Safe Harbor (The Lake Trilogy, Book 3) (39 page)

“Can you tell us about the day Gregory Meyer served you with divorce papers?” Luke inquires.

“Yes. I told him the day before that I was pregnant. I was nine weeks pregnant and my husband told me he wanted a divorce,” she begins.

“Mr. Weston,” Judge Harris interrupts. “I understand you intend to call
two more ex-wives to give similar testimony of their marriages to Gregory Meyer. Is this correct?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Luke answers with a quizzical tone. I look at Will and furrow my brow, confused.

“Mr. Rossen, will the prosecution stipulate that the rest of the defense’s witnesses will give similar testimony as Mrs. Morcos and Mrs. Meadows?” the judge asks. She seems a bit annoyed, but it could be the black robe and pedestal she’s seated on.

“For the most part, Your Honor. I would stipulate that the rest of the testimonies to be given resemble Mrs. Meadows’ more than Mrs. Morcos’s,” he answers.

“But you will agree that the remaining testimonies will not provide any information that greatly differs from what we’ve already heard, including the testimony of the defendant’s mother,” Judge Harris reiterates, now slightly even more perturbed.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Rossen says with the same confused tone as Luke’s.

“Excellent. I’m ready to sentence. Will the defendant please stand,” she instructs.

We all look at each other, not understanding exactly what is happening. Is this is a good thing? Doesn’t she need to hear what all of the ex-wives have to say? If she doesn’t let Marlene testify, she’ll never know about how Meyer tried to force her into an abortion. If she doesn’t let Eliana speak, she’ll never hear about how Meyer constantly threatened to take Will away from her if she tried to leave.

Maybe she just feels that the testimonies are an unnecessary formality. Perhaps she had enough dealings with Gregory Meyer to know that, while Holly has to face some consequences for her actions, what she did really was a service to the community. Yes, I’m sure that’s it.

“Holly Reynolds, you have pleaded guilty to the murder of Gregory Meye
r. You’ve agreed to a plea of manslaughter and the prosecuting attorney has submitted a sentencing recommendation for five years.” Judge Harris pauses, reviewing the documents in front of her. “Based on the heinousness of the crime, I’m hereby sentencing you to the maximum 144 months, or 12 years, including the seven months you have already served. You may be eligible for parole in 72 months, or six years.”

The court erupts in gasps
and Holly covers her face with her hands. Luke and Mr. Rossen look at each other wide-eyed, confused as to why the judge would hand down such an extreme sentence when Rossen made a clear recommendation for a five-year sentence. I see Holly’s body shaking either from crying or sheer shock.

“Your Honor, Mr. Rossen’s office has reviewed the evidence and agreed
that a five year sentence is truly a fitting punishment for Ms. Reynolds. She has no prior charges and is not a threat to her community. I urge you to reconsider…” Luke begins with a respectable fury.

“Counselors, approach the bench,” Judge Harris demands.

“What’s going on?” I ask Will.

“I don’t know. I don’t understand why she would give Holly
the maximum sentence. At least she didn’t change the charges to murder and give her the death penalty,” Will says. He’s looking at Holly with sad eyes. As angry as we both were with her the last time we saw her, we never wished this on her. We were all so sure that she’d be out in five years like Luke said.

“
The judge had to have been totally duped by Meyer,” Wes says, leaning across in front to Eliana. “Why else would she give Holly the max? It’s almost like she’s taken Meyer’s death personally.”

I watch
Holly’s parents. Gordon leans over and brushes Holly’s back sweetly. Marlene doesn’t move an inch and I can’t help but wonder if she’s relieved. Now Marlene has all the time in the world and won’t have to worry a bit about pretending she’s going to save any of Will’s monetary gift for her.

Luke and the other attorney are dismissed from Judge Harris and take their places at the
ir respective tables. Luke makes it known that he plans on appealing her ruling, to which Judge Harris replies, “Duly noted, Mr. Weston.” The judge adjourns court, we all stand, and Holly is escorted from the courtroom back to jail.

