Sandra Brown - Ricochet

“I’m not nervous. More like excited.” Feeling the weight of his partner’s stare, he turned his head toward her. “What?”

“It’s real, isn’t it? The thing between you and her. It’s like…the kind of thing that counts.”

“For me, definitely. For her, hopefully.” He looked toward the bench, now empty, but where Cato Laird would soon begin presiding over the courtroom with his customary arrogance and aplomb. “She’s gotta get past this. Start living as herself, not as his wife. It’ll be an adjustment. She’s lived on guard and in fear for a long time. It may take a while before she’s entirely free from all that.”

“Well, I just want you to know-not that you need my permission or even my approval-but, I’m cool with it. With the two of you together, I mean.”

He turned and smiled down at her. “Thanks.”

“Just in case you wondered.”

“Thanks,” he repeated. He glanced at his wristwatch. “They’re late getting started.”

She nodded toward Savich, who appeared not to have moved since he was seated. “He’s trying to pretend he isn’t here.”

“But he is. He’s had his last day of freedom, and he knows it.”

“You can bet he hates being treated like a common criminal.”

“He’s common enough,” Duncan said. “When I pulled the trigger, he messed his pants.”

“Can’t say as I blame him. I nearly did myself. Lucky for him you had left the last chamber of the revolver empty. Why did you? Because you figured it would come down to that last pull of the trigger?”

“Exactly,” he said. “And if that bullet had been loaded, I’d have killed the son of a bitch.”

“All rise,” the bailiff intoned.

DeeDee, dumbfounded by Duncan’s last statement, came to her feet a bit more slowly than did everyone else in the courtroom as Judge Cato Laird strode in and assumed his seat.

He glanced over the assembly, his gaze alighting briefly on DeeDee before shifting to Duncan. Their eye contact lasted for several significant seconds, then he proceeded.

“Mr. Adams, you’re representing Mr. Savich?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Stan Adams stood up.

“He’s been charged with the murder of Meyer Napoli.”

“To which he’s entered a plea of not guilty. Before we continue, Your Honor, I submit that the restraints on my client are unnecessary and request that they be removed for the duration of these proceedings.”

“These proceedings won’t take that long, Mr. Adams. Your request is denied.” For effect, he banged his gavel.

Duncan noticed that Laird avoided looking directly at Savich.

“Mr. Nelson,” the judge said, “you’re representing the DA’s office?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Mike Nelson came to his feet behind the prosecutor’s table, but not before glancing meaningfully at Duncan, whose heart had begun to beat hard and fast.

“Your Honor,” the prosecutor said, “Robert Savich has also been charged with conspiracy to commit murder in the death of Chester Joel Rollins.”

Attorney Stan Adams turned his head so quickly, his neck popped audibly, but Duncan’s eyes were trained on Cato Laird’s handsome face. The judge was smiling slightly, poised to speak, when his brain processed what his ears had heard.

His smile faltered. He blinked several times. He looked at Duncan, whose stare conveyed all the enmity he felt for the man. It also conveyed what he wished he could stand up and shout: And you thought I had you by the balls yesterday.

He saw the judge swallow. “Uh, Mr. Nelson, this is a bond hearing. That’s not the…” He stumbled, tried again. “That’s not the case before-”

Stan Adams was back on his feet. “Your Honor, what is going on here?”

“I’m trying to ascertain that for myself, Mr. Adams. Mr. Nelson, the case you…uh…” As he stammered, his attention was drawn to the rear door of the courtroom. Duncan watched his features turn slack with dismay, then appear to melt as though made of wax, until his entire face was sagging heavily.

Unsteadily he came to his feet and leaned upon the podium for support as Elise made her grand entrance, flanked by Bill Gerard on one side, Worley on the other. Gerard’s countenance, normally affable, was stony with resolve. Worley’s toothpick was at a particularly jaunty angle, like he’d just told the dirtiest joke ever.

As for Elise, she looked confident and poised. “Hello, Cato.”

“Elise!” he cried. “How…This is…My God!”

“Stop pretending, Cato. You’re anything but overjoyed.”

Upon seeing Elise, supposedly a dead woman, astonishment had rendered Stan Adams silent.

Duncan left his seat and stepped into the aisle just ahead of Elise and her escorts. Without breaking stride, he went to the side of the judge’s podium and stepped behind it. Taking the judge by the arm, he literally dethroned him and pulled him from behind his bench.

“Cato Laird, you’re under arrest for the murder of Chet Rollins. You have the right to remain silent.”

“Elise, what…What is this?” He waved his arms in an attempt to throw off Duncan. The wide sleeves of his robe flapped like the wings of a grounded crow. Duncan deliberately articulated his words as he read him his rights.

The judge’s dismay turned to anger. “Gerard, what is going on?”

“Just like Detective Sergeant Hatcher said. You’re being arrested for conspiring to commit murder.”

“This is outrageous!”

Elise stepped up to him. “You had my half brother killed, Cato. He was going to expose you and Savich, so you silenced him.”

He looked beyond her at Gerard. “She’s delusional.”

But Gerard said nothing as Elise went on, undeterred. “At the time, Chet was the only person in my life who loved me. The only person I loved. And he died naked and in fear on a cold shower floor, slowly choking on a bar of soap.”

Cato looked around frantically, seeking an ally. None was to be found. Everyone in the courtroom was riveted by the drama being played out. Some were regarding the judge speculatively. Others had already made up their minds about the truthfulness of Elise’s accusation and were looking at him with contempt.

He shouted, “This woman is unstable! She’s a liar. She killed a man in our home, and I, like a fool, protected her from prosecution. She’s been pretending to be dead, for crissake.”

He pointed a finger at Duncan. “Yesterday, he…he kidnapped and assaulted me. She can tell you,” he said, pointing wildly at DeeDee. “They’ve all turned against me. They hate me. You can’t believe anything they say!”

Elise continued in a calm, clear voice. “For years you’ve been taking money from Savich in exchange for favorable rulings. Lenient sentencing. Sometimes you dismissed cases and declared mistrials.”

She produced the USB key that had been taken from Savich’s computer during the search of his office that had followed his arrest. Despite his claim of having firewalls that couldn’t be cracked, they had been last night by the department’s computer experts.

“All your transactions are recorded on this. Savich was invoiced by your family’s shipping company for its transport services. But he was charged a usurious rate, sometimes twice what other clients were charged for the same service. The overage he paid went into your private account in the Cayman Islands.”

The judge’s face had turned red with fury. He confronted Gerard. “You can’t treat me like this!”

“Yeah, I can.”

“I want my lawyer.”

“You’ll get your phone call, Judge.”

Looking past the others, the judge snarled at Savich, “Did you set me up?”

Savich shouted back, “You were going to feed me to these dogs.”