A delicate hand comes around Ford’s shoulder, pushing him to the side. Leary appears from behind him, dressed in a pair of black yoga pants and a T-shirt. Her eyes are bleak and red tinged.
“Leary—” I start out, but she cuts me off.
Her voice is deadly calm. “Get off my porch. Get in your car and drive away. Don’t ever contact me again.”
She slowly turns away and starts walking back into her living room. Her shoulders are sagging, and from this angle, it looks like she’s aged a hundred years.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, needing to get the words out while she can still hear them. “I’m sorry for what happened. I didn’t have a choice, and you have to believe me, it killed me to do that.”
Leary stops for a moment. When she turns back to look at me, her eyes are blazing in fury. She takes two steps back up to the door and pushes Ford even farther out of the way. “You’re sorry?” she whispers with barely controlled rage.
“Yes,” I say emphatically.
“What exactly are you sorry for, Reeve?” she asks sarcastically. “For ruining a beautiful woman who did nothing to deserve the shit storm you just piled on her? Or are you sorry because you didn’t have the balls to prevent that shit storm?”
“My hands were tied,” I grit out.
“Bullshit,” she snarls as she steps out onto the front porch and stands on her tiptoes to get in my face. “You had a choice.”
“Fine. I had a choice. I chose to stay within the boundaries of the law,” I defend myself, even though it feels so very wrong to do.
I expect her to retaliate. To attack. To call me every dirty name in the book, and hell, for good measure, she might as well slap the shit out of me.
Instead, my knees nearly buckle when tears fill her eyes and her chin starts to tremble. “You chose to be a coward,” she says as teardrops fall, leaving silvery trails down her cheeks. Taking a deep breath, she blinks her eyes and rubs the back of her hand over her cheeks to dry them. “Now, get off my property and please don’t bother me again.”
“You said you wouldn’t hold my job against me,” I say forcefully, trying to keep dialogue open. “You promised.”
More tears spill, sticking in her lashes and cascading down her cheeks. “I did,” she says quietly, her words filled with pain. “And I’m apparently breaking that promise right now. But I made that promise before you gave me your heart and I gave you mine. I didn’t take into consideration how badly you could hurt me.”
“I didn’t do this to you, Leary. I did my job. I did this to your case.”
Leary gives me a sad smile, shaking her head. “Do you really believe that, Reeve? Knowing my background and what this all meant to me, did you really not think this would hurt me personally?”
I close my eyes slowly, telling myself this is a bad dream. I close my eyes because I can’t stand to see the accusation in hers, and because I know she’s right. I did this knowing she was going to get personally hurt, and I could have prevented it. I could have stopped all of this by being truthful with her from the beginning. I could have told her about those witnesses. Yes, it would have crossed an ethical line, but why didn’t I see it then the way I see it now? That Leary would have been worth risking my career. She was more important than my ethics or my law license.
I need to let her know that, but when I open my eyes to tell her what a fool I’ve been, she’s gone. Ford is still standing there, though, looking surprisingly sympathetic.
I can’t stand the look. It merely confirms what Leary just told me—it’s over between us.
I spin on my heel and lumber down her porch steps. When I reach my car door, I turn and see Ford following me. He clearly has something to say, so I just stare at him.
“Listen,” he says carefully. “I’m sorry . . . for both of you. I know you had something special.”
“Apparently not that special,” I murmur as I look back toward her house, knowing that I’m the one who failed to make the choice that would have preserved it. “Do you think I chose wrong?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think,” he says, doing nothing to inflame or assuage my guilt. “But do me a favor—Monday in court, don’t try to harass her into talking to you. You know the chances of her winning are very low now, and it’s going to be hard on her as it is. Just keep your distance, okay?”
I open my car door and step into the driver’s side. Shooting him a quick look, I say, “I won’t be there. I quit Battle Carnes this afternoon after court was over. Kratzenburg will finish up the trial.”
Sitting down in the driver’s seat, I close the door and take a quick glance at Ford. He’s staring at me thoughtfully, both of his hands tucked into his pockets. Giving me a nod of his head, he turns away and heads back toward Leary’s porch.
As soon as I back out of the driveway and put the car in drive, I pull my phone out. I might have lost Leary for good, but maybe I can still do something to help salvage her case.
I dial Rhonda Valasquez’s number again. As per usual, it goes right to voice mail, and I don’t hesitate in my message.
“Miss Valasquez, this is Reeve Holloway again. I wanted you to know that I quit working at Battle Carnes today. I no longer represent Dr. Summerland. I really need to talk to you about this case. It’s taken a bad turn, and if there’s anything you can do to help Jenna LaPietra, I need you to do it. I am begging you to call me. Please.”
Hanging up my phone, I drive back home. There’s nothing to do but wait and hope that she calls me back, and then hope that she has something worthwhile to tell me.
CHAPTER 23
LEARY
“Are we ready to begin?” Judge Henry asks affably from up on his perch.
I give him a confident smile. “The plaintiff is ready, Your Honor.”
Turning my gaze, I look over at the defense table. I knew Reeve wouldn’t be sitting there this Monday morning—Ford told me that he quit Battle Carnes. This surprised me, but past that, I didn’t have time to give any credence to the feelings that welled up within me at the news. Instead, I tried to numb myself to Reeve and everything that we had.
Gill Kratzenburg showed up this morning, and we met in the judge’s chambers. He advised Judge Henry that Mr. Holloway would not be making further appearances and that he would handle the remainder of the case. Judge Henry was surprised, and I managed to look the same myself. Regardless, there was no sense in holding up the show.
Kratzenburg stands up. “The defendant is ready.”
“Then let’s move on to closing arguments,” Judge Henry says and then turns to the bailiff. “You can bring the jury in.”
“Your Honor,” I butt in politely, “I would respectfully request that you reopen evidence and allow the plaintiff to call one rebuttal witness.”
Kratzenburg explodes. “I object, Your Honor.”
“Of course you do,” Judge Henry says drily as he looks at Gill in boredom. “Just as Miss Michaels objected to your rebuttal witnesses.” Turning his eyes to me, he pushes, “Tell me what you have, Miss Michaels.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be calling Miss Rhonda Valasquez to the stand. She was one of two surgical nurses who assisted Dr. Summerland during Jenna’s surgery. She’ll be offering rebuttal evidence to Dr. Summerland’s testimony here during the trial, as well as to some statements he made to me in his deposition, which I admitted into evidence as Plaintiff’s exhibit number twenty-four.”