The family and ex-wives gathe
r in the hall outside the courtroom while we wait for Luke. I see Agent Croft and wonder if he had been there the whole time.

“Agent Croft,” I call to him as I approach. “When did you get here?” I ask him.

“I slipped in right after everything got started. I don’t like all the pomp and circumstance,” he says with a smirk. “Crazy how things went down in there.”

“I know. I’m dying to know what
the judge told Luke and the other attorney,” I tell him. I can’t stop shaking my head in disbelief. “Is Agent Lassiter here?”

“He was, but had a meeting. I was hoping you’d get to meet him. He’ll be at the exchange on Thanksgiving, but probably already in place when you and Will arrive.”

“I guess we’ll just have to connect after, you know, everything,” I say awkwardly. I’m not well versed in how to casually discuss things like meeting a possible murderer to give him $250,000 in exchange for information on where to find the person her murdered.

Luke bursts
through the doors of the courtroom and finds us immediately while the other attorney takes off down the hall. “We’ve got a problem,” he says. “I don’t know what they’re relationship was, but Judge Harris and Gregory Meyer
had
to have had something going on.”

“What did she say?” Claire asks her slightly frantic husband.

“She lit into us about what an upstanding citizen and outstanding attorney Greg was, and how she couldn’t believe that we would even think to charge Holly with anything less than murder,” he explains.

“But I thought you said the judge has to sign off on the charges that are being laid against the defendant. If she signed off on them,
why would she be so furious?” Eliana asks. Wes is holding her by the waist with her hand in his.

“A judge has the right to reject the sentencing agreement. They’re not legally bound to
the number of years we’ve agreed on, even if they sign off on it. But…she didn’t sign off on it. Judge Bell was assigned to this case. He had a heart attack last week and has been in the hospital. Just Harris only got the case on Thursday. Had there been enough time, she probably would have rejected the plea agreement. In that case Rossen and I would have worked something else out. Not that it would have mattered.” Luke starts moving us as a group down the hall and toward the exit. “Rossen is still in agreement with five years for manslaughter, so at least we’re straight there. But I think I’m going to have to do some digging. I don’t know Harris well. She was a prosecutor when I was with the firm, but I never had any cases with her. She’s a new judge, which makes me think she and Meyer had something going on at some point.”

“I’ll start working on it,” Wes tell
s Luke.

“So what happens to Holly now?” Will asks.

“Well, Holly’s going to be processed and sent to the women’s prison in Raleigh. I’ll work on her appeal here and try to find a way to get it overturned. We’ll have to find something that would have been grounds for Judge Harris to recuse herself from the case in order to make that happen. There was nothing illegal about Holly’s sentencing, so we’ve got to find the smoking gun. It could take
months
to find the proof we need.” Luke looks defeated, like he’s going to do his best to help Holly, but he’s not all that confident that he’ll be able to come through for her. “C’mon…the press is waiting.”

We step outside and there is a swarm of news reporters with their
microphones on and lights flashing. At the center of it all is Holly’s mother. The cameras are rolling and she’s called action.

“I’m devastated about the sentencing today. I don’t know why the judge would rule
so harshly, but I must continue to believe in our judicial system and know that she did the best she could with the evidence she was presented. My husband and I must say goodbye to our daughter now. We know we won’t see her for some time and want to spend some time with her before she leaves. Thank you for respecting our privacy.” Marlene dabs the corners of her eyes with a tissue and walks away with Gordon trailing behind her like a sad puppy dog.

“Luke! Luke! What do you have to say about today’s sentencing?” random male voice
s call out.

“We’re disappointed by the sentence today. The prosecuting attorney’s office and I reached a plea agreement and Judge Harris, within her legal authority, rejected the
terms. We
will
be appealing this sentencing. I have no further comment at this time.” Luke delivers his bad news with a stone face and tone. This is a bigger blow to Luke than I thought it would be.

