Heir

Chapter 3-2

“What does that mean, he’s appealing the protective order?” JJ asked.

Her heel caught on the crappy carpet as they exited the courtroom. She had to hobble faster to catch up with her attorney as the woman took a hard right in the hallway, cell phone in hand, and veered into the ladies’ bathroom. Ms. Callaway went straight to the stall and disappeared inside. JJ waited until the tinkling sound stopped, but found she still couldn’t speak through the closed door. Soon Ms. Callaway emerged. Her bag slid from her shoulder and smacked against the sink while she was washing her hands. She shoved it back automatically.

“Sorry—should’ve peed before the hearing. I forgot how long-winded that jerk can be.” She performed the same bag-shifting maneuver while scraping paper towels free from the dispenser. “Jerk being his attorney, not the judge. It means we’re not done yet. It means he’s trying to drag this out, hoping you’ll be charged and he can use the shooting stuff against you. But in the meantime, he’s agreed to abide by the order, so if he shows up, call the cops. And then call me.”

“If he’s fighting me in court, he won’t come at me head-on. Not right now, anyway,” JJ said, though she wasn’t entirely convinced.

Her lawyer bent toward the mirror and pulled down on one cheek, examining her eye. Blinking, she said, “You’re probably right. I didn’t anticipate him fighting this, and it’s been a while since I’ve done family law. I’ll put my head together with Mr. Lewis, maybe have a friend drop by for a consult. There’s somebody I can contact in the State Police today, see if he’ll give me a hint of where their investigation is leaning. Call me this afternoon and we’ll schedule something in the next few days. We should have notice of our next hearing by then, too.”

JJ stood numbly, a sense of mild shock settling over her. “I thought we’d be done with this part.”

“Me, too,” Ms. Callaway admitted. “But it’ll be okay. I’m sorry—I have to get upstairs to cover an arraignment.”

JJ didn’t immediately follow her attorney, but stood with her eyes closed, repeating It’ll be okay, It’ll be okay… It had to be. JJ couldn’t imagine what Evie’s life would be like if something happened to her. Who would raise her daughter? Her own mother? JJ opened her eyes and almost laughed, then finally headed for the door. Mom raising Evie… that’d be almost as bad as—

Marcus was waiting for her in the hallway.

He would definitely be worse.

She made herself look through him, as though he were nothing, before calmly turning in the other direction toward the exit.

“JJ!” he called out.

She ignored him. Halfway to the door.

“JJ!” Marcus said again. Then, “Janie, come on.”

She stopped and turned on her heel. He nearly ran into her, but she leaned forward rather than backing up. “You didn’t call me that when we were married. You sure as hell don’t get to call me that now.”

“Got you to stop though, didn’t I?”

He grinned, and the secret curl of his mouth still threw her off-balance. It wasn’t fair. Why would her body never learn what her mind had suspected from the start—that being with Marcus was a mistake?

“We’re not supposed to be talking to each other,” JJ said. Her arms were crossed. When had she crossed her arms?

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, almost convincingly. “I just want to know if you’re okay.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, partly out of anger, partly because she knew Marcus liked to talk. Maybe he’d let something slip that would help her case.

He looked back down the hall, but there was no one in earshot, with the closest people gathered in a clump of suits and uniforms outside the courtroom door. Then he took a half step closer. “What did you get yourself mixed up in, JJ? It seems like every time I turn around, I hear something else crazy—kidnappings and murders and who knows what-all. Is this because your long-lost, best buddy is back? Is that it?”

JJ rolled her eyes. Of course he would latch onto that. Leave it to Marcus to be jealous of a memory he’d never met.

“Or maybe it’s your new boyfriend, the Sheriff,” his true colors slipping through with the edge in his voice. “Maybe he’s behind all this. Or maybe he can’t keep the populace in order because he can’t drag himself out of your bed.”

JJ gritted her teeth to keep her mouth shut (motherfucker, she thought), and turned and left him standing. When he got like this, all she could do was make things worse.

“Don’t you walk away from me,” Marcus growled.

His hand gripped her arm from behind, tugging, and she stopped—both breathing and walking—out of fear or prudence or some mix of the two.

“Was it the Sheriff’s idea to say I poisoned my daughter’s dog?” he asked.

JJ swung around and shoved him away. She registered a uniformed figure heading toward them, but her mind had stalled on her ex’s accusation. “What the hell are you talking about, Marcus?”

His face flushed, Marcus said, “I did not poison Evie’s dog, JJ. I would never do that to her. You know that.”

JJ gave a short, harsh laugh. “Really? That’s where you draw the line?”

He reached toward her.

“Sir!” It was Beecham County Deputy Beth Marshall, all five feet of her. She stood out of striking range, hand at the ready, though whether she’d pull a stun gun or one with bullets JJ couldn’t say. “You need to step back now.”

Marcus raised his hands and attempted his trademark charm, but he was too agitated to pull it off. “It’s okay, Deputy. I’m just talking to my—”

“I know who you’re talking to, sir. And I also know you shouldn’t be. You can move along now, or you can head back to the station with me, give your attorney a call and see if we can straighten things out there. Your choice.”

Marcus shook his head, but backed away. “Remember what I said, JJ,” he said, before heading in the opposite direction. “It wasn’t me.”

The deputy still faced his retreating back as she asked, “You okay, Ms. Tulley?”

“JJ,” she reminded the deputy. The petite woman had convinced her to file against Marcus, helped her with the paperwork, and directed her to the magistrate. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Did he threaten you?” Beth asked, in a voice JJ suspected—like many women in positions of authority—was deeper than came naturally to her. Her short hair barely peeked from beneath her campaign hat in the back, but there was no mistaking her for a man.

“No,” JJ said. “Not this time.”

He had, however, ensured she’d face another sleepless night.

Because if Marcus didn’t poison Trooper, who did?