Evidence of Mercy (21 page)

Lynda considered it a moment and realized she didn't yet feel safe enough to tell anyone where she was. “No, I'll just meet you somewhere. Call me on my cellular phone before you leave work today.”

“Are you supposed to be driving?” Sally asked.

Lynda hesitated. “Well . . . no. But it can't be helped.”

“Yes, it can. I can bring them to you.”

“Just humor me,” Lynda said. “I'll get over it. It'll sink in eventually that I'm not being hunted.”

“All right,” Sally said with resignation. “Do you want to come to the office?”

“No. I don't think I'm up to seeing everybody yet. How about the Jackson Street Post Office? Then I can just have Paige meet me there too with some stuff she's picking up.”

Sally let out a ragged breath. “All right. But I'll be so glad when all this is over.”

“You think
you
will.”

Paige drove up just as Lynda finished signing some papers Sally needed her to sign. Saying good-bye to her secretary, she got out of her car and got into Paige's.

Paige handed her the Bible, still in its box. “They were expensive,” she said. “You should have just ordered me a paperback one.”

“I wanted you to have that one,” she said. “Did they put your name on it like I told them?”

Paige opened her box and took out her leather-bound Bible. Running her hand across the name engraved in gold, she said, “Yeah, they sure did.” Her eyes were misty when she looked up at Lynda. “That may be the sweetest thing anybody's ever bought me.”

“Well, make it worthwhile. Read it.”

Paige leaned over and planted a kiss on Lynda's cheek. “You're a real friend.”

“I'm trying,” she said. “But I've got a lot of catching up to do.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

A
re you sure you should be here today, Lynda?” Judge Albert Stacey set his elbows on the conference table, assessing her with deep concern. Keith and his lawyer sat on one side of the table, and Lynda sat alone on the other.

She tried to smile, but it was difficult. The long walk through the building had been tiring, and she'd encountered several bouts with dizziness since she'd been here. Everywhere she went, people stared, especially those who knew her. She hadn't even tried to hide the bruises and scrapes on her face. “I feel fine, your honor. And I had to be here today. This motion Mr. McRae is filing is ridiculous and a waste of the court's time.”

The judge turned to Keith's lawyer. “Well, I've reviewed the motion, and my understanding is that your client is concerned about the safety of this child since she was involved in the fire at Miss Barrett's the other night. Am I reading that correctly?”

“Yes, Judge. Mr. Varner feels that his ex-wife has deliberately risked the child's life by staying in the same home with Miss Bar-rett, even after so many attempts have been made on her life.”

“Excuse me,” Lynda cut in. “Be specific, please. How many attempts?”

McRae sat back in his chair with a look that said she was walking proof of his case. “You tell us.”

Rather than telling him anything, she addressed the judge. “Your honor, there were two attempts made on my life. The first was the plane crash I was involved in last week, and the second was, obviously, the fire two nights ago. Paige was staying in my house while I was in the hospital, primarily because she became convinced that the restraining order she had filed against Mr. Varner was not going to stop him from breaking into her home or trying to remove their child from school. At that time no one realized that anyone was after me. It wasn't until after the fire the first night I was home that we realized that.”

The judge turned back to McRae. “So what's the problem exactly? How did Mrs. Varner endanger her daughter's life? Are you saying
she
started the fire or knew it was going to happen?”

“Of course not, your honor.”

Keith couldn't stay quiet any longer. “I'm saying that for all I know she's still staying with her, even though she's aware that someone's out to get her.”

“Your honor,” Lynda said, calling his attention back to her side of the table. “May I?”

He gestured for her to go ahead with her explanations, and she took a deep breath. “First of all, I can assure you that Paige Varner and Brianna are safe and that they have been in no danger—except perhaps from Mr. Varner—since the fire. In fact, they're here in the building as we speak but chose not to come into the hearing because she feared the child would be traumatized by seeing her father.”

“Oh, for crying out—”

The judge's stern look silenced Keith, who gave a disgusted look at the ceiling, as if calling on some unknown entity in the plaster to come to his aid.

“Secondly,” Lynda went on, “the police have a suspect in custody. They captured him yesterday, and he's in jail awaiting his own hearing.”

“Really?” the judge asked, eyebrows raised. “Well, I know that's good news for you.”

“Extremely good news, your honor.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “So a guy was arrested. He could get out on bond within the week if he's the right guy in the first place. How can I be assured that my child is safe?”

Lynda answered the question for him. “Your honor, I can assure you that it's my priority to keep those two safe as well. In fact, that's why theirs is the only case I've kept since my accident and why I came here, against doctor's orders, to make sure the rights of Mrs. Varner and her daughter are adequately protected.”

Judge Stacey studied the motion in front of him, and McRae seized the moment of silence to speak up. “Judge, my client is also concerned with the mother's neglect of the child, her inability to support that child, and her past abuses. Mrs. Varner has lost her job and left her home, and my client worries about her mental stability and her capacity to provide Brianna with what she needs. He's concerned about their whereabouts, as I'm sure you would be if your own children disappeared.”

“Well, your honor, I can answer that as well,” Lynda spoke up. “For the duration of this crisis—and it is a crisis, sir, whenever a battered wife goes into hiding—I am helping my client and her daughter financially. I won't allow them to go without. For the time being, I've recommended that she remain in hiding.”

The judge sat back in his chair. “Well, I'm satisfied that the child is in capable hands and that she's being cared for. As for the allegations of neglect and abuse on either side of this case, that remains to be proven in the appropriate hearing. That's not what this hearing is about. I hereby rule that the child shall remain with her mother until the trial.”

Keith cursed, and his lawyer grabbed his arm, trying to shut him up, but he burst out of his chair and started for the door.

