Page 69 of Claimed by Him

“I’ll rephrase,” he said with a smarmy smile. “What names were you given by your parents, when you were born?”

“Rona Elizabeth Jacobe.”

“Why did you change it?”

Vijay had warned me that the first thing McCloud would do would be to try to get under my skin and make me come across as a hostile witness, which meant that no matter how inane I found his questions, I couldn’t lash out.

“Two reasons,” I said evenly. “It made things easier to have the same last name as my Uncle Anton, and I had no desire to be connected to the man who’d killed my mother and two other women, and who tried to kill me.”

“Because you hate your father.”

Vijay stood. “He’s testifying, Your Honor.”

“Mr. McCloud, stick with questions.”

He smiled at the judge. “Of course, Your Honor.” He looked back at me. “Do you hate your father, Miss Jacobe?”

I clenched my jaw.

“Your Honor, please ask Mr. McCloud to address the witness by her legal name.”

“Mr. McCloud…”

He held up a hand. “Sorry, Your Honor.” He gave me an expectant look.

“My feelings about my father are…conflicted,” I answered honestly.

“But one of those feelings is hate, is it not?” He adjusted his tie. “In fact, for a year before the tragic deaths of your mother, Annabeth Khaled, and Darcy Fitzsimmons, the two of you were constantly at odds. You got into trouble, and he laid down the law, and you hated him for it.”

“Your Honor…”

“If you don’t have a question to ask, Mr. McCloud–”

“I do, Your Honor.” His eyes narrowed as he focused in on me. “Did you hate both of your parents, Miss Jac-sorry, Miss Quick? Didn’t you have a real motive to want them out of your life?”

Okay, I hadn’t seen this line of questioning coming. Getting me angry, discrediting my memories, those made sense. Him accusing me of the murders? That was crazy.

“I was thirteen,” I said. “I argued with my parents, but I didn’t want them dead.”

“Not even after they refused to let you go to the Carlisle pool party the previous week?”

I frowned. “You think I killed…you think I’d commit murder over a pool party?”

“Wouldn’t you?” He walked back to his table and picked up a picture. “Defense exhibit four, Your Honor.” He handed it to me. “What’s shown in that picture?”

My stomach flipped. “My diary from when I was a kid.”

“Would you read the highlighted portion?”

“Your Honor, we received no notice of this evidence.” Vijay was on her feet again, her cheeks flushed.

“The diary was in the original evidence boxes,” McCloud said. “Ms. Castellanos has had it available to her for nearly ten years.”

“He’s not offering the diary,” Vijay countered. “Just a picture, which wasn’t included in the original evidence. There’s no way to authenticate that the pages in the photo actually belong to Miss Quick.”

“Miss Quick’s word should be enough for verification, Your Honor.”

“You’re calling her credibility into question and want to use a credible testimony from her to do it?”

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