42nd & Lex (30 page)

He snatches the covers off me. The cold rush
of air has me scrambling. “Shit! That’s playing dirty.” I shoot out of bed like
lightening and put on my glasses to read the clock next to the bed. “Lucan,
it’s only seven. Court’s not until eleven. I have time. Besides, I'm taking the
car.”

“Oh, sorry.” He looks sheepish. “I just
assumed you had to be there the same time as work.”

“Nah, that’s why I like Court days, get to
sleep in. But since I'm up, let’s talk about that coffee.”

Lucan heads for the kitchen and I follow, my
socks with the rubber grippy things making little scuffling noises on the floor.
I hate the socks but they are a necessity on the cold, slippery marble floors. He
pours my cup as I look over the paper. This is so
Town and County
suburban, sitting in the kitchen with my man, reading the paper over coffee. All
we need is a dog and 2.5 kiddos to round it out. Well it should probably be me
in the kitchen pouring the coffee and Lucan at the table with the paper, but
who’s counting, right? Lucan is laughing to himself as he walks over with my
coffee.

“Inner monologue humor, sorry,” I defend as
he hands me my cup.

“I'm not going to court with you today,” he
says matter-of-factly.

“What? Why? I mean, not that I’m upset by
that, just surprised,” I fumble. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Well, you’re a big girl and it is a public
place and people have to go through metal detectors to get in there,” he replies,
not looking sincere.

“Right, but it’s not like Serge needs to
smuggle in a metal object to hurt me. He’s permanently packing heat, ya know,” I
say, tapping a nail on my incisor. I am trying to call Lucan’s bluff. This makes
no sense, especially since he’s kept me holed up in this apartment all weekend,
barely letting me go to the bathroom alone. Very annoying since it is the only
place I can be truly alone with him around.

“It wasn’t
that
bad and no, I'm not
bluffing,” he chides. He is right; we did spend much of Sunday in bed.

“So who are you sending in your place?” I
ask, ignoring his attempt to distract me with thoughts of yesterday afternoon.

“Zaid.” He tries to looks innocent and
fails. 

“Bluff called,” I shout, pounding the table.
“I’ll see your bullshit and raise you fifty.”

“Fifty what?” He is trying to distract me
again. “Kisses? Hugs? Minutes in the tub?”

“Arg!” I huff. “Can he at least not
look
like a contract killer when he gets there? He kinda sticks out as, well,
different. And he can’t come up to us unless it’s an emergency. Sarah doesn’t
know anything and I don’t want her thinking I have a hot foreign stalker on top
of a hot boyfriend.” There were going to be more supernatural beings in that
courtroom today than any one person had a right to experience. Of course, only
Mr. Hicks and I would know that, but it is still enough to make me nervous.

“You think Zaid’s hot?” Lucan asks, trying
to look incredulous. “Maybe I should go instead; I don’t want you wooed by his
charms.”

“Ugh!” I huff again. “I give up. You come,
he comes. I don’t care. I’m getting in the shower.”

Sarah and I walk up to the courtroom at the
same time. She’s dressed just as I asked her to be: in a demure dress that says
more Macy’s than Versace, and a knee-length wool coat instead of her fur. Max
joins us a few seconds later looking very dapper in his new suit. I give him a
little nudge when he starts looking around nervously. I know he’s searching for
anything vampire that might be lurking nearby. We find a little corner at the
end of the hall and give her a heads up about today’s hearing. I stand with my
back to the wall to keep an eye out for Zaid and Lucan. I see nothing but
figure that doesn’t mean I’m alone. Both of them are skilled enough to evade my
detection, if they want to. 

“So you’re pretty clear on what we are going
to do today?” I ask, scanning the throngs of people milling about in the halls.

“Yeah. You okay, Abri? You look nervous,” Sarah
asks.

“Oh! No. I'm just looking for opposing
counsel,” I half lie. I am keeping an eye out for Hicks and Mark, but mostly
because they are my link to Serge, or at least that’s the theory. “Max, I
looked over your summaries. Good work. Basically, what we need to do is get the
judge to order Mark to stay out of the apartment and to pay you a monthly
stipend while the case is pending because he can well afford it. Is there
anything else you want today?”

