When his arms came around her, she let the tension slip from her shoulders and for a moment, for a moment it was enough just to stand here and let him support her…just for this moment and nothing more.
CHAPTER 13
Peyton slipped into the seat behind Devan, surprised to find Abe already sitting there. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, watching as the clerk swore O’Shannahan in.
“I wanted to see the clown at the circus.”
“How did you know he was going to testify?”
“I called Angel’D to see how he was after the excitement yesterday and asked to talk to you. He said you were on your way down here to the trial, so here I am.”
Peyton frowned at him, taking in his orange silk shirt and brown pin-striped slacks with a pair of brown loafers. She had no idea where the hell he got his clothes, but they were always something to behold.
“So, how are you?” he asked.
“What?”
“After yesterday? How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.” She faced forward, concentrating on O’Shannahan. He had his blond hair perfectly combed back from his strong features. He wore a black suit with a navy blue shirt and a black and white striped tie. He certainly didn’t seem to be any worse for the length of this trial.
“How close did he come?”
Peyton glanced at Abe. “What?”
“My Angel, to getting shot.”
Peyton looked away again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Too close then.”
Peyton ignored him.
“Your witness, Ms. Brown,” said the judge.
Elizabeth Brown rose to her feet. She made a striking figure today in her navy skirt and white blouse. This one seemed tailored to fit her and didn’t hang off her slender frame. She wore a pair of earrings which helped to soften her angular features.
“Reverend O’Shannahan, let me start by acknowledging for the jury that you’ve taken the rather unusual option of testifying on your own behalf.”
“Yes.” He ducked his head, then gave the jury a sad look. “I felt it was necessary in light of everything that’s happened.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“As it states in Ephesians, therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another.”
Elizabeth Brown looked down at her papers, then gave him a patient smile. “Can you explain what that means?”
“Certainly.” He folded his hands and his face took on a beatific expression. “I am a man and therefore, I am a sinner. I have sinned before my congregation and I have sinned before my God, and I am here to atone for those misguided failings of the flesh.”
Peyton rolled her eyes. It was a wonder that his God didn’t smite him whenever he opened his mouth.
“Exactly how have you sinned, Reverend?”
O’Shannahan shifted in his chair and looked directly at the jury. “I gave into temptation and violated the sanctity of my martial bed.”
“In other words, you had an affair.”
O’Shannahan closed his eyes and shook his head. “Let marriage be held in honor among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled, for God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterous.” He pressed his hands together. “So sayeth the Lord, my God in Hebrews.”
Abe snickered beside Peyton. She nudged him with her shoulder and gave him a glare.
The motion drew O’Shannahan’s attention. “I forgive you, Inspector Brooks, for you know not what you do. You follow the laws of our great country, but not the laws of our savior. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” muttered Peyton, causing Abe to snicker again.
“Objection, Your Honor,” said Devan, rising to his feet. “While this might make for good theater, this doesn’t get to the real issue at hand, the reason why the Reverend is on trial.”
“Objection sustained, Mr. Adams. Please control your client’s…ah, religious fervor, Ms. Brown.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” She closed her folder and folded her hands before her. “You had an affair with Teresa Ravensong. Is that correct?”
“It is. I gave in to temptation…”
Elizabeth Brown held up a hand before he could continue. “Just stick to direct answers, Reverend, please.”
“Of course.”
“And that same young woman, Teresa Ravensong, lost her life. Correct?”
“She did.”
“How?”
O’Shannahan turned his head to look at the jury again. “My poor misguided wife in her pain did the unthinkable. In a fit of rage, she struck her with an object and caused her demise.”
“Her death?”
“Correct.”
“Were you present when Teresa Ravensong died?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Then how were you involved?”
“My wife called me. She was frantic and begged me for help.”
“Did you help her?”
He gave a dramatic sigh. “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
“Reverend!” scolded Brown before Devan could object.
“I did. I helped her.”
“And what did you do?”
“I disposed of the murder weapon.”
“Did you know that was an illegal act?”
“It was a desperate act by a desperate man.”
“Did you know it was illegal?”
He shook his head, staring out as if he was seeing beyond the courtroom. “I wasn’t thinking about manmade laws. I was distraught that my weakness, my momentary lapse of righteousness, had resulted in such harm. And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.”
Brown looked down at the table, hesitating for a moment. “No more questions, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Adams?”
Devan rose to his feet and straightened his suit. “Reverend O’Shannahan?”
O’Shannahan shook himself as if he just remembered where he was. “Yes?”
“You admit you destroyed the murder weapon?”
“I disposed of it, yes.”
“What did you think that would do?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Disposing of it? Did you think you would hide the murder?”
O’Shannahan’s eyes went distant again. “I wasn’t thinking. I was in a moment of spiritual crisis, a moment of doubt and shame. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind.”
