“Your Honor.” Harland rose. “I hardly think we need to be so drastic.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Reeves, but the D.A. does have the right to move straight to trial. And I concur that is the prudent course of action given the overwhelming evidence.”
Hot tears beaded in Piper’s eyes.
“Let’s see . . .” Judge Morrell scanned a document in front of her. “With the holidays so near, why don’t we schedule opening arguments for January second. Mr. Reeves, does that provide enough time for you to build your case?”
“I’d like a few more weeks.”
“All right. Does January fifteenth suit?”
“That would be fine. Thank you, Your Honor.”
“And now to the matter of bail.”
“Your Honor,” Meredith began. “Taking into consideration the overwhelming evidence against Mr. McKenna, and his high risk of flight, the State requests that bail be denied.”
“Denied?” Piper gaped at Cole in horror. “They can’t do that. Not with Christmas only a few weeks away.”
“Your Honor,” Harland said, “the State is seriously overreaching. No evidence is foolproof—especially after such a short investigation period. The McKennas are well respected in the community and lifelong residents. Surely their involvement and longevity—”
“Your Honor,” Meredith interrupted. “That may be true for most of the McKennas, but not Reef. Let the record show that the defendant hasn’t permanently resided in Yancey for nearly seven years. And he has spent those years living a transient lifestyle—traveling from place to place, never setting down roots.”
“Mr. McKenna is not a hobo, Your Honor,” Harland said. “Nor is he a transient. He travels for his job.”
“His job?” Meredith scoffed. “Try hobby.”
Harland kept his focus pinned on Judge Morrell. “Your Honor, my client is a professional athlete. His profession requires him to travel.”
“All right, Mr. Reeves, then where does Mr. McKenna maintain his permanent residence?”
“With the circuit.”
“Surely the circuit doesn’t run year-round. Where is his home?”
“Yancey, Your Honor.”
“Where he hasn’t been in seven years,” Meredith added.
“Because of his livelihood,” Harland countered.
“That may be, but what I’m trying to ascertain is his attachment to one place. Let’s try this another way,” Judge Morrell said, pushing the sleeves of her robe above her elbows. “Does Mr. McKenna own a home?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Does he draw a regular paycheck?”
Harland looked at Reef.
He leaned over and murmured something.
Harland nodded and cleared his throat. “His income comes from his wins and any endorsements he procures.”
“Has he lived in any one place for a year or more?”
Reef shook his head.
“No, Your Honor.”
“Six months?”
Reef shook his head again.
“Three?”
Reef nodded.
“And where was that?”
After a brief exchange, Harlan Reeves answered, “In Brazil.”
“A foreign country. That’s hardly reassuring,” Maureen pointed out.
“Mr. Reeves, I hate to tell you this, but your client perfectly fits the definition of a transient lifestyle.”
“A requirement of his profession.”
“That may be, but he’s still a flight risk.”
“His family will vouch for him.”
“I imagine they would, but that doesn’t make him any less of a flight risk. It just makes them liable.” Judge Morrell shifted and addressed Landon. “Deputy Grainger, you’re the lead officer on this case. You know the McKennas. Do you believe the defendant is a flight risk?”
He looked at Piper.
Her chest tightened. Don’t do it. Don’t make him spend Christmas in a jail cell.
He looked down, his jaw tightening.
“Deputy Grainger?” Judge Morrell asked impatiently.
“Yes, Your Honor,” he said, his voice cracking. “I believe Reef is a high-flight risk.”
A torrent of frustration crashed over Piper. She’d never allow Reef to jump bail. Landon had to know that. If he couldn’t trust Reef, couldn’t he at least trust her?
“Taking all of that into consideration,” Judge Morrell continued, “it is the court’s decision that bail be denied.”
“But, Your Honor . . .” Harland protested.
“Mr. Reeves, I appreciate the fervor you display on behalf of your client, but my decision has been made. Mr. McKenna will remain in custody until his trial.”
“Your Honor, if we could just—”
“We are finished here,” Judge Morrell said. “Thank you.”
Piper rushed to Reef’s side before the deputy could escort him out and hugged him. “I won’t let this happen. I’ll find a way to prove your innocence. I promise.”
8
Gage waited until everyone left the courtroom—everyone except him and Meredith.
She stood at the prosecutor’s table, stuffing files into her briefcase.
He strolled up behind her, catching a whiff of her perfume. Lilacs. The scent brought back memories of happier times—summers lying with her on the hammock beside the large lilac bush in her backyard. How had they gotten from there to here?
“You’re really going through with this,” he asked.
She stiffened. “If by this you mean prosecuting Reef’s case . . . then yes, I’m really going through with this.”
“And you feel nothing?”
“On the contrary, I feel a great deal for the victim and her family.”
He stepped closer, resting his hand on the table mere inches from hers. It’d been so long since he’d touched her, since their lives had been so closely intertwined. “And for my family?” He gazed at her. “For me?”
She held his gaze, no emotion registering in her eyes. “I’ve closed that chapter of my life.”
“Just like that?” He bit back the pain. “We lose our son, and the next day you’re gone. You didn’t even bother to come to Tucker’s funeral.”