“Well,” Sarah begins. “Can we ask that he
not call me? He called me last week and he sounded so strange. He started crying
that he wasn’t a drunk or a cheat. I told him I didn’t care what his excuse was
because that’s all it was, an excuse.”

“Sure...” My voice trails off as Mark, and
what can only be Mr. Hicks, head into the courtroom. I feel a little pang of
sympathy for Mark. He really is telling her the truth. Only the truth is much
worse than a few too many bourbon and Cokes or a girl on the side. “They’re
here so let’s go in. Just remember, relax and tell the truth. You have the
better position here. You will have the judge eating out of your hand.”

Max mumbles something that sounds like something
about Mark wanting to eat the judge’s hand but when I look back at him, he is
just smiling. Sarah is too nervous to catch our exchange as I elbow him in the
ribs. She pulls her coat tight around her shoulders and follows us into the
courtroom.

The judge calls our case first and we
proceed to the counsel tables at the front of the room. I unpack my file and
scan the gallery for familiar faces. Zaid is in the back row sporting dark
glasses and an expensive suit, looking like a mob boss. Real incognito Zaid. I
don’t see Serge, hopefully that means he is still laid up from his injuries.               

The judge calls us to order and tells Mr.
Hicks to call his first witness. To my surprise, he calls Mark to the stand. Mark
gets up and walks to the witness stand in that gliding way I have come to
associate only with vampires. His is neatly pressed and I can only faintly
smell the rotten stench he sported at our last meeting, or maybe I just think I
smell it. I resist the urge to turn around to see what Zaid is doing.

“Please state your name for the record,” Mr.
Hicks booms. He pulls out a silk hankie and mops his forehead while he waits
for Mark’s answer.

“Mark Aaron Ainsworth,” he replies without a
hint of the depravity he displayed at Lucan’s apartment. He definitely seems
more vampire than before, or maybe it’s because I have been living with a
vampire for the last few weeks and I’m more attuned. Or maybe he has been
completely turned since our last meeting and he
is
more vampire than
before. I quickly stomp on that thought process. That is Zaid’s department at
the moment, not mine.

Mr. Hicks expertly takes Mark through the
whys and what-fors of him being allowed to stay in the apartment. He is a
skilled enough lawyer, even if he is dirty and knee deep in the supernatural.
Soon enough it’s my turn to question Mark.

“Mr. Ainsworth,” I begin, shuffling a few
papers in front of me for effect. “My name is Abri Cole and I represent your wife
in this matter. We’ve never met before today, have we?” Maybe I am feeling a
little bold with Zaid in the courtroom, but I can’t help myself.

I hear a shuffle in the back of the room that
I hope is not Serge rising to rip my throat out as Zaid drives a stake through
his heart. The judge looks nonplussed and the bailiff is still half asleep at
his post, so it’s probably nothing. I glance over at Mr. Hicks who seems
oblivious to the story underlying my question.

Mark’s eyes flash red for the briefest of instances.
In fact, if you didn’t know such a feat was possible, you would have missed it.
I expect him to come unglued, maybe lunge for my jugular, but he does nothing
more than shift back in his chair.

“No ma’am,” he finally answers. “We have
not. But I understand you and Sarah are childhood friends.”

“Yes, we are, but I don’t believe that has
anything to do with why we are here today. Your Honor, I would object to that
last part as nonresponsive.”

The judge looks over his glasses at me in
annoyance. “Sustained Counselor. Let’s keep this moving, shall we.”

“Yes sir,” I reply with a smile. He’s
already made up his mind. I will be quick in the hopes that it is in my favor. “Mr.
Ainsworth, where are you living now?”

“A hotel. The Essex House.” I keep my face
as neutral as possible. I don’t want to risk raising his suspicions by seeming
to eager.

“And who’s paying for it?” I ask, not
missing a beat.

“I am.”

“And who’s paying for the apartment Sarah is
living in?”

“No one. It’s paid for. I'm not sure she knew
that, but I paid cash for it when we moved here.” Mark glances at Sarah and I see
a tear forming in the corner of his eye. Sarah shifts nervously next to me. My
heart breaks for him, even though he’s technically the enemy here—on more than
one level—he obviously does love Sarah. 

