The Defendant Read online

  The tears that Josie had tried so hard to hold at bay escaped and filled her eyes. He’d been protecting the mother he loved from harm; he’d been acting upon a normal and natural instinct that had been around since the beginning of time. For that very selfless act he was being punished and she couldn’t believe how wrong it all felt.

  With a harsh sob, she pulled him into her arms and gulped through the tears that choked her. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t just. Like Daniel had said, it was simply the way it was.

  Jason murmured in his sleep and Josie made a monumental effort to regain control. With a shuddering breath, she eased her hold until her arms were loose against Daniel’s body. Once again, he stared up at her with eyes that had seen too much.

  “It’s going to be okay, Josie,” he whispered. “You’ll see.”

  She bit her lip hard to stop from crying out and managed a jerky nod. She looked across at Jason and then back to his brother. Love swelled in her heart and the power of it took her breath away. These boys, almost strangers, had crept inside her heart and filled her with such longing it was almost painful in its intensity.

  In that pure moment of truth between her and the boy beside her, a clarity dawned on her—loving Chase had been easy, losing him was beyond any pain she could describe, but if she ever hoped to have a chance at love again and have a family of her own, she needed to find out his reasons for leaving and finally have an answer to the question that had dogged her for so many years.

  Over time, the pain of his abrupt departure had eased, but it had never gone away. Now, more than anything, she needed answers. She needed to find closure. Then, she could put it all behind her and look to the future. She could open her heart to finding love again; to making new dreams of a life filled with the kind of love only children could bring.

  * * *

  Scott Jones stared at the calendar on the wall of his jail cell. Another day down. Four more to go. He flexed his fingers until they cracked and bit down hard on a wild surge of anticipation. No good getting ahead of himself. He had to take things easy; plan his course of action until there was nothing left to chance.

  He moved over to the small shelf affixed to the wall where he kept his meager possessions and pulled out his collection of newspaper clippings. At the thought of Neil’s death, a wave of pain flooded through him and he closed his eyes hard against the anguish. Neil had been the only one who’d cared for him in this stinking shithole. Neil had been his brother, his father, his everything. And now he was dead. As dead as the cockroach Scott had squished with his boot as it skittered across the floor of his cell, headed toward his stash of candy.

  No more cockroach.

  No more Neil.

  Anger replaced his pain and he latched onto the emotion like a drowning man who’d just been thrown a life preserver. Anger was good. Anger kept him strong. Anger kept him focused. It was what he needed.

  He flicked open the clipping that lay on the top of the pile. A color photo of a woman graced the page. Doctor Josie Munro, Child Psychologist appointed by the court to determine whether the boy who’d murdered Neil was fit to stand trial.

  Disgust flooded through him and his lip curled up in a sneer. They had to be fucking kidding. A pre-schooler would know that shooting a man the way the kid had shot Neil would kill him. A psychological assessment was fucking bullshit.

  Scott stared down at the article again. It had been written the day the psychologist had attended court to give evidence. Due to the age of the defendant, the court proceedings were closed, so Scott had no way of knowing which way her evidence fell.

  Whose camp was she in? Did she support the idea the kid was guilty? That he knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled the fucking trigger and sent a bullet straight into the back of Neil’s head? A feral smile tugged at the corners of his lips. For her sake, she’d better. Soon, very soon, he’d know the truth.

  * * *

  The judge finally called an end to the proceedings and Chase didn’t bother to hide his relief. After another day sitting around in the courtroom, he’d just about had enough. The persistent headache behind his eyes hadn’t helped matters, either. He should have known better than to get drunk when he had to spend the next day listening to the evidence of the defense expert who’d been brought in to counteract Josie’s report.

  Doctor Leonard Heather had spent more than a dozen sessions with the defendant and had deduced the child, Daniel Logan, had no idea what would happen when he pulled the trigger of the gun. Heather had completely ignored the fact Daniel was almost as familiar with firearms as Chase was, especially when it came to .22 rifles. The kid had his own license and gun. He and his father were regulars at the firing range. No one who knew them would believe Daniel had randomly picked up the gun and fired it without a clue about the consequences.

  Still, John Wall was forced to cross examine Heather on every aspect of his report. By the end of the day, it appeared to Chase that the prosecutor had made progress, but it had come at a price. Both of them were exhausted.

  “Christ, I’m glad that’s over,” John muttered, shaking his head.

  Chase knew exactly how he felt. Wall might have been an excellent prosecutor, but he’d had a tough day counteracting the questioning applied by Harton’s skillful tongue.

  With no effort at all, Chase’s mind focused on Josie, like it always had when he needed comfort and reassurance. They hadn’t been together for ten years, and yet he’d never shaken the habit. Not that it had done him any good over the last decade, but even though she’d been absent from his life, thinking of her in times of trouble had always eased his mind.

  It was no different now.

  He thought back to his conversation with Riley at The Bullet the night before and his determination to tell her the truth. Nerves stirred deep inside him. He wasn’t normally one to walk away from taking a risk. He had enough self-confidence and the right balance of bravery and healthy fear to make a good police officer, but when it came to Josie, all of his courage failed him and telling her the truth was fraught with danger.

