26. Lincoln
I pacein front of the courtroom where the case for Becca’s conservatorship is set to be heard, waiting for both Becca and her lawyer. A man I’ve never met and who I haven’t had but one single conversation with since this thing moved so fucking fast. Becca should be arriving soon in the car I sent to pick her up from the ranch. After today, she’s coming home with me, no matter what I have to do. I told her to come with a bag packed, and we’d go back for the rest of her shit later.
There’s no fucking way a judge would rule in favor of granting a full conservatorship-–covering her personal and financial decisions—not with the piece of paper I have burning a hole in my breast pocket. Vince just faxed it to the office this morning, and I haven’t stopped fuming since I read it.
Heels clicking across the otherwise empty hall draws my attention. Turning, I see Becca striding toward me by herself. The driver most likely parked and is waiting for our call to pick her back up. She’s dressed in a simple, modest black dress that stops mid-calf. In the heels, with this dress, and the way her makeup is done, she looks too old. Too grown up. But also…
“You look beautiful, sis.” I wrap her in a tight hug. “How are you doing?”
She shrugs, honestly looking like this isn’t affecting her. Not the way it is me. She’s always been the stronger one of the two of us. “Fine. Listen, I actually wanted to talk to you. This whole thing is ridiculous. I’m eighteen. If we’re fighting over money, I don’t want it. Can’t we just go in and tell the judge I forfeit the trust? Problem solved?”
Of course she would do that. She’s enjoyed the privileges of money but never cared about it. Not the way some people are. Scared of losing it, scared of not having as much as someone else. I suppose she’s had better things to worry about. “I wish it were that simple, Becca. But Mom and Dad didn’t sue for only a financial conservatorship. They’re suing for full conservatorship.”
“What does that mean exactly? Like they want to make all my decisions for me?” Her eyes pop wide open.
“Basically,” I agree. “But that’s not going to happen.” Without question, she nods at my words, placing complete trust in me. Fuck, I hope I deserve it.
A few minutes later, a man approaches us. “Lincoln?” he asks, and when I nod, he extends his hand to me and shakes it. “William,” he tells me before turning to Becca. “That must make you Rebecca.”
The man extends his hand to her, too, with a friendly smile on his face.
“Becca,” she corrects him. To my horror, she fucking blushes, nods, and shakes his hand. I clear my throat.
Not for him, but for my moony-eyed sister. I suppose the man does look sort of young, but still too old for my eighteen-year-old sister. Newly eighteen years old, too.
She shoots me a glare, and I shoot her one right back.
Get a grip, I say with my eyes.
Bite me, asshole is what her glower says right back.
“Trouble in paradise already?” a mocking, feminine voice remarks to our right.
Lilith and Lucifer stand just feet from us, and I curse myself for not hearing them approach or being aware enough of our surroundings to avoid this confrontation.
William is already a step ahead, though. “Let’s go inside, Becca.” He extends a hand as he opens the door, and I hear him whisper to her to ignore them.
Good man.
The phone in my pocket starts to buzz just as my dad looks like he’s going to say something to me. I give him the finger, something I’ve never done before but for some reason feels right in this situation, then walk away and answer the incoming call.
I enjoy seeing the purple color of his face before my mom drags him into the room after Becca and William.
“Hello?” I say without looking at the caller ID.
“Linc, it’s Vince.” My private investigator.
“Hey, man. I’m about to go into court; I already got your fax. It’s going to make a huge difference. Thank you.” I make the words as sincere as I can, about to hang up.
“Hold up, man. That’s great, but not what I’m calling about.” I pause.
“Oh. Did you find something else?” I frown. There wasn’t anything else I asked him to look for.
“Yeah, but not about Becca.”
“Okay, suspense fucking built. Spit it out,” I grit out, completely on edge.
He sighs. “I was looking into your parents’ finances, that’s how I found out what I faxed you earlier about that pay-off. But then I kept looking and saw another large sum of money that was taken out.” That could be for anything, but I play along.
“Did you find where it went?”
“Yeah,” he pauses like he doesn’t want to tell me but says, “to one of Judge Whittington’s personal accounts.”
When I walk into the courtroom, William and Becca are already sitting behind one of the desks upfront. My dad, mom, and their lawyer, who looks old as fucking dirt, is sitting in the other. After hanging up with Vince—listening to him tell me what he found-–every molecule of my being wants to bum rush my parents and beat the shit out of both of them for interfering in Lillian and Grace’s life like this.
I can only hope it doesn’t work and everyone I love leaves here today with good news, despite my parents’ attempts at sabotaging our chances.
There’s not a seat next to Becca, so I grab the first bench behind their table. It’s just the six of us in here right now, waiting for the judge, court reporter, and bailiff to arrive.
The latter two arrive first a few minutes later and take up their posts. Minutes after that, the door to the judge’s chamber opens, and we all stand. A woman in her early fifties or maybe late forties with shoulder-length red hair barges out in what seems like a terrible mood. The robe she’s wearing billows out behind her as she stomps up to the bench, slaps down a file, and then sits in her seat.
The court reporter reads the docket for the record, and the judge barely lets her finish before starting a tirade. “Does anyone here know where I’m supposed to be right now?”
