Heller's Girlfriend (45 page)

Authors: JD Nixon

Tags: #romance, #adventure, #mystery, #relationships, #chick lit

BOOK: Heller's Girlfriend

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A huge media contingent gathered
outside the courthouse each day. I couldn’t take Heller or Daniel
with me as support because they were both witnesses, so Rumbles or
Farrell usually escorted Mum, Dad and me through the crush to the
doors on the days when I was giving evidence. Both men impressed my
parents with their professionalism and politeness, but it was
bittersweet for me whenever Farrell was on duty. Sometimes I’d look
up to find his eyes on me, full of sweet regret.

I tried not to be emotional
during my testimony, but I had to stop a few times to compose
myself, overwhelmed when I remembered the sheer terror and pain to
which Violet had subjected Daniel and me. And despite all of the
preparation and coaching I’d been given by the prosecutors, there
was little cross-examination of my testimony in the end, mostly
because of the evidence. Violet had been far too cocky and her
fingerprints were all over my flat and on the hammer and gun, not
to mention my wine glass and salt container. The prosecutor didn’t
even break a sweat on this case.

Daniel’s experience as a witness
stressed him badly as he was still recuperating. Needing a cane to
walk, his progress through the media scrum was slow and distressing
for him, despite the
Heller’s
men aggressively pushing a
path through. Fortunately his testimony didn’t take too long to
provide, because he hadn’t seen much before Violet shot him; just
me tied up to a chair, bleeding copiously, my hand tied to that
paddle and looking terrified. The defence tried to make a big deal
of the fact that he didn’t see his shooter, but as Violet’s
fingerprints were the only ones found on the gun, that bird wasn’t
flying too high.

Sid accompanied Heller to court
and told me later what happened. Heller took testifying in his
stride, giving his evidence in a composed and convincing way,
despite having to provide extremely personal and embarrassing
testimony about his relationship with Violet. Some of the explicit
photos and texts that she’d sent Heller were circulated to the jury
members as evidence and they all struggled to maintain their
impassive faces as they examined them. He impressed the jury with
his calm manner and good looks. And it wasn’t beyond anybody’s
imagination to understand how a woman could become so obsessed with
him.

Sid told me that Violet sat
still in her seat staring at Heller every second that he was in
court, not paying heed to anything anyone else said or did, not
even the judge. Her fixation didn’t go unnoticed by the good
members of the jury, the judge or by her lawyer, who had to hiss at
her very sharply on several occasions to gain her attention. It
made absolutely no impact on her; she kept her black eyes firmly
focussed on Heller. Heller didn’t so much as glance in her
direction even once. That had to have killed her.

As Sid spoke, I surprised myself
by finding a tiny shred of sympathy inside me for Violet for being
so utterly in love with a man who didn’t reciprocate. That must be
such a painful experience for any woman to endure. But then I
remembered that she’d expressed no remorse at all for her crimes
unless she thought it would benefit her. And I remembered the sight
of my Daniel limping around on his cane, pain creasing his
beautiful face, and my heart hardened to stone again. When I’d
testified, she regarded me with such cold loathing that I’d felt a
frisson of fear running through my body again. I’d never had
someone hate me so much for so little reason.

Although she pleaded not guilty,
she was found guilty of two counts of grievous bodily harm with
intent (one each for Daniel and me). She was sentenced to fifteen
years in prison for each offence, to be served concurrently. Daniel
and I both thought she should have received the maximum penalty of
twenty-five years, but her solid and clean career as a cop and her
extreme infatuation with Heller were considered by the judge to be
mitigating circumstances.

And on hearing that, I found
myself agreeing with something that Gary Warburton had said before
Patricia killed him.

“And they call that justice in
this country?” I ranted one night to Heller, defeated. She would
probably be out on parole in seven years if she behaved herself.
And then she would come looking for me, I had no doubt about that
at all.

“She won’t get the chance,” he
told me. And his voice was so cold and his expression so intense
that a deep shudder ran up my spine, giving me goosebumps. I didn’t
think that Violet would survive for long once she was released from
prison. Heller was the type of man to bear a grudge for a long
time. And he preferred to deal with matters himself, rather than
leaving it to the authorities. I wasn’t really sure how I felt
about that. I couldn’t imagine ever taking blood revenge on another
human being, no matter what they’d done. I wondered how many times
he’d ‘dealt’ with a person in his life. Maybe I really didn’t want
to know.

“Why do you do these things?” I
asked him.

He stared at me unblinkingly. “I
don’t know what you mean.”

And that was the end of that
discussion.

Chapter 34

Almost exactly a year later,
Yoni Lemere’s new movie came to the cinema. It featured a beautiful
and feisty, yet vulnerable, security officer named Millie Harmer.
She was torn between her gorgeous, but mysterious, foreign boss and
the handsome Hollywood actor she’d been hired to guard during a
return visit to his hometown. She ended up saving him from a
gun-yielding obsessive fan (who was not a senior citizen, I noted
wryly). Yoni not only starred as Millie, but was the executive
producer and also credited with the idea for the ‘original’
screenplay. Her new toyboy played the actor she protected.

I forced Heller to go to the
cinema with me to watch it, but I laughed so loudly at the awful
acting, pained expressions and flimsy plot that we were asked to
leave halfway through by the usher. Heller was very offended by the
boss’s terrible heavy accent.

“I don’t sound
anything
like that. That’s so insulting,” he complained afterwards. “I don’t
even have an accent.”

“You do, Heller,” I told him,
smiling.

“No,” he said, wounded. “My
English is perfect.”

“Your English
is
perfect,
but you still have an accent.”

He was affronted by that and the
movie, and refused to return to the cinema to watch it again so I
could see how it ended.

So I sweet-talked Trent into
taking me and we sat in the cinema, feet on the seats in front,
both of us giggling during the entire movie, munching popcorn and
stealing kisses through the boring bits.

Hold on!
I can hear you
say. Trent? Trent Dawson? The man who I said I wouldn’t let
anywhere near me? The celebrity TV host with the bad reputation and
the overexposed wedding tackle? And I would have to admit that,
yes, it was one and the same man.

But how on earth did I end up
snogging
him
at the movies?

Well, I guess that’s another
story altogether.

~~~~~~ ###### ~~~~~~

About the author:

JD Nixon lives in Queensland,
Australia writing and editing for a living during the day, but by
night lets a wild imagination run free.

Discover other titles by
JD
Nixon
at
Smashwords.com
:

Heller series

Heller
(free ebook!)

Heller’s Revenge

Heller’s Girlfriend

Heller’s Punishment

Heller’s Decision (due 2012)