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“Oh my God,” Anya gasped. “I didn’t—Garrick never—”
“Did he know?” Cyrus blurted. “Where you went? Did you tell him?”
She gave a small nod. The hurt that flashed across Cyrus’s face was fleeting but unmistakable. Anya whispered, “I’m sorry, Cy.”
Josie said, “Did Garrick and his wife have children?”
“No,” Anya said. “Marie didn’t want them. She said—” She paused, pain crinkling the skin around her eyes. “She said that Garrick would have had to choose between alcohol and a child and he always chose alcohol. She didn’t want to have children if he was going to keep drinking.”
“After she died, Mathias Tobin went to prison and then Garrick started paying his legal fees so that he could eventually be freed, whether on appeal or by exculpatory evidence,” the Chief said.
“Garrick had enough influence with the Hadlee family to keep Vance away from you for ten years,” said Josie. “Is it possible he talked Vance into making the statement that freed Mathias?”
Before Anya could comment, shouting erupted from the direction of the lobby. Josie looked up to see Vance Hadlee charging toward them. A female deputy chased after him, one hand on her holster. “Mr. Hadlee!” she shouted. “Mr. Hadlee, stop!”
But Vance’s fury was laser-focused on Anya.
“You uppity bitch,” he snarled as he closed in on her.
Anya visibly shrank, as if she were trying to make herself smaller, as if she were made of nothing but air. Her eyes bulged.
“You’re just hanging out here with all your cop buddies, laughing at me?” Vance shouted. “While my dad is in jail? Because of you?”
Cyrus stepped in front of Anya. “Vance,” he said. “Stop right there.”
He was a few feet away from Cyrus when he froze. His chest heaved, fists clenched at his sides. A crimson flush stained his cheeks. Spittle ran down one side of his mouth. The female deputy caught up and put a hand on his shoulder, but he batted it away.
Cyrus said, “Vance, you need to calm down.”
Mettner took a step forward. “What is he doing here?”
“He came to get his father out of custody,” said the female deputy. “Dermot’s out on bond. They’re processing him out now. I’m sorry. We were leaving one of the visitation areas and he saw you here and…”
Mettner looked at Vance. “Well, Dr. Feist is also here, and she’s got a protection from abuse order in effect against you which you’re in violation of right now.”
“You son of a bitch,” Vance sneered. He looked from Mettner back to where Anya’s face was just barely visible over Cyrus’s shoulder. “You’re fucking her, aren’t you?”
Cyrus said, “Vance, you need to leave right now.”
“You’re banging my wife, you bastard. Who the hell do you think—”
Anya’s voice quavered. “I’m not your wife, Vance. Please leave.”
Josie moved sideways so that she was shoulder to shoulder with Anya.
Cyrus said, “Vance, if you don’t leave now, we’ll have to arrest you. I really don’t want to arrest you twice in one week, and I definitely don’t want two Hadlees in here at the same time.”
Vance stabbed a finger in Mettner’s direction. “I didn’t sit on my ass for ten years so some pig could end up screwing my wife.”
The female deputy grasped his shoulder more firmly this time. He tried to shrug her off, but she was ready for it. Cyrus stepped forward. “Vance, shut your mouth and get out of my station before I throw you in the same damn cell your father is vacating.”
Josie wrapped an arm around Anya’s shoulders, feeling her body tremble.
Vance registered the change in Cyrus’s tone. The tension in his body slackened slightly. He turned his attention to Cyrus, who was now pivoting him away and pushing him toward the entrance. “Cy, these assholes are gunning for my family. Ever since they showed up at the farm, it’s been nonstop bullshit. Now this piece of shit is flaunting the fact that he’s doing my wife. Rubbing it right in my face—”
As they slammed through a set of double doors into the lobby, his tirade was cut off.
Anya went limp against Josie. Mettner turned to her. “I’m sorry, Doc.”
