Chapter 25 The Prosecutor

My tears finally slowed to a stop. I was all cried out, at least for now. I started to pull away from Liam, and his arm around my shoulder loosened as he let me go. I ran my hand over the tear-stained shoulder of his T-shirt.

"I'm sorry I cried all over you," I apologized huskily.

He smiled down at me and brushed a tear from my cheek. "It's OK. I have a feeling you needed that."

I nodded and sighed. "I'll be right back. I'm going to splash some cold water on my face." I got up and walked into the small bathroom down the hall. I looked in the mirror and winced.

My eyelids were puffy and my skin was pale and blotchy, except for my nose which was bright red. I blew my nose and washed my hands, then got a washcloth from the cabinet. I splashed my face with cold water, then wet the washcloth and wrung it out. I laid the cloth over my face, gently pressing it against my eyelids to reduce some of the puffiness there. Patting my face dry, I glanced at the mirror once more. I still looked rough, but it was a little better.

I came out of the bathroom, and heard Liam in the kitchen. I walked in to find him filling a bowl with water. He set it on the counter, then picked up the burner phone he had placed on the counter next to it.

"Do you want to watch any of this again before I destroy it?"

I shook my head. "No, once was enough. Thank you for recording it for me though. Nothing will ease the pain of knowing what he did to me for the last several years but knowing that it was real - that he loved me in the beginning at least - it actually helps a little."

He placed the phone in the water, pushing it down until it was completely submerged. "You know that his reasoning was complete bullshit, right? Lots of people were raised in poverty, and many had it much worse than he did. He wasn't abused. He wasn't neglected. His mother loved them both and I think she did the best she could for her sons," he said emphatically.

"Yes, what happened to her was terrible, and I'm sure it affected Scott and David, but the fact that they both turned out to be such horrible people is due to their own character flaws and moral failings, not to their childhood."

"I know," I agreed with a frown. "Of course, I have no room to judge, given what I've done recently."

"No, do not do that. Do not feel guilty for giving them what they deserved," Liam said sternly, walking over to grasp my shoulders. "Look at me," he demanded. "You didn't do this, I did. This is my sin, and I can live with it just as I do with all of my others. You got justice for yourself, for all of the horrible things they did to you. That's all."

"No, justice would have been turning all the evidence over to the police and divorcing him. I got revenge. That's my sin, and I have to learn to live with it."

"Princess, if you had relied on the court system, they wouldn't have been given the penalties they deserved. That wouldn't have been justice either," he said softly.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, and I rested my head on his still slightly damp shoulder. He rubbed his hands up and down my back in a soothing gesture as I relaxed against him. We stood that way for several minutes, and when I lifted my head to step away, he didn't let go.

Instead, he lowered his head to mine and kissed me. I was stunned for a second, then responded without even thinking about it. I hadn't realized how much I had missed physical contact until this very moment.

He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along my bottom lip before slipping it inside to explore my mouth. My tongue tangled with his as he groaned and pulled me even closer. He raised his hand to clasp the back of my neck, angling my head to deepen the kiss even more. When he slid his other hand down to cup my ass, I stiffened at the sudden realization that I was kissing a man who wasn't David, for the first time in eight years.

Liam registered the sudden tension in my body and softened the kiss before pulling his mouth from mine. He moved both hands to hold waist as he took a small step back.

"Too soon?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching my face for a clue to my thoughts.

I nodded a little. "Yes, I'm sorry, but I just can't...I can't do this yet," I said softly. He dropped a gentle kiss on my forehead and smiled as he told me that he understood.

He dropped his hands from my waist and took a few steps back, walking over and picking up the bowl with the phone soaking in it. He poured the water out, and asked if I had any bleach. I directed him to the laundry room cabinet, and he poured bleach into the bowl, letting it cover the phone.

At my questioning look, he explained that he was trying to get rid of any trace evidence on the phone, before he destroyed it.

"Since this one has actual evidence of a murder, I need to be a lot more cautious with it than I was with David's phone. When I'm done here, I'll place it in a plastic bag and lay it on the driveway in front of my tire. I'll run over it back and forth a few times, then I'll dispose of the broken pieces in a few different places."

I smiled. "It sounds like a very thorough plan."

He winked at me and grinned. "Well, thorough plans are my specialty, Princess. That's why I've never been caught."

"Just don't get too cocky," I warned, shaking my finger at him with a smile.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he agreed.

