Trent sat on the aisle side of the courtroom bench a few rows behind the prosecution table, blocking anyone else from getting near Skylar beside him. If they wanted to watch the hearing, they could find another bench.
Phoebe and Scott Lancaster were far too close to Skylar for his comfort. Even though they were wearing shackles at the defense table, he didn’t like such evil being in the same room as the woman he cared about.
“Stop glaring at them,” Skylar whispered. “You’re worrying the bailiff. He keeps watching you as if he thinks you’re going to run over there and hurt the Lancasters.”
She was right. The bailiff was watching him and looked nervous. Smart man. Trent very much wanted to break Scott’s neck. But there were too many deputies in the courtroom. It wasn’t worth being arrested for the small amount of damage he’d be able to do before being tackled. Then again. Another solid punch to Scott’s throat might finish what he’d started in the woods. That might be worth going to jail.
“Trent,” she whispered again. “Seriously. Stop.”
He sighed. “I’ll be good. But I still don’t understand why you insisted on coming here. You’ve only been out of the hospital for a day.”
“Whose fault is that?” she grumbled. “I’d have been out a week ago if you hadn’t told the doctor about that dizzy spell and the inconsequential headache that began after Abigail left.”
“You suffered a serious blow to your head. And that inconsequential headache was a debilitating migraine, on top of the dizzy spell. I won’t apologize for being concerned and telling your neurologist. Blame him for keeping you there a whole week. He’s the one who kept running tests.”
“Tests that proved the only thing wrong with me was stress. How humiliating is that?”
“It’s completely understandable. Which begs the question, again, why do you feel it’s so important to sit through this bail hearing? There’s no way the judge is going to let them out of jail. The FBI found enough evidence in the mansion to put both of them away for life. There won’t be any early releases either. Federal prisons don’t have parole.”
“I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about Phoebe’s son, Randolph. I was hoping he’d show up today so I can talk to him.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to you. He refused all of your requests via his court-appointed guardian. Besides, do you even know what he looks like?”
“Abigail showed me pictures on her phone. I just want to talk to him for a few minutes. He needs to know he’s not alone, that we’re both Martha’s grandchildren and should be there for each other. I don’t want him growing up blaming me for what happened to his family, maybe even hating me.”
“Give him some time. Once he matures, maybe he’ll be willing to talk to you.”
“He turns eighteen next month. What will happen to him then? He won’t have a guardian anymore to guide him. He’ll be all alone.”
“Even with the judge freezing the bulk of Martha’s estate while the Feds sort out legally gained money from illegally gained money, the judge made sure that Randolph has a generous allowance. He’ll have everything he needs. Still, if it’s bothering you, I’ll see what I can do to get him to agree to a meeting. But there’s no way you’ll meet with him alone. I’ll be there with you.”
She gave him a searching look. “You don’t think he’ll become a threat to me like his parents, do you?”
“Doubtful. Right now his guardian is charged with both taking care of him and making sure he doesn’t get into trouble. After his eighteenth birthday, when the guardian leaves, he knows the FBI, the police and a security team I’ll hire will keep tabs on him. If he even jaywalks, I’ll make sure his butt is thrown in jail.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not the type of guidance I had in mind. He needs love and understanding. I know what it’s like to lose your parents. He’s lost his at a very young age. Losing his mom to prison has to feel ten times worse.”
The bailiff instructed everyone to rise for the judge.
Skylar scanned the audience again as they stood.
“He’s not coming,” Trent whispered.
She sighed.
As Trent had predicted, no bail was granted. Scott and Phoebe Lancaster were led away in chains to spend the rest of their lives locked up—in jail for now. After their trials, they’d be moved to a maximum security federal prison. Finally, Skylar was truly safe.
He ushered her down the front steps outside the courthouse. Callum met them on the sidewalk and hugged Skylar.
“Congratulations,” he told her. “It’s finally officially over.”
She smiled. “I guess it is. Thanks for being here with us. It was nice of you to drive all the way to Chattanooga for a thirty-minute hearing, even though you didn’t get to sit in on it.”
“I didn’t expect to. After all, who else would hold onto Trent’s gun while he was in the courthouse?” He laughed and handed the pistol to Trent. “I know you feel naked without this. ‘Always packing’ is your motto.”
“One of many,” Skylar teased.
“Thanks, Callum. It did feel weird sitting in the same room with the Lancasters without being armed.”
“Courthouse security knows better than to let the families of victims carry weapons inside,” Callum said. “That’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Survivor,” Skylar corrected. “Not victim.”
“My bad.” Callum smiled.
“I know a great place here in the downtown area for lunch,” Trent said, as they headed toward his SUV—the new one he’d bought a few days ago since the old one had bullet holes all through it.
“You’re not the only one who knows some great restaurants around here,” she said. “I used to live here too, you know.”
He turned to answer a question Callum asked him.
“Randolph, don’t!” Skylar screamed.
Callum and Trent whirled around, bringing up their pistols lightning fast. Randolph was pointing a gun at them from across the street.
“No, don’t!” Skylar jumped forward, grabbing for Trent’s arm.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Randolph crumpled to the sidewalk.
Trent whirled around to check on Skylar. She was on her back, eyes closed, blood seeping around her on the concrete. Cold terror congealed in his chest as he dropped to his knees beside her. There was a bullet hole in her shirt.
“She’s been hit! Callum, call 911. Skylar, Skylar, hold on, sweetheart. Hold on.”