Chapter 32
Hez held Savannah’s hand as they sat on the first-row bench in the probate courtroom, just behind Scott Foster, who was seated
at the counsel table with his paralegal. Michael sat behind his lawyer on the other side of the room. Janet Henderson, the
guardian ad litem, occupied a chair in the jury box, which was otherwise empty. A scattering of witnesses dotted the gallery,
waiting their turns to testify. Simon was in the jury room, totally absorbed in The Dangerous Book for Boys, a gift from Savannah.
The door behind the judge’s bench opened. “All rise,” the clerk said.
Judge O’Keefe came through the door, looking like a black-draped cube. Once he was seated and the case called, he swept his
gaze over the room. “Good morning, everyone. We have dueling adoption petitions today rather than a single petition, which
makes things a little more complicated. To keep the proceedings as simple as possible, I’ll consider the petitions simultaneously
and take all evidence for both petitions in one hearing. So, for example, witnesses will only testify once and their testimony
will go to both petitions. Do both sides agree?”
Scott rose. “Petitioners Savannah and Hezekiah Webster agree, Your Honor.”
Michael’s attorney, Agatha Morgan, stood. “Counterpetitioner Michael Willard also agrees, Your Honor.”
“All right,” the judge said as the lawyers resumed their seats. “Let’s get started.” He patted a tall stack of paper on the
bench. “I have before me objections to various prehearing evidentiary submissions. I’ve gone through all of them. If we had
a jury, I’d rule on each objection individually and carefully filter out anything that might be inadmissible. But since I’m
the only fact finder here, I’m going to take a more relaxed approach and let in everything—with one exception. Petitioners’
objection to the pictures of Mr. Webster is sustained.”
Morgan stood. “If I might be heard briefly, Your Honor. We have the photographer here in court. We also have an expert in
manipulated imagery. They are prepared to testify that—”
The judge held up his hand. “I don’t care whether the pictures are real. I’m excluding them because they’re scandalous and
only marginally relevant to the best interests of the child. If you want the technical legal standard, the prejudicial impact
of those pictures outweighs their probative value.” Morgan opened her mouth to argue further, but Judge O’Keefe kept going.
“A lot of dirt gets thrown around in these proceedings—but I keep it to a minimum in this courtroom. Some dirt is regrettably
necessary. This is not. Objection sustained.”
Morgan closed her mouth and resumed her seat.
Savannah squeezed Hez’s hand, her green eyes bright with hope.
Hez squeezed back and gave a little smile and nod.
Their surprise victory on the pictures was a nice way to start the hearing, but it sent a little ripple of worry through Hez.
The judge easily could have ruled the other way—and probably should have.
Prejudicial impact really only mattered when a jury was present.
Maybe the judge excluded the pictures as a matter of principle—but he could also be preparing to rule against the Websters.
If he denied their adoption petition, Hez and Savannah wouldn’t later be able to argue that he relied on improper evidence.
Judge O’Keefe turned to Scott. “Your clients filed their petition first, so you can put on your case first. Call your first
witness.”
Scott stood and moved to the lectern. “We call Savannah Webster.”
She rose from her seat and walked up to the witness stand. The bailiff swore her in, and she perched on the chair in the witness
box. Scott walked her through the testimony they’d practiced, and she did a great job. She talked about how happy Simon was
with her and Hez, the opportunities their connections to TGU would offer the boy, and even the room they were preparing for
him in their new home. She ended with Jess’s dying insistence that Savannah care for Simon. Her voice was halting and soft,
but the entire courtroom was utterly silent as she spoke. Morgan didn’t even bother cross-examining Savannah.
Scott then called the guardian ad litem, Janet Henderson.
She admitted being friends with Helen Willard, but she said that the relationship didn’t affect her report or recommendation.
Scott did his best to undermine her judgment, but she was an experienced witness.
Also, the judge had appointed Henderson, so Scott had to use kid gloves to avoid offending him.
When Morgan stepped up to the lectern, she only asked whether Henderson stood by her recommendation.
Henderson said yes, and Morgan sat down.
Hez’s turn came next. He spent a lot less time on the stand than he’d expected. His main goal had been to discredit the Martine
pictures, leaving him little to do on direct examination except echo Savannah’s testimony about Simon.
