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Because I was afraid of what his answer would be.
It was mind blowing to think that a week ago I couldn’t wait to get away from him. The idea that he might be headed back to Seattle while I’d be on my way to my next job actually caused me physical pain.
Hence the reason I was so fucked.
Because my feelings clearly weren’t just about lust anymore. I didn’t know what they were, but I knew even the drastic step of fucking a Magnus look-alike in the very near future wouldn’t solve my problem.
The District Attorney had called Monday afternoon to confirm that the jury had been selected and opening arguments had already been completed. He’d asked Magnus to arrive Tuesday morning since his plan was to have him testify right after the lunch break.
Magnus hadn’t shown any kind of nervousness about testifying and I’d actually been the one who hadn’t been able to sit still as we’d spent the morning in a conference room in the courthouse waiting for Magnus to be called to the stand. It had ended up being well after two o’clock in the afternoon before he’d been summoned. I’d been on high alert the entire day in case Trent tried to make some kind of last ditch effort to silence Magnus, but everything remained quiet.
Too quiet as far as I was concerned.
“Your witness,” I heard the prosecutor say just before he sat down at the table on his side of the courtroom. His questioning of Magnus had taken about an hour and I’d been impressed by how calm and cool Magnus had remained as he’d recounted the events of the day the girl had died shortly after crossing over the US border. The prosecutor had made sure to have Magnus highlight his career in law enforcement since the ultimate argument would come down to credibility. I’d taken a seat in the back row of the courtroom so I could see all the comings and goings and not have my back to anyone or anything. Magnus’s eyes had met mine a few times during his testimony, but he hadn’t lingered in any way. I, on the other hand, had had to remind myself to keep scanning the audience rather than just sit there and be enamored with how Magnus handled himself.
“Mr. DuCane,” the defense attorney began as he climbed to his feet and buttoned his pricey suit. There were two other lawyers sitting with Lachlan Trent at the defense’s table and another three sitting in the first row right behind Trent. The man had clearly spared no expense in hiring the best people to get him off.
“I just want to make sure I’m clear in regards to the events that transpired the afternoon of March 15th.”
The lawyer proceeded to go through every minor detail of what had happened from the moment the girl’s car had been stopped at the border to the moment she died. Magnus had already gone through the steps with the prosecutor, but I recognized the move for what it was. The defense attorney was trying to trip Magnus up. Pride welled inside of me as Magnus stuck to his story even when the asshole lawyer questioned every little detail, wondering how Magnus could remember the events so clearly. Magnus’s response couldn’t have been more straightforward.
You never forget the day a sixteen-year-old girl dies in your arms.
The defense attorney continued to try and provoke Magnus into making a mistake, but after an hour, he hadn’t faltered at all. But that all changed when the defense attorney suddenly asked, “Mr. DuCane, you don’t like my client much, do you?”
“I don’t know your client well enough to have formed an opinion of him, Mr. Salvatore,” Magnus responded easily.
Salvatore was quiet for a moment as he paced back and forth in front of Magnus. His eyes connected with the jury as he said, “So you have no personal feelings about this case?”
“No,” Magnus answered.
I stiffened because I saw a smirk flit across the man’s mouth. His back was to Magnus, so he couldn’t see it.
“Mr. DuCane, do you have any children?”
“Objection,” the prosecutor called out.
“Goes to credibility,” Salvatore responded.
The judge paused and then said, “Overruled.”
Magnus didn’t physically react to the question, though I saw his eyes briefly fill with anger.
“No, not anymore.”
“But you did at one time?”
Magnus glanced at the jury before saying, “Yes.”
“Son or daughter.”
“A daughter.”
“What happened to your daughter, Mr. DuCane?”
The prosecutor objected again. There were several seconds of back and forth between the two lawyers and the judge. My eyes connected with Magnus’s. I saw the hard set of his jaw and I could tell he was pissed.
I knew immediately where the defense attorney was going with the questions and I suspected Magnus did to. His personal life and his daughter’s memory were about to be dragged through the mud.
