Savannah clenched her fists and stood. “You’re destroying the finest man I’ve ever met, and now you’re helping to ruin a child’s life. How would you feel if it were your nephew or your own blood? You could change Simon’s future, but you’re letting fear rule you.”
Martine gulped and dashed a tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry, Savannah, truly. I had no choice. I love my father. I had no choice.”
“The right choice isn’t easy and takes courage. I guess you have no backbone, Martine. I thought better of you. You’re making the weaker choice again.” She stormed toward the gate to get away before she lost her composure completely.
“Savannah!”
She paused at Martine’s call and turned back toward her with a tiny ray of hope. “You’ll come?”
Martine was standing with her hands clasped in front of her. She took a step toward her, then stopped. “I—I wanted to tell you I’ve never seen Hez as happy as he is with you. I wish you both the best, but I can’t come back. I just can’t.” She ran toward the house.
Savannah fought the sting of tears. How would she tell Hez she’d failed?
Hez rubbed his forehead and leaned back in his chair, staring at the tiles on his office ceiling through tired eyes. Savannah had been apologetic when she called to tell him about her meeting with Martine, but Hez didn’t blame her at all. He was very familiar with Martine’s look-out-for-number-one approach to life. She was witty and fun but hardly altruistic. Her refusal to testify was disappointing but not surprising.
Hez had thought of Martine as a sort of outer-orbit friend—the kind of person you want at your parties but not in your life. That had been a mistake. If you can’t trust someone, they shouldn’t be around you at all. That should have been obvious to him, especially as a former prosecutor. If anyone was to blame here, it was him.
His phone buzzed—and his spirits rose when he saw who it was. He sat up and took the call. “Hey, Hope. What’s up?”
“Hi, Hez. Thanks for that tip on the location of the computer used to blackmail James Hornbrook. I’ve forwarded it to the FBI and they’re verifying Bruno’s work. They don’t doubt that it’s accurate, but they have to check, of course.”
Hez stood and started to pace. “Of course. But what about Michael Willard? Were you able to get a warrant to search his house? Did you find the computer?”
Her tone cooled. “You know I can’t comment on that, Hez. I can’t reveal specifics about an ongoing criminal investigation, especially to someone who’s litigating against the subject of the investigation.”
Hez ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry. I know thatwhen there’s news you can share, you’ll share it. It’s just that... well, the adoption hearing is only two days away. If Michael is arrested, that’s going to make a big difference.”
The line was silent for a moment. “Don’t count on him getting arrested.”
Hez closed his eyes. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“I’m sorry.”
He ended the call and shoved his phone in his pocket.
His thoughts traveled back to the call when Bruno had first told them about his efforts to trace the extortionist’s computer. Bruno had been on speakerphone in the Justice Chamber and the static had been terrible. Was that the same Justice Chamber meeting that Michael attended? Yes. In fact, he had questioned Bruno about the computer.
Hez winced and flopped down into his chair. The computer and all the hardware Bruno mentioned must have vanished from Michael’s house that very night.
Would Bruno’s analysis alone be enough to trigger an arrest warrant for Michael? Probably not. He had relatives over all the time, and it would be impossible to prove that one of them didn’t own the computer. So investigators would need to find proof that Michael bought the MacBook and other stuff Bruno mentioned. But if Michael was smart—and he certainly was—he wouldn’t have bought it himself. He would have purchased it through a dummy company or, better yet, used stolen electronics. So that would likely be another dead end.
Hez tried to force himself to examine the facts like a prosecutor. What would he do in Hope’s shoes? He’d be suspicious of Michael, of course. Very suspicious. He was too close totoo many crimes—the artifact smuggling, the Hornbrook extortion, Ella’s murder.
A surge of anger flooded Hez at the memory of Deke’s confession. It was no use. He couldn’t put himself in Hope’s shoes because he was too personally involved. Besides, she’d already told him he shouldn’t count on Michael being arrested. Maybe she suspected him of just as many crimes as Hez did but didn’t have hard evidence against him. As the old law enforcement saying went, “We never catch the smart ones.”
He put his face in his hands and tried to pray for protection for Simon and justice for Ella. But hopelessness overwhelmed him and the words stuck on his tongue like ashes.
Savannah knelt by Ella’s grave, and she pulled a few stray weeds from the lush carpet of grass. The scent of wildflowers and freshly mown hay eased the stress of the past few days. What time was it? Her body had no idea if she was in France or Alabama.
Tomorrow a judge would decide their fate, and she held little hope for that decision. Nothing had gone their way in these proceedings. Michael was too corrupt, too crafty. She wished Hez were here with her, but he was huddling with Scott on any last-minute strategy they might pull out of the hat.
She traced the letters on the gravestone and closed her eyes, calling to mind the dimpled smile she loved so much. This life wasn’t all there was. No matter what happened tomorrow, God was in control.
Footsteps crunched on oyster shells, and she opened her eyes with the hope Hez had come after all. She gulped when she spotted the tiny figure climbing the steep path. Helen clutched flowers in both hands, and she paused at the sight of Savannah. Their gazes locked and clung, and Savannah struggled for something to say.
The wind lifted Helen’s white hair into a soft halo around her face when she paused and glanced at Ella’s headstone. Her stony expression softened. “Is it true TGU is actually starting the neonatal clinic? I saw it on TV, but I never know what to believe from that lying reporter.”
“It’s true. When I learned the truth about what my father did, I wanted to do the right thing.”