Devan didn’t move for a moment, then he looked at the judge. Judge Tate slowly shook her head.
“He’s bat-shit crazy,” whispered Abe.
“Crazy like a fox,” said Peyton, glancing over at the jury. A number of them were staring at O’Shannahan with pity in their eyes.
“Come on. No one’s that good an actor.”
Peyton wasn’t sure. One didn’t build a religious empire if he was having imaginary tea parties with the Mad Hatter.
“Reverend O’Shannahan, why did you try to dispose of the murder weapon?”
O’Shannahan looked over at the jury again. “I betrayed my wife, I destroyed her trust in me, I let down my congregation, I let down my faith, and worst of all, I let down my savior, the Lord God Almighty.”
“You tried to cover up a murder.”
O’Shannahan shook his head. “No, I wasn’t trying to cover up a murder. I was trying to do what I should have done all along. I was trying to do my duty as a husband.”
He paused and his unfocused eyes shifted to Devan. When he spoke, his voice shook with emotion. “I was trying to save my wife.”
The jury erupted in murmurs and Devan sighed, lowering his head.
As Devan shifted weight, O’Shannahan’s gaze locked on Peyton and the unfocuse
d look left his eyes. For just a fraction of a moment, so brief that Peyton wasn’t sure she didn’t imagine it, O’Shannahan seemed to smile.
* * *
Peyton moved briskly down the hall of the courthouse, wanting to get outside. She felt like she needed a shower, like she needed to scrub herself clean of that courtroom. O’Shannahan had played the jury and both lawyers like a fiddle and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Abe loped along beside her, smart enough to know not to say anything just yet.
“Inspector Brooks?” came a feminine voice.
Peyton stopped and slowly turned around. She recognized that voice.
Rani Misra was sitting on a bench outside the courtroom, but she rose to her feet as Peyton stormed past. “Peyton? Hi.”
Peyton frowned at her. Hi?
“Do you have a moment? I really need to talk to you.” She came forward, towering over Peyton in five inch heels. Her Vera Wang skirt and silk blouse probably cost more than Peyton’s entire wardrobe and she didn’t even want to guess what the open-toed peach colored pumps must run.
“You need to talk to me?”
“If you don’t mind.” She looked at Abe, holding out her hand. “I’m Rani Misra, Devan’s fiancée.”
Abe’s mouth dropped open, but he took her hand. “Aren’t you adorable?” he said.
Peyton glared at him.
“Thank you.” She beamed a smile, shaking back her long, straight black hair. “I love your shirt.”
Abe placed his hand against his chest. “This? I got this at a delightful little boutique on Castro. It’s the perfect place for gay men and straight women.” He shot a glance at Peyton. “I mean, with a sense of style.”
They both peeled off into laughter.
“Abe!” Peyton snapped.
“Sorry,” he said, forcing a serious face.
Rani shifted her attention to Peyton. “Can I buy you a soda or something, so we can talk?”
“No.”
“Be nice,” hissed Abe.
“No, thank you,” said Peyton. “What do you want?”
Rani clasped her hands at her waist. “This is so awkward.”
“Just spit it out.”
Rani’s jaw firmed. “I need you to stay away from Devan.”
“What?”
“I know you have a history and it must be hard to see him move on, but you’re confusing him right now.”
“I’m what now?”
“Confusing him. When you aren’t around, he’s sure of his future…our future, but then you start luring him away and he forgets what’s important to him.”
“Luring him away?”
“Oh, shit,” muttered Abe.
“Look, I understand how hard this is, but think about it for a moment. You know it wouldn’t work.”
“What wouldn’t work?”
“You and Devan. He has political aspirations, Peyton. Did you know that? He’s planning to run for state senate, then enter politics at the national level.” She gave Peyton a sympathetic half-smile. “How would you fit in on the national stage? A Congressman’s wife has to be willing to subsume herself for her husband’s success. She has to be willing to give up her own career pursuits in order to further his. I don’t think that’s something you would want. Honestly, I’ve been groomed my whole life for this, but you haven’t. You wouldn’t fit in very well in Washington. You’ve got to see that.”
Peyton took a step closer to her.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Abe said to Rani.
“I wouldn’t fit in very well in Washington?” said Peyton.
“I’m not trying to offend you. I’m just being honest.”
“Well, let me tell you something, Runny…”
“It’s Rani.”
“I prefer Runny.” She moved again until she was standing toe to toe with the taller woman. “Let me make something perfectly clear. I don’t have any designs on your fiancé. You are welcome to him. And you’re damn right I wouldn’t give up my career for him, but it isn’t because I wouldn’t fit in on the national stage.”
“I really didn’t mean any offense…”
“I’m speaking and you’re not,” Peyton said through clenched teeth.
She could see Abe shaking his head at Rani as if telling her to shut up.
“I would fit in just fine in Washington. In fact, I would be the talk of the town. Wherever I went, that’s where the news would be.”