“People don’t have funerals for premature fetuses.”
“He wasn’t a fetus; he was our child, our son.”
“Unlike you, I see no need to dwell in the past.”
He could barely breathe for the pain that seeing her brought back. “Mer . . .”
“I don’t have time for this.” She lifted her briefcase. “If you’ll excuse me.” She pushed past him, and he did nothing to stop her. He’d tried once and it had done no good.
He heard a swish of the main courtroom door behind him while Meredith exited out the side door. Had one of his siblings ducked back in to witness his encounter with her?
Remaining at the table, he followed the curve of the wood with his long, lean finger—tracing the place where she’d doodled. She’d always doodled when she was nervous.
Was she nervous about the case or possibly its connection to him? Maybe she didn’t have a heart of stone after all. He shook his head. Now who was being foolish?
He exited the courtroom to a flurry of reporters. Just Reef’s dumb luck the town would be crammed with reporters covering the Freeride Championships. Sports reporters covering a murder case? They had to be champing at the bit.
“Miss McKenna”—a reporter shoved the microphone in Piper’s face—“did you have any clues your brother was a murderer?”
“My brother is no such thing.”
Gage stepped forward to intervene, but Cole wrapped a guarded arm around Piper and addressed the reporter through clenched teeth. “I suggest you walk away.”
“Is that a threat? Does this murderous tendency run through the entire McKenna clan?”
“That’s enough.” Landon stepped between the McKennas and the swarm of reporters.
A dizzying haze of flashes rent the
air.
Meredith appeared at the opposite end of the hall, and all the reporters clamored over each other to reach the fresh prey.
“How do you know the prosecutor?” A bold voice ventured.
All but one, apparently.
Gage turned to find a pixie—no more than five foot four, her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail with wispy bangs framing her beautifully sculpted face. Enchanting. “What?”
“Meredith Blake. How do you know her?”
Gage grimaced. He was wrong. Not a pixie, more like a gnat.
“The assistant D.A. . . . You obviously know her.” Impatience skirted her tone.
He glanced down the hall at Meredith fielding questions like a pro, the glow of ego and ambition radiant upon her. “I did, once.” Or at least he thought he had.
“When was that?” The pixie shoved a recorder in his face.
He swatted it away. “Who are you?”
“Darcy St. James,” she said proudly. “I’m a reporter.”
“With which paper?” he asked, oddly curious which bloodsucking paper she leeched for.
“Ski Times,” she said, with a bit less enthusiasm.
Was she serious? “Ski Times?” He tried not to chuckle. “I can’t imagine them covering this type of trial.”
“Trial. Ski trial . . . criminal trial . . . witty. But I assure you, Ski Times is always after stories that affect athletes. I’m sure they’d be interested in your brother’s trial—and if not, there are plenty of hard-hitting periodicals that will be.”
So . . . she was looking to make a name for herself. “I’ve got news for you, honey.” He stooped to meet her five-foot-four gaze head on. “Exploiting my family is not going to be the hard-hitting news story that gets you there. So shoo off,” he said with a flick of his hand.
“Shoo off?” She huffed. “And who are you to call me honey?” With each word she poked his chest—her delicate finger inflicting surprising force. “If you don’t want to answer my questions, I’ll just go ask Meredith. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to offer a response.”
“Then you obviously don’t know Meredith,” he said dryly. She wouldn’t give an aspiring reporter the time of day. That was the thing with climbers—they only had use for the people on the rungs above, never the ones below.
Darcy St. James stalked away from the brutish McKenna brother. He was gorgeous, but he certainly wasn’t charming. What was his problem, anyway? She’d asked a valid question, and he’d belittled her—his brisk nature, a neon confirmation that she’d hit the mark. There was definitely a connection between him and the assistant D.A. The color had drained from his face the instant Meredith Blake entered the courthouse—a mixture of love and anguish swimming in his heather-gray eyes.
Irritation churned inside as she stalked across the courthouse lobby, the heels of her boots thumping. How dare he insinuate she was trying to exploit his family? He hadn’t even given her a chance to explain. If he hadn’t been so bullheaded and confrontational, she could have explained that she was trying to help.
She’d interviewed Reef McKenna numerous times in the past, and the news of his arrest for Karli Davis’s murder had flat out shocked her. While the evidence looked bad, she was not one to jump on the party wagon. Especially when that party wagon was gunning for reelection. She wanted to dig deeper. To make sure they actually had the right man behind bars. If not, the real killer was still out there. And if so, what had happened? How had Reef McKenna gone from the charming, playful athlete she’d known to a killer?
There were so many questions to be answered. It seemed only right to begin with those who knew Reef best, with his family. Perhaps she should have approached it differently, not jumped on her curiosity about the McKenna brother and the assistant D.A. But there was definitely a connection there, and it had shifted her focus.
She studied Meredith Blake in the limelight—her flawless complexion radiant in the glow of camera flashes, her shoulders squared and her brow high. What had gone on with the pair?
Landon guided the McKennas into the break room. “Okay, I managed to get you a group visitation. You can meet with him here, but Slidell insists a deputy remain with you at all times.”
