I hear the door open, and the clicking of heels along the ground, and the hope in me built up as I fought with myself to not turn around. It wasn’t her. It was never her. There was no point in turning back.
“No further questions. Thank you, Mr. Morris.”
As he sat down, the prosecutor stood. “We have no questions for this witness, Your Honor. But we would like to call Officer Anthony Scooter to the stand.”
It’s like a who’s who of everyone hates Liam.
I had no doubt that this would be entertaining.
He sat tall and proud as if he were expecting the city to give him a fucking medal. I wanted chop off his head and stick it on a motherfucking flag pole.
“Officer Scooter, you were one of the arresting officers on scene, correct?”
“Yes, I was. I was also the point man on the case.”
Keep talking, asshole, you’re burying yourself six feet deep and you don’t even know it.
“Why did you suspect Mr. Callahan?”
“Mr. Callahan did his best to avoid talking to us. Then I found a connection between his past girlfriends and it became increasingly clear that Mr. Callahan was hiding something. There was blood belonging to Mrs. Callahan on his boots, along with three guns, in his bedroom alone.”
What, they’d only found three? Declan must have locked down everything else.
“Surely you questioned him about your findings, what did he say?”
“He said nothin’. His hotshot lawyer came in and he didn’t say a word to anyone. He looked dazed.”
“Dazed?”
“Yeah, like he was high or drunk—”
“Objection! Speculation.” DiMarco stood.
“No further questions,” the prosecutor replied, saving us all the time.
“Officer Scooter, is it true that this isn’t the first accusation you’ve directed towards my client and his family?” DiMarco asked.
“I don’t understand the question,” he replied.
Really this was the man everyone trusted to tell the whole truth?
“Do you have a vendetta against the Callahans, Officer Scooter?” DiMarco snapped causing the jurors to shift in their seats.
“No. I just believe the rich shouldn’t get away with murder. They aren’t untouchable, no matter how badly they want to be,” he snarled, glaring into my eyes.
“So it’s the rich you have a problem with.”
“I ain’t have a problem with anyone. You do a crime, you have to pay the price. Simple.”
“And you’ve just been waiting to make Mr. Callahan pay. You chose routes close their homes to patrol, you are always one of the first people at the scene when it comes to their family, are you not?”
He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
“In police terms, you’re still a rookie, correct?”
“I have almost two years under my belt.”
“And in those two years, your department has been suspected of bribery, and the crime rate has risen, correct?”
“Yes.” He crossed his arms, not wanting to back down.
“You will do anything to clean up the streets and you believe that all stems from the Callahans?”
“They have this city under their control, and because of that, people look the other way.”
“You, a police officer, would look the other way? Your people on the force would look the other way?”
No answer.
DiMarco turned to the jury. “These men are supposed to protect us. But he says they look away? From what? How did you, Officer Scooter, manage to accuse and get a prosecution of Mr. Callahan, when so many others, wiser than you, have found no evidence that my client ever did anything wrong?”
“A lot of men have tried. We’ve lost too many good men, many of them are jaded and just want to get their pay and go home to their families in peace.”
If he was smart, he would have done the same thing.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you heard it,” he said to the jury. “The police department is tired of doing its job. Which means they were too tired to find Mrs. Callahan.”
“Objection!”
But he didn't stop. “They were jaded, sick and tired of losing too many men so they pointed to easiest exit—”
“Objection!—”
“They wanted to go back to the donuts and coffee. Who cares if an innocent man rots in prison? They’re tired!”
“Your Honor!”
“Mr. DiMarco!” The judge banged on the gavel. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please strike the previous statements from the record. Mr. DiMarco, you are walking on very thin ice.”
“My apologies, Your Honor, I’m just a little bit tired,” he said, and if I could’ve, I would have laughed.
The court stilled.
“Well then, would you like an hour and a half recess for lunch now?” the judge asked the jury, and they all nodded, which meant I was going back to the tombs underneath the court.
“I want to go on the stand,” I whispered to DiMarco as the bailiff and another guard came up behind me, handcuffs at the ready.
He looked at me like I really was mad.
“Mr. Callahan—”
“Only the guilty and the weak sit back. I’m neither of those things. I was telling you I am going on the stand, I wasn’t asking your permission.” He worked for me, not the other way around.
“It’s your trial,” he muttered, shaking his head at me.
Nodding, I glanced back at the door, and once again people came and people went, but the one person I needed was still nowhere to be found. I wanted to see Ethan again but after Olivia left, she never came back in.
Turning, they led me out of the courtroom. The holding cells under the courthouse felt like a tomb; dark, damp, and probably infested with mold. There was one toilet, a bench drilled into stonewall in the corner, and not much else. Luckily, no one else was there.
“Someone will have your lunch brought down,” the bailiff said as he locked me inside.
I took a seat on the bench, as there was nothing else to do.
She’s not coming. I didn’t want to believe it. It hurt to believe it. Part of me wanted her to be hurt, to be captured like Declan had said, at least then she would have a good reason. But this…five months and not a word, how could she abandon us? If she didn’t care for me, then at least I thought she would’ve come back for Ethan.
