WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 10
Caroline knocked on her door early with a steaming mug of coffee laced with caramel creamer. “Ready for your big day?”
“No.” The word slipped out in a groan. She’d seen every hour on the clock as she tossed and turned through a long and restless night. That full-caff coffee with Chandler had been a bad idea on many levels, not the least of which was the way he’d filled her thoughts.
“This is what you’ve wanted. A chance to tell your story. I wish I could be there.”
“I’m glad you can’t.” As Caroline’s face fell, Jaime raced to explain. “It’ll be easier to tell the story without people I love there.” Except if her mom and dad showed, that excuse was exposed.
“Then know I’ll be praying. You might want to too.”
“Why? God doesn’t care.”
“Take this as a chance to test your theory. Maybe He does but you haven’t asked for anything in so long you haven’t let Him show you.”
“I’d have to be pretty desperate.”
“Aren’t you?”
Jaime froze at her friend’s piercing gaze, and then Caroline handed the coffee over. “I made this for you.” She turned to leave but then stopped. “Let them see your hurt. No one can walk away from the reality of your wound. I love you, Jaime.”
“I know.” The words came out in a whisper as Jaime clutched the mug as tightly as she wanted to control her emotions.
An hour later she was sitting behind the prosecutor’s table, waiting for the judge to call the hearing to order. She kept her eyes forward, ignoring Dane sitting at the defense table with a high-priced attorney out of DC. Guess he hadn’t decided to represent himself after all. She pulled her gaze back to Mitch. His three-piece suit was a bit over the top even if the tie was GQ perfect.
She glanced back over her shoulder, and her heart stalled when her parents walked in—with Chandler Bolton right behind them.
What on earth was he doing here?
She hadn’t given him enough information last night to find her, had she?
She wasn’t prepared for him to hear the sordid details.
Judge Anna Thatcher whacked her gavel against the bench. “The probable cause hearing in State v. Nichols is now in session.” She glanced at the court reporter. “Everything ready?”
The young man nodded at the judge, who pulled a file in front of her. “We are here for the matter of the probable cause hearing.” She rattled off the docket number. “The State may proceed.”
Mitch stood and unbuttoned his jacket. “Thank you, Your Honor. The state calls Jaime Nichols.”
Sweat slicked her palms as Jaime stood and approached the witness stand. She couldn’t ignore the weight of her uncle’s gaze. She had known when she approached the Commonwealth’s Attorney that the only option was to testify. To do it at this stage meant the prosecutor felt unsure they could survive the probable cause stage without her testimony. But while she understood, it left her feeling vulnerable. Anything she said gave her uncle and his defense team ammunition and insight if this survived to trial.
She was grateful that her parents were there supporting her, but the weight of their questions only added to the heaviness that threatened to overwhelm her.
What if she blew it?
She felt the vise lock her lungs as spots dotted the edges of her vision. Quickly she slipped her wrist to her nose and inhaled the lavender oil she’d dabbed there that morning; she felt calm begin to slide into place.
Mitch’s look communicated his concern, and she gave him a small nod as steel stiffened her spine. She had to do this. The costs were too high to allow Dane to continue to appear as someone cloaked in light and goodness when such evil filled his soul.
She walked to the witness box.
The judge looked down over the rim of her reading glasses. “Do you swear the testimony you are about to give is the truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“I do.”
“Then you may be seated.” The judged turned her attention to Mitch. “You may ask your questions. However, keep in mind this is only the probable cause hearing. I will not grant wide latitude with your questions, as the scope of this hearing is whether these charges will proceed to grand jury.”
“Understood, Your Honor.” Mitch stood as Jaime settled into the large chair behind the witness stand. The microphone poised on the edge of the stand hadn’t intimidated her all the times she’d been an attorney, but from this side it loomed large.
She shifted against the fake leather and then reminded herself to freeze like a rock. This was about looking resolute and not letting them see her fear. She tipped her chin and met Mitch’s gaze.
“Ms. Nichols, there is a fundamental question I need to ask. Why wait this long to approach the Commonwealth’s Attorney with your allegations?”
Even though she’d known he’d start with this question, it hit her in the chest. Give the answer you rehearsed in front of the bathroom mirror. “I needed to know I could be taken seriously.”
“Why should you be taken more seriously now?”
“I went to law school in part to learn if there was anything I could do about the violations and abuse I received at Dane Nichols’s hands.” She lifted her chin in hopes of stemming the tears that wanted release.
“So you’ve spent the last ten years preparing?”
“Not preparing as much as learning. I knew this would be painful and disruptive.” The words felt so rigid and tight. What had Caroline told her? Let them see the hurt she’d buried all these years . . . Could she relinquish her control like that?
“Is this a trap to ruin your uncle’s career?”
