Page 47 of Spiteful Lies

Charlotte already left earlier, receiving a ride from Bryce. But it’s almost five by the time we’re ready to leave the courthouse. We approach the main door, and Pierce’s hand grips my arm hard. “Fuck,” he scowls, “I hadn’t planned on this.”

Outside on the steps, the press is out in full force, surrounding the door in a semicircle. The street isn’t visible past the people crowding the glass in the double doors. I can see the outline of faces trying to look in.

Slowly, I back away. “I don’t think I can do this.”

A man slips inside and lifts his phone, but a guard steps between us, blocking his view. The men have angry words as the door is opened, and another reporter unsuccessfully tries to slip inside. Pierce grabs my arm and Nova’s as he hustles us quickly toward a stairwell. The door shuts behind us, echoing against the gray concrete surrounding us.

“How are we going to get out of here?” whispers Nova.

Pierce shrugs his shoulders. “We need to look for a back door.” He looks down the stairs into the basement, and it’s doubtful if that’s a way out. The fire door swings open, and they stand in front of me as my knees go weak. I press my hand to the wall to keep from falling on my knees. Fuck, I hate Ted Leister for doing this to me.

The bailiff waves for us to follow her. “There’s a door in the back where the cops park their cars. Someone will give you a ride home.”

“Thank you.” I hope she hears the sincerity in my voice.

She nods. “He’s innocent until proven guilty, but I hope he rots in hell either way.” We follow her back into the hallway and make our way quickly toward the back of the building. She motions for us to wait, and I stand hidden in the open doorway, gulping down as much air as my lungs can take in. The bailiff comes back and points to a man in sunglasses standing by an old Cadillac, the kind that rides like a tank. He looks familiar. “Taylor’s off duty. He’ll take you home in his car.”

I grip her hand. “Thanks again.”

“Stay strong,” she says, “Because you’re in the right.”

We hurry down the brick stairs, out the back, and rush to get inside the car. Soon, we’re on the road back to Stonehaven. The cop is the one who was at Stonehaven when they searched Getz’s office. And before the ride ends, Nova has made a new contact, inviting him to the gym. Our worlds have changed.

I look out the back window, and Pierce gives me a questioning stare. “I just had an unpleasant thought,” I tell him, “Rawlins is going to have a shit fit.”

“No, she won’t.” Taylor looks at me in the rear-view, “I’ll talk to her. She can’t fault you for trying to put a scumbag like Ted Leister away.”

Chapter 31

Astrid

Running into Detective Tariq Taylor yesterday couldn’t have been a coincidence. He must have been waiting by the back door of the courthouse, determined to talk to us and give each of us his card. The bailiff led us to him. No way was that meeting an accident. Taylor wants Ted Leister in prison as badly as anyone else who hates his stank guts. I don’t know the reasons why he wants Leister so badly. I’ll just leave it to my imagination. Maybe Taylor is just a good cop.

I pick up speed, running past the curve in the trail. The exertion loosens up the anger and anxiety that’s gnawing at me. The cold air stings my nostrils as I pick up speed on an incline as I pretend I’m being chased by my demons. It’s early morning, and maybe it’s reckless to be out here alone, but I’m hungry to tell someone off. I want someone to mess with me, so I can whip ass. Yesterday keeps playing on a loop in my mind, and how I almost broke down in the courthouse like a wet, crying baby. Fuck that shit. I did nothing wrong. Let someone start with me today, and I’ll pound their head into the ground.

My toe catches on the pavement, and, stumbling, I catch myself before I fall. Panting, I stop, placing my hands on my knees and bending over at the waist. My breathing is ragged as I try to regain control of my wild daydreams.Check your thoughts because if you don’t, they’ll screw you up. My head has to stay in the fight if I intend to win. And I will win this one. My phone chimes and I unzip my pocket, grabbing it.

Roni: Don’t go online. Please come back to the dorm first.

I sigh, and my steamy breath sends out a burst of exasperation into the still air. Now what the fuck is going on? Of course I’m going on social to look. Standing in the middle of the path, I search Leister. I swear if he gets off, I will lose my shit all over this freaking school. Nothing new on him except an accusation, but what I do find is just as bad. Howland has issued a statement. What does he even know about this? I tap the first item.

Elliot Howland releases statement in Leister sex scandal: I am saddened that my family name has been linked to this scandal. I was unaware of my daughters’ involvement in this unfortunate incident. It could have been avoided if better judgment had been used by all parties involved. I hope that the embarrassing actions of a few misguided individuals will not cast a shadow over Rockingham General Hospital, which has always served and will continue to serve the larger community in an ethical manner. I distance myself and my hardworking staff from the lurid actions of a few individuals who have shown a lack of respect for others and themselves. May justice be swift.

I stare at my phone, unsure if I’m going to shout or cry. Maybe I should laugh at his ignorant arrogance. How could Howland say these things without hearing my side of the story? And it doesn’t escape my notice that he’s still referring to Charlotte as his daughter.

Two-faced to the end.

Besides, Howland is on his deathbed. When did he even have time to make this statement? I sigh as hot tears start to burn my eyes. Holding the waterworks in, I rub my nose until I’m sure it’s redder than a reindeer’s.

My thumb taps out the number to Rockingham General, and the switchboard answers. “I want to talk to Elliot Howland, please.” The tone is thick in my voice. “This is his daughter, Astrid Howland.”

“Hold, please.” The line is silent, and then that canned pop shit starts to play. I wait until another voice comes back on the line.

“Hello, oncology unit.”

“Yes, I want to talk to Dr. Howland. It’s his daughter.”

“Which one?”

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