But then again, she never wanted kids.
Maybe this was her way out. She had money and properties hidden all over the world, and she could hide out for the rest of her life without worry.
“Think any harder and you might pop a vein,” Coraline smiled, as she stood outside my cell with a bag of fries and what smelled like a burger.
“How did you get down here?” I asked, checking for the guard.
“Cancer. If it didn’t suck so much it would be great. You can get people to do almost anything. Now eat.” She stuffed the bag and the drink through the bars.
“Thanks, Coraline.” I wasn’t hungry, but I doubted that she would let me off.
She glanced behind her. “I really have to go before he comes back. But whatever you’re thinking, stop.”
“Coraline—”
“Doubting is a sign that you’re at the finish line. You’ve been fighting for months and you’re at the end. Stop thinking about it, we will push through this and come out at the other end whole. We always do.” She smiled once more before doing her best to sneak out. She, like the rest of my family, was crazy, but you had to love them.
FOUR
“Don't fight a battle if you don't gain anything by winning.”
—Erwin Rommel
LIAM
“Liam Alec Callahan,” I said into the microphone.
“Mr. Callahan, I’m going to get straight to the point,” DiMarco said to me. “Did you kill your wife?”
“No. I did not kill my wife.” I don’t know how many times I had said that bloody sentence, but I was fucking sick of it.
/>
DiMarco turned jury and then back to me. “That’s not very convincing, Mr. Callahan. So can you please explain to us what your wife means to you and why you wouldn’t kill her?”
“She…she drives me insane.” I paused for a moment, trying not to smirk at my next thought. I forced a watered down smile instead. “She’s the only woman I want scream at and make love to at the same time. She can make me smile with a single glance or glare. She sings in the shower and it’s God-awful. And when she comes out, she pretends as if it didn’t even happen. She kicks me in her sleep because she doesn’t understand where her side of the bed ends and where mine begins. She is bossy, brilliant, and beautiful. The reason why I couldn’t kill her is because I’m hopelessly in love with her. I couldn’t imagine not having those moments with her. Actually, that’s a lie, I can. Being locked away from her and my son is more horrendous as I could have ever imagined.”
“No further questions, Your Honor,” DiMarco said, as he nodded to me and allowed the asshole in the alligator shoes to step up.
I had spent the this whole time doing my best to keep a straight face, but watching him size me up made me want to stomp his face in. I bet those pretentious shoes of his could cause a good amount damage too.
“Mr. Callahan, you love your wife even though this was an arranged marriage?”
How the fuck did he know that?
“Excuse me?” My jaw clenched tightly at his question. I heard a few mutters from the peanut gallery, and the fucker grinned.
“Your marriage to Melody, it was arranged, correct? A way to pull the family millions together,” he pressed.
“Billions, and no. Mel and I met because of our fathers, but she hated me in the beginning. She wouldn’t have married me if she did not want to.”
“Really? And why was that?”
The fucker. He was trying to trap me.
“In the beginning, she was misguided in her thinking as to who I was.”
“And what was her opinion of you, Mr. Callahan?” The fucker smirked and again I had the urge to make him identifiable only through dental records.
“She thought I was a spoiled party boy who spent way too much time with the fairer sex.” I’m sure they got my insinuation, but saying it reminded me of a time that felt like decades ago, instead of the few years that actually had been. One of those mistakes was haunting me now and even aiding in this sham of a case.
Fucking Natasha.
“Did she change her mind? How did you persuade her to?” Again I tried to ignore his insinuation. But I’m sure a few molars cracked with how hard my jaw was clenched at the gall this idiot seemed to have.
“She didn’t need to be persuaded. I pursued her, showed her who I was behind the lies and rumors. She wouldn’t have married me if she didn’t see something in me that could provide her with what she needed.”
“And at the same time you would get what you needed.” Again, that fucking intonation.
“I’m sorry?” I asked as if I was clueless as to what he trying to say.
“Her money, Mr. Callahan. You gained control over it all after your wedding, did you not?” As he asked that question I locked eyes with him. I’m sure he saw his future. There were two ways this could go. He could try his hardest to get me put away for life, and in order to do so, he needed to pull out all these underhanded tactics, and then he’d gain the fame and glory of being the one who put the infamous Liam Callahan away. But then he’d die. There was no question about that. It was really that simple. But the alternative didn’t seem to be any better. If he eased up, did a half-ass job, and I didn’t go to prison for the rest of my life, he may live. It was his choice. He would get crucified by the press, probably lose his job or get demoted. But he would live, maybe.
“Objection!” DiMarco yelled standing up, effectively ending our staring contest and stopping the sadistic smile I was sure had started to grace my face.
“Let me rephrase: Did you marry Melody Giovanni to make your family richer? After all, with the Giovanni’s controlling interest in stocks of major corporations, your net worth has skyrocketed.”
I guess he chose his path.
