CHAPTER 5
If looks could kill, I’d be a dead woman right now.
Fortunately, they can’t. And people have tried using far deadlier methods against me before and failed. Still, I can’t deny that it hurts. I’m sure plenty of mothers hate their son’s girlfriend, but most of them probably wouldn’t actually commit murder if given the chance.
Yet as Janine Walker glares at me from the seat beside her defense attorney, there’s no denying what I see in her eyes. Hatred. Blood lust. Disgust. I’m sure the woman would have my head impaled on a stake if she could.
Rubbing my sweaty palms across the thighs of my slacks, I fight the urge to shift in my seat. Refuse to be the one to look away first. I know how any sign of weakness whets a predator’s appetite. I refuse to be seen as prey.
Perhaps sensing my discomfort, Jake wraps an arm around my shoulders. He scoots closer, until I’m tucked against him. Plants a kiss against the side of my head.
Janine ends our staring contest, her gaze softening as it shifts to her son.
Within seconds, it’s hardened again, her entire expression turning to stone as her eyes flit between me and Jake.
It’s only then that I realize what he’s doing—making it clear who he’s chosen. And momma ain’t happy about it.
If Jake notices her intense glare, he doesn’t let on. He doesn’t acknowledge her at all. Instead, he looks straight ahead, listening to the judge as he opens the preliminary hearing.
To the casual observer, the man next to me would appear completely calm and relaxed, but I know better. The telltale signs of his distress are there, in the way his forefinger rubs against the cuticle on his thumb. The shallowness of his breathing. How tight he’s holding me.
He makes a small hmm noise. I glance up to find the stoic expression he’s been wearing replaced by a frown. It grows as I watch. My muscles tense, I follow his gaze to the bench, where Janine’s defense attorney is speaking to the judge in a voice too low for the rest of the courtroom to hear.
The judge’s eyebrows rise. He adjusts his glasses. Finally, he nods.
Clearing his throat, he says, “Due to an unexpected development, I’m accepting the defense’s motion to delay proceedings. We’ll postpone until next Monday.”
I look at Jake, not understanding what’s just happened.
“Is that normal?” I whisper.
“No.”
“Should we be worried?”
“I’m not sure.”
Janine stands, casting a final poisonous scowl at me as she’s led away by the bailiff. Beside me, Jake rises to his feet.
“Come on,” he says, holding his hand out for mine. “Let’s see if we can find out what’s going on.”
We hurry after the prosecutor as he leaves the courtroom.
“Hey, Dennis,” Jake calls.
The man stops and turns around. His polite smile turns genuine when he sees us.
“Well look what the cat dragged in. Jake Walker. How are things over at Myers and Kleinman? The dark side been keeping you busy?”
“You know evil—it never rests.”
I force a smile onto my face as the men share a laugh. I wasn’t aware that Jake knew the DA. Given that they’re both big lawyers in a small pond, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. What does surprise me, though, is that Jake never mentioned it.
Dennis Farber’s attention shifts to me. “And, Agent Knox. It’s nice to see you. I appreciate you coming out today to show your support. You two know each other?”
“We’re together,” Jake says.
“I wasn’t aware. How long have—”
“Any idea what just happened in there?” Jake interrupts, too impatient to keep engaging in small talk.
“You mean the Walker—” The man’s expression clouds over with confusion. His brows knit together. “Wait.” His eyes dart between me and Jake. “Are you related to the defendant?”
“She’s my mother,” Jake admits in a tight voice.
The man clears his throat. Lasers a steely look at me as he says, “And you’re my star witness. Is this going to be an issue?”
“Only if you let it be,” Jake answers rather brusquely. “We’re all on the same page here, Dennis. My mother is a dangerous person. She needs to spend the rest of her life in prison.”
“Actually, we’ve decided to go for the death penalty.”
A muscle in Jake’s jaw tics. “Since when?”
“We just made the decision this morning.”
“Is that what the delay is about?”
“No. Your guess is as good as mine about that. It’s probably a move made by Bianchi’s defense team, but I wouldn’t worry about it. They can’t change the facts. We definitely have enough evidence to prove probable cause and go to trial.”
If you believe what’s been reported in the local papers, Tony Bianchi’s lawyers have done their best to turn Janine into their sacrificial lamb.
And given that he has a legal dream team that’s somehow managed to delay his trial and all related proceedings until after hers is complete, and that she’s being represented by a public defender, I’m willing to buy it.
Still, I fail to see what they stand to gain by pulling a last-minute move like this.
The mystery behind the delay, all the unknowns, this entire conversation is making me anxious.
