While Justice Sleeps(28)



He shook his head. “On advice of the hospital counsel—they thought you should be the one to do it. I’m sorry, Ms. Keene.”

“Sorry about what?” Celeste lost her hauteur and crossed briskly from the window to slap her hands on the doctor’s desk. A diamond winked below the lights. “What exactly is this woman doing here?” She straightened and folded her arms. “I’ve expressed Howard’s wishes about this matter. He told me several times he wants no heroic measures taken on his behalf. I demand he be removed from life support today. As he has said, if God wants him to live, he’ll be able to breathe on his own.”

    “Like God gives a damn.” Jared’s muttered epithet came as he rose and advanced to the desk. His tall, lanky frame had the athletic build of a runner, and his close-cropped hair echoed the paler brown of his eyes. “I didn’t know him too well myself, but from what I recall, the judge is too self-involved to have a death wish, Doctor. But regardless, no one in this room has the right to speak for him but me.”

“You?” Celeste challenged as she whipped her head toward Jared, lips curled into a snarl. Color streaked along razor-edged cheekbones. “You admit you haven’t bothered to speak to him in years. Now you know what he wants? What about when he wanted your forgiveness? Where were you then?”

“What happened between me and him is none of your business, Celeste. I don’t ask why you’re living in a hotel and who visits you there, do I?” The warning was cool, direct. Anger was palpable in his voice, as was a tone that nearly sounded like sorrow. Turning from Celeste, Jared pointed to Avery. “It’s not your concern either. I’m the judge’s next of kin. I decide.”

“Ms. Keene?” Dr. Toca gave her a look of chagrin. “I think you should explain what’s happened.”

She’d rather feed raw meat to a den of ravenous lions with a toothpick as her weapon, Avery realized. They’d probably be less vicious.

Trapped, Avery got to her feet, bag in hand. She looked at everyone in the room, took a deep breath, and then plunged in: “Mr. Wynn, Mrs. Turner-Wynn, there is something you should know.”

“Unless you suddenly received a medical degree, I have no interest in hearing from you.” Celeste skewered her with a withering glance. “Unlike Jared, I know who you are, Ms. Keene. An opportunist and a glorified legal secretary. Neither of which qualifies you to be in this room. This is a family matter, and whatever you were to my husband, you are certainly not family.”

Jared shrugged in agreement. “With all due respect to Dr. Toca, you have no business here. If you’ll give us some privacy.” Turning his back to her, Jared shifted and cut off her view of Dr. Toca.

Avery had never cared for Justice Wynn’s wife, and his son apparently had inherited his father’s social skills. Dr. Toca gave her a desperate look.

Steeling herself, Avery explained without preamble, “Justice Wynn has named me his legal guardian. I hold his power of attorney.” Silence fell as Avery reached into her bag to produce the pages. “I have the notarized document right here.”

    “What?” Celeste lunged for the pages, certain there was a mistake. The White House had promised her—

With claws tipped in carmine, she snatched the offending sheets from Avery. “No. No.” She flipped through to the last page, where Justice Wynn’s distinctive signature glared up at her. “This is a fake! It’s a forgery! He wouldn’t do this to me.”

“But he would do it to me,” Jared said slowly. “Even at the end, he’d push me away.” He didn’t argue, didn’t reach for the papers. Instead, he moved away from the unfolding scene. “So be it.”

“This isn’t real,” Celeste whispered, her eyes still frozen on the POA. “I’m his wife. I decide.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Turner-Wynn,” Avery managed.

“Sorry? You will be.” The elegant mouth thinned into a razor’s edge, blindingly white teeth barely visible. “I know your kind, Ms. Keene. I won’t let you do this to me.”

“I didn’t do this,” Avery protested. “Justice Wynn did.”

“Why would he do such a thing? Unless you seduced him.”

“Mrs. Turner-Wynn—”

“More likely, he was senile. Which makes this invalid.” She waved the documents and then began to rip at the pages.

Jared stepped between them and caught Celeste’s wrist, forcing her to open her hand. Avery snatched the papers back. They weren’t the original, but Celeste didn’t know that.

“Cut it out, Celeste. This isn’t her fault. The judge did exactly what he wanted—like always—and damn everyone else.” He walked to the sofa and bent to retrieve a black canvas satchel, reaching inside the front pocket, then slinging the strap across his broad shoulders. He returned to the desk and extended his hand to Avery. As she placed hers inside, he closed his fingers tight. “Take care of him, Ms. Keene.”

He dropped her hand and strode out of the doctor’s office. Celeste, teeth still bared, shoved past Avery and snatched up her purse.

She tossed her head and declared, “Jared may be willing to let you steal his birthright, but I won’t. You will hear from my lawyers.”

    In outraged splendor, she sailed from the room, leaving the office door ajar. The doctor sank back into his chair and ran his fingers through the remaining thatch of graying brown hair on his scalp. “I’m sorry about that, Ms. Keene.” He looked up and caught her eyes. “May I call you Avery?”

Stacey Abrams's Books