He left a few minutes later, after a final hug and a promise that he would be in touch soon. "Good luck with your meeting with the prosecutor. I have a new burner phone for you in my car, so I'll call you on that next week. I got another one as well, and the number is already programmed in yours. That way, we can talk or text from now on without anything that traces back to David, Scott, or Vanessa."

I walked him out to his car and took the phone he handed me, then I walked back inside. I watched from the doorway as he finished destroying the phone, then gave him a small wave as he collected the bag from the driveway and drove away.

That night, my sleep was plagued with nightmares. It started with David and I on one of our picnics in college, and ended with me shooting him with Liam's gun.

I woke up in a cold sweat, the sound of the gunshot from my dream ringing in my ears. I laid awake for hours after that, crying for all that had been lost. By the time morning came, I vowed that it would be the last time I cried over that chapter of my life.

I stopped by the attorney's office first thing in the morning to sign the paperwork he needed for my mother's estate, then spent the rest of the day wandering around Chicago, visiting the Lincoln Park Conservatory and just soaking up the vibe of the city. I decided to spend one more night at Mom's house, before returning to Indianapolis.

Friday morning, I loaded my car with the last of the things I was taking back with me, and called the realtor I was using there to let her know that the house was ready to be cleaned and staged, so that it could be listed. We had already arranged for her to take care of everything from here on out. I wouldn't need to be involved again until an offer was made for the house.

I drove back to Indy, stopping to pick up lunch before driving to the rental condo. I had arranged to look at a house later that afternoon, so I had plenty of time to unload my car and do a quick load of laundry before I left to meet Rachel, my realtor.

The house was nice, but it just wasn't quite what I was looking for. I was in no rush to find something new. The condo would do for now.

I stopped by Sherry's flower shop on my way home, wanting to get some fresh flowers to brighten up the place. I smiled as I walked through the door. Her shop was gorgeous, housed in an older storefront in the Irvington district. One wall was exposed brick, and it had the original tin ceiling which had been beautifully restored. She had used antique furniture as her display pieces, and the overall effect was upscale shabby chic, and very charming. She was on the phone with a vendor when I arrived, and I chatted with her manager for a few minutes.

Laura was a very nice older woman, who had worked for Sherry for the past four years. She kept the conversation light, very carefully avoiding any mention of David. Sherry had obviously filled her in on the situation. I selected a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers, with an antique pitcher in place of a vase.

David had always preferred clean, modern lines, whereas my tastes ran more toward early American and primitive antiques with a bit of a cozy, rustic feel thrown in. I loved the history of it all, and enjoyed repurposing old pieces for a more practical modern use.

Sherry finished up her call and came out to greet me. We confirmed our lunch plans for the following day before several customers came in, needing her attention. I waved a quick goodbye to Laura, and headed home.

The next afternoon, Sherry and I enjoyed a leisurely lunch, before doing a little shopping. I had a few things I wanted to pick up for the condo, and Sherry was looking for clothes for their trip to Greece. They had decided to go next month, and would actually be gone the same week that I would be in St. Bart's.

"You're still going?" Sherry asked in surprise. "I figured you would cancel that since...well, I figured you might want to go somewhere else."

I smiled at her attempt at being tactful. "No, I'm still going. I actually think it will do me some good to purge the last of my memories of David from my system."

"The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, or so I've heard anyway," she said with a grin. "Maybe you'll find a gorgeous man on the beach and have a torrid fling while you're there."

I laughed as I told her I didn't think I was ready for a fling with a stranger, torrid or otherwise. My thoughts flickered to Liam, as I remembered our kiss. Hmmm, maybe...after all, Liam wasn't a stranger.

We parted ways several hours later. "Tell Chris I said hi, and that I hope he enjoys that tiny little bikini you bought," I teased her. She laughed and waggled her eyebrows at me. "I'm guessing I'll never make it as far as the beach in it, and I'm OK with that."

I spent that evening and the next day puttering around the condo and mentally preparing for my meeting with the prosecutor the next day. Chris called Sunday afternoon and told me that he wanted to meet me there. I told him it wasn't necessary, but he insisted.

"I want to be there for moral support more than anything, but I also don't want him to pressure you too much. He wants to make sure his case sticks, but I don't want him badgering you to make sure it happens."

I finally agreed, knowing Chris well enough to know that he would show up whether I wanted him to or not. He was very protective of those he cared about, and I was lucky enough to be in that group of people.

