The Riches of Mercy (25 page)

"Yes," Meredith answered, almost without even thinking. The woman gave her a sympathetic glance. Meredith got into the car and slammed the door.

"No," she said, but the woman was already gone.

Her first test.

She started the car. The boys buckled themselves in.

They'd fall asleep. She'd wake them up when they got out of Wilmington. Maybe she'd take them to McDonalds, and then home, where she'd try to pretend six weeks couldn't change her life. She'd switch out the rumpled sheets in the bedroom, feed the cat, and try and put everything back to normal.

# #

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Patrick met Natalie at the airport. He'd pulled rank to meet her at the gate rather than at baggage claim. With his presence came a price. The photographer next to him took pictures of a smiling, tired, triumphant city prosecutor on crutches.

"I'll take that," Patrick said to the flight attendant who'd carried her carry-on up the ramp and kept her from falling.

Not, "Can I help?" or "Let me take the bags," but "I'll take that." Natalie wondered how long Patrick had been getting his way. But when he shooed the photographer away and helped her into the handicapped golf cart, she was grateful. The cart beeped and rolled. Natalie laughed at the people scattering in front of its progress. She should have felt guilty. She'd always been annoyed by those cars and the passengers. Instead she was happy to be in Charlotte.

"Sleep on the plane?" Patrick asked.

"No." She'd been thinking of Meredith, and biting her lip, and writing a letter.

"Where's Hollingsworth?"

"Staying in Tarpley for now," Natalie said.

"Oh, Nat."

"Holly took to the kids. There was a whole cat thing. You wouldn't understand."

"Okay. You'll miss him."

The golf cart dumped them at the baggage claim and he called for his driver.

"Something happened while you were on the plane," he said.

"What?"

"They found Roland guilty." He grinned.

"On a Sunday?"

"You're back in the city now."

Her heart twisted. "That's wonderful."

"It is. Congratulations, Natalie."

"I'm going back," she said.

"What?"

She produced her letter. "This is my two month notice. I'll need that much time to get things together. Job hunt. Pack. Sell my condo."

She'd bought it two years ago after a promotion. Charlotte was so cheap she could have bought two. She'd pretended to love the space. She'd tried. But it never felt like a home.

"You're going down there without a job?"

"I'll find one. There are a thousand things I can do."

"Like what?" He swung to face her, to meet her eyes, to give her the death stare that got so many confessions--so many people to stop acting in their own self-interest and act in his.

"Nat, you'll get another case like Roland. Don't make it about that. Your career--"

"My career? I'll find another."

"This is more and you know it. You can have anything you want. A.D.A. Hell, D.A., if you showed one ounce of ambition."

"Patrick. God."

"Sorry." He ran his hand along the back of his head. "Natalie, you don't know this woman."

"Pat--"

"Listen to me. Hear me out. She's going to go to jail for a long time. A very long time. And you're going to be, what, stuck with the kids? Do you want that? Them?"

"Yes."

"She's going to use you. She's going to hit you up for money and--"

"Patrick!" she took his arms, shaking him. The crutches clattered to the floor. People glanced at them.

She took his arms more gently. "I don't care about any of that stuff."

"Nat. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Just help me." She let him go, hanging her hands at her sides. "Okay? Help me screw up my life."

"Okay. Okay. Get your apartment on the market as soon as you can. You can live with us. Maybe we can get you severance, or disability, or you can telework, just until you're settled in down there. I'll call my contacts and see if anyone's heard of Tarpley."

He rambled on, picking up her crutches for her and then taking her bags. She followed him to the car, glad he was on her side. Glad to follow his plans once again, glad he would help her even if he couldn't use her as his pawn. Maybe it had never been about that. Maybe she'd just been a good attorney.

His friend. She smiled at him as they settled into the backseat of the town car. He winked and patted her hand.

"Thanks for all this, Patrick."

"Sure, kid," he said. "How far are you from Hilton Head, anyway?"

