Chapter Thirty-three
Audrey was halfway down the stairs when the doorbell rang, the sharp sound echoing through the house. She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to answer it or let Cord handle it. Before she could make up her mind, she heard Cord’s voice from the entryway.
“Phoebe,” he said, his tone warmer than she’d expected.
Audrey paused, her feet still on the stairs, trying to catch the words.
“Hey, I just want to say, I’m really sorry about what’s happening with your family,” Cord continued.
Phoebe’s reply was cool and distant. “I appreciate that, Cord. Thank you.”
Audrey frowned, feeling the tension in the air.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from the conversation, but it seemed clear that Phoebe was still hurt by the accusations Cord had made about her being a gold digger.
She could hear the frustration in Phoebe’s voice, the sting still fresh.
Audrey couldn’t believe she had gone from one of Phoebe’s main detractors to now her staunchest cheerleader in the span of a few days.
“I was wrong, Phoebe,” Cord said, sounding almost apologetic. “I’m sorry. I was too quick to judge. I—I shouldn’t have assumed what I did about you.”
Audrey stepped down a few more steps, still out of sight but close enough to hear the exchange clearly.
“I’m not here to talk to you, Cord,” Phoebe said sharply. “I’m here to see Audrey.”
Audrey could hear Cord’s breath catch, a slight tension in his voice as he said, “Fine. I understand.” He sighed before adding, “Just know that I do regret how things went between us, Phoebe. I really do.”
Phoebe nodded, keeping her emotions in check.
Cord turned toward the staircase and called up. “Audrey! Someone’s here to see you!” He turned back to Phoebe. “I better go. Ma’s waiting for me to pick her up at the hairdresser’s. See you later?”
Phoebe just shrugged, refusing eye contact.
There was a moment of silence before Cord turned to leave, his footsteps growing fainter as he headed out the door.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Audrey took a breath and descended the last few steps, smoothing her shirt as she came into view.
Phoebe was standing by the door, her arms folded tightly across her chest. There was a wariness in her eyes but also a tiredness, like someone who had been holding it all together for too long.
“Hey,” Audrey greeted her gently.
Phoebe didn’t smile, but her eyes softened.
“Hey. I—Uh, I need you to come with me to the arraignment. I don’t want to go alone, and I don’t feel comfortable going with Evan.
He’s … unpredictable … and volatile … Sometimes I’m scared of how he reacts.
You seem to be the only one who can keep me calm. ”
Audrey nodded. “Of course I’ll go with you. You’re not alone in this.”
Phoebe’s posture seemed to relax slightly, the tension lifting just enough for Audrey to see the strain in her face. “Thanks. I can’t do this without someone I trust.”
As they stepped outside, they were met with the rumbling sound of a truck engine approaching. Audrey glanced toward the driveway just in time to see Sandy’s truck pulling to a stop, his truck bed bouncing slightly as it came to a halt.
Sandy rolled down his window and waved. “Cord still inside?”
“He went to pick up Maggie from the hairdresser,” Phoebe replied, offering a polite smile. “He’ll be back soon.”
There was an awkward pause. Sandy shifted in his seat, glancing from Audrey to Phoebe, his brow furrowing slightly.
Phoebe cleared her throat, then turned to him.
“Sandy, I—Uh, I owe you an apology. I was out of line before. I wasn’t thinking straight.
I’ve always gotten positive attention from men, and when it hit me that I was settling down, the weight of all that, my whole life changing, well, I just panicked.
I needed validation, and I went about it in the wrong way.
I chose the completely wrong person to flirt with.
It was stupid and thoughtless, and I really hope you can someday forgive me. ”
Sandy let out a slow sigh, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting Phoebe’s eyes again. “I accept your apology, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still rattled by it, Phoebe. It was … a lot.”
Phoebe nodded, her face filled with regret. “I get that. I’m sorry for making things so … complicated.”
After a long, uncomfortable moment, Sandy muttered something about needing to find Cord so they could head out for lobstering, his voice still a bit tight. “I’ll be around when Cord gets back. See ya, ladies.”
With that, Sandy started the truck and drove off, leaving a tense silence behind him. Phoebe let out a breath, her shoulders drooping as if she were trying to shake off the weight of everything.
“You okay?” Audrey asked, giving Phoebe a concerned glance.
Phoebe nodded slowly, her eyes distant. “I will be. Just … everything’s falling apart, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
They got into Audrey’s car and drove to the courthouse in silence.
It wasn’t a long drive, but every mile seemed to carry more weight.
When they arrived, the place was alive with activity.
The usual courthouse hustle and bustle was heightened today, with whispers floating around about the latest high-profile case.
First Clyde Peterson.
Then Waldo Duggan.
Now Bert and Rhonda Barker.
The usually sleepy town of Halibut Cove was reeling from all the drama.
Audrey’s stomach tightened as they entered the building. As they walked through the crowded hall, Audrey’s eyes scanned the crowd for familiar faces. That’s when she spotted her uncle Oliver, standing near the entrance to the courtroom, his voice low as he spoke with Bert and Rhonda.
Phoebe stopped dead in her tracks, her face pale as she whispered, “Is that your uncle … is he …?”
Audrey nodded, just as surprised as Phoebe. “I guess he’s your lawyer.”
Phoebe swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”
Inside the courtroom, the tension was palpable.
The judge sat at the bench, his eyes scanning through the papers in front of him.
On one side, the prosecutor, Mark Haskell, looked every bit the part of a seasoned litigator.