“I don’t…”
“You think I wouldn’t make a Congressman’s wife. Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart, I would own that city, I would own the country, and whenever someone mentioned Jackie O after I got there, everyone else would say Jackie Who!”
Rani gaped at her, her mouth hanging open.
“Oh, you poor girl, you just got schooled!” said Abe, tsking his tongue against his teeth.
Peyton gave her a final glare, then turned on her heel, continuing down the hall.
As she neared the elevators, she heard Abe say, “But seriously, those shoes are a-dorable!”
“Abe!” she shouted.
“Later, darling,” he said, then he appeared beside her, easily matching her angry stride with his long gait. “Everyone else would say Jackie Who,” he repeated. “Oh, that’s a classic.”
“I know, right? It just felt so good.”
Abe nodded, the beads on his dreads dancing. “I’m guessing Runny Misery’s getting more tarnished silver for her wedding, isn’t she?”
“Damn straight she is,” Peyton answered without looking back.
* * *
“I’m so glad you could make it,” said her mother, pulling open the door. She held out her arms and Peyton stepped into them, letting her mother enfold her in a hug. “Come in, Marco,” she said, offering him her hand.
Marco took it and let her draw him into the house.
Cliff was waiting at the edge of the living room. “You knocked up yet?” he said, patting Peyton on the belly.
“Cliff!” scolded Alice, taking both Peyton and Marco’s coats.
“I’m joking, but come on, you’re thirty now. You ever gonna pop one out? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a lesbian.”
“Cliff!”
He waved Alice off. Peyton met Marco’s gaze, then forced a smile. “Always a pleasure to see you, Cliff,” she said, letting her mother guide her into the living room.
“Make yourself at home,” she said. Alice had put out a platter of Humus and crackers. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Before they could answer, Cliff punched Marco on the arm. “How about a shot of tequila?”
“Ah, no thank you, just a beer.”
Cliff frowned. “A beer?”
“Yeah, I’m driving.”
“So? You’re a cop.”
Marco’s bewildered gaze shifted to Peyton again.
“Just a beer, Cliff, for both of us,” she intervened.
“See what I mean?” he said with a laugh, slapping Marco in the belly with the back of his hand. “Bossy like a lesbian.”
“Cliff, behave!” said Alice.
“I’ll behave.” He trundled off to the kitchen.
“Come sit down.” Alice motioned Peyton onto the couch and sat down beside her. That left the two recliners. Marco perched uncomfortably in the one closest to the door. Peyton was feeling a little guilty bringing him, but she just couldn’t face a night with Cliff on her own.
“How are you, sweetheart?”
“Good, Mama. How are you?”
“I’m doing great. Work is good. I really enjoy it. I get to meet so many interesting people and I like talking to them.”
“That’s good.”
Alice looked over at Marco. “I made this delicious vegan casserole with cauliflower and almonds. I think you’ll really like it.”
Marco started to answer, but Cliff returned at that moment and passed out the beers. “Vegan? What the hell is that?”
“It’s like vegetarian, C
liff, only they don’t eat dairy either.”
“Vegetarian? Why the hell are we eating that crap?”
“Marco’s vegetarian.”
Cliff threw himself down in the other recliner, then stared at Marco. “Big guy like you? What are you, gay?”
“There it is,” said Peyton, taking a swig of her beer.
Marco just sat there with his mouth open, staring at Cliff.
“Well?”
“Cliff, please.”
“I’m just kidding. It’s okay if you’re gay.”
“Cliff!”
“Well, come on, Alice, the guy’s pretty as a girl.”
“Cliff!”
“It’s okay, Mama,” said Peyton, patting her hand. She’d promised Marco the whole Cliff Martin Experience and he was damned and determined to deliver.
“So how tall are you?”
“Um.” Marco visibly tried to collect himself. “Six four.”
“Whewee! You play football?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In college?”
“No, high school.”
“Linebacker?”
“Defensive End.”
“You like to sack the fruity boys, huh? The quarterbacks?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll bet you did.”
A buzzer went off in the kitchen and Alice started to rise.
“I’ll get it,” said Cliff, waving her back down.
“I need to sprinkle it with the breadcrumbs on the counter and put it back in for another five minutes.”
“I can sprinkle some breadcrumbs. You visit with your daughter.”
After he was gone, Alice reached over and brushed Peyton’s curls off her shoulder. “He gets wound up when we have company.”
Like a freakin’ miniature poodle, Peyton thought.
“He just told me this morning how much he was looking forward to celebrating your birthday, sweetheart.”
“So have you made any wedding plans?”
Alice shrugged. “We’ve talked about it.”
“Do you want all these breadcrumbs?” Cliff shouted from the kitchen.
“Yes.”
“Put it back in for five?”
Murder in the Presidio (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 6) Page 18
