When they united, they were a force beyond this world. Kind of like two magnets that somehow figured out how to mesh together when it’s a physical impossibility.
Donna leaned in. “Do you think they’ll grab Tess and run?”
“I wouldn’t rule anything out.” For sure, I wasn’t getting in their way. I fought the very real urge to cross myself again. “How mad are they?”
“Neither has said a word,” Donna whispered.
Oh, Lord. I needed a sedative. Next to Nana stood my mom and dad. The grandpas stood in the second row, behind their wives and out of the line of fire. Yeah, they weren’t dumb. Then too many family members to name took residence in the remaining rows.
The doors opened and Nick walked inside, two case files in his broad hand. He stopped short. “Oh, Jesus,” he whispered.
I nodded.
He looked down at me, his tawny eyes sharp. “United?”
I grimaced. “Apparently.”
Then to Nick’s credit, he threw his shoulders back and kept moving to his table. I had to give him that. He’d graduated from Silverville in the same class as Donna, gone on to college on a football scholarship, and then had become a lawyer while in the service. Now he was home and making a name for himself, no doubt so he could run for office someday. If my grandmothers didn’t curse or kill him.
Donna leaned toward me. “He has combat experience, right?”
“I think so,” I said, ignoring the low pull in my abdomen from his courage.
The doors opened and Clark rushed inside, quickly making it up the aisle to his table just as the bailiff entered and told everybody to rise for the judge. We were all standing already.
Judge Williams walked inside, and relief cranked through my anxiety. Okay. That was one good thing. She took in the courtroom and then sat, reaching for her glasses. “Everyone sit. Please. Full house today, Mr. Basanelli?”
Nick nodded. “Apparently so, Judge.”
Everyone sat, the sound loud enough to remind me of fans at a football game.
The judge read the first file. “Elk County vs. Aiden Devlin.”
Deja Vu. Seriously. I watched as the side door opened, and the bailiff drew Aiden inside toward Clark. After his night in jail, Aiden looked surprisingly refreshed. He still wore the borrowed dark t-shirt and sweats, and the handcuffs looked just right on his wrists.
He reached Clark and stood beside him.
Donna cut me a curious look. I shrugged. It was Clark’s job to defend people, but I thought Aiden would hire his own attorney. For now, at this first appearance, I guess it didn’t matter.
The judge looked at Aiden. “You’re charged with suspicion of first-degree murder. Do you understand the charges against you?”
“Yes, your honor,” Aiden said, his very slight brogue proving he’d lived in Ireland until moving to Silverville to live with his grandparents when he’d been a wild teen. They had both passed on, and Aiden had left town at eighteen, already on the wrong side of the law.
“How do you plead?” The judge asked.
The entire courtroom seemed to still.
“Not-guilty, your honor,” Aiden said calmly.
Nonna yelped and moved back as Nana rushed past her, toward Aiden.
The bailiff launched into motion, but Aiden held up both hands, stopping him. It was Jay, and he looked back and forth, clearly at a loss what to do with my minute grandmother.
Aiden turned toward her. “Mrs. O’Shea?”
She stood behind the short railing in the empty front bench and leaned up toward his face. Her cushy body vibrated in her flowery dress. “Did you kill that man?” she asked, Ireland heavy in her voice and her body ramrod straight.
“No, ma’am,” Aiden said, his voice gentle.