I was thankful to get a good night's sleep Sunday, and woke refreshed and ready to face the day Monday morning. I showered and had a leisurely breakfast, then looked through a few more house listings that Rachel sent over. Nothing really appealed to me, so I sent her a return email asking her to expand the search to a few more areas.

Later on, I dressed carefully for my meeting with the prosecutor, selecting a skirt and silk blouse similar to the outfit I'd worn to the arraignment. I mentally ran through my cover story again on the drive to the prosecutor's office in the government building downtown. Chris met me in the lobby as planned, and we took the elevator up to his floor.

We only had to wait a few moments before we were led back to his office, and he greeted us at his door. He shook my hand and ushered my into his office with a warm welcoming smile, then glanced over my shoulder and spotted Chris walking in behind me. His smile sharpened, and he narrowed his gaze.

"Hello, counselor. I wasn't expecting you. This is an informal meeting, you understand, so I'm not sure that Mrs. Montgomery needs legal counsel for this."

Chris gave him his "professional shark" smile, as Sherry called it. She said it was the one he used just before he took a bite out of some unsuspecting witness he felt was lying about his clients on the stand. It was the same smile he had used with Detective Horton until he was satisfied that he wasn't treating me as a suspect.

"My wife and I are extremely close to Mrs. Montgomery. I'm not here in a professional capacity, Mr. Parker, merely as a friend for moral support during such an extremely difficult time for her," he replied, holding out his hand.

Joshua Parker shook his hand somewhat reluctantly, and directed us toward a small conference table in the corner of his office. There were several file folders there, along with his laptop and a notepad.

He got right down to business, Chris's presence making him forego his usual pleasantries, I was sure. The meeting was very straightforward. He went over my initial statements to the police, asking if I need to change or add anything.

After I confirmed that it was all correct, he asked a few questions to be certain he understood various points and we discussed everything in minute detail. I was able to be truthful with the majority of my answers, giving carefully crafted half-truths for most of the others. There were only a couple of instances when I had to blatantly lie to cover up what had really happened.

Chris sat quietly at the table, not feeling the need to interject, although I did notice him glance at me a time or two with an odd look on his face. Unless you knew him well, you would likely never notice, but I could tell something was on his mind. I tried not to worry, and he soon returned to his normal self.

As the prosecutor wrapped up the review of the circumstances and his line of questioning, he informed me that the State of Indiana required trials to begin within six months of the defendant being charged, especially in a case like this when the defendants were being held in custody pending trial.

"The judge is unlikely to grant an extension unless we or the defense can show strong cause. There are a lot of facts to wade through, and I'm sure the defense team will be bringing in their own expert witnesses. Fortunately for us, our case is based on solid, documented evidence - the cell phone records, the video recordings, the bank transfers, the falsified documents. It would be nearly impossible for anyone to cast doubt on the charges for the fraud, forgery, embezzlement and drug possession."

He glanced at Chris, who nodded in agreement, then continued. "Now, the charges for attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder aren't quite as cut and dried. We don't have a few pieces of that puzzle, but I think we have enough for the jury to connect the dots and agree with certainty that this is what happened. I don't think they will be swayed by an argument of reasonable doubt, but we just won't know until we begin the trial and get a feel for the jury's reaction."

Mr. Parker looked at a piece of paper in one of the folders, then looked back up at me. "We have one bit of good news from the lab. Most of the prints on the wine bottle were too smudged to be useful, except for two. Vanessa Caldwell's partial palm print was found on the bottom of the bottle, and her thumb print was found near the label. That clearly puts the bottle in her possession at some point."

I smiled at that knowledge and thanked him for his efforts on this case. Chris and I parted ways in the lobby, after he invited me to dinner with them that evening. "Sherry will want to hear all about this meeting," he said with a smile. Sherry hated being left out of the loop on anything, so it was probably driving her crazy that she hadn't been with us today.

I happily accepted the invitation, and arrived at their house later that evening to be greeted by the smell of Sherry's fried chicken when I walked through the door. My mouth watered - her fried chicken was fantastic and I was starving.

Over dinner, Chris filled her in, telling her he thought everything went well, and that Josh Parker wasn't quite as much of an asshole as he usually was when Chris faced off with him in a courtroom.

Sherry got agitated about the case all over again as he talked, undoubtedly helped by the several glasses of wine she had with dinner. At one point, she said "I swear, if David wasn't already dead, I'd kill him myself."

My eyes widened a bit at her statement, and Chris assured her that he would have defended her in court. He was watching me closely when he tilted his head toward me slightly and added, "I guarantee that I would have convinced the jury that it was self-defense."