Rainier Drive (Cedar Cove #6)(23)



He regretted their argument and was sorry for the things he’d said.

When she turned and saw him standing just inside the door, she jumped, startled. “Seth!” She switched off the vacuum cleaner. “When did you get home?”

“Just now.” He walked toward her. “Where’s Leif?”

“Preschool. I need to pick him up in half an hour.” Her gaze didn’t meet his as she swept the hair away from her face. “Did the sheriff have any news?”

He shook his head. “He showed me a picture of a pewter cross. You might take a look and see if you recognize it, although there’s no guarantee it’s connected to the arsonist.” He paused. “If the sheriff doesn’t get any leads from that, I feel we should contact Roy McAfee.”

Justine didn’t respond to any of those statements. “I’m sorry about this morning,” she murmured instead.

“I am, too.” He walked toward her, and she stepped into his embrace. “We need to talk,” he said, holding her close.

“Okay.”

“How about if I take you and Leif out for lunch,” he said. “I ran into Dad, and he had a suggestion I want to discuss with you.” He went on holding her. For the first time, he saw clearly that his anger was putting their marriage at risk. He loved Justine and his son. Dammit! He wasn’t going to lose them, too.

Nine

Olivia Lockhart-Griffin wondered if job shadowing was such a good idea. The high-school guidance office had contacted her a couple of weeks earlier to make the arrangements, and in a moment of weakness she’d agreed. The high-school girl sitting in front of her looked terribly young, but her eyes glowed with sincerity and keen interest. Olivia had believed in the justice system as a girl of that age, and she did now. The difference was that years of experience had shown her its weaknesses as well as its strengths.

“So you’d like to be an attorney?” Olivia glanced down at the girl’s name on the sheet of paper. “Allison?” she added. Allison Cox. Cox. That name sounded vaguely familiar.

“Yes, Judge, I would,” Allison said, her back straight.

“Any particular reason?” Olivia asked.

The girl nervously flipped a strand of dark hair over her ear. “I’m hoping to learn how to use the law to help someone who doesn’t have a lot of options.”

Olivia nodded. It sounded as if the girl had a personal agenda; however, there wasn’t time to delve into that now. She needed to get to court. “I’ll be spending the morning in court, listening to a variety of cases. You can sit in the jury box near the court reporter. We’ll take a short break midmorning, and then stop for lunch around noon. I have a luncheon engagement with my mother. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like, and then we’ll return to court about one-thirty.” She smiled at the girl, who nodded. “Depending on the cases, I generally stop for the day at four. I stay a bit longer to read case files for the next day, but you’ll be free to go then.”

Allison made a notation on a yellow pad. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything you’d like to ask me before we head into the courtroom?”

The girl offered her a tentative smile. “I…I asked the guidance counselor if I could be assigned to you specifically. You might not remember this, but about three years ago my parents were in your court. They were getting a divorce.”

That was why the name seemed familiar. Olivia did recall the couple and their situation.

“Mom and Dad had decided on joint custody of my brother and me. You said you didn’t like Eddie and me moving between houses every few days, so you gave us the house and had Mom and Dad move in and out.”

Olivia smiled. “I remember. But professional ethics prevents me from discussing any case if there’s a possibility the parties might come before me again.”

Allison nodded. “They remarried, you know.”

Olivia didn’t, and was pleased to hear it. “That’s wonderful.” Checking her watch, she stood and reached for her black robe. Pulling it on, she left her chambers. Allison followed and she introduced the girl to the court reporter, who escorted her to a seat near the bench.

The court cases on that morning’s schedule probably opened Allison’s eyes wider than anything she’d read or seen on television. The child custody cases always tore at Olivia’s heart. The state’s position was to leave the child with the primary residential parent, in most cases the mother, if at all possible, as long as the child’s welfare wasn’t in jeopardy. More times than she cared to admit, Olivia wanted to shake these young parents and ask them to take a hard look at what they were doing to themselves and their children. Too often, their minds were addled by drugs or alcohol. Sadly, she doubted anything she said would sink in. Of course she dealt with other cases, too, but these were the ones that stood out most prominently.

Olivia noticed Allison taking copious notes and could only imagine what the high-school senior must be thinking, looking at the ravaged lives of those who stood before her.

Shortly after court went into session, Charlotte Jefferson-Rhodes slipped onto a bench at the back of the courtroom. Within about a minute, she’d taken out her knitting. Olivia smiled. Charlotte was an inveterate knitter. More than that, she was exceptional in every way, and Olivia’s admiration for her continued to grow.

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