Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
But he didn’t succeed quite so well when it was women who’d thwarted him.
“The way she flung herself at me, it … it must have delivered the killing blow. I didn’t do anything, but she was … she was dead. And I knew I couldn’t let the boys know their mother had…” His word cracked, his breathing hitched. “I couldn’t let them know she’d done that to herself.”
“How can he lie like this?” Aly whispered, and she was crying. Big tears falling down her cheeks. “There’s no way this is true.”
But Ben was still talking. Still working over the jury.
“I look back and realize I wasn’t thinking straight,” Ben said, sounding so kind.
“I didn’t want the boys to know she’d done that to herself.
That she’d harm herself in such a way, that she’d use me to do it.
I realize, looking back with more time to truly deal with the trauma of it all, I shouldn’t have, but in the moment, I let everyone think it was murder because I thought that’d be better for my boys.
Everything I’ve ever done is for my boys. ”
It was such a lie, such a fabrication. An absolutely stunning fiction.
It was also provably wrong. All they needed was Bo’s DNA, with or without him on the stand. Dad’s reason for Mom being mad would be proven false, the lies would be proven, and everything he was saying would fall apart.
But Cal was starting to make sense of the Bo Lake of it all.
They wanted Bo poking around in the beginning, because it lent credence to this bastard child story. People around town had seen Bo and the resemblance. They’d seen him go into Honor’s Edge. They’d wanted to ensure there was no question Bo existed.
And then make sure that existence could only be used the way they wanted it. So Dad could make up this fucking story about a kid out of wedlock.
Cal heard a noise next to him and an unease slithered up his spine, that pounding headache that often accompanied a memory he didn’t want. But no memories came.
The sound came again though, and Cal realized Glenda had gotten to her feet. The sound was coming from her.
“No,” she croaked, louder this time.
People were starting to look her way. Including Ben, who’d paled. He didn’t look so contrite or in control with Glenda speaking. He looked furious.
And terrified.
“Liar,” Glenda growled.
The judge had taken notice now. “Quiet in the courtroom, please.”
“Liar!” Glenda said, louder this time, pointing a shaky hand at Ben.
*
Jill stared up at her grandmother in utter shock.
Glenda had spoken.
Awake. On purpose.
A bailiff came over to Grandma, who was shaking her head. No more talking now. Cal had moved forward and was talking to Mr. Vanderbilt in low, urgent tones. Everyone else was staring at Grandma.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave, ma’am,” the bailiff said.
He took Grandma’s arm. She didn’t fight him like Jill half expected, but she didn’t move at first. Her gaze was furious and on Benjamin Bennet.
Who had his head bowed, so Jill couldn’t see his expression. But Jill didn’t know how to care about what lies Ben was telling when Grandma had spoken.
“Ma’am,” the bailiff said shortly.
Jill leapt to her feet. “I’ll take her.” She took Grandma’s arm herself, started tugging her to the aisle.
This time, Grandma finally moved. The bailiff eyed Jill, then Glenda. He gave a little nod, but he was following them out.
Once outside, the bailiff stood there, as if blocking the door. “I’m afraid you won’t be let back in.”
Jill nodded, barely listening. What did she care about court? Grandma had spoken. Words. Awake and on purpose.
Grandma, who was shaking. Jill looked around, spotted a bench, and then nudged Grandma to sit on it. Jill wanted to fully get her out of here, but she needed Grandma to be a little steadier to walk across the parking lot.
Grandma’s eyes were bright. She clutched her purse so hard her knuckles were white. She didn’t look at Jill. She just stared straight ahead, rocking a little bit, as if to comfort herself.
“Grandma…” Jill looked down at this woman who grew more a mystery to her every day. “You spoke.” It was a silly thing to say, but Jill couldn’t come up with anything else.
For her whole life, her grandmother had never uttered even a word—except the last few weeks in sleep.
Today, Glenda had stood up in court and called Benjamin Bennet a liar. Out loud.
Grandma shook her head, like it was denial. But there was no denying it. Jill had heard it. Seen it. Everyone in that courtroom had.
“You can talk, Grandma,” Jill said, emotion clogging her throat, and she didn’t even know what that emotion was. Too complex. Too much on top of everything Benjamin Bennet was claiming in that courtroom.
