Page 2 of The Twins
Because hehadbeen on my mind. Ever since I’d met him the previous week, or rather helped him get out of a sticky situation that had landed him in a police cell, I’d been having distinctly dirty thoughts about what I could do with his honed and toned body.
His intense gaze bore into mine, and the right side of his mouth tipped into an almost imperceptible smile.
It was clear he was there for me.
To watch me.
See me in action.
I’d agreed to dinner with him on Friday. Perhaps, like me, he’d thought that was too long to wait.
I cleared my throat and turned away from him, pulled in a deep breath. I had a job to do, and a handsome guy with a seductive Irish accent was not going to distract me.
The prosecution, Joseph, stood in a bluster of self-importance and began his closing. His language was sharp and emotive. He concentrated mainly on why Emma had a gun in the first place, a premeditated crime, he said, and rattled on about her being an unfit mother.
I’d learned to control my anger in these situations. It was a case that should never have come to the criminal court. But here we were, and it was up to me to convince the jury that Emma was no more a danger to society than I was.
Because in all honesty, I would have shot her abusive asshole husband too. Probably long before she had.
When Joseph finished, the jury were wide-eyed. Some had taken notes and some had their arms folded, giving nothing away.
Judge Jenkins gave me look. I resisted glancing up at Finn, though I could practically feel his gaze on me—a heated dark caress that lay like a blanket over my shoulders.
I stood. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have been witness to the evidence put before you in the case of the Crown versus Emma Tippin, and I hope you will come to the right conclusion. Theonlyconclusion. And that is to find Emma Tippin not guilty of murdering Daniel Tippin. Why do I say this?” I gestured to Emma who was seated behind a glass screen and flanked by two police officers. “Because it is a truth. This woman is not a murderer. She is a victim of domestic abuse. Evil, coercive domestic abuse that, as you have seen, nearly took her life on several occasions. You have observed with your owneyes the photos of the bruising, the strangulation marks, you have seen for yourself the deformities in her hands from having them slammed repeatedly in doors.” I paused and studied each juror individually. “Wouldn’t you feel murderous if someone had subjected you to such torture?”
“Objection.” Joseph jumped up. “Inappropriate statement.”
“Ms. Saunders, please stick to the facts.” Judge Jenkins frowned at me.
“Yes, Your Honor.” I resisted a shrug; what did it matter? The words were out there now and in the jurors’ minds. “You have heard from Emma how she got the gun, illegally yes, she’s admitted that crime. She’s also admitted that she had it for self-defense. Her husband had fists and knives and rope, she had a gun, a fair fight, I’d say, especially when she had two children to defend from his vicious and violent temper.” Again I paused. “And you’ll remember how little Sammy had started to get beatings for trying to protect his mummy and on one occasion he was thrown down the stairs, resulting in a fractured wrist.”
I studied my notes, again letting the information settle. I took a sip of water and cleared my throat. “On the night of the attack, we have heard of Mr. Tippin’s drunken rage, neighbors have sat in the stand and concurred with Emma’s statement. His words clearly heard through the wall…and what were those words? Do you remember? I’m sure you do, no decent human would be able to forget them.” I set my attention on Emma.
A single tear ran down her face.
I went on. “I am going to kill your ugly children, gut them and make you watch, you bitch, and then I’m going to gut you, but keep you alive so you suffer for as long as possible. And then, you’re all going in a hole I’ve already prepared in Standon Forest. It’s there, your hole, waiting for you, for all of you. You’ll be in the dirt, the shit, where you belong, whore.”
A shudder went through me. It wasn’t the first time this had happened during this particular case. Daniel Tippin had been the devil himself and was no doubt partying in Hell right now.
One of the jurors let out a small sob and wiped the corner of her left eye.
Good. That was what I wanted. Understanding, empathy, a clear picture of the moments before Emma had pulled the trigger and put a bullet through the bastard’s heart.
If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t be here now.
“And we heard, from Emma herself, how she huddled in the bedroom, the children tucked behind her, and begged for their lives. How Daniel raged, how he smashed through the door, a carving knife in his hand. We’ve heard how she truly believed she and her children were about to die. That they were breathing their last breaths and this man was going to murder them all.” I paused, and for some reason my gaze went up to the public gallery.
Finn was steely-faced, his mouth a tight straight line, and his shoulders drawn up as though he were a spring ready to burst into action.
He tilted his chin and held my gaze.
I turned away. “Can you imagine that moment? Can you put yourself in Emma’s place—?”
“Objection.” Joseph stood, raising his arm and wafting his robe dramatically.
Judge Jenkins frowned. “Stick to the facts, Ms. Saunders.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” I nodded. “This was self defense, nothing more and nothing less. Emma had a right to defend herself and her children from a monster who had shown in the past just how violent he was, and was now threatening andplanning to kill them in the most gruesome and horrific of ways. Why this is being tried as a criminal case God only knows.”