#

Her apartment was cold and smelled of dust and neglect. The power was still on. There was a note from her neighbor about Patrick picking up her cat. She turned on the lights and sat down on the couch. There was no edible food left in the fridge, but there were six messages on her answering machine. Two from Patrick, one from the neighbor, two from the police, and one from Meredith.

She played Meredith’s message twice, shocked at how foreign Meredith's accent sounded already after three hours back in Charlotte. The boys were noisy in the background, chaotic and frightening. Her eyes welled up.

"Hey, Nat, just wanted you to hear a friendly voice when you got home. The boys say hello--"

"Hi, Natty!" they chimed.

"Anyway, welcome home." Meredith paused. Natalie counted the seconds. Then, "Take care, Natalie."

Natalie couldn't listen to it, not with the lump rising in her throat and the tears stinging in her eyes. She ordered Chinese, and then realized she didn't have any cash. She used the emergency supply in the shoebox in her closet. While eating, she went over her finances.

Not good.

She found herself surrounded by Chinese containers and paperwork, depressed and tired and in pain. Her cat was gone and she was alone with the hum of the refrigerator. She picked up the television remote.

She set it down.

She knew she'd succumb eventually to the need for money, to the need for the fantasy of other people's lives filling her home, to the path of least resistance.

She glanced at the phone. She remembered all the nights she'd waited for it to ring.

She picked up the receiver and dialed.

# #

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Two Months Later

Meredith sat in the uncomfortable, too-small chair across from her lawyer. They were in a holding office, waiting for the judge to arrive. In fifteen minutes, they would all herd into the courtroom and her life--the sliver of life she held onto between Vincent's death and today--would be gone. She'd been crying more and more.

The boys caught her last night. They'd piled into bed with her and said "What's wrong, mommy?" and "We'll be good, don't cry," which made her cry more.

"Call Natty, she'll help," Merritt said.

That had been even worse.

She put her head in her hand.

Her lawyer coughed.

Samson Okoru had worked his way through law school with the state's help, in return for a defense attorney post in a small town. On behalf of North Carolina, and not on behalf of her, he did this work. He was completely professional, but she was pretty sure he thought she was guilty.

A knock came on the glass of the open door. She glanced up.

Natalie grinned.

"Took you long enough," Meredith said and stood.

"I started driving as soon as I hung up the phone. It's a long drive."

"Do you have to go back?"

"This weekend, to put the rest of my stuff into storage and sign the final paperwork. I can't believe those turkeys are taking my condo."

"I'm sure it's a nice condo."

"I'm sure."

Samson said, "You have five minutes," and then left, heading for the water fountain.

"I'm sorry it took so long," Natalie said.

"Don't be." Meredith felt her eyes filling with tears. She hastily wiped them away. All that time lost--all those weeks--she'd be damned if she was going to lose this time, too, by crying.

"The preliminary background check is done. I can take the boys if--while--" Natalie stopped talking and swallowed.

"Good."

Natalie reached out and pulled Meredith against her.

Meredith bit her lip until it hurt. "Good."

Natalie's hand cupped her head. Meredith was amazed at how right the embrace felt--how much she remembered Natalie's body from before, when she'd spent weeks convincing herself she'd imagined it. Here was Natalie--real and holding her. Meredith reached up and cupped Natalie's face. She pulled back far enough to see Natalie and laughed.

"What?"

"I never saw you in a suit before. I guess I never figured--you look so powerful."

"You’ve got the idea."

"Nat."

"I promise, I'm just muscle. The press are out there."

"I know."

Samson tapped on the glass. "The judge is here. The bailiff is calling us."

Meredith swallowed.

Natalie took Meredith's hand from her cheek and kissed her palm. "I'm right here."

"Thanks." Meredith held Natalie's gaze, trying to express all she felt, all the thudding in her heart.

Natalie gave her a faint smile.

Samson held out his hand. Meredith took it, brushing past Natalie. The door to the courtroom opened in front of her. She dropped her lawyer's hand. Natalie's hand touched her back.

"Vincent's parents are already inside," Samson said.