“Why?” Piper asked. As the rest settled around the room, she dropped her purse and a package she had brought for Reef onto the table next to the sad excuse for a tabletop Christmas tree.
“So Reef doesn’t try anything stupid.”
“I’d say you killed any chance of that with your little flight-risk speech.” She still couldn’t believe he’d done that. Killed any chance of Reef being able to stay at home until the whole mess got sorted out. If her brother had to spend Christmas in this cold place . . . Heat flared in her again, despite the chilly temperature of the room.
“What are you saying?” Landon sat on the edge of the table, hardly an inch from where she stood.
She tried to ignore how his presence made her heart race. Frustration. It’s all out of frustration.
“Please don’t tell me you were hoping he would run, Piper.”
“Of course not, you big buffoon. Reef would never do that to us.” She glanced again at the Christmas tree atop the table by Landon’s elbow. Its drooping branches suggested underwatering, and the lack of light in the windowless room didn’t help matters. If someone didn’t show it a little love, it’d end up looking like the Charlie Brown Christmas tree before the week was out.
“Piper, I couldn’t lie.”
“I wouldn’t want you to. I just can’t believe you really think he’d run. . . .” Reef wouldn’t do that to them.
“He’s done it before.”
“Leaving Yancey, yes. Not running from the law. There’s a distinction.”
“I was trying to protect your family.”
“Protect us? How?”
Cole leaned forward from his seat across the table. “Piper, I—”
Landon put up his hand. “It’s okay, Cole. I can handle this. Piper, if you vouched for Reef and he ran, you’d lose everything.”
“I keep telling you, he wouldn’t do that to us, wouldn’t take off and leave us holding the bag.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“You sound sure, but your jaw just tightened.” His finger brushed her skin, and she tried to ignore how good his touch felt.
“So?”
“So, that’s what you do when you’re conflicted.”
“You think you know me so well . . .” she said, diverting the subject. She wouldn’t admit for even one instant that she’d hesitated. Reef had been irresponsible in the past but not with something this significant. Not with something that could cost them everything if he took off.
“I do.” Landon stood, his face now a breath from hers. “Know you.”
She swallowed, waiting for a retort to form, but the door opened, and Thoreau led Reef in handcuffed.
“Remove the cuffs,” Landon instructed Thoreau.
“But Slidell said—”
“You can tell him to blame me if anything goes wrong.”
Thoreau shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll be right outside the door.”
Landon nodded.
Piper wrapped her arms around Reef. “We’ll get this straightened out. I won’t let you go to jail for a crime you didn’t commit.”
Reef smiled, but it was tight, forced. “It’s not looking so good.”
She braced her hands on his shoulders, looking him square in the eye. “We’re going to get you out of here. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“The judge obviously doesn’t see it that way. What if the jurors don’t either?”
“They will.” They have to. “What did Harland say?”
“That it doesn’t look good.”
“But he believes you?”
Reef rubbed his hands together. “I guess so. We didn’t have much time before the arraignment. He said to visit with my family and then he and I will have a long talk.”
She looked at Cole. “I don’t want someone who thinks my brother is capable of murder representing him.”
“You don’t know what Harland thinks, Piper.” Cole stepped over to rub her shoulders. “Let him and Reef chat, and I’ll talk with him afterward, see exactly where he stands.”
Thoreau tapped on the glass. “Slidell said five minutes.”
“That’s all we get?” Kayden asked.
“I’ll push it as long as I can.” Landon opened the door to confer with Thoreau.
“I brought you some things.” Piper handed the package to Reef. The package Landon had searched. He’d claimed it was protocol, and she understood his needing to follow the rules, but seriously, what’d he think—that she’d slipped a shiv in there? How absurd. She wasn’t a criminal, and neither was her brother.
Reef pulled out the red-and-white snowflake-patterned quilt that always adorned the family room couch at Christmas. If he couldn’t spend Christmas at home, she’d bring as much of it as she could to him.
Next he pulled out the tin of cookies. She’d been sending them to him every Christmas since he’d left Yancey. Praying one year he’d finally make it home. And now that he had, he was spending it behind bars.
“Thanks, Piper.” He cracked the lid. “Butterscotch.” A real smile curled softly on his face. “My favorite.”
“I know.” She ran her hand through his hair. “Just like I know you’re innocent.”
Deputy Thoreau opened the door a crack. “Time’s up.”
Landon stepped inside. “Sorry, guys.”
Reef stood, trying to put on a brave front, but she knew he was scared. She could see it in his eyes. Just like when he was a little boy terrified of thunder—every storm she’d find him cowering in the coat closet. She’d crawl in with a flashlight, a handful of books, and a warm blanket; and the two of them would huddle under the blanket, reading by flashlight until long after the storm passed.
Often their mother would find them there the next morning, still asleep. The first time, she’d nearly had a heart attack, thinking they were missing, but after subsequent storms, she knew exactly where to look. How Piper wished this storm would pass.
She embraced Reef tightly as Thoreau stepped into the room to haul him away. “I won’t stop fighting until I get you out of here, Reef. You have my word.”