The Last Invitation (23)
Gabby could only tolerate so much sarcasm before she exploded. Detective Melissa Schone inched close to that line. “Goodbye, Detective.”
Gabby tried to edge around the other woman. The detective was tall with a slight build but managed to take up a lot of space. Maybe it was the gun, but there was something challenging about her, as if she wanted to dare you to try it.
“You should probably also know we found accounts, including two your ex hid from you during the divorce,” the detective said.
The asshole. “I’m not surprised.”
“Fights over lawyers, the house, your daughter. That kind of back-and-forth can generate a lot of hate. The killing kind,” the detective said in a singsongy voice.
Gabby hated every part of this conversation. She was not in the mood to be assessed or tested or whatever the hell this was. “If every person going through a divorce killed their spouse, you’d never have a minute off.”
“My focus is this case, so I’m telling you to stay out of this house and the investigation. Otherwise, I might decide you’re racing to find and hide damaging evidence before I see it.” The detective hesitated for a second before continuing. “You don’t want to be in my spotlight.”
“We agree on that last part.”
“One more thing.” The detective pointed at the air-conditioning vent on the ceiling. “You never know where a security camera might be hidden, so be smarter.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jessa
“Slow down.” Retta poured the tea then placed the delicate cup and saucer on the table in front of Jessa. “I know you’re upset, but you’ve been talking nonstop for five minutes and have yet to match a subject to a verb.”
Jessa inhaled nice and deep. She’d called for reinforcements. She’d asked for advice. That meant she had to push through her usual discomfort and risk looking unsure and incompetent. She faked her way through a lot. It was her advanced coping mechanism, but she couldn’t do that here.
The stupid Bartholomew custody matter sucked up all her energy until she had very little bandwidth left for anything else. “You’d never know I have other clients.”
“Jessa, stay on topic.”
“Right.” Jessa took a big gulp of scalding hot tea and nearly spit it back out again. Her mouth was on fire. She cleared her throat then coughed. “Once that damning motion to remove me from the case is in the court file, other attorneys, my clients—anyone—can look it up and read it. It will be used against me.”
“Just because a motion is filed doesn’t make it true.” Retta held her teacup in front of her, not drinking but not putting it down either. “Once you prove you don’t have a bias, you can ask that the motion be removed. Depending on what good old Stan chooses to say in the document, you might be able to ask for sanctions.”
All after the fact and too late. Jessa wanted to be proactive. She really wanted to go to Darren’s house and set fire to his car, but even she recognized that was over the top. “How do I prove a negative?”
Retta made a humming sound as she balanced the saucer on her legs. “Are you biased?”
“Of course not.”
“‘Bias’ is a loaded word. Try another one—‘decided.’ With all the game-playing, you haven’t made a decision about Darren and what custody arrangement you’d recommend to the court?” Retta looked skeptical.
“No.”
“Jessa, come on.” Retta snorted and managed to sound regal doing it. Probably had something to do with her royal-blue pantsuit and wearing the exact right amount of gold jewelry. “It’s just the two of us in this room.”
“I haven’t heard the evidence or spoken with enough witnesses yet.” That was the right answer. Not really the truth, but the commonsense, good-lawyer answer. “I’m waiting on Dr. Downing’s report, and I don’t think she’s anywhere near ready to make a custody recommendation.”
“Do you think you will ever collect enough evidence to convince Darren he caused this mess?”
Jessa knew the right answer to that one. “Not that guy. No.”
“Do you think Darren Bartholomew’s actions put Curtis in danger?”
“Yes, I—”
“Are you worried about his wife Ellie’s behavior negatively impacting Curtis?”
“Not really.”
“Be more specific.”
Jessa got swept up in the informal cross-examination and didn’t dare fail to answer. “I wish she were . . . stronger so she could fight back against Darren and his connected family. I worry about them running over her, but—”
“Which would endanger Curtis, her son, correct?”
When she put it that way . . . “Well, yes.”
“And he is your only concern here. He is your responsibility, not his parents’ precious feelings.”
Despite what Covington might think, yes. “Right.”
“Then you’ve decided.” Retta’s tone had a bit of a gotcha tone to it.
Jessa wasn’t ready to admit she’d made up her mind this early because it sounded like failure. She should plow through. Remain even and keep listening as the case progressed. “Things could change. The evidence could show—”