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“Bartholomew’s attorney, Stan, is a friend of mine. He mentioned that you might not be the right person for the case. He pointed out you’re not married and don’t have children, so you might not understand the nuances of the situation.” Covington let out a labored breath. “It’s nonsense, of course, but we wanted you to know a whisper campaign has started against you.”
Jessa guessed she’d have to focus all her energy on not letting her growing distaste for Darren and his knuckle-dragging attorney influence what she told the judge or how she talked with her young client, Curtis, but damn. As far as she was concerned, Ellie Bartholomew couldn’t run far enough or fast enough to get away from the man she’d inexplicably married.
But she also wanted to be clear about her position. All of this posturing and good-old-boy crap made her more invested in Curtis. “I can do my job.”
Covington reached for his coffee. “No one is suggesting otherwise.”
Well, actually...“Good, because I have no intention of dropping this case.”
“We’ll keep an eye on the progress. Have regular check-ins,” he continued because he’d clearly been picked as the spokesperson for the meeting. Most of the other partners, especially those who hated anything related to contested custody cases and gravitated toward money-only cases, barely paid attention.“We just need to know everything is on track and that the firm isn’t implicated in any trouble.”
“How would it be?”
“The Bartholomews have contacts with our clients. I belong to the same club. Bottom line is they have clout and could impact referrals to our firm.” He shook his head. “Let’s just say there are mutual issues between us.”
She wasn’t clear on who the “us” were, but it sounded as if Tim’s worries about her staying on the case weren’t irrational after all. “You’ve never micromanaged a GAL appointment before.”
“This is a special case.”
“You know, it’s entirely possible Darren Bartholomew won’t get joint custody or what he really wants, which seems to be for his wife to disappear forever.” She had their attention now. No one played on a cell phone or looked around. Plenty of eye contact. More than a few frowns. “I just wanted to make sure everyone is prepared for that.”
Silence screamed through the room. Covington didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then... “We’ll watch and decide if it makes sense for you to continue.”
“I really want—”
“You can go back to your office now.”
Chapter Ten
Gabby
More than a week had passed since Baines’s death. Gabby tried to focus on the newspaper but couldn’t stand reading another story about the tech guy who’d shot himself in the groin. In this interview, his wife insisted the police got it wrong because her husband could not have died that way.
Gabby knew all too well how that felt.
The more she thought about those terrifying, life-changing minutes in Baines’s library, the more convinced she became that someone else had been in the room with her. She’d run into a body. Someone had grabbed her... maybe? The end was such a blur, but she hadn’t just fainted. She knew there was more to what happened than her passing out from shock.
“Mom?”
Kennedy walked into the kitchen with her long brown hair in a ponytail, wearing a black dress and looking far too pale. She’d been home from school since the day after Baines died. She’d been quiet since she came home, except when she was being grumpyand sensitive. The only thing that could rouse her usual feisty spirit was the suggestion her dad had killed himself. They agreed the idea of him being so despondent or desperate didn’t fit with what they knew about him those last days. If anything, according to Kennedy, who sometimes acted as her dad’s far-too-young confidante, he’d been upbeat and talking about some big secret deal the company was about to bid on.
“What’s wrong with you?” Kennedy asked.
“Huh?” Gabby realized she was standing there, out of it, instead of cutting the watermelon in front of her. She’d meant to make fruit salad, but there had been so many things she’dmeantto do over the last few days and failed. She spent most of her time dazed, trying to remember why she’d walked into a room and if she’d remembered to brush her hair that morning.
“It’s not the first time she didn’t hear me knock.” Liam stepped into the doorway and put an arm around Kennedy. “Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?”
She grabbed on to him. “Uncle Liam.”
Seeing them together brought a rush of tears to Gabby’s eyes. She fought them back because a weepy mother was an annoying mother. Kennedy had been quite clear about that.
“Are you checking on us?” Gabby asked.
Liam winked at her. “Sort of.”
Kennedy let go of her uncle just long enough to deliver a withering sigh. “Mom.”
Gabby wasn’t sure what she’d done this time, but she could play the name game all day. “Kennedy.”