Grandma closed her eyes. One single tear fell over onto her cheek, trailed down. Jill had to fight back her own tears. She had to be the one in charge here.
“He lies,” Grandma rasped.
She opened her eyes, met Jill’s gaze for the first time since she’d spoken. She opened her mouth again, but no sounds, no words came out.
Jill thought Grandma was trying maybe but couldn’t get her brain and mouth to be on the same page. So Jill focused on the thing that had somehow … somehow gotten through Grandma’s traumatic muteness. The first thing in over thirty years, far as Jill knew.
Benjamin Bennet’s lies.
“Can you prove it?” Jill asked. “That he’s lying. With or without talking, can you prove it, Grandma?”
Grandma just shook her head while more tears fell onto her cheeks.
And no more sounds came out of her mouth.
*
Landon was crammed into some little meeting space in the courthouse with not just his family and Sam, but Mr. Vanderbilt and Detective Hayes.
This was clearly damage control. But in these first few moments after court had adjourned and they’d come together, no one seemed to know what to say.
Landon took it upon himself. “Where do we go from here?”
The lawyer didn’t meet his gaze, but he was clearly thinking it through. And had no answers.
Cal sank into one of the empty chairs. “It’s what I expected and yet … it never occurred to me he would … I just thought he’d try to paint Mom as unstable. Not mount a self-defense or … self-harm. The physical evidence doesn’t support self-harm.”
Landon held on to that. But he understood enough of everything that had happened that the jury was not made of scientists. They didn’t have to follow the evidence if it didn’t feel right.
And boy did Benjamin Bennet know how to use that.
“The pregnancy wasn’t out of wedlock,” Sam was saying.
“You can still introduce evidence. Introduce Bo’s DNA.
Screw Marie’s medical records. That proves his story is full of shit right there.
The DNA results haven’t come back on the public site yet, that I know of, but the DNA from when he was a kid—”
“Yeah, there’s a problem with that,” Detective Hayes said.
Everyone’s gaze turned to him.
“Bowman Lake will not consent to have his DNA be introduced as evidence in this case. Any public databases where it was have all been wiped. Sometime last week, he made sure no one could access his DNA.”
How the hell was this all unraveling?
“We’ll work on a subpoena,” Hayes continued. “We’ll work on forcing the matter from a legal standpoint, but it’ll take some time.”
“We’ll get a stay of proceedings,” Cal said, looking at the lawyer. “Until the appropriate evidence can be gathered.”
Mr. Vanderbilt didn’t look at Cal. He sat behind his desk, methodically tapping each finger across his notebook.
“You’ll get a stay,” Cal said again.
The lawyer’s eyes finally moved to Cal. “Self-defense is still a weak defense. Maybe the jury won’t go for the sentencing we were hoping for, but not guilty? I don’t see that going down.”
“You’re going to let him walk because you can get a smaller conviction?” Cal said incredulously.
The lawyer only looked at Cal with something like disapproval in his eyes. “Mr. Bennet, you know better than most how these things go.”
“He’s a fucking murderer,” Nate said. A barely leashed fury in his words that Landon felt himself.
The lawyer’s sigh was tired. Irritated. “And, ideally, the case we built will support that. I’ll get my cross-examination of Ben tomorrow. We’ll see if we can poke some holes in his story with said evidence. This is hardly a foregone conclusion. We shouldn’t overreact.”
The lawyer got to his feet. “I’m going to go back to my office, work on these new pieces of information.
We’ve still got a lot of defense to go. I can rebuttal.
If you can get this … Bowman Lake here to testify, I’ll call him up.
If you can get his DNA in time, I’ll introduce it.
But there’s no point staying this case, drawing it out.
It’s clear Bennet killed Marie. We’re just down to arguing years doing time. ”
Landon didn’t know if everyone was as stunned silent as he was, but he didn’t have words.
The lawyer thought years didn’t matter. That the best punishment they could get was good enough.
Which meant, Dad could be out … hell, next year if it all went down badly enough.
The lawyer left the room, and the detective started to follow him. Hayes hesitated at the door. “Look, it might feel wrong, but Vanderbilt’s right. I can’t believe a jury is going to swallow that load of horse shit.”
