Trial by Fire. Cara Putman
Her gaze swept the room. The high ceilings were inlaid with round rosettes. The jury box, witness stand, attorney tables and judge’s bench were all stained mahogany. Judge Sinclair’s attention focused on the dueling attorneys in front of her. With her chestnut hair pulled behind her ears and glasses perched on her nose, she had the air of a middle-aged librarian. Tricia had learned not to underestimate the judge’s brains or her dedication to helping women and children.
Tricia brushed past the bar separating the gallery from the action and edged through the crush of bodies to find a corner of the plaintiff’s table to stack her files. After releasing the files, she flexed her fingers and eyed the line.
Easily a dozen attorneys stood in line, some with clients. All waiting for their chance to stand in front of the judge. Tricia grabbed her first folder from the pile and quickly reviewed the file. The front sheet contained important dates and status information. Time to schedule this one for a hearing if defense counsel appeared as ordered. A quick scan of the room didn’t reveal opposing counsel, so Tricia picked up the next file.
The defendant in this case had decided his two-year-old made a good punching bag. She swallowed hard against the rush of anger. Somehow she must remain professional and detached, though everything in her wanted to ask the man how he could do such things to a defenseless child. She skimmed the file and stilled when she saw Noah Brust’s name listed as a witness. She glanced up and scanned the room. Was he here? There. His lanky, yet muscular, form leaned against the wall. He was frowning. She knew how he felt. These kind of cases made you question the human race. The world should be safe for children, but too often wasn’t.
He looked up and caught her eye. The blood fled her face at the realization that he’d spotted her. Her mind should be on the case, not him. Yet something electric sizzled between them, and the rest of the room faded into the distance. Heat flooded her face.
Tricia forced her gaze back to the file. She thought she’d moved past her attraction when he’d pushed her firmly away after the trial. After meeting him, she’d allowed herself to believe he might be the one. They’d gotten along so well from the moment they’d met. She’d wanted to trust him and let go of her past. Hope for a relationship filled with happiness.
She sneaked another peek at him. He was still watching her, but the frown didn’t exude anger. Instead, he seemed thoughtful. What did that mean? She shook her head. She needed to focus her energy on this case right now. She scanned the photos, and tears flooded her eyes. She swallowed hard to stop the tears. Opposing counsel would not see how much the images of the tyke affected her.
A musky cologne flowed over her, tickling her throat and nearly making her choke. The stench could only mean Earl Montgomery stood next to her. The thought of fighting the odor during the Parker trial turned her stomach. She turned. “What’s up, Earl?”
Maybe he’d leave and take the strong aroma with him if she could get him to talk quickly.
“It’s been a while, little lady.”
She crossed her arms. “All of a week. What do you need?”
“I’d like to discuss the Parker matter. Rumor has it you’re the attorney.” He fidgeted with the lapels of his gaudy plaid jacket.
Tricia stared at him. “Have been since the beginning.”
“Trial’s around the corner.”
She waited. What did he expect her to say?
“It’s never too late to be reasonable. You know the guy didn’t do it. If anything, your client started the argument. In fact, I have it on good authority that she’s not willing to testify anymore.” He brushed a few strands of stringy hair over the top of his bald head. He rocked back on his heels and grinned at her as if he expected her to roll over at his words.
“And how would you know? Interfering with my witness?”
“Just doing my trial prep, little lady.”
Tricia ground her teeth at the familiarity and the condescending tone. “He broke her jaw. Usually the woman wants to see her abuser in jail.”
“Maybe. But I’ve always known you to be reasonable when presented with the truth.” His oily smile made her want to back away.
She stiffened. She would not give up on Linda. She had to keep Andrew from hurting anyone else.
Drawing a deep breath, Tricia collected her thoughts. “Thanks for the suggestion, Earl. Much as you might like me to accept that this is Linda’s final decision, I’ll talk to her first.”
“No problem, darling.” He waved toward the gallery. “There she is.”
Tricia turned to follow where he pointed. Her gaze stopped when it landed on Noah. His eyes seemed to warm as they locked with hers. It had been nearly a year since he’d looked at her like that, and it flustered her. She felt heat climb her cheeks and had to force herself to blink and move past him. The moment she did she felt as if the day had grown colder.
To his right, Linda stood stiffly against the back wall chewing on a fingernail. One look at her face and sloped shoulders was enough. She really wanted to drop the charges. Tricia smiled at the woman. She could handle this. It had happened before and would happen again. All the more reason to make sure she spent time with Linda, made sure she felt prepared for next week.
“State’s not dropping the charges, Earl. Hope you’re ready for trial next week.”
Linda avoided eye contact as Tricia approached. Her perfectly coiffed hair and tailored pantsuit didn’t match the nervous gesture of her nail biting or the extra lines etched around her eyes.
“Linda?” The woman looked up, gaze scanning the area around them as if waiting for Andrew to appear out of the woodwork. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Linda’s manicured hands twisted. “He’s threatening terrible things if I go through with this.”
Tricia took a deep breath, prayed for the right words. “I know you’re scared.”
“No. You have no idea what this is like. Lying in bed each night wondering if he’ll violate the protective order. If he’ll break into his own house, and beat me up for going to the police.” Tricia knew exactly what it was like to live with that kind of fear…but she couldn’t say that. Linda would never respect her if she knew it was Tricia’s fault that Andrew had been free to hurt her. No, she’d have to go with her usual, logical arguments.
“If you don’t stand up to him now, he will abuse you again.”
Linda’s face collapsed. “But he’s promised to do better.”
“Has he promised that before?” She knew too well the verbal punches that preceded the physical, followed by empty promises.
The quiet question hung in the air. Tricia let it settle, willing Linda to think of every other promise, every plea for forgiveness. A tear streaked Linda’s cheek. Tricia pulled a tissue from her pocket and handed it to Linda.
“What will we do?”
“You and your boys will build a new life. One without fear.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I know, but you have to start somewhere. Testify next Monday and make that the next step in finding freedom from Andrew.”
Linda shook her head, the blond waves shielding her face. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” Tricia took a deep breath. “Linda, I know you can do this.” Tricia paused. Should she say more? No, not now. No need to add to Linda’s concerns. “Together we can show the judge and jury what Andrew is really like. Encourage them to put him behind bars. But I can’t do that without your testimony.”
Linda wiped the tissue under each eye and took a shuddering breath. Squaring her shoulders,