“Do you know what you wife does for a
living?” I ask trying to convey as much sympathy as I can get away with by my
voice. I can’t help but think that if Lucan and I can make it work, so could
Mark and Sarah. 

“She works in a gallery. I know she doesn’t
make much money. Not enough to pay the bills on the apartment or the taxes and cooperative
dues and certainly not enough to take care of herself as I could. I make ten
times what she does.” Now I could object to all of that as nonresponsive, but
Mark is helping me make my case so much that I just let it go. Hicks looks like
he might explode. In it just for the money or not, he obviously doesn’t like to
lose.

“So you would agree with me that it’s best
that she say in the apartment and that you should be paying all those things
you mentioned until this case is resolved?”

Mr. Hicks bolts from his chair to give a
rather exasperated plea. “Objection! Your Honor…” His voice trails off when he
realizes there isn’t really an objection for your client telling the truth
about how he feels and opening the door for your opposing counsel to defeat your
motion.

“Answer the question Mr. Ainsworth,” the
judge intones.

“Yes. Yes, I would. I’m sorry Sarah, I
really am. You should use my account at First National for whatever you need. You
still have the debit card for it, right. The checkbook is in my desk upstairs.”

“Then it’s settled,” the judge interrupts
Mark before he can award Sarah anything more. “Mr. Ainsworth you may step down.
Ms. Cole, I suspect you have an order for me to sign to that effect?”

“Yes sir.” I motion for Max to hand it to
me. “May I approach the bench?”

The Judge nods and I hand a copy to Hicks as
I walk up to the bench. I pass Mark on his way back to Hick’s side and he flinches
a bit before lowering his eyes. As I hand the judge his copy, I turn around to
look at Zaid. He is now sitting in the first row, one hand on the railing that
separates the gallery from the counsel tables, pretending to look at his phone.
He looks up and I give him a small smile that I hope conveys that all is good. 

The judge signs my order and hands it back
over the bench. “Mrs. Ainsworth will have exclusive use of the apartment and
may withdraw any funds necessary for her living expenses from the account at
First National Bank during the pendency of this case. Mr. Ainsworth will see
that the taxes and cooperative dues remain current and that the balance of the
account is sufficient at all times for her living expenses. I expect the
parties to exchange reports on the various assets in this case and a proposed
distribution of all property within the next thirty days.”

“Yes sir,” Hicks and I reply at the same
time.

“You’re dismissed then. The court will take
a thirty minute recess.” The judge bangs his gavel once and stands up. Everyone
rises at the bailiff’s instruction and waits for the judge to head for his
chambers. Once he’s gone, Hicks and Mark begin whispering at their table. I start
packing up my files ready to clear out before Mark and Hicks are finished. 

“Abri, thank you,” Sarah says, wiping her
eyes.

“You’re welcome. It was easy. Mark really
helped with his answers. That’s why I didn’t even have to call you as a witness.”
Immediately I feel bad for gloating. Mark’s hearing is probably acute enough to
overhear us.

“Still, thank you. Do you think it would be
okay for me to talk to Mark for a minute? I mean, here in the court room?” she
asks quietly. I notice Mark stilling a few feet away. He’s definitely heard us.

I glance over at Zaid before I answer. He
nods, still pretending to look at his phone. “Sure. Just make sure you don’t
say anything that might make Hicks want to tell the judge to change his mind.”

Sarah steps between the tables to get Mark’s
attention. Zaid’s hand goes up on the bar again but his eyes never leave his
phone. I move to the far side of the table, so as to be out of the line of
fire, and thumb through a few papers to look busy. Max does the same. I can
tell he’s torn between wanting to leave and wanting to see the showdown. I
write him a note on my legal pad that Zaid is with us and everything is okay. Luckily,
the courtroom has emptied out at the announcement of the court’s recess. We are
the only ones still here; even the bailiff is gone.

“Sarah!” Mark cries. “God, Sarah, I am so
sorry. Please, please let’s talk this over. I need to tell you something. Something
very—” he stops, his attention drawn to the tall, dark, and now very not-so-incognito
Zaid standing just behind the railing. Zaid flashes a fangy smile at Mark before
sitting back down to play with his phone. Sarah follows Mark’s gaze towards
Zaid but she doesn’t seem to notice the dental display, she just seems
perturbed that he’s stopped talking mid-sentence.