Chapter Forty-six
Maggie adjusted the cuffs of her tailored coat as she stepped into the county courthouse. The hallways were crowded with lawyers in pressed suits, clerks with stacks of files, and a few familiar faces from Halibut Cove who had undoubtedly come to witness the proceedings.
Beside her, Audrey walked with quiet determination, her shoulders squared, her chin lifted. Maggie squeezed her granddaughter’s arm reassuringly, though she could tell Audrey’s mind was elsewhere—likely replaying every terrifying moment from her kidnapping.
They entered the courtroom, finding seats in the front row, and settled in for the show.
Bradley Comstock was led into the courtroom in an orange jumpsuit, his wrists shackled together, his expression a mask of cool detachment.
Maggie took a long, satisfied breath.
He wasn’t so smug now.
The defense attorney leaned toward him, whispering something. Bradley’s eyes flickered with irritation, and when he saw Maggie and Audrey sitting front and center, his face darkened with anger.
He turned to his lawyer and muttered something sharply, but the attorney only sighed and shook his head.
“It’s a public courtroom,” the lawyer said in a low, exasperated voice. “They have every right to be here.”
Bradley’s eyes narrowed.
Maggie smirked.
Judge Marla Baxley, a no-nonsense woman with silver-streaked hair pulled into a tight bun, took her seat at the bench and banged her gavel once, calling the court to order.
“Case Number 24-7859,” the bailiff announced. “The State of Maine versus Bradley Comstock.”
Bradley’s lawyer stood. “Your Honor, my client pleads not guilty to all charges.”
A murmur rippled through the courtroom.
Maggie leaned toward Audrey and whispered. “He still thinks he can weasel his way out of this.”
Audrey frowned. “Typical.”
Mark Haskell, the district attorney, rose from his chair. “Your Honor, given the severity of the charges—two counts of first-degree murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, and conspiracy—the state is seeking a substantial bail amount for the defendant, if not a denial of bail altogether.”
Bradley’s lawyer shot to his feet, adjusting his tie. “Your Honor, my client is a pillar of the community—a well-respected dentist, a business owner. He has deep ties to Halibut Cove and is no flight risk.”
Judge Baxley’s brows lifted slightly, unimpressed with the defense’s argument.
Mark scoffed. “Not a flight risk?” He turned to the judge. “Your Honor, the defendant was literally on the run when he was apprehended—after taking a hostage. That alone should be enough to deny bail outright.”
The judge adjusted her glasses, flipping through the case file. “I agree with the prosecution,” she said firmly. “Bail is set at two million dollars.”
The gasp that rippled through the room was almost satisfying.
Bradley stiffened, his cool composure cracking ever so slightly. He turned to glare at Mark, but the DA merely folded his arms, satisfied.
Maggie smiled.
This was going exactly as it should.
As the courtroom began to empty, Bradley remained seated, his lawyer whispering furiously in his ear. Jill entered and approached, hands on her hips, her badge gleaming in the fluorescent lights.
Bradley smirked, though it was far weaker than before.
“Chief Holbrook,” he drawled, his voice still clinging to some false confidence. “Here to pin more imaginary crimes on me?”
Jill didn’t blink. “Oh, they’re not imaginary, Comstock.”
Bradley chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re blaming me for everything, but Jimmy was the one who poisoned Chips Hogan. Jimmy was the one who drugged Griffin Mead and pushed him into the water. I had nothing to do with any of it.”
Jill leaned in slightly, her voice cold as steel.
“Jimmy was your pawn. You played him like a fool, but he’s not the one who masterminded this whole revenge plot.
” She tilted her head, watching Bradley’s reaction.
“You gave Jimmy the nightshade you stole from Melanie. You planted the belladonna plant in Waldo Duggan’s pantry to frame him.
You fed Jimmy every lie in the book to make him do your dirty work. ”
Bradley stayed silent, his expression unreadable.
Maggie stepped forward, arms crossed. “You’ve been obsessed with revenge for years, haven’t you? Blaming Chips, Griffin, and my late husband, Wes, for your father’s failures.”
Bradley finally turned toward her, and for the first time, there was real hatred in his eyes.
“You think this is funny, Mrs. Holbrook?” he said, his voice low and full of venom.
Maggie tilted her head, unbothered. “Not funny. Sad.”
She could see it now—the desperation, the years of resentment, the way he’d spent decades fueling his hatred, all for this moment.
And now, it was over.
“You must be disappointed,” Maggie continued, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “I survived.”
Bradley’s lip curled, his fingers clenching into fists.
Audrey leaned in, voice sharp as glass. “Oh, and by the way, Jimmy took a plea deal. He’s going to be the star witness against you at your trial.”
For the first time, Bradley faltered. His eyes flickered, his cheeks paling slightly.
Jill nodded slowly, enjoying the moment. “That’s right. Jimmy agreed to testify about everything. The nightshade. The Clonidine. The kidnapping. All of it.”
“I’ll be taking the stand too,” Audrey said sharply. “Recounting my whole ordeal with you.”
“You’re no victim!” Bradley spit out. “You were obsessed with me—always snooping, following me around, basically stalking me!”
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to see who the jury believes,” Audrey said with a confident smile.
Maggie watched with satisfaction as Bradley’s mask slipped entirely.
He knew.
He knew he was done for.
As they exited the courthouse, Maggie held her head high, breathing in the crisp autumn air.
Audrey grinned at her. “Well, that was satisfying.”
Maggie chuckled, linking arms with her granddaughter. “The only thing that would’ve made it better is if they gave me five minutes alone with him and a rolling pin.”
Audrey laughed. “Mom would’ve arrested you.”
“Totally worth it.”
“I thought you said violence was never the answer.”
“It’s not. But I can dream, can’t I?”
Jill joined them, hands on her hips. “We’ve still got a long road ahead,” she said. “The trial. The sentencing. But one thing’s for sure …”
Maggie smiled knowingly. “Bradley Comstock is never going to see the outside of a prison cell again.”
And with that, they walked down the courthouse steps—one battle-scarred family, but stronger than ever.