Page 104 of Defend Me

“Drunk and disorderly,” Mike grumbles.

“I see. And was this the first time Mr. Patterson had arrested you for drunk and disorderly behavior?” There’s a long pause. “Your honor, please instruct the witness to answer the question.”

“Young man,” Judge Warner says warningly.

“No,” Mike says.

“Was it the second time?”

Mike shrugs.

“Third?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Okay. Enough times that you can’t remember. Got it. And might getting revenge at Noah for these arrests have anything to do with your testimony here today?”

“Objection, your honor!” Wilbur cries.

“Withdrawn,” I say. “I have no further questions for this witness.”

“Don’t try to play a player, Foghorn,” Grayson mutters,glancing at Wilbur as I take a seat beside him. We fist bump under the table.

The judge calls it a day and the courtroom begins to empty. Alistair gives a brief statement to the press, reiterating our support for Noah and our insistence that the trial is going well. As I shuttle Noah into the town car, I catch a glimpse of Everly Harris, glaring at me through the crowd.

Later that night, I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. I never sleep much during trials. Too much adrenaline. Court went well, despite Dad’s blunder. And Wilbur putting Mike on the stand was a big mistake.

I feel anxious and itchy. I want to see Noah. Just once, just quickly. To see how he’s holding up. I toss and turn, until finally, I decide there’s no harm in one little late-night prowl.

I wrap myself up in a thick sweater and sneak downstairs. The kitchen is shrouded in moonlight as I type in the code to disarm the alarm. I creep down the steps of the terrace and along the path to the guesthouse. The lights are on. I guess I’m not the only one who can’t sleep.

“Hey,” Noah says when he opens the door. He looks happy to see me. “Thought we were in no contact mode.”

“I wanted to see how you’re doing,” I say as he lets me in.

“I’m okay,” he says. “You did great today. I can’t believe they put Mike on the stand.”

I sink onto the sofa as Penny hops up to nuzzle against my side. Noah sits beside me. Being here, in this small space, with her soft warm fur on one side and Noah’s lean, muscular frame on the other, I feel a sense of peace I never imagined for myself. It’s so strange to find it in the middle of a tornado.

“How areyoufeeling?” Noah asks, as he strokes my hair.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m cautiously optimistic.” The truth is, we still don’t have solid proof without Patrick. I can poke all the holes I want but at the end of the day, will it be enough? I glance up at him and decide to keep those thoughtsto myself. “Who was the older actress Mike was talking about?”

Noah rolls his eyes. “I had a thing for Sophia Loren. But, like, when she was younger! Not as an older woman.”

I sit up. “Seriously? Sophia Loren?”

“Yeah,” Noah says. “Why?”

I giggle. “It’s just…so old-fashioned.”

Noah grins. “I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. Pop used to watch old movies on the weekends. I thought she was the bee’s knees, as he would say.”

I laugh outright at that, then lean into him again. “I better go,” I say. “I just wanted to see you.”

“I’m glad you came,” he says, pressing his lips to my hair.

“I bet the sheriff will take the stand tomorrow,” I say. “This is our chance to nail down some real reasonable doubt, Noah—to throw the jury another option besides you. I can’t come out and say I think the sheriff did it. We don’t have evidence to back that up. But I’m allowed to make implications in other ways. Judge Warner is clearly giving Wilbur every break he possibly can.”

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