Kept

“We’d like to call Calla Hart to the stand, please.”

Monique whispered, “Follow the plan.”

I stood and straightened my skirt before crossing in front of Monique and walking up the aisle onto the stand. I had never been so terrified in my entire life.

As I passed Mrs. Paxton she gave me a steely glare. So she hadn’t known who I was in the bathroom, she wasn’t playing dumb.

“Please state your name for the court records.”

“Calla Elizabeth Hart.” My palms were sweaty. I looked to Monique for a surge of confidence but I couldn’t find her in the crowd.

The lawyer stood in front of me in a black suit with a dark gold tie around his neck. He was in his late twenties, and I was surprised that someone so young worked for the District Attorney's Office.

“Ms. Hart, can you please explain to the court how are you knew Judge Paxton?”

“Yes. I actually didn't know him very well. We had only just met.”

I heard the wife mumble, “liar,” under her breath. She wasn’t going to make this easy on me.

“And did you know who he was?”

“Not really. He had told me his line of work

, but that's all I was really privy to.”

He put his hands behind his back, and walked back and forth in front of me. Monique had warned me that this was a scare tactic, and I was to remain calm. “So, you knew he was a judge?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Did he tell you he was married?”

I shook my head. “No, he didn't mention that.”

He stopped right in front of me, and looked me in the eye. “Were you going to have relations with him that evening?”

I didn't know how to respond. Monique hadn’t mentioned that question. “I don't know. I don't think so. He invited me up to his room to talk after we met at the bar. I don't think that his intentions were to get me in bed.”

Mrs. Paxton shook her head. I could tell she didn’t believe me.

“But he didn't tell you about his wife?”

“No. He didn't mention her, as I've already stated.”

He nodded, and then turned away for me again, walking over to the table where he had been sitting. “Can you tell me why he wrote a check for four thousand dollars that evening?”

My breath caught in my chest. Monique had said the money was untraceable; no one would have known that I was paid. But this guy sure as hell sounded like he knew he was talking about.

“No. I don't know why he wrote a check for that amount of money, or to whom he wrote it. We didn't talk about money.”

That wasn’t a lie, per se.

He made a face. “You’re sure? You have no idea when he wrote that check?”

I shook my head. “Definitely not. I mean we had a tab at the bar, but it couldn’t have been even close to that much.” I tried to act like I wasn’t sure, confused even. The lawyer moved on.

“There was a time when the two of you weren't together. Why is that?”

This one I was prepared for. “He invited me up to his hotel room, but I wanted to freshen up first. We had been in a smoky bar, and I smelled terrible. I went home to change, and he sent a town car for me. Then, I went to the room and I waited.”