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Lucas's hand shot out and waved a circle as he murmured the words to a barrier spell. Nast hit it and stopped short. Sean caught his grandfather's arm and tugged him back.
"He didn't do anything, Granddad," Sean said. "We told you that. Lucas was doing CPR on Joey, then had to call for help, so Paige took over."
Nast's face contorted. "This witch touched my grandson?"
"To help him," Sean said. "Bryce and I didn't know how. They were there and--"
"Of course they were there. They killed him."
"No, Granddad, they didn't. Bryce and I followed them from the courthouse. We were right behind th
em the whole time. They didn't do anything."
The door opened again and two men came in. The first waved a notepad--our notepad--dropped in the parking lot.
"This is yours, isn't it?" he said to Lucas. "I saw you writing in it during the trial."
Lucas murmured an affirmation and reached for the pad, but the man snapped it out of his reach. Sean Nast snatched the pad from behind and peered at it, then glanced up at us.
"You were preparing an appeal," Sean said. "You didn't think Weber did it."
By then all the Cabal CEOs, including Benicio, had crowded into the small room, and Lucas had to admit we had questions about Weber's guilt, which led to the obvious question of why no one had been apprised of our suspicions. Lucas would never lower himself to "I told you so" even when so richly deserved. I might have filled in the blank had Benicio not done so himself. His admission won him no brownie points for honesty, and the other Cabals jumped on him, accusations flying.
That only opened the floodgates to more finger-pointing. Within minutes, everyone had a theory on who was behind the murders, and they all involved another Cabal. The Cortezes had covered up Weber's innocence because the real killer was one of their own. The Nasts lived nearest to Weber, so they'd planted evidence and launched the SWAT attack, again to hide the real killer in their midst. The Boyds were the only Cabal the killer hadn't attacked, so they were obviously behind it. And the St. Cloud Cabal? Well, no evidence pointed to them as the culprits, which was only proof that they were.
In the midst of all this, Lucas quietly retrieved our notepad and helped me sneak out the door. My incision still felt as if it had been ripped open and stuffed with hot coals, so I had to lean heavily on Lucas, and our progress was slow. Once again we made it halfway across the parking lot before someone hailed us.
"Where do you think you're going?" William called.
"Don't stop," I murmured to Lucas.
"I wasn't going to."
William strode around and blocked our path. "You can't just run out on this."
"Sadly, no," I said. "But I can hobble, and believe me, I'm hobbling as fast as I can."
Lucas started to skirt his brother, but William stepped in front of us.
"Move," I said. "Now."
William glared at me. "Don't you--"
"Don't you," I snarled back. "I just saw a boy die because you people executed the wrong man. I'm mad as hell and my pain medication ran out hours ago, so get out of my way or I'll blast your ass back into that courtroom."
A whoop of laughter, and Carlos sauntered over to us. "Whoo-hoo. You've got a real spitfire there, Lucas. I gotta hand it to you. You done good."
"She's had a difficult day, William," Lucas said. "I'd get out of her way."
William strode toward me. "No little witch is going to--"
I flicked my fingers and he stumbled backward.
Carlos laughed. "The girl knows sorcerer magic. Maybe you should listen to her, Will."
"Maybe Lucas shouldn't be teaching her tricks," William said, bearing down on me again. "Sorcerer magic is for sorcerers."
"And witch magic is for witches," I said.