  What if she turned her back on him, closing down the tiniest sliver of hope he’d clung to all these years? It would kill him, that’s what would happen. His heart would shrivel and die.

  But what if she didn’t scorn him? What if she came to accept his infertility and a life that might or might not include children? He’d have wasted ten years…

  Was he willing to take the risk? Was he willing not to? Was it better to wonder and live in hope forever, or discover the truth, one way or another?

  “What are you up to this afternoon? Fancy a beer?”

  Chase stared at John and realized he’d spoken. “Um…yeah… Why not?”

  “Great. I’ll see you at The Bullet. Give me time to get back to the station and unload my gear and I’ll be there. Order me a Bud and make sure its icy cold.” The prosecutor shot him a grin and turned to pack away his files and statements and notepads into a battered old briefcase.

  Memories of Chase’s evening at The Bullet the night before came back to him and he suddenly shook his head. He couldn’t risk running into Josie. What if she was with the doctor again? Or some other man?

  A discovery like that would be the end of him. He was sure of it. Better to go over to her place and get things out in the open, once and for all. The not knowing was tearing him up inside. It was time he manned up and laid everything on the table. It was the only way they could move forward together, or on different paths.

  “Ah, John, I might take a raincheck on the drink, if you don’t mind. I know it’s been a shit of a day, but think I’ll head on home. I have a few things to take care of before I finish for the day.”

  John raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but gave Chase a friendly smile. “Of course, mate. Do what you have to do. Some other time.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate everything you did here today. It couldn’t have been easy.”

  “You have that right. Harton had my balls on a platte
r and was ready to carve them into little pieces there for a while. I managed to claw back some ground this afternoon, but it was a tough gig.”

  Chase nodded solemnly. “You did well. You did great. Now, it’s up to the judge.”

  “Yep, you’ve got that right. I’m glad I’m not the one making that decision.”

  Chase nodded again, his lips compressed. “I’ll catch up with you later. Call me as soon as you hear.”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  Chase shook his hand and headed out of the courtroom. There was nothing more to be done but wait.

  * * *

  Josie’s phone rang where it sat on the kitchen counter and she dashed across the room to answer it. She’d been waiting half the afternoon for the arrival of a plumber. She could only hope this was him. She picked up the phone and glanced at the screen and her pulse missed a few beats for an entirely different reason: Chase.

  She hadn’t seen him since yesterday when she’d finished giving evidence. And that was after her decision the night before to demand the truth. A sudden surge of nerves flooded through her belly.

  The phone continued to chime and with a muttered curse, she took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Doing her best not to sound flustered, she answered the call.

  “Chase, how are you?”

  “I-I’m fine. I just got out of court. I thought you might like an update.”

  “Of course. How did it go?”

  “Yeah, another tough day, but it’s over. The judge has adjourned for three days so he can deliberate over his decision.”

  “I heard from Belinda Murphy earlier,” Josie said. “She told me a relative of the Logan boys has arrived in town. An aunt from some place this side of Bourke. The boys are going to stay with her for the next little while, at least until their father is well enough to come home.”

  “Good. That’s good. I’m glad they have family to support them.”

  “Right, like I’m chopped liver… Thanks very much,” Josie retorted, stung.

  “Josie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant…you know. You’re not…family.”

  Her anger wasn’t appeased. “It’s been a long time since I’ve known you, Chase. We’ve been apart many more years than we were together. I thought I knew you a little. Once. Now, I don’t know you at all.”

  “Josie, please. Don’t say things like that.” His tone was tinged with desperation. It gave her pause.

  “It’s the truth, Chase. As sad as that may be, it’s the truth.”

  “Please, Josie. Where are you? We need to talk.”

  The butterflies in her chest multiplied until she could barely breathe. Was she brave enough to see this through, to finally know the truth? Did she really have a choice?

  “Please, Jose. Please, give me a chance to explain.”

  The tender use of the childhood nickname he’d given her all those years ago weakened her resolve and she found herself nodding.

  “Okay,” she whispered hoarsely. She cleared her throat and repeated it. “Okay.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Chase. I’m sure. It’s well past time we did this.”

  “Are you at the office?”

  “No, I’m at home. I have an issue with a toilet. I’m waiting for the plumber.”

  “Fine. I’ll come over. I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  With no time to change out of her work clothes, Josie ran a brush quickly through her hair and secured it behind her head in a simple ponytail. Chase had said he’d be there in ten minutes. She didn’t have enough time for something more elaborate. Besides, he’d always loved her hair in the simplest of hairstyles—at least, he used to a decade ago. Now, she didn’t know what he liked.

  When Belinda had called her and told her the boys’ aunt had arrived in town, Josie had been devastated. She couldn’t believe how quickly they’d begun to matter; how quickly they’d become part of her life. She enjoyed taking care of them, of feeding them and seeing to their needs. She wanted more of it and she damned her soul to hell for wishing even for an instant that the aunt would change her mind about taking them on.

  But right now, with Chase heading over to “talk,” she was glad the boys weren’t there. It was time to clear things up between her and Chase once and for all. It was time to put the fairy tale behind her.