She blinked. Where had that question come from? It wasn’t one they had discussed. “No. I didn’t know until I started digging that there was no statute of limitations on sexual assault crimes. I was afraid I’d waited too long, but at eighteen I wasn’t strong enough to fight for myself.”
“But now you are?”
“Yes. And I can’t live with myself if I don’t do everything I can to make sure he isn’t hurting other children.”
From there Mitch went back on script with questions about when the abuse had occurred and why nothing was done at the time of the crimes.
“I didn’t know how to tell my mother, and my father was deployed outside the country. After that tour, if my father and his brother were deployed, it was at the same time, and I never went to Dane’s apartment or home without my parents. Once I was an adult, I made sure our paths did not cross.” She felt the tremor in her hands and wished the court allowed a comfort animal like Aslan to rest at her feet. If she felt this upset and unsettled, how much more threatening this situation would be for a child like Tiffany.
“I have no further questions.” Mitch sat, and as much as Jaime wanted to dash for the prosecution’s table, she forced herself to wait.
The judge turned to the defense table. “Roger?”
“I have a few questions.” As the man stood and buttoned his suit coat, Jaime braced for the barrage that was sure to come. “Ms. Nichols, you tell a nice tale, but why should the court believe any of this happened? Aren’t you out to humiliate your uncle?”
“No. I want to make sure he can’t hurt anyone else.”
“Can you prove any of this alleged abuse happened? Did you go to a hospital?”
“No.”
“Was any sort of rape assessment conducted?”
“No. I was eight and not talking.”
“Was child protective services called?”
“No.” She felt anger pressing up but forced herself to remain outwardly calm. She knew exactly what he was attempting since she’d used the same technique with witnesses herself. Badger, and eventually they would lose their cool and authority.
“How about any law enforcement organization?”
“No.”
“You want the judge to believe your testimony alone—because there is no physical evidence?”
“Yes.” She gritted her teeth to keep from exploding. Mitch caught her gaze and barely shook his head. She had to control her emotions. But then she caught Chandler’s eyes, and the pain she saw there speared her. He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t hear this in such a casual way.
“Is there any corroborating evidence?”
“That is up to the Commonwealth’s Attorney.” She wasn’t sure if Mitch planned to admit her journal but didn’t want to tip off the defense if she could avoid it.
The defense attorney paused and looked at her, then pulled his reading glasses off his nose and twirled them in his hand. “You don’t know?”
“No.”
“You’re an attorney. A public defender. And you want us to believe you don’t know?”
“Yes. I’m not prosecuting this matter.”
He smirked at her, and she wanted to knock the expression off his overweight face.
“You want this court to allow the criminal charges to proceed without any evidence to support your allegations?”
“Yes. I want my uncle to be held accountable for the great evil he did to me.”
“I see. It’s all about revenge.”
She bit her tongue so hard she tasted copper. She would not give the man the satisfaction of talking without a question. She was too disciplined for that.
The man glanced at her uncle, but she did not follow his gaze. Instead, she wished she could glance at Chandler again, longing for his steadying gaze.
Her edges were fraying. What was it Caroline had asked her to do? Pray? She still didn’t believe God would listen, but she needed help to hold it together. God, if You care, I need to know You’re real. Right now. The words landed with a thud in her mind.
The defense counsel asked additional questions, forcing her to walk through part of the horror, and she wished her parents hadn’t come. She’d wanted to spare them as much of the reality as she could, but as she gave her answers, they heard every word. So did Chandler. This would be the last time she saw him . . . unless all that interested him was a physical relationship.
The man finally looked down at his list of questions and decided he was done. “No more questions.”
“You may step down.”
Such relief coursed through Jaime at the judge’s words, she could barely stand. However, she forced her legs to cooperate and wobbled to the prosecution’s table, grateful she’d worn sensible flats. She caught her father’s grim look and her mother’s shattered one.
They needed to know she didn’t blame them anymore. They hadn’t known back then, and now that they understood, the bro-kenness was etched into the lines on their faces.
She sank into the chair, and Mitch slid her a note.
Now it’s up to the judge.
Either the judge would allow the case to proceed to grand jury, or she wouldn’t.
The woman stared at her notes in silence for a minute, then pulled her glasses off and looked at Mitch. “I find that sufficient testimony was presented to reach the standard of probable cause. This case can proceed to grand jury.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
Jaime exhaled, then froze as Mitch tapped her arm.
“The grand jury hearing will take place on Friday. I’ll need you there at nine.”
“I’ll be there.” She didn’t look at her uncle. She didn’t want to see his reaction, not when he’d been so smug that his expensive lawyer would make it all go away.
The stakes were high for him. Depending on how the case proceeded, it could affect his security clearance and his promotion, might even lead to a dishonorable discharge. Would he let Lady Justice take her course?
And what would he do to her?
What could be worse than what he’d done twenty years ago? But he was a man with power . . . which would only expand if he survived the senate subcommittee hearings.