Kept

“And where did Judge Paxton go while you freshened up?” He had a sarcastic tone to his voice.

“I don't know. He didn't say. But I assume he went home.”

“You assume?”

I tried to breathe. I looked over to the jury and I could tell one older woman was assessing me. She was trying to decide if I was being truthful. It was terrifying.

“Miss Hart?”

“I’m sorry. Yes. He had mentioned wanting to relax at home. Like I said, he didn't mention his wife.”

“Right. Why would he want to relax?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think he wanted to take something to relax?”

The plan was set perfectly, just as Monique had said at the club. She was better at this than I had given her credit for. “You mean, like a pill?” I looked at the wife, her skin was turning red. She knew what I was doing.

“Yes, some type of medication.”

His wife continued to stare me down. I could see her blood was boiling.

“I would ask his pharmacist that. Or his wife. Not me. I wouldn’t know.”

Suddenly, the wife stood up from the defense table, “Of course you would, you little bitch! You knew he wanted to sleep with you! You knew it! You’re just like all the rest. I couldn’t let it go on!”

The whole courtroom gasped at her admission of guilt. It wasn’t a smoking gun, but it was enough. Monique had been right; set off the wife, and I would be in the clear.

“Order, order in the court! Mr. Defasy, I suggest you contain your client.”

The defense lawyer stood calmly. “Yes, your Honor, I apologize for her outburst.”

The wife sat back down, but it was clear that she was the one who had ended Judge Paxton's life. She had had enough of his call girls, and I just happened to be the unlucky soul that was with him the night she ended it. Monique had heard at the club that he took Viagra on occasion, even though he wasn’t currently sleeping with any of the girls. The wife had switched the pill. We knew it. It was her fault.

The lawyer from the District Attorney's Office turned on me once more, but his questions lightened up significantly. “When was the last time you spoke to Judge Paxton?”

“At the bar. When we made plans to meet at his hotel room.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hart.” He turned to address the judge. “The prosecution rests, your Honor.”

The defense didn't even cross-examine me. The lawyer knew that he couldn't win the case, and he requested a recess instead. As Monique and I walked out of the courthouse, I assumed he was talking to his client about cutting a deal. She had no other way out. I was free.

The media didn’t even notice me leave.

No questions about the club.

My secret was safe.

Nineteen

I sat on the floor in front of Alexis watching the news just a few hours later. The reporters had been right the entire time; Mrs. Paxton was to blame. She poisoned her husband in her home when he stopped there after going to the club. According to all the news reporters she was a murderer and I was off the hook. I felt sorry for the judge; he had seemed like such a nice gentleman. I really didn’t even think she had anything to worry about.

But I was safe, at least for now. I still had to face the fact that Hudson working for some type of pharmaceutical mob, and that they could come after me at any moment, but I trusted Monique that my connections would keep me safe. I still didn't understand how Hudson could think that turning me over to the police would keep me safe, but, somewhere deep down, I believed that he thought it was the only way. Like maybe if he hadn’t made me so angry, and if I hadn’t left France so quickly, that they would've come after me. They would've known how much he cared about me. Alexis sat behind me on the couch, braiding my hair, and it was comforting.

“So, it's over. You’re in the clear.”

I wanted to nod, but I knew it would hurt with her fingers through my hair, so I didn't. “Yup, it's over.”