The Night Shift(45)

“You think she was cyberstalking you?” Ella’s mind wanders to the Starbucks, Jesse talking about Brad’s social media posts. Her research on Ella.

He nods. “Then my fiancée…” He pauses, corrects himself, “My ex-fiancée, Mara, she comes to my place one night—she used to come over on Tuesday nights after her yoga class.” He stops, suppresses the emotion bubbling to the surface.

To her surprise, Ella feels for him. He’s lost his job, his fiancée, and he’s an English teacher, a lover of literature and culture who’s now maintaining yards.

“Mara comes in my place and there’s someone in my bed. At first, she thinks it’s me, then she turns on the lights.”

Ella’s mouth drops open. “Jesse?”

“Yes, and she’s not just in my bed. She’s naked.”

Ella feels her heart rate accelerating. He has to be lying, right? Covering up an inappropriate relationship with a teenage girl.

Parke’s staring at nothing now. “The next day, our principal gets an email from Mara. It includes a photo of Jesse in my bed.”

“Your fiancée turned on you? Just like that? Didn’t let you explain?” Ella hears the accusation in her tone.

“That’s just it. Mara swears she didn’t send the email to the school. That someone must’ve hacked into her account.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I do.”





CHAPTER 39


CHRIS





Chris doesn’t know what he expected, but she isn’t it.

In the interview room at the Union County courthouse sits a young woman … a girl. She has delicate features. Flowing black hair.

You’d expect someone her age to be crying. Terrified. But she just sits there, calm and collected.

His mind skips to Vince’s face on the night the cops busted in. His brother had cultivated a tough-guy persona. He was a tough guy. He’d taken countless beatings so that Chris and their mom wouldn’t have to. But when the police dragged him out of the house, his eyes screamed terror.

But this girl?

Nothing. Maybe she’s in shock.

As Henry introduces them, Chris has another thought: her demeanor will kill her in the media. The press will call her the “Stone Cold Killer” or “Ice (Cream) Queen” or other clickbait-inspired names.

Henry takes the lead, his manner with their client parental but no-nonsense. “We can never tell anyone anything you tell us,” he says. “Do you understand?”

The suspect nods but doesn’t say anything.

“Here’s how it’s going to go. The first step is called an arraignment. That’s where you plead guilty or not guilty. We’ll plead not guilty. You can change that at any time but we need time to assess your case before we give you our recommendation. Then the judge is going to address bail. Whether you can go home,” he explains.

The girl’s eyes widen a trace. Still no other reaction.

“In a case like this, it’s rare to be released before trial. But you’ll be safe. You won’t be held in an adult facility, for now.”

Chris swallows at that, imagining this pretty young girl housed with the hard cases at the Union County Juvenile Detention Center, much less in the adult population at the jail.

“This is a lot to take in, I know. Do you have any questions?”

The girl shakes her head, then turns her gaze to Chris and Julia, as if deciding whether she’s satisfied with her legal team.

There’s a knock on the door.

“You ready?” Henry asks her.

Chris stands, expecting they’ll be heading to the courtroom. But in walks Judge Armstrong, wearing her robe, unusual outside the courtroom. Next to her, a fit-looking white guy with a Marine haircut. Hal Kowalski, the Union County prosecutor.

Chris understands now. Henry arranged for the arraignment to happen here, not in the courtroom. Out of the ordinary, sure. But this is no ordinary case. The judge doesn’t want a circus any more than Henry does.

Kowalski has aged since Chris first saw him all those years ago. He remembers Kowalski’s face creasing in despair when he got a look at Chris. The bruises on his arms. The scar on his hand. He’d been the one who’d taken Chris to the foster home.

“You’re not in trouble. And this has nothing to do with your brother, Christopher. It’s for your safety. We have a nice couple who you can stay with for a while till this all gets worked out with your dad.” Chris had been angry about it. Funny how that works: abused, neglected, but upset about being removed. His anger slowly faded under the tender care of Ms. May. Under the strength of Clint. Going to bed without worry of being woken by a fist.

Hal Kowalski has risen in the ranks over the years. Chris had wondered at times whether the prosecutor remembered him. Today, Kowalski doesn’t give him a second look.

The session lasts less than five minutes. Judge Armstrong denies bail without argument. And Henry doesn’t fight it. The ghost of Bartholomew H. Badcock and Vince’s case hang heavily over the room. No one will be released, only to disappear. Not this time.

When the judge and Kowalski leave the room, Henry says, “We only have a little time before they’re going to take you to the juvenile facility. We need to ask you some questions.” Henry shifts in his chair. “Remember: we are not here to judge you, and lying to us will only hurt your case.”