The courtroom hummed with low whispers as the jury filed out in a ripple of dark suits and wary eyes.
Tripp sat rigid at the defense table, his pen motionless above his legal pad.He’d defused what he could in cross, but the echo of those words still thundered in his chest.
The murder weapon was registered to Evelyn Reddick.He’d known that since he took over the case, but it wasn’t until he sat here in the courtroom, surrounded by silence, scrutiny, and the weight of what was at stake, that the truth hit him like a punch to the gut.
He’d convinced himself she’d given her son the gun to protect him, to keep him safe.But what if that wasn’t it at all?What if she hadn’t handed it over… but had been hiding it?What if she never meant for anyone to find it?
But that didn’t make sense.
The police were going to accuse Derrick, because he was the boyfriend, the text messages, and the fight they’d had.Why would she put her son at risk?
Beside him, Derrick leaned forward, his voice a low hiss.“What the hell was that?They’re going after my mother now?”His eyes were wide, panicked.“She didn’t do this, Tripp.She couldn’t have.”
Tripp kept his expression steady, his voice low.“Listen to me.All that matters right now is the jury.They just heard there’s another possible suspect.That helps us.It doesn’t convict her.It createsdoubt.And that’s what we need.”
“But why her?”Derrick’s hands shook on the table.“Why even drag her into this?The gun was mine.She gave me the gun when I moved out.That’s why it was in my closet.”
Tripp’s head snapped toward him.“She gave it to you?”
Derrick swallowed hard.“Yeah.Said it was for protection.I never even loaded it, I swear.I didn’t think she—” He stopped, shaking his head.“She’s not a killer.”
“Does she have a key to your apartment?”
Derrick’s face went white, and he coughed.“Yes.”
Tripp’s jaw tightened.He’d heard that tone before, the blind insistence of a son unwilling to see what his mother might be capable of.His gut churned, memories clawing their way up.
Nicole.That sundress.His mother’s lies.
Before he could respond, movement in the gallery caught his eye.Evelyn herself was rising, sweeping past the curious stares like a queen moving through her court.She paused at the bar, waiting, every inch of her composed, immaculate.
“Son, I need a word with your lawyer.You’re going to beat this.I just know it,” she said with a smile that felt cold to Tripp.
The young man got up and walked out of the courtroom.
“Mr.Masterson,” she said.
Tripp ground his teeth.The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with a woman who mirrored every cold instinct he’d grown up with.But refusing her here, now, would only create more whispers.He rose, buttoned his jacket, and followed her out into the marble hallway.
The air was cooler out there, quieter, but still heavy with tension.Evelyn turned to him, her posture flawless, her perfume a cloying mix of roses and steel.
“You allowed them to drag my name through the mud,” she said, her voice low but seething.
Tripp held her gaze, his own voice clipped.“I didn’t allow anything.The evidence speaks for itself.Your son is on trial.I’m defending him.Your name is on the register for the gun.Your son is my only concern.”
Her eyes flashed.“My son is innocent.”
“Then this evidence shouldn’t concern you.It shows that there could be more than one suspect.Anyone who knew about that gun in Derrick’s closet is now a suspect.”
A pause.Just long enough for the lie to glitter between them.
Evelyn stepped closer, lowering her voice.“You’re clever, Mr.Masterson.Clever enough to know how dangerous this line of questioning is.The prosecution is trying to use this to destroy my son.He will do everything in his power to protect me, and that means even admitting to this murder to save me.Don’t let him.”
Tripp studied her, the mask she wore so carefully.He thought of the jury’s faces when they heard her name tied to the weapon.Some had leaned forward, hungry.Others had gone pale.Evelyn was right about one thing: her presence in the case had changed the tide.
And then, like a match struck in the dark, the thought came.
If Evelyn Reddick truly believed she had nothing to hide…then put her on the stand.
