so many times she’d lost track of when and where. But never had she felt the oppression quite like this.

  This time it was an unknown, amorphous mass. She wanted to shield Tiffany from it, but the case could not proceed without the girl’s testimony. The physical evidence tying Corey Bowman to the criminal abuse Tiffany had suffered was minimal.

  As soon as the Commonwealth’s Attorney, defense counsel, and defendant were in the courtroom, the judge entered. Judge William Thacker was something of an institution, having served on the bench for more than twenty years. He tended to be pro-victim but ultimately fair. His reading glasses would slide from his nose up into his white hair depending on whether he was reading or listening. With him on the bench, Tiffany would at least get a fair hearing.

  Jaime wished in this case that the defendant wouldn’t have a voice in this part of the process, but she knew it was necessary. While he wouldn’t be allowed to participate in the grand jury hearing, he could be part of the process to determine whether Tiffany was competent to testify. Once they were all settled, the judge entered the courtroom.

  Judge Winters peered at Savannah over the rim of his glasses. “Help me understand your role here today.”

  “The child’s mother has hired us to help her navigate this process. Part of that includes making sure her testimony is minimally harmful to the child. We’ve filed a motion requesting a comfort animal to be with the child through today’s proceeding and any in the future.”

  The judge turned to the Commonwealth’s Attorney, Lacy Collins. Jaime was surprised the woman had shown up for such a foundational matter, but maybe she wanted to make a point with the judge about the importance of the case. “Ms. Collins, are you okay with their representing the child?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” The middle-aged woman ran her hands along her navy pencil skirt and then straightened her tweed jacket. “As is so often the case in matters like this, the bulk of this matter relies on the victim’s testimony. We agree that the comfort animal is necessary for today’s proceedings.”

  “Thank you.” The judge turned to the public defender, and Jaime tried not to stare at her former boss. “Mr. Joshua? What is the public defender’s position?”

  “We are unconvinced that such a concession is necessary.”

  “So you oppose the motion?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The judge pinched the bridge of his nose, then turned to Savannah. “Then we must proceed. Please make your argument.”

  “Sir, my associate Jaime Nichols will present the argument.”

  Jaime felt her cheeks flare as Grant turned to her.

  “Associate, huh?”

  She didn’t want to tell him it was the first she’d heard of it, so she let it go. The judge nodded to her. “Miss Nichols, please keep your remarks to less than ten minutes. Five would be better, since I’ve read your memo.”

  “Thank you.” Jaime eased to her feet without a clear place at the table other than the need to protect a little girl who had experienced too much. “May it please the court.” She took a breath, glanced at her notes, and then returned her gaze to the judge. “For centuries we have known that pets have a calming effect on people. Study after study, a few of which I included in the memo, document this. Few places are more stressful for people than court, especially when they are called upon to testify. The child witness in this case has been the victim of molesting. She needs the support provided by a trained comfort dog to help tell her story to this court.”

  Jaime looked down at her notes but didn’t really see them. “Your Honor, this would not be the first court in Virginia to allow such a use of a dog. In Stafford a black Labrador retriever has served as a comfort dog for years, helping calm victims and witnesses. These animals are also allowed in other courts.” She quickly summarized a few of the courts and how the dogs’ presence had been demonstrated to help children. “Because comfort dogs have already been allowed in Virginia courts, we ask that you allow one to assist the child who will testify today so that she will have a voice to share her story. Thank you.”

  After she sat, Savannah squeezed her hand. “Nice work.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Grant launched to his feet the moment the judge looked at him. “Your Honor, this is ridiculous. This dog does not qualify as a service animal, and the child does not qualify as disabled. As such, the animal should not be allowed. Either the girl can answer or she can’t.”
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  The judge tapped the edge of his pencil against his lips as he looked over their heads. “Because of the age of the child, I’m going to allow it. Your objection has been recorded, Mr. Joshua.” He turned to Savannah. “How long will you need to get the dog here?”

  Savannah glanced at Jaime who could only shrug. Chandler was supposed to be close, but she wasn’t certain. “Twenty minutes should be sufficient.”

  “All right. Then we will reconvene in thirty minutes after my next hearing.”

  The attorneys stood as a unit and made their way into the hallway, where Jaime broke off and called Chandler. “We’re ready for Aslan.”

  Chandler sounded a little out of breath. “I just found parking. Probably should have walked from the office.”

  “It’s too cold for that.” Jaime sighed. “Good luck getting Aslan through security.”

  “He’s got his tag. Hopefully security here will accept it.” Chandler grunted, and Jaime could imagine Aslan was tugging him toward a tree or door. “We’ll be there as soon as we can. Which floor?”

  Jaime told him, and when she turned around found herself nose to nose with Grant.

  “What are you doing?” His words hissed into the narrow space between them.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you understand the hornets’ nest you’ve kicked over?”

  She frowned at him and thrust her hands on her hips. “What is this? Twenty questions?”

  “I’m trying to warn you.” He glanced around as if checking for anyone too close. Then he abruptly took a step back. “Be careful.”

  Jaime watched him stalk off, confused about what had just happened. Savannah found her there a minute later.

  “Are you ready to tell our clients the good news?”

  “Ummm. Right.” Jaime shook her head as Savannah watched her closely.

  “You all right?”

  “I think Grant just warned me that Dane is getting anxious.”

  “You think or you know?”

  “I’m not sure. It was a surreal conversation.”