  The rumble of a powerful engine drew her attention and she peered out of the bathroom window. It overlooked the side yard and part of the main road. Chase sat astride a shiny, black motorcycle looking for all the world like he belonged there. Josie’s heart jumped into her throat and nerves tangled deep in her belly. Heat suddenly centered in her core.

  God, he looked hot. Like a bad boy out of a Hollywood movie.

  He wore a black leather biker jacket and jeans that clung to his long lean legs. He brought the bike to a stop outside the gate that led into her yard and pulled off his helmet. Climbing easily off the bike, he turned to face her house. Like they had been the morning he’d come across her at the pool, his eyes were hidden behind mirrored aviator sunglasses.

  Aware that he’d be on her front porch in a matter of seconds, Josie quickly splashed cool water against her heated cheeks and then patted them dry. With a last glance at her hair, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and shook her head in dismay.

  Her eyes were wild and bright, like she was in the throes of a fever; her lips were parted and her breath came fast. Try as she might, she couldn’t slow the pace of her heart and her pulse beat a rapid rhythm through her veins.

  The sound of Chase’s boots on the weathered porch sent a surge of anticipation rushing through her, along with more than a little dread. He’d come to offer her an explanation that was ten years in the making. She only hoped she’d survive the impact of his revelations with her trademark of calm and cool control.

  She grimaced at the thought. This was Chase she was talking about. The man she’d loved with all her heart. The man who, even now, could turn her into a mass of quivering nerves and excitement just anticipating his presence. She’d be lucky if she didn’t disgrace herself with a totally inappropriate emotional outburst. The probability of that was high. Way high.

  But there was nothing to be done about it now. Chase’s firm knock on the screen door sounded loud and clear throughout the house. Smoothing down her pale pink tailored blouse and fitted, knee-length cerise-colored skirt, she hurried from the bathroom. Her high heels made a clicking noise on the polished wooden floorboards that led down the hall and into the entryway. With a last quick breath, she opened the front door.

  From the tilt of his head, she guessed Chase’s gaze drifted over her, from the top of her bobbing ponytail, across her blouse and lower still. He paused noticeably at the open V neck of her fitted shirt and her heart skipped a beat. With his eyes still concealed behind the sunglasses, she had no idea of his thoughts.

  “How could you have spent a day in the office and still look so gorgeous?” he murmured.

  Josie swallowed the lump of nerves that had lodged in the back of her throat and tried to get her mouth to work. Stepping away, she sucked in another breath. “Um…thanks. I-I… You look good, too.”

  Chase shrugged and looked down at his clothes. “I’ve been stuck all day in court in a suit and tie, listening to evidence. I needed to get some air.” He shrugged. “I dropped by my place to change and then decided to kick over the Fireblade.” He looked away and Josie had the sense that he was suddenly shy. “I thought you might like to see her.”

  She smiled with genuine pleasure. “Of course! I heard you coming from half a mile away. She sure sounds like she has the goods. I bet she goes like the wind.”

  “Yep, you’ve got that right.” He paused and then looked back at Josie. “Would you like to go for a run?”

  Excitement coursed through her and she grinned a mile wide. “You bet.” She looked down at her clothes and smiled wryly. “Just give me a minut
e to change.” Before she could think through the wisdom of her decision, she turned and hurried back inside. “Come in,” she tossed over her shoulder and then headed down the hall.

  Once in her bedroom, she kicked off her heels and then unzipped her skirt. She shucked it off her hips and it fell in a pile on the floor. The blouse quickly followed.

  A moment later, she pulled a T-shirt over her head and then slipped into her jeans. They were snug, but stretchy and she was confident she’d be able to put her leg over the bike without too much difficulty.

  The power in Chase’s Fireblade reminded her of her brother Declan’s Ducati and she was filled with another surge of excitement. The knowledge that she’d be pressed up close and personal against Chase’s back while she rode pillion made her insides quiver with anticipation.

  The thought of his nearness shouldn’t have her so stirred up, particularly because they had yet to have “the talk.” She had no idea if she would like what he had to say. It was why she needed to do this now because after he’d given her his reasons for abandoning her, she might never speak to him again. The very idea was beyond depressing.

  Shaking the negative thoughts away, she resolved to focus on the positive. Right now, she had a hunk on her doorstep with a smile so sexy it curled her toes and he was waiting for her to climb on the back of his bike and go for a ride. Right here, right now, life couldn’t get any better and she was going to seize the moment for what it was. Pulling on some socks and boots, she left the room.

  Chase held the door open for her and she stepped out onto the porch. “I’ll just grab my helmet from the garage,” she said and sashayed down the stairs.

  * * *

  Chase stared after her, his mouth dry with excitement. His gaze followed the gentle sway of her hips, encased in her skintight jeans. The soft denim cupped her ass like a lover’s hand and his fingers itched to do the same.

  She’d always been hot to look at, but at eighteen, she hadn’t fulfilled the promise in her youthful body. A decade later, and it was all he could do not to drool. She’d filled out in all the right places—from her generous cleavage, clearly outlined through the soft fabric of her T-shirt, to the gentle flare of her hips that swept down to a pair of long, shapely legs.