Lynda waited until he was gone then turned back to the judge with a little smile, knowing he made note of the volatile temper. She hoped he was the judge assigned to the custody hearing. “Thank you, your honor.”

Patting her hand, he got to his feet. “Quite impressive that you would come to court in your condition, Lynda. It speaks to your conviction that the child is in the right place.” He leaned over the table and whispered, “And I trust you.”

“I appreciate that, sir. Would you like to confer with Mrs. Varner?”

“No, that won't be necessary.”

She watched him disappear through the door that led to his chambers and picking up the few papers she'd been able to carry in with her, she went back to the conference room where she'd left Paige.

Paige jumped when the door opened then wilted with relief when she saw it was Lynda.

“What happened?”

“We won,” Lynda said. “I told you.”

“Oh, thank God.” She drew Brianna into a crushing hug.

“Where is he? Is he still in the building?”

“No, he's gone. He rushed out cussing and ranting. I'm glad you weren't there.”

“Me, too.” Propping her chin on Brianna's head, she said, “Are you sure we can win next time, Lynda? He's not going to pull a fast one on us and trip us up, is he? He's always been able to do that with me.”

The worry in Paige's eyes touched Lynda. “He won't trip me up, Paige. I'll have so much against him, he won't know what hit him. We'll get everyone who's ever seen him lose his temper into that courtroom. I'll have documentation of every trip to the emergency room, every neighbor who heard him yelling through the walls, every call to 911. I won't leave anything to chance.”

Paige's lips trembled as she took it all in. “It's Brianna's life at stake here,” she whispered, “but if I have to trust anyone to fight for it, I trust you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

K
eith cruised through the courthouse parking garage, looking for Paige's white car. He found it on the third level.

He stopped his car right behind it. The door-lock buttons were down, he could see. He glanced around to see whether there was anyone nearby who might see him when he got out.

Someone was pulling into an empty space a few cars down. And two people across the aisle stood talking beside one of their cars.

He took a piece of paper off the seat next to him, folded it to look like a note, and got out the switchblade he carried in his pocket. Leaving his car idling, he stepped out and glanced at the others in the garage. He still hadn't been noticed.

He set the blank note under her windshield wiper, so it would look as if that was his purpose then pretended to drop his keys. Bending over, he opened his switchblade then slashed her front tire. Still stooped, he went to the back one and stabbed it, too.

He drove around until he found a parking place on the other side of that level from which he'd be able to see her come to her car.

It would take more than a judge to keep him from being with his daughter.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

P
aige held Brianna's hand as they stepped off the elevator into the parking garage. Trying to remember where she had parked her car, she let her eyes sweep over the colors until she came to the white Chevette parked across the garage.

The car parked next to hers began to pull out as she approached, leaving the space next to her car empty. Her step slowed—through that open space, she saw that both tires on that side of her car were flat.

She froze.

She heard a car start across the garage and caught a glimpse of pastel blue pulling out—the color of Keith's car.

Her heart stopped and she dropped her purse, spilling out her car keys, a lipstick, some change. Abandoning it, she grabbed Brianna and bolted back toward the elevator.

Brianna started to cry, but over the child's sobs Paige heard tires screeching. The elevator was taking too long. She scanned the area for a door to the stairway. Quickly, she headed toward it and shoved it open. It clanged shut behind her as she tore down the stairs.

Above her, just beyond the door, she heard a car door slam and footsteps running. The door above her opened, and she heard the click of shoes taking the steps faster than she could move.

Her foot slipped, and she stumbled, skinning her shin against the metal railing. Brianna's screams went up an octave. Reaching out to grab the rail with her free hand, Paige steadied herself and took the next flight down.

But he was right behind her, closing in. “You can't get away from me, Paige!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the stairwell.

As if she only now realized what they were running from, Brianna's shrieks grew more piercing, reverberating through the stairwell. Her little arms tightened desperately around her mother's neck. Struggling to breathe, Paige threw herself at a door on one of the landings.

But just as her fingers grazed the handle, Keith grabbed her shirt and flung her against the wall. He reached for Brianna, but the child fought and struggled and screamed. Bracing herself against the wall, Paige kicked him with all her might.

He fell back, cursing, then rallied and grabbed her hair. He jerked her off-balance, trying to get his arm between her and the child. Then he shoved her back and kicked her feet out from under her. Losing her grip on the child, Paige fell back, stumbling down four stairs and landing on her back.

“Mommmmeeee!” The child's terror rang through the stairwell, echoing off the walls. Keith grabbed her, and she bit his arm and kicked him with her sharp little shoe. He recoiled long enough for her to reach her mother again and attach herself in another strangling grip.

Suddenly the door one flight below them burst open. Startled, Keith let them go and took a step backward, then turned and fled back up the steps.

“Help me!” Paige cried, stumbling down the stairs. She fell into the building and collapsed as a crowd formed around her, Bri-anna still screaming at the top of her lungs, clinging for dear life to her mother.

I
t took twenty minutes to quiet the child's screaming, but she trembled for the next two hours as Lynda and Larry sat with Paige and Brianna, trying to calm them both.

“I searched the whole garage and all around the courthouse, Paige,” Larry said. “He's gone.”

“Can't you—can't you arrest him?”

“We have to find him first.”

“What if he finds
me
first?” Paige shouted. “Who would have ever thought he'd try to snatch her out of my hands right here at the courthouse?”

“He's getting desperate,” Lynda said. “He's liable to do anything.”

“He'll go to every hotel in the city until he finds my car—if I can manage to drive it again after what he did to my tires. He'll find us. I know he will.”

“No, he won't,” Lynda said through her teeth. “You're coming home with me. I'll send someone to change the tires, and we'll get your car later. But you don't need to be alone.”