The avuncular comment had her shrugging. “Tell that to the workload. When it eases up, I will, too.”
“The work is always gonna be there, Ms. Wellington. Always.”
As much as she’d earned a bit more fun, she’d never resented the work or viewed it as a bad thing. Work meant money, and money meant freedom. And if she didn’t have time to spend her money, then so be it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The good humor of the moment quickly passed as she moved through the throng of people toward the elevators. She had a half hour before court, which was time enough to talk to Levi, who’d requested another meeting.
She found the prosecutor in the conference room. He sat at the head of the table, his head bent over an open case file. He made quick, abrupt notes with his left hand. A line furrowed his brow.
“Levi,” she said. “You wanted to meet before court.”
He glanced up, and smoothing his hand down his red tie, he rose and pulled out a chair for her. “Glad you could meet me.”
The soft scent of his aftershave wafted around him. As always, he was impeccably dressed in hand-tailored suits that drew attention to his lean waist. She’d heard he was a bit of a gym rat, but seeing as she’d never set foot in a gym, their paths weren’t likely ever to cross.
She leaned back in her chair, noting the way the hard back dug into her spine. “What do you have?”
“Involuntary manslaughter. She serves four years.”
Charlotte was shocked by such a generous deal. “My client doesn’t want any deals.”
“This is a great deal and can end this now.”
“It is over. The jury is back.”
“Take the deal, and we both win.”
“My client loses four years of her life.” Levi was a tough nut, and for him to cave was surprising. “She’s made it clear. No deal.”
He knitted his fingers and leaned forward. “Charlotte, I’m not trying to be a hard ass. I feel for this woman. I don’t want to see her suffer any more than you do.”
“You sure tried to put her away.”
“That’s my job. And believe me, I did not enjoy it.”
It was a good deal. “Let me place a call to the bailiff.” She dialed and within minutes was on the phone with Samantha. As she suspected, the woman turned it down.
Charlotte turned off her phone. “She says no.”
“You both could regret this.”
“I don’t think so. See you in court.” The butterflies churning her stomach had her glancing at her watch as she moved down the hallway. She had fifteen minutes to show time.
Show time.
Funny she could think of court like show time. That was the term her mother had used as she’d left for her carnival shows.
“Mom, you look tired.”
Mom finished underlining her right eye. “Really? I’m feeling great, kiddo.”
“Can’t you take a night off ? We can watch a movie and eat popcorn. We’ve not done that in a long time.”
“Kiddo, Momma can’t say no to work because work is what keeps us together.”
“One night won’t make a difference.”
“One night leads to two nights, and then before you know it, you’re out of a job. I’ll work until the day I die.”
Until the day I die.
She’d suffered her stroke two weeks later.
Charlotte pushed through the double doors of the courtroom and moved to the defense table. The next few minutes moved along on a steady predictable course. The bailiff arrived. Deputies escorted in Samantha White, who took her seat by Charlotte. Levi took his seat. The courtroom filled, the jury took their seats, and the judge arrived.
Judge Winston Lawless struck his gavel against his bench and announced court proceedings to begin. Black robes broadened the appearance of his shoulders and accentuated dark hair combed back from stern features. In his late forties, he’d earned a reputation as a hard-ass.
Charlotte’s back was to the courtroom door, but without turning, she knew the instant Rokov arrived. She couldn’t say how she knew, only that the energy in the room had changed. It felt more charged, almost as if it buzzed with force.
Charlotte kept her expression neutral, and she did not dare turn and look to confirm his arrival. But the muscles in her body tensed, and she kept aligning her pencil with her yellow legal pad.
“Will the defendant rise?”
Charlotte and Samantha rose. Samantha dared a glance back, searching for her mother, who had returned from the beach but had not come to the courthouse for the verdict. Carefully, she smoothed the wrinkles from her prison jumpsuit.
Charlotte took her hand and squeezed it.
“Members of the jury,” the judge said. “Have you reached a verdict?”
A short man with graying hair and a red tie stood. “We have, Your Honor.” The foreman handed a slip of paper to the bailiff.
The judge received the paper and read it. He frowned, nodded. “What is your verdict?”