The reporters call out to Will and Eliana for a statement of some kind but they don’t answer. Luke makes his way to see Holly while the rest of us walk in a huddled, protected group to our cars. We hug and agree to talk later when we’ve all had a chance to rest and process how quickly things went sour today.

“How are you?” I ask Will as we drive down the long stretch of highway back to Davidson.

“I was angry at Holly for how she used me, how she deceived all of us. But…she doesn’t deserve this,” Will says sadly.

“Luke is going to work it all out. Wes will find the evidence they need that Judge Harris and your father were connected somehow, and she’ll get another chance.” I take Will’s hand in mine and graze my thumb across his knuckles. “It may take a while, but it’ll work out.”

“I hope so. I don’t ever want to see Holly again, but I don’t want her to suffer an unwarranted punishment,” he says, giving me more evidence that my husband is
nothing
like his father.

“Luke will take care of, Will. He always does.”

It is Thanksgiving morning and I should be waking up with excitement and joy in my belly instead of the freaked out butterflies that I can’t seem to get calmed down. I curl up next to my husband and we hold each other tightly, knowing what this day is going to bring.

“We need to have a real conversation about today, Will,” I say him, keeping my head resting on his bare chest.

“We’ve had plenty of conversations about today, Layla. There’s nothing really to discuss.” Will strokes my arm that is laying across his stomach. I close my eyes and savor every pass his fingers make from my shoulder to my fingertips.

“We’ve talked about logistics and key words and phrases, how to be cooperative without compromising, and how to make sure we get as accurate information as possible. What we haven’t talked about is the reality that one or both of us could get seriously hurt…or worse,” I say.

“I know. I don’t want to go into it thinking the worst. I want to go into this believing that I’m going to sit down to Thanksgiving dinner with my wife and our family in our home tonight. Remember what Croft said. We have to be aware of the negatives but focus on the positives. Focus on how it’s going to feel to tell Blasi’s family that they can give their husband, their father the proper burial he deserves.” Will pulls me tighter to him, making me feel as safe with him as I always have.

“You’re right. It’s just…It’s made me think about something I’ve been wanting to ask you,” I tell him. “The day we first saw Lingle Chapel together, you and Pastor Bishop seemed like you had known each other for years. What was that about?”

“Oh, that, well…my mom used to take me to church when I was kid. My dad
obviously
didn’t go, and it was kind of the one thing that my mom was allowed to do with me. We went for years actually. It wasn’t until I was about ten that Dad forbade us from going. He ran into one of the other pastors at the coffee shop and he came on a little too strong with Dad about the importance of going to church as a family. He didn’t like being made to look bad, so we had to stop going. We just resorted ourselves to going when Dad was out of town. Dad being gone over the weekend didn’t happen that often, so we eventually just dropped off the church grid. Pastor Bishop kept in touch, though. He was always so great to us.” Will moves to his side so we’re facing each other now. “How did all this make you think of that?”

“I don’t know…thinking the worst I guess. I was thinking it might be nice to try going to church. I mean, I like Pastor Bishop,” I say, not really sure why I feel like we should go. Maybe it’s that I’m thinking if we both make it out of this alive, we’re going to owe God something. I figure a couple of hours once a week is a small price to pay.

“Sure. We can go,” Will says with a smile. “I’m sure Pastor Bishop will be happy to have us.”

“I love you, Will.”

“I love you, too, Layla. Thank you for saying yes.”

“Thank you for asking.”

We stare into each other’s’ eyes and somehow I know Will is feeling the same thing that I am, asking the same questions.
What happens if one or both of us doesn’t come home today? What do I want my last memory with Will to be?
As if on cue, we lean into each other, our lips meeting. Will pulls me close to him before moving above me. Yes, this is the last memory I want with my husband. I want to remember the feeling he gives me in these moments of perfection…the love, the peace, and the knowledge that we are everything each other needs. So we spend the early morning hours savoring each other before the unknown of the day takes over.