Julie Garwood - Come the Spring

bring them with you when you meet me outside of town. You know

where.

" "Yes, " she called out. "I wish you could go with me to see the

judge.

It would amuse you to watch."

"You know I can't be seen with you in this town. Every one knows me

here, and they might start wondering how I got hooked up with you.

I'll be in the courtroom."

"Yes, I know.

Where should I go now, straight to the courthouse? " "Go to the

sheriff's office. He'll take you to the courthouse." After giving the

order, he pulled the door closed. He was surprised by the twinge of

regret he felt. He was going to kill her, and he was surprised that he

actually felt sorry for her. Then he started thinking about how he

would kill her tonight, and within minutes he was hard and throbbing.

All feelings of remorse vanished. He would keep her alive for as long

as he could to prolong his own enjoyment, and he must remember to gag

her so no one would hear her screams for mercy.

It was a pity really. He had considered taking her with him and then

decided against it. Rebecca was such a striking woman she drew

attention wherever she went. The flawless beauty made her a risk

because everyone, even strangers, remembered her.

He would miss her though, for he doubted he could ever find another

woman with such a twisted sexual appetite.

He jerked the door open again, walked inside, and began to unbutton his

pants.

"No, Donald, " she cried out as she backed away from him. Her face was

already flushed with excitement and fear. "There isn't time." His

laugh was harsh. "There's always time." Rebecca didn't arrive at the

jail until one-thirty that afternoon. It had taken almost two full

hours to pull herself together after she and Donald had finished with

one another. Fortunately, he'd let her take her dress off before it

was ruined. She was still hurting, but she wasn't upset about it

because pain would make her look all the more vulnerable and

frightened.

The sheriff wasn't there. His deputy, a young man with a horridly

pockmarked complexion, fastened his eyes on her breasts the second she

walked inside. Amused, she stepped forward to shake his hand. His

palms were sweaty, and she had to resist the urge to wipe her hand on

her dress. She introduced herself and explained why she was there.

"The sheriff was hoping you'd get here soon, " he said. "He's over at

the courthouse waiting to either drag the prisoner back here or let him

go. I think we ought to head over there, because Judge Rafferty won't

end the trial until you eyewitness Bell for him."

"And if he isn't one of the men I saw in the bank? " She tried to

dazzle him with a smile, but it was wasted on him because he wouldn't

take his gaze off her chest. She really had to remember to tell Donald

about the deputy.

He'd get a good laugh out of the story.

"We're all hoping Bell is one of the Blackwater gang, " he told her.

"Would it be all right if I held your arm while I walked you to the

courthouse? " "I won't mind at all. It's very gentlemanly of you. "

The courthouse was only two blocks away. He took her to the back

entrance and showed her to the judge's chambers adjacent to the

courtroom. She sat down near the desk to wait, while the deputy wrote

a note for the clerk to hand to the judge.

"I'll bet Rafferty interrupts Bell's closing speech when he reads this,

" he said, waving the note he'd just folded. "Is it okay if I leave

you alone for a few minutes? I'd like to watch old sour face's

expression and hear what he has to say to the fancy attorney."

"I'll be fine, " she whispered.

She fought the urge to open the door just a crack and look into the

courtroom, but she didn't dare take the chance because Donald was in

the audience, and if he saw her peeking out, he'd be furious.

She closed her eyes, cleared her mind, and prepared for her role. ghe

moment had arrived.

As soon as the deputy returned and opened the door for her, Rebecca

stepped into the courtroom and waited until she was summoned. She

surveyed her audience, noting with pleasure that the room was packed.

A center aisle leading to a pair of front doors divided the courtroom

in half. Two deputies with rifles stood guard on either side. She

noticed a side door directly across from the door to the judge's

chambers. It too was guarded.

She was called forward to the witness-box. Every eye in the room was

on her. Her head held high, her expression fearful, she half expected

applause. She was, after all, about to give the performance of her

life.

Judge Rafferty was so eager to hear her testimony he interrupted the

closing arguments so that she could take the stand. As she walked past

him to take her seat behind the railing, she looked him over closely

and came to the conclusion that it would take very little effort on her

part to get him in the palm of her hand. Rafferty was a heavyset,

middle-aged man with eyeglasses so thick his owlish eyes appeared to be

three times the normal size.

She also noticed he was taken with her. He smiled, he gawked, and she

couldn't have been happier.

She v. as being sworn in by the clerk when the defense attorney leapt

to his feet and demanded the judge's attention.

"Your Honor, this is highly irregular, " he protested. "Couldn't you

wait until the prosecutor and I have finished up and the jury has left

the courtroom to deliberate? My client is being tried on the charge of

attempted murder. The prosecutor is trying to prove that my client

willfully and with malice in mind tried to kill the Maple Hills

sheriff.

This case shouldn't be muddled up with a witness testifying about an

altogether different matter." The judge peered at the upstart over the

top of his glasses. "I'm fully aware of what this case is all about.

Do you think I've been sitting up here twiddling my thumbs and

daydreaming about fishing, Mr. Proctor? Is that what you think I've

been doing? " "No, Your Honor, I don'tţ" The judge wouldn't let him

continue. "What you're saying, Proctor, is that you don't think that

what the witness has to say is relevant, but I say it is. If your

client is who I think he is, then the jury needs to know it because he

would have been fleeing and he would have tried to kill the sheriff and

he would have tried it with what you call malice in mind."

"But, Your Honorţ" "Mr. Proctor, you need to understand. No one tells

me what to do in my own courtroom, and that includes fancy-pants

lawyers like you.

I know you're young and inexperienced and that you think you know just

about everything there is to know, but I make the rules here. Now sit

down and be quiet until I finish with my witness. You understand me?

" "Yes, Your Honor."

"Then why aren't you sitting? " The crowd burst into laughter when

Proctor tripped in his hurry to take his seat.

The judge wasn't amused. He slammed his gavel on the desk and demanded

silence. "I'll have order in my court. If I hear another sound out of

any of you, I'll clear you out.

"Like I said before, I make the rules here, not you. Sit." He

bellowed the command, but by the time he swung around to Rebecca, he

had mellowed considerably.

"I sure would like to cut to the chase and ask you plain out, but I'm

not going to do that. First, I want you to tell the jury who you are

and what happened to you." Her moment had finally arrived. Gripping