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That was Helen Chamberlain for you. Maddie’s mother was never one to make a fuss about anything. Daddy had a temper, but Mama was the one who could reason with him and cool him down. She was soft-spoken but firm, and always chose whatever path would lead to a peaceful resolution the fastest. She wasn’t much for drama, so this situation with Maddie and Simon was probably giving their mother a tension headache.
Maddie let herself be herded into the courthouse, following the long, narrow hallway to the only courtroom in Rosewood. Outside the large double doors was a bench where Emmett sat with Logan Anthony by his side.
She stiffened immediately, reaching out to grasp her father’s sleeve and hold him back before he noticed and charged at them. Her daddy was furious with Emmett, but it didn’t hold a candle to how he felt about Logan.
“What the hell is he doing here?” her father barked, the sound echoing down the hall. Fortunately, her mother had grabbed his other sleeve and, together, they held him in place.
Emmett stood calmly, tugging down his suit jacket and adjusting his green silk tie. If Maddie was correct, and she was certain she was, she’d say that was a designer suit. Armani, maybe. And his watch was, at the very least, a convincing Rolex knockoff.
Not exactly the kind of clothes she’d expected him to own after seeing his usual uniform of jeans and T-shirts. She figured he’
d show up today in a pair of poorly ironed khakis and his best polo shirt, maybe combing his unruly blond hair if they were lucky. Instead, she’d been caught off guard by his professional polish. He cleaned up very well.
“He’s my attorney,” Emmett said, meeting Norman’s cold gaze without flinching.
There was a different aura about him that Maddie immediately noticed. It wasn’t just about the clothes or the neatly combed hair. The laid-back surfer dude had stayed at the bar today. The man in front of her looked more like a lawyer than Logan did. He radiated a dangerous feeling of power, like some sort of courtroom barracuda or a corporate hotshot who was cocked and ready to fire.
Something deep inside Maddie was ready to fire, too. There were few things she liked better than a man in a well-tailored suit. To see Emmett’s tall, well-built frame clad in designer clothes was more than she could take. She’d been attracted to him when he was the bad boy she shouldn’t want. Knowing the bad boy could look like this made her suppressed libido nearly explode.
She sucked in a ragged breath, determined to ignore the feelings churning inside. There wasn’t a more inappropriate time for this, except maybe a funeral. Anyway, the attraction would be pointless if her daddy punched Emmett in his handsome, smug face.
Norman didn’t seem impressed by any of Emmett’s attire, but he probably didn’t know how the bartender normally looked. “Good luck with that, Sawyer. With Mr. Anthony by your side, you’ll probably end up in the electric chair.”
Logan made a lunging movement, but Emmett’s quick reflexes held him back.
“Daddy?” Maddie asked, tugging at her father’s coat to distract him and diffuse the situation. The last thing she needed was a brawl outside the courtroom before they went in. “I thought you said I didn’t need an attorney for this.”
“You shouldn’t,” he said with a brisk shake of his head. “Some people just have guilty consciences. You’ll be fine.”
Maddie took a deep breath and hoped he was right.
Either way, time was up. The doors opened and the court reporter stepped out. “Chamberlain and Sawyer,” she announced, turning to go back inside.
They all filed in, taking their seats in the small courtroom. The space was a hundred years old, fashioned of polished wood railings and benches. There were two small tables up front, then the large, raised platform where Judge Griffin sat. The court reporter took her seat to the side and cued up her paperwork to begin the transcript.
The bailiff stepped out from a door behind the bench and asked them to rise. “The honorable Judge Hugo Griffin presiding.”
The door opened again, and the other man stepped out in his robe. He was bald except for the white tufts of hair over his ears that wrapped in a narrow band around the back of his head. He had bushy white eyebrows and a drawn, wrinkly forehead. He was frowning as he climbed the stairs to take his seat, making Maddie more nervous with every step.
She’d never seen Judge Griffin at work before. She’d seen him only at social events. He’d always been pleasant and friendly when they ran into him at church or chatted with her family at the Fourth of July picnic. The man even sang in the choir at church and played Santa a time or two in the Rosewood Christmas parade. He was, by all accounts, a pleasant man.
But that didn’t mean anything once he sat down at the bench.
“Please be seated,” Judge Griffin said. As everyone sat down he settled in, opening a file and silently flipping through the pages for a few moments.
“Mr. Sawyer, Miss Chamberlain,” he said at last, pinning both of them in turn with his dark gaze. “You’re here today to face charges of disorderly conduct, which is a class C misdemeanor in the state of Alabama, punishable by up to a five-hundred-dollar fine and three months in jail.”
Maddie felt her heart stutter in her chest. Did he say jail? Maddie swallowed hard. She wouldn’t last a day in jail.
“According to the statement I have here from Sheriff Todd and Officer Chamberlain, the incident in question seems to be the culmination of a long-standing feud between the two of you.”
“Judge Griffin, my client was only responding to the constant harassment started by Miss Chamberlain. The—”
“Stuff it, Mr. Anthony,” Judge Griffin interrupted. “This hearing is not to deal with why you two were fighting or who started it. I don’t care about any of that. What I do care about is that two grown adults have allowed this battle to reach a point where you’d scream at each other in the streets in the presence of a police officer and think that was an appropriate way to conduct yourselves. You’ve obviously got issues and we’re going to deal with those today.”
Maddie flinched at the judge’s sharp tone. He’d shut Logan Anthony down in an instant. She needed to tread carefully today. Just take her lumps, go home, and hope she never ended up back here ever again.
“First,” he began, “if both the accused would stand, please. Miss Chamberlain, did you or did you not get into a loud public argument with Mr. Sawyer in the early morning hours of this past Saturday?”
