Beauty from Love (Beauty 3)

“It’s McLachlan now.”

“I’m sorry?”

“She’s no longer a Prescott. It’s Laurelyn McLachlan. This is her husband, Jack McLachlan,” I explain.

“I was unaware you and Miss Prescott had married. May I speak with her?”

“She’s not available at the moment and won’t be anytime soon.”

“Well … I guess I can go ahead and speak with you since you’re one of the witnesses to testify in this case. I spoke with Miss Prescott several months ago …”

I interrupt because that’s no longer who she is. “It’s Mrs. McLachlan.”

“Er … yes. I spoke with your wife several months ago when the Blake Phillips case went before a judge for arraignment but I’ll catch you up, as you are now her husband and you both live in another country. Are you familiar with the American justice system?”

“Not at all.”

“As you know, Mr. Phillips was released on bail months ago since he wasn’t considered a flight risk due to his ties in the community, meaning his wife and children.” Yeah, I know. The fucker has been walking around free as a bird. “The judge in the preliminary hearing felt there was sufficient evidence to move the case to trial, and the grand jury did as well, so Mr. Phillips was officially indicted. He entered a plea of not guilty to all charges against him and a trial has been set for next week on May seventh. The prosecutor needs to speak with both of you about your testimony prior to that day, preferably in person, but over the phone is acceptable if you can’t be present before the trial.”

Seriously? We live on a different continent and we’re given a week’s notice? “Our presence isn’t possible at this time. My wife is pregnant and is experiencing some complications so she’s been admitted to the hospital for an indefinite period of time.”

“We can try to move the date back but not more than a few weeks at most.”

That won’t work. “Laurelyn won’t be traveling for the remainder of her pregnancy.” Or soon after. She’ll be nursing and there’s no way we’re dragging a newborn across the globe because of Blake Phillips.

“Well, that certainly poses a problem, Mr. McLachlan. Mr. Phillips is already making a lot of noise about his constitutional right to a speedy trial being violated with the date as it is.”

That sends me into orbit. “Who gives a fuck about his rights after the things he did to my wife?”

“The American justice system does.”

“Well, that’s very unfortunate.” This is a technical world we live in. “What about testifying via video?”

“It isn’t unheard of for a witness to testify over closed-circuit video but it’s a long shot. I wouldn’t expect the judge to go for it. Allowing a victim to testify from the other side of the globe is unprecedented in a criminal case where constitutional rights are at stake. Not to mention that cross-examining over webcast would be terribly difficult. Frankly, Mr. McLachlan, I’m surprised this case made it to trial because you and your wife are basically the only evidence we have. It’s weak even with your testimony because it’s otherwise unsupported. The remaining evidence is circumstantial, at best, and likely inadmissible, so it would be damn near impossible to get a guilty verdict without your testimony. I would expect his defense attorney to make a motion for the charges to be dropped and that will likely happen if you don’t testify.”

This is incredible. “You have our statements. Can’t you use those?”

“They’re hearsay, and even if we could use them, they are unpersuasive.” He has an answer for everything.

Un-fucking-believable. “So, you’re telling me he can attack my wife, attempt to rape her, and get away with it?”

“It’s hard to win a case when the defendant has connections and the best defense attorney money can buy,” he explains.

“Well, he’s not the only one with money and connections. So, I guess that’s the American way.” But it’s not the McLachlan way. There’s no way I’m letting that fucker get away with what he did to Laurelyn. “It truly sickens me to see him walk but we can’t risk the safety of our unborn child. As such, Laurelyn won’t be coming and I can’t leave her at this critical time.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Mr. McLachlan. I wish you and your wife the best.”

I end the call with Mr. Drake and I’m beyond furious. “Blake Phillips attacked Laurelyn—left her body bloody with bruises—and attempted to rape her. He would have been successful had I not gotten to her in time and he’s going to walk without any repercussions.”

I’m sorry my mum had to hear that conversation. “It’s not right but at least she’s here now and not in Nashville. He can’t get to her from where he is.”

“I’m not done with him.”

“Son, there’s nothing you can do. As much as I hate what that man did to our girl, you have to let it go.”

I’m set to argue with my mum and throw her words back in her face. “She’s one of us now and we protect our own … at any cost.” But I’m not able because the door opens with L being brought back into her room.

I’m happy to see the head of her bed in a normal position. I reach for her hand but she’s sleeping and doesn’t stir when I take it in mine. “I thought she’d be awake when she came back.”

“Some people are a little groggier than others after anesthesia. It’s just sticking with her a little longer—doesn’t mean anything’s wrong.” The nurse reapplies the monitor on her belly. “I’m putting the contraction monitor back on so we can make sure she isn’t having contractions. Sometimes a cerclage will cause the uterus to contract. If that happens, we’ll need to give her some medicine to stop them.”

So, the cerclage is a step in the right direction but we’ve yet to hit a safe place. “The procedure went well as far as you know?”

“She did great. Dr. Sommersby should come around and talk to you within the hour.”

I breathe a sigh of relief because nothing catastrophic, such as ruptured membranes, happened. This woman is my life and now this baby is as well. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to either of them.

25

It takes a moment for my eyes to focus but I’m able to make out Jack Henry sitting at my bedside. He’s holding my hand, brushing his thumb over the top the way he so often does. “Hey, pretty girl.”