“On the count of arson, we the jury find the defendant. . . not guilty.”
Charlotte and Samantha both remained rigid.
“And on the count of first-degree murder?” Judge Lawson said.
“We find the defendant innocent.”
As a frowning Judge Lawless read his final instructions, a whimper escaped across Samantha’s lips, and she leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. She started to weep. Charlotte tipped her head back, savoring the rush of this victory, and then wrapped her arm around her client.
“Thank you so much.” Samantha looked up at her with red watery eyes. “Thank you so much.”
Charlotte smiled, knowing she often came across as cold and unfeeling. “You are very welcome.”
“You’ve saved my life.”
Charlotte smiled. “I’m glad to have helped.”
She watched the bailiff lead Samantha away and then hurried out of the courtroom quickly. She paused briefly to talk to reporters and then hurried toward the exit.
She had just cleared the courthouse steps when she heard her name. “Wellington. I want a word with you.”
The masculine voice was rich with anger. Irritated by the rude delay more than fearful, Charlotte turned and faced the man. “Can I help you?”
Tall and thin, he wore khakis, a white shirt, and work boots. He’d slicked back his dark hair and sharply parted it on the right side.
“You can tell me why you helped that witch get free.” He closed the gap between them until he stood only inches from her.
This close, Charlotte could smell the hint of gasoline and motor oil on the man’s flannel shirt and jeans. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Lonnie White. Samantha killed my brother.”
And then she could see the resemblance. She didn’t focus much of her research on Lonnie because reports indicated he’d been living in Atlanta for the last several years. What facts she’d gathered ticked back: auto repairman, married, military service with a general discharge. Lonnie and his brother hadn’t been close. “I didn’t notice you in the courtroom during the trial.”
“I’m here now.” He weighed at least a hundred pounds more, and he was a good six inches taller. “Hell of a show you put on in there. Made Samantha look like a fucking saint.”
Ah, profanity, the language of scholars. “I’ve got better things to do than have this conversation, Mr. White.” She turned to cut around him toward the street corner, but he blocked her path.
Clenched fists hovered at his side. “She killed him because she wanted the insurance money. She looks sweet and nice, but she is evil.”
“The jury did not agree. Now, get out of my way, Mr. White.”
A muscle in his jaw clenched. “Not until you’ve heard me out, bitch.”
Her grip tightened on her briefcase. She glanced around at the crowds of people milling in front of the courthouse. “I’ve heard all I want to hear. Get out of my way.” Each word was clipped and direct.
He shook his head.
“Bitch, you made my brother look like a monster in that courtroom. He was a good decent man who worked hard and who loved his wife and kids.”
Anger egged on by impatience blurred her judgment. “He was a monster, Mr. White. He was having an affair with a woman at his office and wanted to marry her. But instead of asking for a divorce, he sealed every window in his house and then set it on fire. His plan was to burn the house down with his wife and children inside. Samantha hit him with that golf club because he stood between her and the only remaining exit out the house. Yeah, I’d say he was a hell of a great guy.”
“Whore. Bitch.”
“Get out of my way, now.”
His fists clenched tighter as he raised them. “I read about you. Too bad that guy didn’t kill you a couple of years ago. Scum like you and Samantha don’t deserve to live.”
The pure venom dripping from the words had her retrenching. Charlotte’s temper had skewed her judgment, and she’d miscalculated the danger. She took a step back but bumped into a solid wall of muscle. Strong hands settled on her shoulders and immediately moved her out of Lonnie’s reach. She didn’t have to turn to know who had her back. Rokov’s scent gave him away.
“Is there a problem here?” Rokov said.
Lonnie’s face paled with more fury. “Someone needs to teach this woman a lesson. Samantha White is not a fucking saint. She’s evil.”
Rokov’s dark sunglasses made it impossible to see his eyes, but his braced stance and hand on his hip next to his gun holster telegraphed menace. “Are you threatening Ms. Wellington?”
Lonnie’s eyes narrowed. “I ain’t making threats.”
“Then what are you doing? Looks like threats to me.”
Lonnie’s sudden grin revealed several missing teeth. “I ain’t like Samantha. I ain’t a curse on the world.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Hearing the verdict.”