Before Brent could respond, Judge Temple concluded their meeting. “Consider that advice my support of your client, since I was deemed unable or untrustworthy enough to be the one to grant him bail.” Temple sat taller and squared his shoulders. “I guess we’ll never know how that would have gone.” He shrugged. “That is all. I look forward to seeing Mr. Anthony Rawlings on my docket.”
Brent left the judge’s chambers in a daze. Damn political hard-balling—that was all this was. Allyson found the judge who’d been denied the ability to decide bail and played to his ego—not like it was difficult to play to Temple’s or any other judge’s ego. As soon as he got back to Rawlings, Brent intended to subpoena Claire’s medical records. Until they officially arrived, he knew how they could get a head start: Roach’s information. It might not exactly hold up in court, but it would kick-start the medical legal team at Rawlings to get going on their research.
Brent called Roach. “This is Brent Simmons. Can you get me everything you can find on Claire’s medical treatment, diagnosis, and prognosis? We’ll subpoena the official records soon enough, but this will help our research get started.”
“I’ll have everything I can find to you as soon as possible.”
“Thanks, we appreciate your help. You know, usually I wouldn’t ask—”
“Unusual circumstances warrant unusual procedures,” Phil replied.
“Yeah,” Brent said. “This definitely qualifies as unusual. Thanks again.” He hung up.
While Brent put those wheels into motion, the next stop would be Evergreen’s office. He sure as hell hoped that would go better than his chat with Judge Temple. His goal was to get the false-imprisonment counts dropped before the additional accessories to murder and attempted murder charges went on.
The raise that Brent gave himself about six months ago wasn’t going to cut it. If Rawlings Industries didn’t fail entirely under this burden, Brent’s 2013 taxes would show a significant increase in income. Friend or not, with Brent’s head pounding, this shit deserved more money!
There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.
—Patrick Rothfuss
Sitting in the quiet hospital room, John assessed his sister-in-law. Claire was married. She’d actually married that bastard again! Once the foreign documentation was delivered to Jane Allyson, John had stared at it until he’d nearly bored holes in the pages. The attorney in him wanted to prove the documentation was false or unlawful but he knew it wasn’t. Perhaps it wasn’t the lawyer in him; maybe it was the brother-in-law. There’d been a time when Emily, Claire, and he’d been close. John truly did consider, or used to consider Claire a sister. She still was like a sister, John reminded himself. After all, it wasn’t unusual for families to have disagreements. Glancing toward the woman lying asleep on the bed, John wondered if the disagreements in this family could possibly be overcome.
Emily was at the hotel with Nichol, trying to rest. John was worried what the stress of this whole situation was doing to his wife and unborn child. Weren’t pregnant women supposed to take it easy? Instead, Emily was dealing with not only her sister but also her niece and so much more. Memories of the fire at Rawlings’ estate and being trapped in that room continued to haunt them both. Would the horrors of Anthony Rawlings ever end?
As John watched Claire sleep, his thoughts went back in time, to a time of innocence—when grades, sports, and girlfriends were the only concerns, when life was black and white. How do people not appreciate that age when it occurs? Instead, everyone wishes for maturity. John sat in the vinyl chair with a sigh. Growing up wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Their growth had started out well enough. Somehow, from early on, John knew that Emily was the girl for him. Truthfully, throughout everything they’d endured, he’d never doubted that. After all the recent darkness, it seemed as though life was finally looking up. He and Emily had a baby coming, John had a new job, and they were living the life in California. When he first started dating Emily, Claire was barely a teenager.
As John remembered her at that age, the tips of his lips rose slightly recalling the lanky adolescent with frizzy dark hair and an undeniable stubborn streak of independence. Though John found it endearing, it was something that often infuriated her older sister. He recalled many occasions when Claire chose her own path, despite her sister’s advice. He blinked the moisture from his eyes as he mourned the woman Claire was never allowed to become. He also mourned the woman she had become. Either scenario was undeniably better than the one lying before him. Despite it all, or perhaps because of it all, his sister-in-law was a survivor. Whether it was the death of her parents, the loss of her job, or surviving her first marriage, Claire survived. Not only did she survive, each time she came back stronger. For that, John believed Jordon and Shirley would be proud. For that, he believed she would triumph once again. His sister-in-law was a phoenix. Whatever had occurred in her brain to make her the way she currently was would smolder and die. Claire would once again rise from the ashes.
John wanted to believe that. No, he needed to believe that, not just for him, but for Emily and Nichol.
Thinking about Nichol and the mess at hand, John remembered Claire’s visit to California last summer. It had been the last time he or Emily had seen Claire—until now. During that visit, John had seen that same stubborn streak he’d known since she was a teenager. The only difference was that this time she directed it at them. Claire came to announce her engagement, claiming she was in love.