Morgan’s cross-examination of Hez held a few fireworks. She set her notes on the lectern and went straight for the jugular.
“Mr. Webster, your daughter drowned while in your care, correct?”
Hez speared Michael with a glare. He sat perfectly still and held Hez’s gaze. “My daughter was murdered.”
Morgan’s thin eyebrows went up. “Oh. The police report at the time indicated an accidental death while the child was in your
care, correct?”
“Yes, but that was before Michael Willard’s nephew Deke confessed.” Hez spared a glance at Michael. A murderous glint sparked
in his eyes.
Morgan’s mouth hung open for a second. “Objection, hearsay. Move to strike.”
Scott rose. “It’s an admission against interest and therefore exempt from the hearsay rule.”
Judge O’Keefe nodded. “It is indeed. Objection overruled and motion denied.”
Morgan turned to Michael, who gave a slight shrug. She studied her notes for a long moment. “Is this Deke in prison?”
“Yes. He was just sentenced to life in prison for other crimes, including another murder,” Hez said.
“So he’s not a threat to Simon, right?”
“Not anymore, though several of the crimes he was already convicted of involved attacks on Simon.” Hez looked at Michael again. “And Deke didn’t act alone.”
Morgan glanced at her notes. “Simon also almost drowned in your care, correct?”
Hez grimaced. “Correct.”
She turned over a page. “You founded a legal clinic called the Justice Chamber, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Does the Justice Chamber sometimes take on cases against dangerous opponents?”
“Yes.”
“Opponents such as James Hornbrook?”
Hez cut a look at Michael. Amusement flickered in the older man’s blue eyes. “James Hornbrook is no longer a dangerous opponent.”
“But he did kidnap Simon, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And the Justice Chamber may in the future accept cases against other dangerous opponents, correct?”
Hez lifted a brow. “You’re implying that the head of a legal clinic is a greater danger to Simon than the head of a crime
family? That’s really your argument?”
Michael tensed and muttered something. The muscular bailiff stirred, and Morgan reached back to put a hand on Michael’s shoulder.
“I’ll ask you again. The Justice Chamber may in the future accept cases against other dangerous opponents, correct?”
Hez shrugged. “I can’t speculate on what cases the Chamber may or may not take in the future—but I can assure you that I’ll
do everything in my power to keep Simon safe.”
Morgan flipped through her notes and apparently decided she didn’t want to give Hez an excuse to keep talking. “No further questions.”
Hez resumed his seat with the pleasant weight of Michael’s glare on his back. Scott’s plan was working. They needed to persuade
Judge O’Keefe that Simon wouldn’t be safe with Michael Willard, despite what Henderson said in her report. If Michael lost
his temper and lashed out in the middle of the hearing, that just might be enough. So Hez had pushed his enemy’s buttons at
every opportunity from the witness stand. It hadn’t been hard—all Hez had to do was tell the truth to Michael’s face.
Scott stepped up to the lectern. “Petitioners call Erik Andersen.”
A few people in the courtroom glanced toward the gallery, looking for Andersen. The rest didn’t react at all—except Michael.
His eyes widened and he turned pale. He stared at Scott for a moment, then recovered his composure and focused his gaze on
the wall in front of him.
Scott glanced over his shoulder. “It appears that Mr. Andersen is not available at the moment. Petitioners call Michael Willard.”
Michael walked to the witness box, was sworn in by the bailiff, and sat. His back didn’t touch the chair and he eyed Scott
warily.
Scott gave Michael a genial smile. “Good morning, Mr. Willard. When I called Mr. Andersen a moment ago, you seemed surprised
and looked at me. You were the only one in the courtroom who reacted like that. Why?”
Michael shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Could it be because you know Mr. Andersen is dead?”
Michael licked his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do. This wouldn’t be the first time a member of the Willard crime family murdered an inconvenient witness, would it?”
Michael flushed and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Morgan popped to her feet. “Objection! Counsel is harassing
the witness.”
Scott held his hands palms up. “Whether Mr. Willard is a murderer and a member of a criminal organization is clearly relevant.”
Michael glowered from the stand. “I’m neither!”
