Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Jesus Christ,” Beauford hisses out, “he’s got a camera on him.” But the other deputy has him turned around and is slapping cuffs on him.
“You are going to hear from my lawyer,” Winston spits. “I’m going to sue all of you.”
“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” The deputy is taking him to the back of his patrol car. “If you give up that right—”
Winston turns to him and spits on his shoes. “You are going to pay for this,” he warns the deputy, who smirks at him. “You will never work again.”
The deputy nods and places him in the back seat of his cruiser. I see Beauford look at the back seat, where Winston is throwing a fit and hitting his head on the window. “Just to be clear, in case there are discrepancies in what went down,” I speak up, and both of them look at me, “I have all of this”—I point at the scene—“recorded.”
CHAPTER 28
Harmony
I close the door to the bedroom, seeing just a bit of moonlight coming into the room. Wyatt is on his side sleeping without a care in the world, exactly the way it should be. I bend to kiss his cheek before slowly, on my tippy-toes, walking out of the room. I can hear shouting coming, but it sounds like it’s far away. I walk over to the top of the stairs, and I sit down on the step, watching out the window. I can see shadows moving back and forth. My eyes are on one shadow in particular, Brady. I would know his shadow in the dark, and even if I didn’t, I think my heart would. If he’s next to me, I can feel it down to my bones. My eyes stick to the scene unfolding outside. Half of me wants to run out there and watch, but the other half, the more important one, is making sure Wyatt stays far away from this and his father.
I look over my shoulder at his bedroom door, making sure it’s still closed and not that he got up and is sneaking, looking out. Something he used to do when we lived together. I take a deep breath, forcing away the memory of my son, looking like he was petrified as he listened to his father trash whatever glass he was holding as he went on and on about whatever was ailing him at the moment. My feet on the steps move, making my legs go up and down with all the nerves in my body. My stomach feels like I’m going to throw up while my hands shake on my knees as I wait for Brady to come in the door.
I can hear more shouting from Winston. I knew this was coming. I should have anticipated it, especially after the meeting with the sheriff.
We walked into the sheriff’s office. He sat behind his big brown wooden desk, which shone like he spent hours polishing it. The big leather chair he sat in was too big for the room, and he sat in it like he ruled the world. Pictures behind him of his perfect family, a wife who he married out of high school and who was best friends with Mrs. Cartwright. “Let’s all cut to the chase.” He didn’t even get up to greet us or introduce himself to Ryleigh, who just smirked before she leaned over the desk.
“Sheriff.” She put out her hand, and he thought for a second before he lifted his beefy hand. “I’m Ryleigh Richards. I’ll be representing Harmony Cartwright.” The minute she said my last name, I couldn’t wait to have it changed back to my maiden name. She looked at him and then at the two chairs facing his desk before taking a seat without being asked to. Something I don’t think he expected.
He leaned back in his chair, putting one hand on the armrest. His white hair on the side was combed back perfectly, the top of his head tanned from being bald. “There was no need for you to even come down here.”
“Is that so?” Ryleigh smirked at him, which made his jaw twitch. “And why is that?”
“We both know, young lady, she did it,” he states. “He said she did it.”
Ryleigh straightened her posture, clasped her hands together, and looked the sheriff directly in his eyes, and I have to admit, her game face was quite intimidating. It had me trembling a little. “Sheriff, you are well aware that I am Harmony’s attorney, so you will either address me as Attorney Richards or Mrs. Richards,” she corrected him, which, I think, was something no one had ever done. “You will give me the respect I deserve, and I won’t accept anything less. Also, I hate repeating myself. I tell my children this often and, unfortunately, adults often act like children. However, here we are. At the scene of the incident, Harmony made your deputy aware she had an attorney. I’m sure if you reviewed the incident report, as any good sheriff would, then you would’ve known that. Therefore, given the rules of civil procedure, you cannot question my client without her attorney present. So when you said there was no need for me to come down here, apparently, there was. But then again, I can understand your hostility, considering the close relationship that you have with the alleged victim’s family.”