Born, Darkly (Darkly, Madly 1)

The judge looks at Hatcher expectantly.

“Dr. Noble provided the speculated reasoning as to the murder, but not the mutilation, Your Honor. In my opinion—”

“Careful, counselor,” the judge warns.

“It’s been stated the defendant killed his wife to eliminate the threat of government conspiracy,” he revises. “However, I only aim to uncover why, then, the need for overkill.”

Judge Gellar considers his rebuttal, then nods. “Proceed carefully, Mr. Hatcher.”

He again focuses his piercing eyes on me. “Do I need to elaborate?”

Back pain is enough to bring the strongest person to their knees. Me? I get temperamental when in the middle of a flare-up. “I was able to follow, thank you. What you see on the screen does resemble overkill, that which can be construed as a crime of passion.”

“Exactly,” the lawyer says. “A crime of passion.” He turns and states this to the jury.

“However,” I continue, undeterred. “I analyzed Charles Reker for over a period of a month before I was able to clearly decipher the why. He was looking for proof.”

Hatcher tilts his head. “Proof?”

“Yes. He was searching for the computer chip that transmitted his information to the government. During his search, he was apprehended by the police.”

“His search?” He props one hand on his hip and marches to the screen. The lawyer has studied too many courtroom movies. “You’re telling me that this—” he points to the charred, flayed skin hanging from the victim’s bones “—was also a part of his delusion? That Charles Reker sliced and stabbed his wife more than thirty times all for a chip?”

“Yes.”

“Dr. Noble. I’m sorry, but to me, and probably to everyone else in the courtroom, this looks like the violent, destructive crime of an enraged man. A man furious with his cheating wife.” He nods to the jury. “As we proved beforehand.”

“Objection,” the defense says. “Counsel is testifying, Your Honor.”

“Sustained. Ask a question, Mr. Hatcher, or wrap it up.”

Incensed, the lawyer approaches the witness stand. “Did you, at all, factor Mrs. Reker’s affair into your evaluation? How such a painful betrayal from a wife of over twenty years could push an already unhinged man over the edge?”

I stare into his eyes. “I did.”

His head jerks back, arms thrown wide. “Care to share, doctor?”

“Are you afraid of your wife, Mr. Hatcher?”

My challenging question knocks the smirk off his face. “Excuse me?”

“Your wife—” I nod to his hand that displays a gold wedding band “—are you fearful for your life when she discovers your affair with your paralegal?” I glance at the blonde seated at the prosecution’s table. “Because, according to your provoking argument of Mr. Reker, you should be downright terrified.”

A collective gasp rolls through the courtroom.

His lips curl in irritation, but he does a fantastic job at schooling the rest of his features. “Other than this being a blatant attempt to shift the focus of this trial, your assessment couldn’t be more off base, Dr. Noble. Which should prove psychology is hardly credible in a murder case.”

“When you first entered the courtroom,” I say, lifting my chin. “You guided your paralegal to the table by the small of her back.” He starts to interrupt, and I hold up a finger. “Which can be excused as simple old-school chivalry. Disturbing, but excusable. However, you don’t have to be a psychologist to detect your affair; anyone in this courtroom can spot the obvious signs. Your paralegal has a tan line where her wedding ring should be. You’ve been spinning your ring during the trial. Each time you spin it, you then check your phone. Which could be a nervous habit, but our subconscious gives away that which we most want to hide.”

The lawyer looks to the judge. “Your Honor, you can’t allow this—”

“You opened the door, Mr. Hatcher.” Judge Gellar lifts her shoulders in an unapologetic shrug.

“Also,” I continue. “The whole time you’ve been questioning me, your paralegal has been intermittently checking your phone herself.” He turns around to look. “I suspect that you’re both waiting for a reply from your wife. A possible confirmation that you’ll be able to spend a prolonged period of time together.”

The blonde flinches when Hatcher’s phone vibrates on the table.

Judge Gellar sighs. “Want to check your messages, Mr. Hatcher?”