Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 68576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Turns out, they hadn’t needed us at all, because one of the employees got tired of being cold and had taken out the woman holding them hostage with a bag of frozen tortillas.
When we’d gotten back to the station I’d chosen to go ahead and stay, and head straight to court from there.
Forest was being watched by my mother and sister, while Pepper was meeting me at the courthouse.
I arrived five minutes ahead of her, and I grinned at the pencil skirt she was wearing.
“You look smokin’,” I said, reaching for her once she was close enough.
“I try,” she flipped her hair. “But also, I wanted to appear like a professional badass.” She paused. “I have to go take a headshot. I got a call today from someone.”
My brows rose, curiosity sparking in my entire being. “Yeah?”
“I have a huge possible sponsorship opportunity for a billionaire in Dallas,” she said excitedly. “Apparently, his wife was the recipient of one of my wigs, and when I wouldn’t take any more money than cost, the billionaire dude reached out through my social media page and asked for me to get a headshot done, and agree to a sponsorship deal so we can reach more people with my work.”
I raised a brow at her. “Is that what you want?”
She shrugged, then nodded. Both moves in complete congruence.
“Well, which is it, baby?” I chuckled.
“Well,” she made a cute little confused face. “I don’t know. On one hand, I’d love to make this into a full-time gig. But I’ll never be comfortable with charging a whole lot. This way, I might be able to do it full-time, but also get a little more out of it than cost. If that makes sense.”
It did.
“Making your own hours, and doing what you love, is important. Love what you do, and you’ll never work another day for the rest of your life.” I tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Which is why I want you to take my picture really quick while my hair looks good. Make sure you only get my collar bone up.”
“It won’t look good when you’re done?” I wondered.
“I’m sure Emory will make me want to pull my hair out,” she admitted.
I snapped about twenty photos so she could pick the one she wanted and handed her phone back to her.
She tucked it into her purse but paused. “Oh, I have to go take my gun out of my purse. I’m not allowed to carry it in there, right?”
I grinned at her. “Right.”
She hustled back to her car, then stashed her ‘purse gun,’ as she’d coined it, under the seat.
She beeped the locks, then caught my hand and said, “Let’s go.”
We met my lawyer inside, and I jerked my chin toward Forest’s lawyer.
She waved, and we all went into the court room.
Emory arrived almost late, and took a seat, whispering fiercely to her lawyer. Her lawyer looked stunned at the news, and was shaking her head, gesturing toward the court room at large.
I wished I was a fly on the wall near them so I could hear what it was they were talking about.
A text came, and I looked at the phone in my lap to see Hollis texting me.
Hollis:
She just came in here and demanded the lawyer ask for a recess. She forgot to get coffee and needs it.
I looked up to find Hollis, Ellodie, and Shayne behind Emory and her lawyer.
I shook my head and looked back up to the front just as the judge came in.
I stood as did most of the others—Emory did, but only after her lawyer whisper-hissed at her—and waited until the judge asked everyone to be seated.
The look the judge shot Emory was comical—at least for my side. Emory’s lawyer looked fit to be tied.
“Ms. Cline,” the judge said. “Is there some reason you’re already this close to contempt of court?”
Her lawyer’s head drooped to her chest.
“Uh, no, sir.” Emory looked worried now that she had everyone’s attention. “Sorry, sir.”
So the court was in session.
It started out with my son’s lawyer explaining the allegations against Emory.
A few witness testimonies were read from the people who were kind enough to watch out for my son at the restaurant that day.
The final testimony, though, came from a neighbor of Emory’s.
“…multiple times a night I hear her screaming at the little boy to shut up and go away. One particularly bad night, I realized that the little boy was sick, and the mom hated that she had to take care of her son. She threatened him multiple times. At one point, I called the cops, and they came, but she lied that it wasn’t her son, that he was asleep. (By that point he was asleep, because it’d been over an hour since the police were called.) There were multiple times after that point that she yelled but was much quieter about it. I’ve also complained about the mother multiple times to the apartment complex because she let the boy outside by himself. We live really close to a major road. That’s terrifying.”