“Has your business suffered after planning a proposal for a serial killer?” another called.
“Back off,” Luke commanded, jabbing a finger into the breastbone of a short man with a sprinkling of freckles across his milky-white skin.
Finally, after a blur of desperate faces, microphones, and shouted questions, the courthouse doors swung shut behind them. The silence was deafening. After a minor incident at the metal detectors where security confiscated what appeared to be a voodoo doll from Alice’s purse, they approached the courtroom.
Claire’s heart pounded erratically. Just on the other side of those imposing double doors was the man who had fooled her, abducted her, and tried to kill her. The stab wound on her chest burned. Her hands balled into fists at her side. Some days, the anger burned so bright and hot that she wanted to drive to the prison and punch Barney right in the testicles. But the testicle punch would have to wait for another day. She probably wouldn’t even see him.
“Miss Hartley.” Detective Smith stepped in front of the courtroom doors, blocking her path. “This is Ada Washington, a crime victim advocate.”
Ada stepped forward and shook Claire’s hand with both of hers. Barely noticeable wrinkles hugged the corner of her mouth. Her natural hair had been straightened, and her shoulder-length bob shone under the overhead lights. Caramel-colored eyes stared out of cat eye glasses.
“I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances,” Ada said tactfully, releasing her grip on Claire’s hand. “I’ve seen your work. Your proposals are wonderful.”
“Thank you,” Claire said.
“Your family is welcome to proceed into the courtroom,” Ada said with a nod toward Luke and Alice. Luke looked worried, and Alice was rooting through her purse again. “However, because you are a witness, you’ll have to remain outside. Standard procedure,” she said. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to a lounge you can wait in for the duration of the hearing.”
Alice thrust her purse into Luke’s arms and hugged Claire so ferociously that something in her body cracked. Was that a rib?
“Mom, I’ll be fine.”
Alice pulled back and gripped her arms. The worry line between her eyes stuck out more than it used to. She looked back at Luke.
“I know you will, sweetie. I love you.” There was one last suffocating hug, and then she whirled away in a cloud of patchouli and lemon grass.
Luke hugged her more gently, and he pressed his lips to Claire’s ear.
“You can do this.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and then he, too, was gone.
Claire followed Ada a few yards down the hallway. A small, open lounge with a view of the courtyard was littered with outdated wooden benches and tables. Ada provided Claire with a bottle of water and then left.
The rigid wooden chair was as uncomfortable as it looked. A clock on the wall ticked incessantly. Wood polish and cheap, lemon-scented cleaning products perfumed the air. It was going to be a long day.
“There she is!”
Claire glanced up at the loud whisper. Nicole and Mindy, both dressed in power suits, strode down the hallway looking over their shoulders every couple of steps, as though they were expecting to be yelled at.
“You guys,” Claire said, standing as they engulfed her in hugs. “What are you doing here? I told you that you didn’t have to come.”
“Please, like we were going to miss this. You’re not allowed inside?” Nicole asked Claire, laying a hand on her shoulder.
“No. They don’t want the witnesses hearing the testimonies or something,” Claire said.
“Then you’re going to need this,” Mindy said, reaching into her bag and drawing out a gossip magazine and a large thermos.
“Coffee?” Claire asked appreciatively, hefting the thermos.
“Sure,” Mindy said, swooping in for one last hug. “We’ll tell you everything. I’m going to take such detailed notes that the court stenographer will be forced to retire in shame.”
“Love you.” Nicole engulfed Claire in her coconut-scented shampoo briefly before the pair made their way to the courtroom.
Claire surveyed the lounge again. If she leaned to the right, the entrance to the courtroom was just barely visible. She took a notebook with proposal notes out of her purse and stared at it for a moment, willing it to distract her. A diagram of a marching band spread out before her, but she idly tapped her pen against the drum major, unable to focus. People were still filing in to the courtroom, so the proceedings probably hadn’t started yet. How long would this take?
Stilettos snapped across the linoleum. They sounded expensive. Claire glanced up. Rachel. What the hell? Claire stiffened and slid her chair to the left. A loud screech split the air. Hopefully, Rachel hadn’t seen her.
What was the ice queen doing here? Shouldn’t she be sharpening a pitchfork or sacrificing a virgin in a volcano somewhere? Maybe Luke had asked her to come to provide insight.
After a quick glance around the corner to make sure Rachel was indeed gone, Claire took a sip from the thermos, expecting a steaming shot of caffeine. She choked and sprayed a fine mist over her notebook and the table. A hand clapped her on the back, and she nearly knocked the thermos over.