She looked like she’d been dragged through hell and back.
He could almost read her thoughts.
She wanted this to be over.
Now.
Mena was one of the most private women he knew, not one to dwell on negative events. She was always pushing forward, focusing on the future and not letting anything hold her back. One of the things he loved most about her was also the one thing that caused him the most worry. He hated that she kept her feelings bottled up inside, without seeking an outlet to help her process what she was feeling. Putting pressure on her to talk when she wasn’t ready was something he had never done. Julian was content to just be there, however she needed, to see her through. And that’s what he’d do once she stepped off that witness stand.
He gave her a reassuring nod, strength to endure the last round of questioning.
The judge acknowledged the District Attorney’s request, and Liam Bishop took Mena through a series of questions to clarify certain statements she’d made. The medical records were reviewed once more to highlight that the rape kit performed on Mena had come back negative. Then Liam revisited the reason Zak caught Mena in the first place. The conversation she’d overheard between Adam Russell and Priscilla where they discussed killing both Irving Bond and Ella to keep the criminal activities a secret.
Mena regained a bit of her confidence during the re-examination.
After twenty minutes of detailed questions, Liam Bishop finally uttered the words Julian had been waiting for.
“No further questions, your Honor.”
Mena stumbled slightly as she stepped down from the witness stand. Her steps were slow and heavy as she walked across the courtroom, her eyes cast down.
She stopped at the bench, reaching a hand for him. He grabbed it and stood. Leading her out of the courtroom, he closed the door behind them and steered her toward the witness holding room where they could be alone.
Mena’s haunted eyes stared back at him as she leaned into his embrace. “The jury doesn’t believe me. They think I was too drugged up to remember what happened. What if Priscilla gets off because my testimony was useless? What if I’m the reason—”
Julian pressed his lips against the top of her head, whispering into her hair. “It’s over now.”
“It won’t be over until Priscilla is behind bars for good,” Mena said, pulling back from him.
Julian couldn’t agree more. “How about I take you home, treat you to a decadent bubble bath and wash away everything that happened today?”
Mena inhaled deeply. “That sounds good. I’m going to run to the washroom before we leave. Can you let Kendrick know we’ll have to meet up another time for drinks? I’m just not in the mood anymore—”
Julian couldn’t take his eyes off of her. What torment of emotions was she hiding behind those stunning brown eyes? Would she open up and share her fears with him?
“Don’t look so upset. I’m okay, really,” Mena said, leaning in to kiss him quickly on the lips.
Julian reluctantly released her from his grasp and watched as she exited the witness room. He reached for his cell phone to send a quick text to Kendrick. It buzzed in his hand. Staring at the screen, he didn’t recognize the number. Aerie Islands area code. Could it be about Broman?
Pressing the green button, Julian answered the phone.
“Poor Mena. How is my sweet former conservator recovering from that disastrous testimony? The jury walked out of there thinking it was impossible for her to remember anything clearly from that time. And your testimony was no better. The D.A. is going to have a hard time proving beyond a reasonable doubt that I’m guilty of anything,” Priscilla Dumay taunted.
“How are you calling me?” Julian growled into the phone.
“The more important question is why I’m calling you, don’t you think?”
Julian was in no mood for Dumay’s games, but he wouldn’t deny his curiosity. “What the fuck do you want?”
“When I was locked up in Tiverton, I had a very interesting conversation with a woman who was serving time for smuggling guns with Enrique Rivera Ortiz. You know who that is, don’t you?”
Julian gripped the phone tighter. “Why the fuck would I care about your conversation with one of El Mago’s mules?”
“She told me an interesting story about a clash between his rebels and the SEALs about five years ago in Central Sulawesi.”
Julian frowned. What kind of interesting story could some gun smuggler have told Dumay? The fight in Central Sulawesi wasn’t a secret. The only secret was what he’d done. What he’d covered up. What no one could ever know. The mule couldn’t have found out about that.
Julian said, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
