The Aftermath (The Hurricane, #2)(47)

“He’s got to be working with someone. He wasn’t arrested with it, so someone’s brought it to him.”

“Look, there’s nothing we can do about that now, so let’s just see how this pans out,” Danny said quietly. I caught eyes with Frank and stared intently. I wasn’t taking any shit from this prick, so I gave him the same look I gave every opponent. The one that told them, without apology, that they were going down. It was the price you paid for going toe to toe with me. It was the price anyone paid for wronging my wife.

After a bit of preamble, Em’s mum was called as a witness. Unlike the woman who first turned up at the cafe to see Em, she’d cleaned herself up. Her newly cut and colored hair sat in a bob around her chin, and she wore a dark suit with a cream blouse and a small gold cross. Nice touch that. Made her seem like a smart, respectable God-fearing woman. She sat down and placed her hands neatly on her lap. After a quiet word from the court clerk, she was sworn in, and when she was done looked straight at Frank. That’s when I knew exactly how this was going to go down. If she was going to do the right thing and give evidence against Frank, she would have avoided his gaze. Losing evidence from the rape kit had killed this case but Em’s mum was about to drive the nails into the coffin.

“So, Mrs. Thomas, I understand that prior to the incident in question, Emily lived at home with you and Mr. Thomas.”

“That’s right,” she answered quietly.

“For how long prior to the incident had Mr. Thomas been living with you?” The lawyer questioned. “And in what capacity?”

“I lost my first husband eight years ago in a car accident. Mr. Thomas helped me through that grieving process, and he moved in about six months later. I’m sorry to say that I wasn’t a good mother at that time but Mr. Thomas helped me raise my daughter, Emily.”

“When Mr. Thomas was, as you say, helping you through the grief of losing your husband, did he at any time offer you any drugs or pills to assist you in dealing with your grief and depression?” She listened to the barrister’s question then looked first at me and then toward Frank. “No,” she said quietly.

“Let me be clear, are you saying that he never offered you as much as a paracetamol?”

“That’s right,” she said again, much too quickly.

“I see. And at any point during your relationship did that change?”

“No,” she answered and didn’t embellish any further. The barrister, seeing that this wasn’t going anywhere, changed tack.

“How would you describe yourself or your behavior during those early periods of grief and depression?” he asked her.

“I don’t remember it in much detail. I do know that there were some days when the pain of grief was so crippling, it felt like waking up with someone sitting on your chest. I’d wake up and forget that my husband was dead, and when I’d remember, I’d have full-blown panic attacks.” The way she described herself left me in no doubt that she was being honest. It was probably the only piece of truth there was to this bitch’s story.

“How was your relationship with your daughter during this time?” he said.

After a slight pause she replied, but this time she looked firmly down at her hands the whole time. “It was difficult. I guess part of me blamed her for the fact that she was still alive while my husband was dead. Emily was an accident you see. I wanted an abortion, but my husband begged me to keep her. I guess I resented the fact that he was gone and I’d been left to raise her alone.”

“I see. And it was during this time that you met Mr. Thomas?” he added.

“Yes,” she added, looking briefly at Frank. “When my husband was alive, I worked part-time as an administrative assistant in the probationary office, with Frank. We didn’t really speak much but then I saw him at a family barbecue. The office staff had organized it for some fundraiser. We got talking and then went for lunch on the next Monday morning. We remained friends until after my husband had passed away.”

“And at this family barbecue where he first noticed you, tell me, were your husband and daughter with you?”

“Yes, but they didn’t meet Frank. Well, Emily did. She was with me, but my husband was helping out with the barbecue.”

“And do you recall whether Frank spoke to Emily during this meeting?”

She looked quickly at Frank. “Yes, but he was very nice to her. He told her that her dress was lovely. That she was very pretty. She liked him. We both did,” she added defensively, looking up at the barrister.

“And Emily would have been around nine or ten at the time?”

“Nine,” she answered suspiciously. “What are you suggesting?”

The barrister held his chin and shook his head. “I’m merely suggesting that Frank paid very little attention to you before he saw Emily. It may be that he formed an attachment to her and used you as an opportunity to get closer to her.”

“Objection!” the defense barrister called out.

“Sustained,” the judge answered. “And please do try and refrain from making wild conjectures in my courtroom. Let’s try to stick with the facts of the case.”

“Yes, your honor,” the barrister agreed respectfully.

“How did Emily react to your marrying another man so closely following the death of her father?”