Drop Dead Gorgeous(89)

The urge to gather Zoey in my arms battles with a desire to tell Jeff, and everyone else in Zoey’s life, to sit on their thumbs and take a good, long, dry spin. They deserve to get fucked for the way they treat her, carelessly taking shots at her fragile heart.

But Mr. Monroe is still taking aim at Frederick, and this case is anyone’s guess right now. “Just how far would Everlife, you, and Mr. Hale go to not pay a widow what is rightfully hers?”

Frederick is utterly calm, nearly unflappable. “A rightful claim? We would pay without question, and with our utmost sympathies. Once due process had been completed.” Frederick’s no-nonsense style only adds sharp validity to his next words as he stares Mr. Monroe down. “However, a problematic claim by a widow, where there is a question that perhaps she sped up the policy holder’s demise to get access to the funds and is attempting to sue her way into a quick payout before due process has even been completed? We would exhaust every avenue legally owed Everlife under the policy contract itself to ensure that criminal matters are not rewarded with civil luxury.”

Damn, Frederick. He’s not holding any punches, flat-out calling Yvette a money-grubbing murderer.

We have a lot of questions, even more concerns, but I don’t have full evidence of all that . . . yet. But it’s hard to mitigate those kinds of charges once they’re put out there, especially when the law and the policy contract are on our side, not Yvette Horne’s.

Judge Hopkins looks thoughtful while Mr. Monroe and Mr. Walsh give closing statements, but he makes up his mind quickly.

“I’m ready to rule. In the motion by Yvette Horne against Everlife Insurance, I find for . . .” I hold my breath, even though I know what the outcome should be.

But things work differently out here in Williamson County, and at the end of the day, Yvette Horne is one of their own. Hell, for all I know, she has coffee with Judge Hopkins every Saturday morning.

Judge Hopkins puts us all out of our misery. “The defendant, Everlife Insurance.”

I finally exhale, my lungs thankful for the reprieve. But while I’m breathing again in relief, Yvette Horne is inhaling sharply and loudly in shock. “What?”

She sounds defeated, and actual real tears slip down her cheeks. For the first time, I believe she’s actually feeling loss. Not the loss of her husband, but of the money.

Judge Hopkins narrows his eyes at Yvette, and I see no friendliness there, so my worries on that front were obviously not needed. “Mrs. Horne, once your husband’s death has been fully investigated and cause of death has been fully determined, I’m certain Everlife Insurance will be able to process your claim appropriately. I know time feels like it is not on your side, especially when you’ve had such a great loss.” He lifts his eyebrows as he dips his chin in challenge, and I’m pretty sure Judge Hopkins has a solid read on Yvette Horne’s true intentions. “The truth always comes out, and those who should pay, will.”

Judge Hopkins turns his attention to Frederick, but all the heat and accusation has melted from his expression.

“This is not over,” Yvette snaps as she rises. Pushing past her lawyer, her heels click on the floor as she stomps her way out of the courtroom.

Judge Hopkins adjourns court, and Frederick shakes Mr. Walsh’s hand. To Mason and me, he says, “Well done, gentlemen. Let’s get a bite before I head back to the office.”

A business lunch with Frederick is something that should excite me, and any other time, it would. Especially after a win like this morning’s case. But all I can think of is tracking Zoey down, and going back to the city, having lunch, and getting Frederick and Mason out of my hair means that it’ll be hours before I can see what’s wrong with Zoey.

Unfortunately, Frederick’s idea wasn’t a question, and I find myself walking down the stairs toward the front door of the Williamson County offices. I look around, hoping to see Zoey, or even Sheriff Barnes so I can step away for a minute and give him a piece of my mind. But we don’t pass anyone, and even the front desk, where Alver usually sits as the building’s guardian, is vacant.

Mason drives us back to town with Frederick and me sitting in the back seat.

“Where would you recommend for a good steak and a nice scotch?” Frederick asks.

I have no idea. A bar? I have multiple recommendations, and some of them don’t even have trivia nights.

A place to grab a quick bite that’ll leave me with leftovers for tomorrow and not kill my macros?

Sure, I’ve got those too.

But fancy, white tablecloth places for business deals on Frederick’s level? Nope, not my area of expertise.

“Sure, let me see if I can get us a reservation,” I tell him.

On my phone, I click into a review app and filter restaurant options by steakhouse and three-dollar signs to get the expensive ones a man like Frederick would expect. A few more clicks and I have a table reserved for thirty minutes from now. Which is good, because we’re a bit out of town.

Before I put my phone down, I take advantage of the fact that Frederick is distracted by his own device and send a text to Zoey.

You okay? I’m doing lunch with Frederick and then I’ll call you.

I wait a minute to see if she responds, but nothing comes back. She’s probably busy after taking the whole morning for court. I just hope she stood her ground with Sheriff Barnes about whatever pissed her off. If not, I’ll comfort her and kill him.