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“She’ll be in a side room until the bailiff calls her. You can be in there with her.”
“And once she’s called to go in,” Nutsbe asked, “I’m allowed to follow her to the witness stand and make sure that Beowolf gets settled?”
“That’s correct. We want that to be as quiet a process as possible so the defense attorney can’t make it an issue.”
“I think we’ve got that handled.” Nutsbe laced his fingers and lowered his elbows to his knees. “But once he’s sitting with her. I want to be as close as possible. I can’t imagine anything going wrong. But I don’t want to be in the back should I need to intervene.”
“Yes, absolutely. So the way I’ve done this before, and the way I had planned to handle it tomorrow—since this is a public trial—is to have one of our paralegals go with me to court and sit in the spot directly in front of the witness. She’ll get up when you walk in.”
“Good.” He glanced around at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
Candace walked into the room. The change was a shock to the system. She was wearing a cream-colored, short-sleeved dress made of the kind of floaty material that women wore when they took social media pictures in flowering meadows. Her hair was in a loose bun at the back of her nape, with a few whisps framing her face. The juxtaposition of sweetness and the fire of the slash mark scars on her neck and arms was startling. “I thought something like this,” she stammered. “This is how I used to dress. And they would probably understand better if they saw who I used to be.”
Olivia walked over and took Candace’s hands. “You will get to a point in your life when you can be anyone you want. Dress however you like. That’s going to take time. And therapy. But I believe in you, Candace. I believe that you’ll get those choices. And I completely agree. We need the jury to see who you were when Kyle Offsed shifted your world. Very well done. I’m proud of you. Dressing like this took bravery.”
Nutsbe shifted uncomfortably. Even without tears, here was the kryptonite—the sense of powerlessness when he wanted desperately to erase the pain.
“I have to get going.” Olivia looked over her shoulder at Nutsbe. “What time tomorrow?”
“I thought eleven would give us plenty of time,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “There’s going to be traffic.”
Olivia, still holding Candace’s hands, turned back to her. “Eleven, Candace?”
“Yeah, sure.” Her lips pulled into a deep frown.
Olivia ran her hands up and down Candace’s arms. “Try to keep yourself distracted this evening, okay? Call a friend. Put on a good movie.”
“Yeah, Okay.” The words caught in her throat and were barely audible.
When Nutsbe and Olivia walked outside, with Beowolf trailing behind, Candace shut the door quietly behind them.
Nutsbe had a bad feeling that that didn’t go as well as Olivia might have thought. He was getting the vibe that Candace might just jump in her car and drive through the night.
Of course, if she did that, Offsed might win his case and be back out in society, free.
And then, would she ever be safe?
Chapter Nine
Olivia
Beowolf walked on one side of Nutsbe and Olivia on the other. Nutsbe was a head taller than Olivia, and that was while wearing heels. Up close, his shoulders were as broad, and he was as solid as he looked when he ran past her house, athletic.
For some reason, seemingly outside her control, her fingers twitched against her thigh, wishing she could slide her hand into Nutsbe’s where it belonged. It didn’t belong there; she’d just met the guy. He was just familiar, familial even, because he regularly jogged by her house.
And to be honest, after seeing Candace’s distress, Olivia’s emotions were barbed. She could use the comfort of human touch.
Bob stood at the end of the sidewalk. He held up his phone. “If I don’t move more than three inches, I can get a signal here. Strange.” Bob tipped his head. “Are you okay, Olivia? You look tired.”
“Oh, yeah, fine.” She combed her fingers over her scalp so her hair fell down her back and out of her eyes. “Motorcycles have been roving around the neighborhood, keeping me up with their noise.”
“They have earplugs for that,” Bob said kindly.
“Situational awareness.” Olivia gave a half smile. “There aren’t usually motorcycles in our neighborhood. And not that loud. And not making a circuit.” She did a half turn to face Nutsbe. “Have you heard them?”
“I have.” He gestured a sit command, and Beowolf plopped his butt onto the cement. “Turns out Olivia and I live in the same neighborhood,” he explained to Bob, then focused back on her. “They were an annoying buzz, but I slept through them just fine. I got used to the constant activity of a military base. But now that you say that, it does stand out as strange.”
“You need a dog to take over the situational awareness and let you get some sleep,” Bob shoved his phone back in his pocket.
