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“What did he say?”
The man’s eyes shift around a bit, but never land back on Christopher's. “He said he was afraid of her, of what she might do next. I asked him why he would say that, and he told me that he suspected Andrea of some pretty horrible things, but he didn’t have proof yet.”
“Did he elaborate?”
The witness nods his head again, but he says nothing.
“Mr. Morales, you must speak your answer for the record,” the judge orders.
The slimy man clears his fucking throat. “Yes, a little.”
Mr. Clayton moves his hands to his pockets, taking a step back. His posture and gait are awfully confident, which tells me he’d more than likely spent some time coaching this witness. “What else did he tell you?”
“He said he suspected Andrea of laundering money and that he’d confronted her. She threatened his life and said that if she goes down, he would go down with her.”
There are audible gasps throughout the courtroom. I think I’m in shock, unable to comprehend what this motherfucker is trying to accuse my sister of.
“Did he say anything else?”
“Only that he didn’t know what she was capable of. That he was scared of her, and he didn’t want to go to jail over something she’d done.”
A small, sly smile plays on the defense attorney’s mouth as he steps farther back from the witness. He turns to the judge. “Your Honor, that’s all I have for this witness.”
The judge bangs his gavel. “We’ll take a ten-minute recess. Court will resume at 2:00 p.m. with the state’s cross examination.”
Before any logical thought goes through my head, I’m out of my fucking seat and taking long strides up to the front of the courtroom. Christopher turns around with a smug, shit-eating grin on his face.
I point my finger at him and shout, “You won’t get away with this motherfucker! If it’s the last fucking thing I do!”
Just then, someone shoves hard against my chest.
“Mr. Shaw, calm down, or I’ll have to remove you from court,” the bailiff says.
Brad is a good guy who I’ve known for years, but I don’t care. I step into him, pushing myself towards Christopher.
“Get the fuck out of my way.”
Brad drops his voice so only I can hear him. “You don’t want to do this, not here. Not like this. Nail his ass to the wall through the same system he’s trying to manipulate.”
The rage freely flowing through my veins makes it hard for me to hear him. Christopher is led to the side exit door, and finally, the red I see starts to fade. I take a step back, only nodding briefly to Brad before turning to find the prosecutor.
“We have some fucking things to discuss.”
Chapter Eight
Charlie
It’s almost eight o’clock. I’m sitting at home in my most comfy yoga pants, oversized t-shirt, and fuzzy socks. I think I’ll make one of those one-minute single serving microwave cakes. Maybe with some cut up strawberries and chocolate.
Yes, that sounds delicious. I rise from the couch and make my way to the kitchen when my phone rings. Groaning, I turn back around to go get it from the couch.
My heart skips a beat, then races when I see it’s Andrew calling. Can I handle him right now? Why is he calling? The more I talk to him and the more time I spend with him, the harder it is to not think about him. Don’t answer it, Charlie.
It stops ringing, my indecision making the decision for me. Disappointment instantly fills my chest. But before I can dwell on it, it starts ringing again. It’s him…again. This time, concern takes over, and I answer the call on the second ring.
“What’s wrong?” It can’t be good that he called twice in a row. Dread fills my stomach.
“Are you alone?”
