For once, Isaak doesn’t disagree.
Brad’s face goes red. Smithers’s face goes redder. “That is outrageous slander, Mr. Lee.”
“I’m afraid I was sworn in, counselor. I’m supposed to tell the truth as I see it.”
Smithers starts spluttering incoherently. “Then—then—how do you explain the fire?”
“Easily.” His eyes move to me. “Ms. Winters was a young mother. She found herself in a difficult situation. She made a bad judgment call. The courts saw fit to let her keep her son under supervision—mysupervision—and I say she’s never made another mistake since.”
The judge steps in. “Are you saying, Mr. Lee, that your professional assessment as caseworker is that the child Eli Winters should be left in the custody of his mother, Ms. Mia Winters?”
“I’m saying that I would find it cruel to take a child away from the only parent he’s ever known.” His eyes fix coldly on Brad. “Especially for the sake of a personal vendetta.”
“How do you know that’s what this is?” the judge asks.
“Because Mr. Baldwin came to me last summer to request Eli’s records.”
The audience murmurs. I grip the table to keep myself steady.
Last summer. Right after his wedding.
He knew the whole time, didn’t he?
“Is that true?” the judge presses. “I’ll remind you, Mr. Lee, that you’re under oath.”
“I am aware. And yes, it is,” he confirms. “And although I didn’t release the records to him at the time, as there was no proof he was who he claimed to be, it was pretty clear he suspected Eli to be his.” Howard’s gaze sweeps to Brad again, full of contempt. “If he was truly afraid for the child’s safety, he would have brought this suit then.”
Smithers looks one step away from the grave. “We have no more questions for this witness,” he croaks.
“Oh, but we do, Your Honor,” Isaak says, looking every bit the wolf who ate the canary.
He proceeds to conduct a fifteen-minute cross, reiterating every point Howard just made. Within a couple of questions, he manages to rebuild my character in the judge’s eyes. I admit, my faith in Isaak has wavered a couple of times, but now, my doubts have been swept cleanly away.
The man is a cold-blooded killer.
Finally, my lawyer addresses the judge. “Your Honor, we request a dismissal based on this witness’s testimony.”
This is it.Relief washes over me, brighter than I’d ever felt it before.We’re going to win.
“Objection!” Smithers calls out, livid.
“On what grounds?” Isaak scoffs. “He was your last witness.”
“We petition the court for permission to call a rebuttal witness.”
Smithers’s eyes crinkle then. It’s a wicked smile, filled with malice, one that sets me on edge immediately.
Shit. They’ve got something.
Then I feel it. A ripple of air as someone stands behind me. Onmyside of the courtroom.
“The plaintiff calls Eugenia Collins to the stand.”
45
MIA
This can’t be happening.