But Landon could. Because he’d swallowed it for fifteen years. So had Aly. And most of the damn town. Benjamin Bennet knew how to twist a situation to suit him.
Which meant … Landon wanted to reject the thought, but they had to be practical. Bo wasn’t coming back. The lawyer wasn’t staying the trial.
“I think we need to start planning for what happens if he gets out,” Landon said.
As much as he didn’t want to deal with this eventuality, it felt more and more possible. And they had to know how they were going to handle it. How they were going to fight Ben Bennet.
Together this time.
“Let’s not jump the gun,” Cal said. He was sitting in the chair, looking laser focused.
Like a different man. The man he’d been once upon a time. The slick, with-it lawyer who breezed into town with a few well-placed barbs and then out again.
It was the first time in his life Landon was glad to see it.
Cal rubbed a hand over his chin, then lifted his gaze to Sam. Moved it to Aly. “Did anyone notice when Dad was the most agitated on the stand? When the mask started to slip?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “When he talked about me.”
Cal nodded at Sam. “He couldn’t quite hide how much he hated you. And sure, it makes sense. Why wouldn’t he?”
“Good,” Sam muttered.
“He paled when Glenda spoke. He hates Sam. He hates Glenda, too, but he’s afraid of her.
Something about a woman getting up there and undercutting him really gets under his skin.
” Cal’s gaze moved to Aly, and Landon had to tense his muscles to keep from standing in front of her, protecting her from whatever this was.
“Vanderbilt gets a rebuttal. He can bring in witnesses, bring back witnesses. Fuck Bo and his DNA. We don’t need him.”
“You sure about that?”
Cal met Nate’s gaze. “No. Not sure. But I have an idea. They’re going to bring more witnesses to support what a great guy Dad was. They’ve no doubt found plenty. But when Vanderbilt gets his rebuttal, he brings Aly back up.”
“I wasn’t any help the first time,” Aly said miserably, and Landon took her hand in his.
“This time, we’ll have you talk about the nature of Ben’s relationship with Sandy.”
“But he didn’t kill Sandy,” Sam said quietly. “What’s that got to do with anything? Wheeler won’t let her talk about that if it doesn’t have to do with the case.”
“They’ll be bringing character witnesses.
This is just a character witness. Because we know Dad liked to fight with Sandy.
Aly saw it. Lived it. He liked moving her into that house even though his kids disapproved.
Even if Wheeler blocks some of that, it’s not about the testimony itself, it’s about how mad Dad will be that you’ve spoken against him.
You were supposed to be grateful he took you in, Aly, and now you’ll be speaking against him. It’ll piss him off.”
Landon hated the idea of Aly being the target of Ben’s rage, but Cal kept talking.
“And then we bring in Sam. Someone he’s hated since she was a teenager.
She’ll testify about what Bo told her, what he hired her for, and what Glenda told us about his true parentage.
It plants a seed in the jury’s head that maybe he’s a liar, or someone is, but more importantly, it pisses Dad off.
High and mighty Samantha Price trying to undercut his story?
No, he won’t like that. Maybe he cracks then. ”
Landon watched as Cal clearly came up with the plan. He’d never doubted his brother was good at being a lawyer, but now he was seeing it firsthand, and after watching Cal seemingly fall apart for the past six months, this was somehow a small positive in this whole shit show.
Cal back to himself.
“If he doesn’t, we twist the knife,” Cal said firmly. “We end it with Glenda.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be up to testifying just because she finally … spoke,” Aly said gently, clearly with some regret.
“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll have Jill read Glenda’s statements out loud if she can’t speak.
None of this the jury reading handouts bullshit.
Ben’s going to sit there and listen to a woman undercut every lie he’s told.
Because a parade of women slowly proving his story false—whether the jury believes it or not—chips away at his control.
And if he explodes, that’s all we need. It proves who he is.
That’s all we need. To undercut his little act. ”
Landon looked down at Aly. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking or feeling about this, until she lifted her gaze to his. Determined, chin raised.
If she was determined, Landon was all in.
He turned to his brother. “Will Vanderbilt go for it?”
Cal’s gaze was hard and sharp. “He fucking better.”