Across from him, Oliver was calm, confident, his posture relaxed despite the gravity of the situation.
“Your Honor, we ask for the highest possible bail, given the severity of the crime,” Prosecutor Haskell said, his voice firm. “The defendant, Mr. Bert Barker, is accused of the murder of Billy Sawyer, and the evidence against him is overwhelming.”
Oliver stood, his hand resting lightly on the table as he spoke.
“Your Honor, we’re requesting a reasonable bail, considering that Mr. Barker and his wife, Mrs. Rhonda Barker, are law-abiding citizens with no criminal history.
This was a clear case of self-defense. The allegations that have been made against them are rooted in misunderstandings from over thirty years ago. ”
The judge nodded slowly, tapping his gavel lightly. “I’ve heard the arguments. Given the nature of the charges, I will set bail at $250,000 for each defendant.”
Bert and Rhonda exchanged a tense look, but they nodded in acceptance. Rhonda reached over and squeezed Bert’s hand, her fingers trembling.
“Bert, we’ll need to post bail as soon as possible,” she whispered. “It will wipe out our life savings, but we can’t afford to stay here any longer than necessary.”
Bert’s face tightened, and he turned to his scowling son who was seated directly behind them in the gallery. “Evan, go to the bank. Get a cashier’s check. Hopefully we’ll be home in time for supper.”
Evan narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “I don’t trust Holbrook defending you. What if he tries to talk you into taking a plea deal?”
“Just go,” Bert said, his voice sharp. “Oliver’s the best lawyer in the county, if not the entire state. He knows what he’s doing.”
“Dad …” Evan mumbled.
Bert snapped. “You’ll go get the damn check, Evan. Now.”
Evan grumbled but didn’t argue. He stormed out of the courtroom, his footsteps heavy with frustration.
Audrey sat two rows back in the gallery, watching the exchange with growing concern.
Beside her, Phoebe shifted anxiously in her seat, her hand twitching toward her purse.
Neither of them spoke, but their eyes followed every movement like hawks.
When the judge adjourned, Audrey stood and gently nudged Phoebe forward.
Oliver turned to Bert and Rhonda. “We’ll meet in the conference room to discuss strategy. You two need to be prepared for what comes next.”
As they walked into the hallway, Audrey and Phoebe fell into step behind them, silent shadows as the group moved toward the conference room. Phoebe glanced nervously at Audrey, but Audrey kept her focus locked on Oliver’s back.
The group passed Clyde Peterson, who seemed unusually nervous.
He was standing by a pillar, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. “Oliver,” Clyde said, his voice strained.
“Are you sure about taking on another case? You’ve already got a lot on your plate with Waldo Duggan’s case.
You’re not spreading yourself too thin, are you? ”
Oliver gave him a patient smile. “Clyde, I’ve been doing this long enough to know how to balance my cases. Don’t worry about me. I can handle it.”
But Clyde wasn’t convinced. “I’m just saying, if you don’t focus, you’re going to miss something important, and that could cost us both.”
“I’m handling it, Clyde,” Oliver said firmly, brushing past him. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll call you later.”
Clyde grabbed him by the coat sleeve, stopping him. “You’re distracted, and that’s making me very nervous.”
Oliver glared at Clyde. “I said I’m handling it. If you don’t like it, get another lawyer.”
It was a standoff, the two men staring each other down. Clyde blinked first, threw his hands in the air, and stalked off.
As Oliver led Bert and Rhonda into the conference room, Audrey and Phoebe followed close behind. Once everyone was inside, Oliver closed the door, and the mood shifted. There was no more small talk.
“Now,” Oliver began, sitting at the head of the table. “We need to discuss the self-defense strategy. First, we need to establish that there were no witnesses that night. Were there?”
Bert and Rhonda exchanged a tense glance before Bert answered. “No. There was no one else there.”
Oliver quickly picked up on it. “What? What are you not telling me?”
“No one else was there,” Bert assured him.
Audrey, unable to help herself, spoke up. “What about Griffin Mead?”
Bert stiffened. “What about him?”
Oliver turned to look at Audrey, then back to Bert. “Was Griffin there?”
Bert shook his head.
Rhonda just looked down at her lap.
Bert’s eyes flickered nervously. “No, he wasn’t.”
Audrey piped in again. “But Lou Grady said in his article about the case—”
Bert abruptly cut her off. “Lou Grady got it wrong. Griffin wasn’t there.”
Rhonda’s face was drained of color. She let out a shaky breath, her hands wringing in her lap.
“Rhonda?” Oliver pressed gently.
With a sob, Rhonda finally spoke. “Griffin was there that night. He worked for Daddy. He might have seen something, but he never came forward. Daddy—he either paid him off or threatened to fire him in order to keep him quiet.”
Oliver’s face darkened as he processed this new information. “This is bad,” he muttered. “Griffin Mead was a key witness. And now he’s dead. Murdered. If the prosecutor gets ahold of this, it’s going to look like you silenced the one person who could have testified against you.”
Rhonda gasped, her hands trembling. “No. No, we didn’t …”
Oliver placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “We’ll do everything we can. But we need to prepare ourselves for what comes next.”
Phoebe’s face crumpled as she turned to Audrey, eyes filled with panic. “What do we do now?”
Audrey didn’t have an answer, but she squeezed Phoebe’s hand gently. “We fight. Oliver will do everything he can to protect you.”
But even Audrey couldn’t shake the feeling that things were slipping away faster than they could catch them.