“Ms. Saunders.” Judge Jenkins banged his hammer. “You have been warned.”
“I am finished.” I held up my hands, palms facing forward. “And I hope the jury will come to a ‘not guilty’ verdict so that Emma and her children can rebuild their lives after this catastrophic event and the violence and misery of the last eight years. And…” I placed my hands on my hips. “So that we can continue striving to end violence against women and girls, not just in this country but around the world.” I steadied my gaze on each juror in turn. “Violence against women and girls is a global pandemic that must be stopped. I think, actually Iknow, all of you good people agree.”
They all held my unwavering, determined stare for a few moments.
And then I sat and neatened my notes by tapping their bases on the table.
My heart was pounding. Had I done enough? Had I hit the right note? I hoped so. It was my best shot. It was all I had.
Emma was being led out with her shoulders hunched and dabbing at her face.
I conjured a vision of her at home—a new home, safe, smiling, and with her children, this part of her life tucked away in the past. That was what I wanted for her, and maybe if I thought enough about it, it would happen.
“Good luck,” Joseph said to me.
“Thanks,” I muttered. Luck shouldn’t be anything to do with the justice system. It was about truth and facts, nothing more and nothing less.
The courtroom emptied. I was permitted to leave but I had to stay in the building. The jury could come back in at any moment with their verdict. If they were out for less than twohours it meant all twelve had reached the same conclusion. After that they only had to get a majority of ten to reach a verdict.
I was last to leave the courtroom, and as I did so I glanced upward.
Finn was gone. The public gallery was empty.
A little pang of disappointment hit me, and I realized that I’d hoped to speak to him.
Clearly, he was busy doing whatever it was he did.
I headed down the corridor to the communal office I used when in court. The ceilings of the old building were high, and drab landscape paintings in dusty frames hung above a dado rail. I passed a water cooler and a cleaning trolley then turned a corner. There was no one around.
“Hey.”
Suddenly a hand wrapped around my upper arm, and I was pulled to the right.
“What the…?” My breath caught, and I spun. “Finn?”
He grinned devilishly at me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Shh, I’m not supposed to be here.”
“Too right you’re not.” There was still no one in sight. “How did you get in here?”
“I have my ways.” He tapped the side of his nose and grinned.
“But…there’s…”
“It doesn’t matter.” He glanced to his right and then reached for a door handle. He pushed the door open. It had a small brass sign on it that readStationery. “Come in here.”
“I can’t. We…”
I didn’t say anymore because the sexy Irish guy I’d been fantasizing about wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me into a dark, quiet cupboard and shut out the world.
Chapter Two
Finn
Fuck, the woman was goddamn beautiful, even more so with surprise in her eyes. When she’d been giving her closing statement a thrill had gone through my body, starting in my toes, going over my scalp, and giving me a boner that could hammer nails into wood.
I hadn’t planned on sitting in the public gallery today. I’d come to the courthouse with the intention of taking Rebecca for a coffee—our date on Friday was too long to wait, and besides, I had a proposal to swing by her. But when I’d seen the public entrance to the court open and people wandering in, I’d done the same and taken a seat in the gallery.
And wow, I was glad I had. Law was clearly her passion. She’d spoken from the heart, clear, succinct, yet getting into the mind of every juror. There was no way they could find this poor woman, Emma, guilty of murder. That would be fucking insanity.