Sighing, I looked towards the jury. Their faces were expectant and eager, as they prepared to latch onto my every word. The press were all intently gazing at me, waiting for me to respond but I wasn’t sure what to say. I looked towards my family, they all sat in the second to last row. Olivia had returned, and was sitting next to Coraline who once more had Ethan in her arms. Olivia didn’t look pleased, but Coraline didn’t seem to care as she handed her phone to Ethan. Lifting him, she hugged him to her chest as Ethan tried to hand the phone to someone sitting right behind them, in the last row. He was babbling up a storm, and was the only noise that could be heard in the courtroom.
Coraline nodded at me, her eyes wide, urging me to speak, but I just kept watching. By now the woman Ethan was “talking” to was visible to me. She had short blonde hair, and a smile that radiated as she looked at Ethan.
I knew that smile.
She glanced at me and she smiled again. It was sadder, but she smiled and I swallowed. Pulling off her sunglasses, she handed them to the woman next to her, Anna from Interpol. Then she pulled off the wig and the bobby pins that’d been holding it in place as she met my stare head on.
Deep brown eyes.
Black wavy hair.
Devious smile.
Mel.
She looked me dead in the eyes and I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or dead, but I was afraid that she would disappear if I blinked. I could hear ringing in my ears as my palms began to sweat.
“Mr. Callahan!” The prosecutor snapped at me. “Are you pleading the fifth now?”
I spared him a single glance before returning my stare to her, she was still there.
Thank God.
She opened her lips and mouthed, “Cut him down.”
Anna got up slowly and approached DiMarco. Her steps sounded like stomping in the quiet courtroom. She started whispering to one of his assistant who all but beat DiMarco on the back to get him to listen. No one else paid attention to them, they were too busy staring at me. Even my own family was confused, Declan pinched the bridge of his nose, and shook his head at me. Neal kept mouthing something, but I didn’t even bother to try and understand what he was saying. My mother, my poor mother, was on the verge of tears.
“Mr. Callahan, I will repeat the question—”
“Save your bloody questions,” I snapped causing his eyes to widen. “You are a snake. Despicable. And not because you try oh-so-hard to make people believe that you are worth more than the hot air you spew out, but because you are an idiot of the highest order.”
“Mr. Callahan!” the judge screamed at me, but I held up a finger at her.
“Ma’am, you should let me finish, I’m just getting to the good part,” I said as looked at the man in front of me. “You took a case from the Chicago Police Department like a fiend. You didn't need evidence or probable cause. All you wanted was for the world to know your name by connecting it to mine. Well too bad, because I still don’t know it and I don’t care to. You want to make a name for yourself, don’t do it riding on my coattails, because when I throw you off, you will be damaged beyond repair. And before you ask, no, that isn’t a threat, it’s a promise.”
“Mr. Callahan! One more outburst like that and I will hold you in contempt of court,” the judge yelled.
“There’s that Callahan anger we’ve all be waiting for,” he snickered even though I could see the pulse at his neck quicken.
He licked his lips, took a step back, and turned to judge. She looked as if someone had just slapped the hell out of her.
“I think I’ve gotten my point across, Your Honor.”
“Great,” DiMarco smiled, standing up. “Then, Your Honor, the defense is calling for an immediate release of Mr. Callahan and a drop of all the charges.”
“Is there something in your people’s water? Because you all must
be crazy! On what grounds?” the idiot asked.
“On the grounds that I’m still alive,” Mel said as she rose up from her seat.
She was dressed in an all-white suit and red shoes. She looked like an avenging angel. Anna and two men followed her action and stood beside her with their badges hanging from their necks. Everyone’s heads whipped around when they heard the commotion.
“Oh God!”
“Mrs. Callahan!”
“Mrs. Callahan!”
“Mel!” Coraline gasped, as she stood up. Ethan, who was in her arms, now had her phone in his mouth. Mel leaned forward to kiss his head for what felt like several minutes before she pulled away.
“Order. Order in my courtroom! I want both the defense and the state in my chambers now!” the judge yelled and sputtered, drawing my attention away from her.
“Mr. Callahan, as it appears that the premise of this case is obviously compromised and no longer needs to be presided over, it will be dropped, pending investigation. You and your family are not allowed to leave the state until we meet for another hearing. Do you understand me? Bailiffs, please escort the jury and anyone who is not family out of the courtroom.”
I turned my attention to the back of the room. They were all trying to talk to her. All of them were screaming her name or shouting out questions. But she ignored them. She just held on to Ethan, and wrapped her arms around our son who seemed completely at ease. It was as if she were just another person holding him. No one significant.
I hadn’t even realized that I was walking until I could smell her. She smelled the same, but different at the same time. Her scent had a different effect on me than it used to. She smelled of relief, yet at the same time, the possibility of drowning in the torrential rains that she’d brought with her lingered.
Please do not let this be a dream.
I opened my mouth to speak, but someone else beat me to it.
“Where the hell have you been?” my mother yelled, as she wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes.
She looked up, and once again green met brown. But I couldn’t go any closer. I just couldn’t. I felt as though I was being torn; part of me wanted to slap her, and the other part just wanted to hold her, to hold her and my son forever.