The judge gave Michael a warning look. “Wait for a question, Mr. Willard.” He turned to Scott. “It’s relevant, but you need
to prove it with evidence. Don’t just throw around terms like ‘crime family.’ You know better than that, Mr. Foster.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Scott looked at Michael. “Let’s start with Willards murdering witnesses. Your nephew Deke pled guilty to
the murder of Beckett Harrison, who was going to testify against Deke, correct?”
“You’d have to ask Deke about that.”
“I’m asking you.”
“I don’t remember the specifics.”
Scott turned to his paralegal, who handed him a document. “I believe you were present at the sentencing hearing. I have a
transcript in my hand. Would that help refresh your memory of the specifics?”
A vein stood out on Michael’s neck, but he kept his voice level. “I remember in general terms that Deke pled guilty to the
Harrison murder.”
“And that Harrison was going to testify against Deke in another murder case?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” Scott handed the document back to his paralegal, who gave him another stack of paper. “Deke has an extensive
criminal history. Would it be helpful for you to have a copy for reference?”
Michael’s nostrils flared. “No.”
Morgan stood. “Objection, relevance. Your Honor, we’ve already established that Deke Willard will be in prison for the rest
of his life. He’s obviously no threat to Simon.”
Judge O’Keefe nodded. “You’ve made your point, Mr. Foster. I’ll accept as proven that Deke Willard is a career criminal. Move
on.”
Michael leaned forward. “Deke is a troubled boy.”
Scott tapped the lectern for a moment. “There are a lot of those in the Willard family, aren’t there? Let’s talk about Deke’s
brother, Joseph Willard V.”
Michael’s face darkened. “Don’t speak ill of the dead.”
“He died in a shootout with police, didn’t he?”
“They murdered him.”
Scott reached for another document from his paralegal. “The police report says otherwise. Would you like to see it?”
A muscle twitched in Michael’s neck. “No.”
“Deke’s and Joseph’s cousin Thomas also died in the same incident. He fired shots at the police and died in the return gunfire,
correct?”
“I’m sure you’ve got a police report that says so.”
“I do. And your own brother, David, is currently awaiting trial for—”
Michael stood. “That’s enough!”
The bailiff stepped into the well of the court and put his hand on the butt of his Taser. Judge O’Keefe stabbed Michael with a cold glare. “Sit down!”
Michael slowly resumed his seat, every eye in the courtroom fixed on him. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ll be more than sorry if you do that again.” There was granite in the judge’s face and voice. “You’ll be in jail for
contempt.” He nodded to Scott. “Proceed, Counsel.”
“Mr. Willard, you are the only Willard male in your generation or the next younger generation who’s not either behind bars
or dead from violence, correct?”
Michael clenched his jaw and nodded.
“The court reporter needs an audible response.”
“I have cousins and second cousins, but that’s true enough of my immediate family.”
“So would you agree that it’s also true enough to refer to the Willards as a crime family?”
Michael’s face mottled and his knuckles went white on the rail of the witness stand. For an instant Hez thought Michael was
going to launch himself at Scott. The bailiff tensed and half drew the Taser.
Michael’s jaw muscles worked for a moment, clenching and unclenching. “We’re not a crime family, Mr. Foster. I’m proud of
my family. Very proud. But . . . to tell the truth, the last few years have been hard.” His voice roughened. “I-I’m all my
mama has left, except the great-grandkids.”
Scott gathered his papers. “No further questions.”
Morgan stepped up to the lectern as Scott sat at the counsel table. “Do you intend to let Simon follow in the footsteps of
Deke or other Willard men who have had trouble with the law?”
Michael scoffed. “Of course not.”
“Will Simon have any contact with them?”
“No.” Michael shot an icy glare at Scott. “Not unless he visits the cemetery or the prison.”
“Do you love Simon?”
“With all my heart. That boy means the world to me.”
“No further questions.”
The tension in the courtroom eased as Michael left the witness stand and went back to his seat.
Judge O’Keefe glanced around. “Do the petitioners have additional witnesses?”
Scott stood. “No, Your Honor. Petitioners rest.”
The judge looked at Morgan. “Does the counterpetitioner have any witnesses?”
Morgan rose. “Counterpetitioner also rests, Your Honor.”
The judge nodded. “I believe quick resolutions are critical in adoption cases. And that’s what I’m going to give all of you
and Simon.” He nodded to the bailiff. “Go get the boy so he can be here when I give my ruling.”