All six of us stare in a shocked silence up at her. Nobody speaks.
Her laugh is anything but amused. “I’m supposed to be on a plane to Greece with the rest of my family. Care to guess why I’m not? Or why I had to fire a clerk in my office this morning?”
Silence, but I swear her eyes linger on my mom and dad, almost like she knows who is responsible for ruining her vacation.
“No? Okay, how about an easy one? Who can tell me why a full conservatorship hearing was moved up an entire month when the initial suit was filed less than a week ago?”
More silence. Though now I’m holding back the world’s smuggest smile. The judge’s temper is about to work in our favor. Everyone here knows who is responsible for moving this up.
After a few more moments of silence, she huffs. “Well, let’s just get right into this thing then. I’ve looked over the lawsuit laid out by the plaintiff, and I won’t hear anything for a full conservatorship. There isn’t enough evidence here to suggest Miss Walton is incapable of handling her personal affairs. I will hear a case for limited conservatorship, though, as is the precedent set forth for these cases in Arizona.”
When my parents’ lawyer stands up to object, I take the piece of paper from my pocket, tap William on the shoulder, and hand it to him when he looks back at me. I was going to give it to him before we walked in, but there wasn’t enough time.
After he finishes glancing at it, he shoots me a grateful look, stands up, and addresses the judge who just finished overruling my parents’ objection.
“Your honor, I’d like to enter new evidence into the record regarding the incident that happened with my client a few weeks ago.”
Opposing counsel stands again, but the judge throws a hand up in his direction, staving him off.
“Why wasn’t this with the rest of the paperwork?” She raises her brows but allows him to walk up and hand it to her.
At that, I stand and answer, “It was just faxed to me this morning, your honor. As you said, this moved too fast for us to get everything together on time.”
She nods in agreement but asks, “And who are you?”
“I’m Becca’s brother, your honor. She’s set to move in with me now that she’s eighteen.”
“And that’s what you want?” The judge looks to Becca, who agrees. She reads the piece of paper in front of her and lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Would either of the Waltons like to tell me why I’m reading an affidavit signed by the nurse that was supposedly assaulted, saying she was paid to invent the encounter?” She looks directly at my parents and their counsel.
All three of them go rigid, and my dad looks back at me with a blank look on his face that has only ever meant violence was soon to follow.
“I don’t see anywhere on here that she admits to who paid her.” This question is directed toward me since I’m the one who produced the affidavit.
“She wouldn’t say, your honor. She would only confirm Becca did not do it. She’s been doing well with her mental health issues for a long time, and every other nurse at the facility believes she’s well enough to live with me or on her own at this point. So long as she keeps up with therapy.”
The judge sits back, folds her arms across her chest, and stares between all parties. That is, until Becca taps William on the arm and whispers something in his ear. His frown at her words isn’t reassuring, but he nods back and stands.
“Something to add?” the judge asks.
“Yes, your honor. Now that you’ve ruled against a full conservatorship, my client has stated she’s willing to relinquish all rights to her trust fund. We ask that this case be dismissed.” He pauses, then adds, “She just wants her freedom back and to live with her brother.”
“You’d give up your trust?” A brow is raised toward my sister by the judge.
“Yes, your honor.”
The silence after that is long and deafening. All that can be heard is the tapping of the judge’s finger against the arm of her chair as she stares at my sister, contemplating something.
After several minutes of quiet, the judge speaks. “This case is being dismissed. No conservatorship is granted, and the defendant can access the trust as laid out by the terms in it.” Which is now since it says she must be eighteen to get access.
My parents’ lawyer stands quickly, outrage in his eyes. “Your honor, this is rid–” he starts to say, but she stands, cutting him off.
“Feel free to file your appeal in the morning counsel. I’ll look at it when I get back from my vacation.” With that, she walks out, back through the doors to her chambers.
When the doors slam shut, I stand and walk around the railing separating Becca from me, and wrap her in a hug so tight, she groans into my suit jacket. I pull away only after she pinches my side, both of us laughing.
With a smile on my face, I turn to William and shake his hand. From the corner of my eye, I watch the three stooges walk out of the courtroom in a rage.
“Well, isn’t that some luck?” William laughs, still staring at the doors the judge disappeared in. He’s not wrong. There could not have been a better circumstance than what just happened. My dad and mom’s attempt to give us so little time to prepare backfired in the most incredible, comical way. “Well, thanks for being my easy case. Congratulations, you two.” William grins at us and then walks out, leaving just Becca and I standing in the empty courtroom.
“Ready to go home, big brother?” She smiles up at me, and those words sound sweet as hell after everything.
But there’s one thing we have to do first.
We walk out of the room and split off. Becca goes to find her driver and grab her bag, stating she wants to drive home with me, and then I walk in the direction of the room where Lillian’s hearing should just be ending, too.
Right on time, I smile as I see the back of her head walking in the opposite direction as me near her room.
“Lillian!” I shout and jog up to meet her. “Hey, how’d it go?” I smile as she turns to me. But the smile drops off my face immediately at the desolate, devastated look in her eyes and the tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I lost,” she croaks.