Meredith took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

#

The trial was an exhausting recitation of charges and details. They'd broken for lunch before opening statements. Meredith struggled to stay awake as the judge droned on.

Natalie furiously scribbled notes.

At lunch, the lawyer tucked them into a dark van. Meredith just buried her face in Natalie's neck while Samson practiced his opening statement.

Natalie gave him tips.

"Why didn't you do this before? If you were going to do it at all?"

Natalie bit her lip.

Samson coughed and took a sip of water.

"What?" Meredith asked, lifting her head.

"We did," Natalie said.

"We talk on the phone a few times a week. She's good."

"I could have been a D.A., they told me," Natalie said.

"Nat."

"Don't worry. I won't be writing wills for old people. I'm consulting for a firm in Charlotte. We'll see. I might get out of criminal law."

Samson snorted.

Natalie touched Meredith's cheek. "My heart's not in it."

"The military wants a plea arranged. They don't want PTSD or homosexuals or war atrocities all over the news. Tomorrow we may have an offer," Samson said.

"I can't go to jail," Meredith said.

"It's the parents driving it, then?" Natalie asked.

"The whole town. Merry, you really should have considered Charlotte. Death has turned Vincent into a hero," Samson said.

"He was always a hero," Meredith said.

"Your freedom isn't going to change anyone's minds."

"What are they going to do? Them and their minds? They'll be too damn polite to shun the boys, and too damn greedy to shun my money at the market. And wait until I deliver one of their babies or patch up a bloody knee."

Samson sipped water.

Natalie grinned. "And to think she's staying because she likes these people."

"I'm not raising my boys in some strange city with strangers."

Natalie nodded.

"You've got more friends than you think, Merry," Samson said.

"I have enough."

"They've risked shunning too."

"It's hard to do the right thing," Natalie said.

"Real easy to do the wrong thing," Meredith said.

Natalie pulled her back into a hug.

#

Meredith cried when the prosecution called her a murderer.

She promised Natalie and Samson and herself she wouldn't, but she did, in the face of the lies about money, about promiscuity, about selfish greed and her cold-heartedness. She made herself look at the crime scene photo. Vincent, lying on her kitchen floor, blood soaking his shirt. She remembered the fear inside her--the picture transported her back to fear, sharp and painful. She'd believed he could stand back up and come after her. Calling 911 had been about calling for backup.

Vincent looked like an angel in the picture. At peace.

When her lawyer spoke, she only stared at her hands, feeling nauseous and ashamed at his gentleness. He made a rational, calm argument for forgiveness.

She knew didn't deserve forgiveness.

# #

Chapter Thirty

Natalie came home with her. She walked with a slight, almost imperceptible limp. The boys knew who she was when she stepped over the threshold. They hugged her. They squealed.

Natalie winced at the sound. "I've been away too long."

Meredith took her hand.

After pizza, they put the boys to bed together. Meredith handled reading stories, snuggled against Beau, while Natalie sat with Merritt and closed her eyes and listened. The boys seemed mostly asleep when Meredith and Natalie left, but Meredith made Natalie stand outside their door, listening. A minute in, they brought Merritt water. Two minutes in, Meredith shushed them.

"They must think you're a god," Natalie said.

Meredith grinned. She took Natalie's hand. They stood another minute. Meredith shushed the boys again. Natalie and Meredith giggled together. Then Natalie's hands were running up and down Meredith's arms and Meredith was holding her waist and the boys could have lit their room on fire and Meredith wouldn't have noticed.

Natalie bent her head and barely brushed her mouth against Meredith's. Meredith held herself still, simply returning the pressure and then increasing it until there was a solid, affirming kiss.

Meredith pulled away. "Hungry?"

Natalie grinned and shook her head.

"Want to watch television?"

"No."

"I think I hear the boys."

"No you don't."

Meredith tugged Natalie closer, slipping an arm around her waist. "I don't know what to do with you."

"You've got to put up with me. We're a family now," Natalie said. She smoothed Meredith's hair back from her face and kissed the corner of her mouth.