Chapter 45 #2
Something that might not move.
He looked at her another beat, then nodded once—like he didn’t entirely like the answer, but wanted to believe it.
“He’s the elected District Attorney,” she said evenly. “It’s his job to bring them what he thinks might be a crime. It’s my job to make sure they can’t turn that into a conviction unless they can prove every piece of it beyond a reasonable doubt in front of a jury.”
David pushed to his feet, pacing once behind the coffee table.
“They listened to Katie Martin and Lila Grant and decided my boy ought to live through this all over again?” he said.
“Davie doesn’t know yet,” Margaret said quickly.
Footsteps pattered in the hall.
“MiMi?” Davie called. “I’m hungry.”
He skidded into the doorway and stopped when he saw Eleanor—and then spotted his uncle at the edge of the room.
“Hey,” he said shyly.
The whole room seemed to shift.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Eleanor said softly.
Davie looked from face to face, sensing the tension even if he didn’t understand it.
“What’s wrong?”
Margaret cleared her throat.
“Nothin’, sugar. Grown-up stuff.” She forced a smile. “Why don’t you go wash up for lunch?”
Davie’s gaze went to his father instead.
“Daddy?”
David knelt so they were eye level.
“Come here, champ.”
Davie crossed the room.
“’ Remember how we talked about court?” David asked. “Sometimes grown-ups have to go there to answer questions.”
Davie nodded slowly.
“Well, I’ve gotta go again,” David said. “Ms. Harper’s gonna be there with me.”
Davie’s brow furrowed.
“’Bout Mama?” he whispered.
Something in Margaret’s face crumpled.
David swallowed.
“Yeah, bud,” he said quietly. “’Bout Mama.”
Davie’s eyes searched his.
“They askin’ if you were bad?”
Eleanor’s chest tightened.
David’s voice went hoarse.
“They’re askin’ a lot of questions,” he said. “But don’t you worry, buddy. Daddy will be okay.”
Davie looked at him a long moment, small fingers curling in the fabric of David’s sleeve.
Then he nodded once.
“MiMi says you’re a good daddy,” he said. “And Mama’s an angel.”
Margaret turned away, shoulders shaking.
“That’s right,” David said thickly. “And I love you more than anything.”
Davie nodded again, as if that settled it in his world.
“Can I have grilled cheese?”
Margaret let out a wet little laugh.
“Go wash your hands,” she said. “I’ll make you two.”
He thumped back down the hall, the sound of his footsteps fading.
“They’re gonna put me in a jumpsuit,” David said quietly, not looking up.
“We’ll do everything we can to avoid that,” Eleanor said. “You’re still out on bond. Monday is arraignment and calendar call—we enter a not guilty plea, make sure your release stays in place, and start the clock on everything that comes next.”
“And after that?” his father asked.
“After that,” Eleanor said, “we prepare for trial.”
Margaret looked up at her.
“Can you do it?”
Eleanor met her gaze.
“We’re going to make them prove every single thing they’re saying about him,” she said. “If they can’t, the jury will see that. And if at any point I stop believing he’s telling me the truth—”
She glanced toward David’s father.
“—you’ll be the first to know.”
He studied her.
“If you stop believin’ him,” he said quietly, “you’ll tell us?”
“If I stop believing him,” she said, “I won’t be your lawyer anymore.”
He held her eyes for a long moment.
Then nodded once.
“That’ll do.”
David sank back onto the couch.
“What happens now?”
“Now I go back to the office,” Eleanor said. “I file formal discovery requests. Every report, every interview, every text, every photo they plan to use. The lab work on Riverbend. Dr. Cade’s autopsy. Then I start pulling it apart.”
All her doubts lived buried under the armor she wore into court.
She hesitated.
“And I see exactly what he showed them this morning,” she added quietly.
A muscle pulsed in David’s cheek, but he didn’t say Reid’s name again.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Margaret said, pushing to her feet.
Eleanor followed her down the hall.
In the kitchen, Davie stood at the sink washing his hands, head bent over the soap. The sight hit harder than she expected.
“Hey,” she said softly. “You okay?”
Davie shrugged, more boy than burdened.
“MiMi says it’s just court stuff,” he said. “Grown-up talk.”
“She’s right,” Eleanor said. “Just grown-up talk.”
He rinsed the suds away and glanced up at her.
“Mama’s still an angel,” he said matter-of-factly, as if confirming the one part of the world that didn’t change.
Eleanor’s throat tightened.
“Yeah,” she managed. “She is.”
He dried his hands.
“Will you be there with Daddy?”
“Yes,” she said. “I will.”
He nodded, satisfied.
“Okay.”
She stepped outside and took one long breath of clean air. It felt heavier than when she’d gone in, thick with the promise of a storm the forecast hadn’t mentioned.
As she reached her car, a sedan she didn’t recognize slowed on the road, phone held high out the passenger window.
The lens tracked her. Another vulture.
She didn’t duck.
By the time she reached Main Street again, she could already feel the storm picking up.
The podcasts would have their headline.
David Mercer indicted. Caroline Simms found.
What they didn’t know yet was the part that mattered.
She wasn’t done with them.
Not by a long shot.
And if Reid Calloway thought she was about to back down—
He was about to learn better.