Page 5 of Happily Never After

Kyle’s eyebrows knit together. “Most criminal cases end in a plea deal. There are some good features. You won’t have to be involved with a lengthy, public trial. The press will back off sooner rather than later. There won’t be a jury for him to manipulate or pay off. He’ll have guaranteed jail time. He won’t be able to flee the country. And the time he spends in prison will give the FBI time to build a case against him for the other victims.”

She collapsed into the purple flowered accent chair across from Kyle. “There’s onlyonebody. We don’t even know that they’ll have enough evidence to convict him. How is he going to plead?”

“Guilty to one count of second-degree felony aggravated assault. But we won’t accept that. He almost killed you.”

“I don’t understand. So he wouldn’t be charged with attempted murder? How long would his sentence be?”

Rachel laid an ice-cold hand on Claire’s shoulder. Claire jumped and reached up, then paused in midair. Months of self-defense training had led her perilously close to flippingher potential future mother-in-law over her head. She lowered her hand and tried to refocus. If Professional Stick-up-the-ass Rachel Islestorm, Esquire was comforting her, the next words out of Kyle’s mouth were going to be catastrophic.

“Ten years in Pennsylvania,” he said. “They’re asking for five. But we won’t accept that. We can’t. I can make a recommendation to the judge of first-degree felony and the maximum sentence of ten years.”

No way had she heard that correctly. Her stomach clenched. Was the room spinning? She jumped to her feet, throwing Rachel’s hand off as though it were a damp towel.

“Ten years?Tenyears? Are you fucking kidding me? He’ll be thirty-eight when he gets out. So what, he serves a few years, gets out early on good behavior, and returns to stalking and murdering his ex-girlfriends?”

Her airways constricted. Never had she dreamed that she could see Barney on the streets of West Haven again. What would stop him from stalking her again? From taking more victims?

Kyle cleared his throat. The tension in the room was tactile. “The judge has to accept the plea bargain too. She could sentence him more harshly.”

Rachel spoke from the corner of the office. “You’ll have the opportunity to give a victim impact statement before the judge officially announces sentencing. It could result in a greater sentence for Barney.”

Claire stared at the ceiling. It was up to her to convince the judge to keep Barney in prison for as long as possible. If she failed, Barney could get out even sooner. More women could be in jeopardy. How was that fair? How wasanyof this fair?

Kyle stood quickly. He shifted from one foot to the other and put his hands in his pockets. “We can talk more aboutit tomorrow. Maybe at brunch? And give you some time to process.”

Process. There was no processing something like this. Between the insane California proposal she had just taken on and Tuesday’s meeting with the bank, her mental bandwidth was already gone. Her hands shook, and she clenched them into fists.

Kyle paused with a hand on the door. “It’s our best bet, Claire. There’s no telling what he’s capable of.” He squeezed her hand and wrenched the door open, then turned at the last second. “There’s one other thing.”

What else could there possibly be? She was going to lose it.

“The hearing is this coming Thursday.” He lobbed that grenade and walked out of the room.

Perfect. Less than a week to write a statement that would hopefully send Barney to prison for the maximum sentence. As if next week wasn’t going to be stressful enough already.

Claire and Rachel were silent for a long moment before the older woman walked to the door. She turned around at the threshold, the martini sloshing in her hand. “He’s right, you know. Mr. Windsor is very wealthy and very connected. The plea bargain is the safest way to make sure he stays in prison, and the best way to keep other people safe.” She shut the door behind her.

Claire sat, frozen in her chair. Laughter and the sounds of chanting came from the kitchen, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t.

Seconds later, somebody kicked the door open. She was too numb to react.

“What are you doing in here alone? Weirdo. Here.” Mindy stormed in with a mini cheeseburger and a fresh glass of wine. She handed both to Claire and stared pointedly at her until she got to her feet.

An hour later, after a third glass of wine, Claire decided to put all thoughts of the trial behind her. And she certainly wasn’t going to think about her meeting with the bank on Tuesday. Her mop of curly blonde hair was twisted back and bound by what felt like a thousand bobby pins. The night air was cool as she viciously hurled a beanbag at the cornhole board. The bag slid up the polished wood surface and dropped cleanly through the hole.

She cheered and triumphantly looked around. It had only taken her twenty-six attempts to get it in the hole. Where the hell was everyone? Rosie, who was rolling in something sure to be smelly, seemed to be the only being left outside.

“Guys?” Claire called, but no one answered. Her shoulders tightened. Surely the party guests hadn’t all been abducted and murdered while she was ten yards away. There was no need to be nervous.

The bartender shrugged and offered her a glass of water. She took it and walked, bemused, back into the house. The ballroom was empty. The hallway was empty. But voices came from the kitchen.

“Oh, Bri!” Claire nearly shouted, setting her glass on the island and racing to embrace her famous actress half sister, Brianna Hartley, who appeared to have just arrived.

Brianna squealed and drew Claire into a tight hug. The remainder of the party attendees stood at a small distance, wide-eyed and seemingly sneaking pictures with their phones.

“I’m so glad you could come!” Claire returned the hug eagerly, delighting in its warmth. “How was your flight? Do you have the?—”

“Yes, he’s here. This is Jeremy,” Brianna said, gesturing to a tall, lanky man with the posture of a thirteen-year-old who was glued to a video game console.

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