Page 90 of Space Oddities

Thank you for showing me that love doesn’t only exist in romance novels. I hope now you understand why I can’t stay. It was never you. Always me.

Follow your dreams, Ian… from the confines of closets to the vastness of space.

I’ll always believe in you. Love, Trish.

I have enough time to stuff the note inside the envelope and seal it shut before my trailer door bursts open.

Shooting off the chair, I hide the letters in my purse before Jules’ motorcycle boots clomp inside.

“Shortstack, time to go. Stop all your primping.” Hands on her hips, Jules’ five-foot-eight-inch frame looks twice as large in my small mobile home. “You coming or what?”

“I’m coming. I’m coming.” I grab a pair of heels from a kitchen cabinet and slide them on. “Calm down.”

“I’m always calm. Part of my badass nature.” She assesses my footwear, which hike me up to her chin level. “How the hell do you walk in those? I mean, do they need to bethathigh?”

I fuss with my hair in the mirror, waiting for Jules to leave so I can hide the letters somewhere other than the purse I’m taking tonight, but she just stands there waiting.

Sighing, I shoo her through the door and follow her out to where Rose and Jackie are waiting. “Every inch counts.”

“That’s what she said,” Jules and Rose say simultaneously.

Twenty-Two

Pinch Point

Ian

My exhaustion ison another level.

And my anger.

But if it weren’t for my anger to boost the caffeine in my system I would’ve dropped hours ago.

“I need an appointment with Judge Milton.” Mitchell’s voice is calm as he talks to whoever is on the other end of his office phone, but his eyes keep cutting nervously to me. “It’s urgent.” He presses the ice pack his secretary got him tighter over his right eye.

I clench my bruised fist, remembering how disappointed I was when Mitchell dropped after the first right hook. My left fist was primed and ready for the follow-through punch to the solar plexus, but, sadly, it went unused.

Anger surges again when I think about his stupid look of surprise when he finally came to a minute later with me hovering over him. Almost like he couldn’t believe someone had actually raised a hand to him.

Mitchell hangs up the phone. “Tomorrow morning.” He writes something down on a notepad. “I can see the judge first thing and get the process started.”

“Why didn’t you do this sooner?” I shake my head. “I can’t figure that out. I mean, you had Ranos look for her, you were aware of your father’s deception, of her innocence. So why did it take me coming here for you to start the process to revoke Trish’s warrant?”

Mitchell looks out the window and shrugs. “Ranos said Trish was working in Houston. Had a job, going to school, even had friends. Thought maybe it didn’t matter anymore.” He says this all without once looking me in the eye. A dead giveaway that even he knows what he’s saying is bullshit.

“I think it’s more probable you didn’t want to take the chance to mar Daddy’s name, even with him already in the ground.”

No reaction. I glance at the framed family picture on the shelf behind his desk. Mitchell and his wife standing in the back, two kids sitting in front. The stiff setup reminds me of the family portrait I took just a few weeks ago at my father’s fundraiser. Except in this one, it’s the woman whose hands lie authoritatively on her children’s shoulders.

“Oryour wife found out what you were doing and convinced you to stop.”

A flinch tells me I hit upon the truth.

“How long have you and your wife been married?”

The turn in the conversation has him glancing back my way. “Right out of college.”

I nod, the pieces falling into place. “Let me guess. After the judge succeeded in running Trish off he then managed to introduce you to the pretty daughter of a well-connected acquaintance.”

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