Page 29 of Say Yes to the Death

The judge dropped into the chair next to Alice. She leaned in and whispered something too low for Claire to hear. The judge patted Alice on the hand before standing back up.

“I have a courtroom to run. I expect everyone except Alice—and the witnesses,” she said with a stern glance at Claire and Sawyer, “to be back inside and ready to proceed with the hearing in five minutes.” She spoke with no room for argument and disappeared through a side door.

“I’m going to have to ask you folks to return to the lounge area,” the cop said to Claire and Sawyer.

“I’m just going to make a quick pit stop,” Sawyer said as he headed to the restroom.

Mindy released Claire and gave her another hug. When she pulled back, her mouth formed an O of surprise.

“Claire, your face?—”

“What about it?”

“Mindy, we have to go in,” Nicole hissed, waving at her friend.

“Scrub it,” Mindy whispered, mimicking Sawyer’s hand motion from earlier.

“Why the hell is everyone telling me to scrub my face?” Claire muttered to herself, shaking her head. She cast one more glance at Alice, who was still handcuffed to the chair and staring daggers at the courtroom doors.

Her footsteps echoed in the hallway as she made her way back to her table. She was certain she had applied her foundation earlier. Maybe her bronzer was uneven? She dug through her purse until she found the small, striped compact Nicole had given her for her last birthday. She flipped it open and gasped in horror.

The word “vagina” was stamped in yellow across her cheek. She glanced at the magazine on the table. The glossy paper was warped over an article titled “Is my vagina normal?”

“Oh my god.” She desperately scrubbed at her cheek. It wasn’t going away.

“Here,” Sawyer said as he reappeared. He handed her a damp paper towel.

“Thank you,” she said, slapping it onto her skin and rubbing. She pulled the paper towel away to check her progress. So much for painstakingly blended foundation. She was going to look like a red-faced teenager when the press swarmed her after the hearing. No wait, it was worse than that. “It’s still there,” she groaned. Was she going to have to walk around for the rest of her life with a stab wound and the word “vagina” staining her cheek?

“Let me,” Sawyer said, taking the chair next to hers.

Claire wondered briefly if he would accidentally crush her head but handed him the paper towel.

He gently gripped her chin and tilted her face toward him. He smelled like summer, bright citrus mixed with sunshine. His rough hands were gentle as he rubbed at her cheek. It was oddly erotic. She leaned the rest of her body away from him. How awkward. She barely knew him, and she had a boyfriend (didn’t she?). Even if he was a grumpy, pathological liar.

“Much better.” He balled up the paper towel and tossed it ten feet away into a trashcan.

“I’m no longer a walking billboard for reproductive organs?”

“Not for that one, anyway,” he said apparently without thinking, because a millisecond later, his face was as red as the traffic light outside. “I mean, there’s only so much you can do about—uh, you know what? Never mind.” He cleared his throat and stood, walked over to the window. He clasped his hands behind his back, as though the tiny courtyard he was surveying was his kingdom.

Claire suppressed a snort laugh and went back to her slightly warped magazine. Her eyes were fixed on an article about celebrity beach bodies, but her mind was racing. Her anxiety, which had already been at heart-palpitation level the entire morning, inched up another notch. Kyle had said the preliminary trial would be a slam dunk, and that there was more than enough evidence for Barney’s case to go to trial. But what if the universe was gearing up to smite her? Why the hell was Rachel representing Barney? What did Rachel say that set Luke off so much? Something about the recycling? And how long would it be until Alice made a voodoo doll of Rachel?

After a small eternity, the courtroom doors opened again. She and Sawyer both stood, uncertain if they were allowed to approach. Nicole and Mindy shoved their way to the front and half jogged to Claire.

“It’s going to trial,” Nicole blurted out, wrapping Claire in another rib-cracking hug.

Claire audibly exhaled, a breath that felt like she had held it the entire morning.

The girls began talking over top of each other. “Rachel tried to make you seem like an alcoholic,” Mindy began.

“What?” Claire interrupted. An alcoholic? Sure, she had indulged in more wine this week than she normally did. But if getting abducted and being grilled by Rachel didn’t excuse a couple extra glasses of wine, what did?

“Totally victim-blaming, very tone deaf in this political climate and—” Nicole interrupted. She talked with her hands when she was upset. Her princess-cut diamond nearly slashed Claire’s cheek.

“Also, I need you to find out where Luke’s mom lives,” Mindy interjected. “On an unrelated note, I need to go to the grocery store and buy six dozen eggs, a blow-up sex doll, aerosol hairspray, and a crème brûlée torch,” Mindy said.

“That bad, huh?” A ball of lead had formed in Claire’s stomach. She picked up the thermos that was on the table and took a big sip. If she was already an alleged alcoholic, she might as well embrace it.

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