Just the idea that the people who murdered my parents might somehow finagle their way out of paying for their crimes makes it feel like an invisible vise has clamped around my chest, tightening until I can barely breathe.
I need to get out of here before I do something stupid.
Or worse, something to embarrass Jake. Blessedly, my cell rings, sparing my addled brain from having to think of an excuse.
Catching Jake’s eye, I hold up my phone and gesture that I’m going to step away before leaving the two men to their discussion.
“Hello?”
“Cassidy, it’s Donna.”
The last time the owner of the small feed store in my tiny hometown of Gator Glade called me, I ended up with a giant rooster and an enraged cockfighter on my hands. Which means this will either be exactly what I need, or the last thing I need right now. Either way, I’m grateful for the diversion.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I just had someone call to report an animal in need of rescue out on the Indigo Hammock trail. I was hoping maybe you’d be able to go check it out.”
I open my mouth to respond, then clamp it shut so hard that my molars clip the edge of my tongue.
Indigo Hammock is miles off the beaten path.
Even farther from help, should someone out there need it.
My heart races as the memory of the sniper’s red dot on my T-shirt yesterday fills my mind. I quickly push it away.
Taking a deep breath, I cup my free hand over the pulse throbbing in my neck as I say, “Sure. What am I looking for?”
“She said it was a raccoon. Poor thing has its head stuck in something metal. About two and a half, maybe three miles in.”
Three miles. Most hikers don’t make it that far into the trails around here in the heat, not unless they’re local, which I’m sure Donna would have mentioned if this woman was. My throat tightens, making it difficult to swallow. What if it’s a trap? Then again, what if it’s not?
Sweat pricks at my skin as I argue with myself. I refuse to live in fear. Whoever’s after me would know I have more sense than to hike out into the middle of the woods alone—even if I actually don’t.
Because I have to live my life normally. I can’t let them take that from me. And there’s no way I can risk the chance that an animal in need goes unattended. Even if it is a really stupid decision… one that I shouldn’t even consider.
What would my grandfather do?
Easy. Butch would hike out and do his best to find the raccoon. Plus, chances are that the hiker estimated the distance wrong. One mile can feel like five when you practically have to swim through the humidity.
“Did she sound sure of the distance?”
“Er… no. But she said she’d been walking at a steady pace for a little over an hour when she saw it. And that she found some sticks, laid them in the middle of the path in the shape of an arrow pointing toward where it was.”
I stifle a groan. Depending on how fast she was going, the woman could have made it even farther than she’d guessed in that time.
That’s a long way to hike on the off chance that the animal is still able to be spotted from the trail.
Even longer if I do find it and discover that I need to carry it out for medical attention.
But I won’t be able to sleep tonight, thinking about it out there in need of help, if I don’t at least try to find it.
And it will definitely be a distraction.
Casting a glance at Jake, I find him still in discussion with DA Farber. Given what happened last night, he won’t be happy about me heading that far into the woods alone.
“Sounds easy enough,” I lie. “I’ll swing by the house and grab some gear, then set out.”
“Great. Let me know how it goes.”
Ending the call, I return to Jake’s side just as his conversation with the DA is wrapping up.
“I’ll give you a buzz, let you know what I find out,” Dennis says, holding up a rectangle of paper I recognize as one of Jake’s business cards.
“I appreciate it.”
“And, Agent Knox, I’ll let you know as soon as we have a court date and I have an idea of when you’ll be needed for your testimony.”
“Thank you.”
A round of handshakes later, Jake wraps an arm around me as we watch the district attorney go.
“Everything all right?” I ask.
“Yeah. How about with you?”
“Just something that Donna needs some help with.”
“You’ve got to go, then?”
“Yeah, I probably should.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
My eyebrows shoot up my forehead. That was easier than I thought it would be. I hurry to bring my expression back to neutral, but I can’t deny the rush of both surprise and relief that he isn’t asking about where I’m going and what I’ll be doing after what happened yesterday.
Not to mention it’s an odd thing to say, considering we’re parked next to each other.
I keep the thought to myself as we cross the parking lot, figuring his mom’s case has him distracted.
Do my best to make my smile genuine as I turn to face him.
But the kiss he drops on my forehead leaves a lot to be desired.
He waits as I get settled behind the wheel, buckle my seat belt, and start the engine.
“Drive safe,” he says, his eyes meeting mine only briefly before he presses my door closed.
Something’s wrong. A lot of things are actually, but this something is different. Unexpected. And though I try to tell myself I’m imagining things as I linger at the stop sign watching Jake walk back into the courthouse, I’m sure that I’m not.