Sutton stood up. “Nothing. I just wanted to clear up any hard feelings between us. I better be going. It’s getting late. Thanks for dinner. Night, Cash, Rachel.”
Before they could say anything, she rushed out the door and onto the front porch.
“Sutton! Wait!”
Sutton turned at Rachel’s voice, keeping her face impassive as Rachel came out farther onto the porch, closing the door behind her.
“Let me help, Sutton. Please don’t run away again. It doesn’t solve anything. Believe me, I know.”
Sutton shook her head vehemently. “You can’t help me.”
“Maybe I can. You remember I can heal. You saw me do it when I was younger. It’s become stronger as I grew older.”
“You can’t help.” She waved her hand at Rachel’s abdomen. “Besides, I saw what it did to you after you helped someone, and you’re carrying a baby. I won’t let you endanger yourself or Cash’s child. Let it go. It wasn’t important, anyway.” Sutton turned, about to step off the porch.
“I think it is. I think it’s the most important thing in the world to you.”
Sutton didn’t turn back to face Rachel, too afraid she would see the truth on her face.
“You’ve tried to take your life. Whatever is wrong isn’t just going to disappear.”
“You can’t fix me. No one can.” She slowly turned back to face the only person left in this world she felt any emotion for.
“No, but I can ease the pain. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Yes … or …”
“Or?”
“To say good-bye.”
Chapter 8
“This is bullshit.” Tate turned to his lawyer who was sitting next to him. “I didn’t say one word to Lyle when I passed him at the store.”
“I don’t understand it, either.” Diamond’s low voice made him aware his own loud one was drawing everyone’s attention in the packed courtroom. “Knox tried to talk Lyle out of filing the complaint, but he wouldn’t listen. Even Rachel asked Jo to reason with him, but she was just as unsuccessful. She says, over the last few months, he’s been drinking more and more.”
“That isn’t all he’s doing more of.” Tate cast Lyle a glance. The town drunk was sitting somewhat soberly in the front-row seats.
“All rise.” The bailiff’s words had Tate getting to his feet as Judge Creech entered the courtroom from the side door. He was shocked at the judge’s appearance. Tate had thought the judge wasn’t aging well the last time he had been in court, but this time, he knew it for a fact. The man looked pale and haggard, as if he didn’t know what a good night’s sleep was anymore.
The bailiff read the complaint against him, his eyes focused on the papers in his hands.
“Did Mr. Porter try to make any attempt to approach you, Mr. Turner? Keep in mind that I can ask for the video to be played.”
“Yes, sir. That’s what I understand.”
Tate almost snorted out loud. The man’s brain was too fried on that synethetic weed to comphrehend exactly what had happened. The large amounts of synthetic weed and alcohol he was mixing were a deadly combination. The lawyer whispering in Lyle’s ear must be clueing him in to the penalties for perjury.
“If Mr. Porter did, in fact, threaten you, then it should make no difference if it was recorded by store surveillance.”
Tate raised a brow, not at the stern tone the judge was using, but the direction the questioning was going. He had expected to be given a couple of days in jail despite not being guilty of confronting Lyle.
“Would you like to drop the complaint before I ask the bailiff to play the tape?”
Lyle’s face turned a bright red as he glared at him. “Yeah.”
“Case dismissed.” Judge Creech raised his gavel and slammed it down on the sound block.
Diamond rose, turning to him and smiling. “That worked out well. I might not even charge you this time.”
Tate opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she changed her mind.
“Of course, that wouldn’t be good business.”
“I’ve been giving you enough business lately. You should let this one be a freebie.”
“I would, but there is a new pair of heels I’m dying to buy.” She picked up her briefcase. “Maybe next time.”
Tate watched as his lawyer left the courtroom. He was sure she would be able to buy several pairs of those expensive shoes she liked to wear on the fees she charged him.
Lyle gave him a smug-ass grin as he asked the bailiff to escort him out of the courtroom. Tate’s hands clenched at his side. If he wasn’t sure he would be forking over another fee to Diamond to buy matching purses, he would kick Lyle’s ass.
“Tate.”
He turned to see Judge Creech motioning to him from a doorway at the side of his bench. Surprised, he followed the judge through the door and down a small hallway to his office.