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It takes several minutes, but we finally make it into the courthouse and through security. Mr. Worthington escorts us into the appropriate courtroom, and we find seats near the front.
Let the games begin.
CHAPTERFIFTY-TWO
The courtroom is packed. It’s difficult to tell how many people are here to support Hastings Ainsworth or if they are here to gawk. The lawyers have been going through opening arguments—that I tuned out.
The morning has dragged on—the prosecution has a large amount of evidence against Kennedy’s father. Keeping an eye on Kennedy from the row behind her, she appears stoic. Other than dabbing her eyes on occasion, she is as still as a statue.
The judge finally calls a recess for lunch. As soon as he exits, we gather around Kennedy and Rodney, getting them out of there before the vultures swarm. Mr. Johnson was able to get us to a conference room and had food brought in. This eliminates us having to leave the building and face the media circus again.
As soon as we are away from prying eyes, Kennedy’s shoulders sag in defeat. Kassidy gets Kennedy into a chair as Ashton gets both girls coffee. Gareth is crouched down in front of Kennedy, speaking to her in hushed tones. Kennedy doesn’t speak, just shakes her head back and forth, declining whatever Gareth is trying to talk her into. Giving up, he approaches me, standing along the far wall. Ashton and Rodney are standing next to me. Gareth heaves out a breath, concern lacing his words.
“She is refusing to eat.”
Ashton scoffs. “Dude, can you blame her? Let it go for now. If we can get her to eat later, she will be fine.”
Turning to Rodney, I check on his state of mind.
“How are you doing?”
He shrugs me off, looking down at the floor.
“I am not happy if that is what you are asking. This is bringing everything to the surface again. Some of the shit that Hastings Ainsworth seems to have gotten away with over the years is adding to my anger.” Rodney takes a deep breath, lowering his voice. “Kennedy needs more attention. She is losing her mother all over again. What we have learned about the way her father treated her, this has to be that much harder for her.”
“Come on, let’s grab something to eat. It’s going to be a long afternoon.” Gareth urges.
CHAPTERFIFTY-THREE
The spite I have for my father increases with each testimony and every piece of evidence. It is pretty clear that he killed my mother, even if it was an accident. Today is the fifth day of presentation for the prosecution and hopefully, the last day. Not sure how Mr. Johnson is going to prove any innocence on my father’s part. If it wouldn’t look so bad, I would already be on the way back to Texas.
We continue the same process that we have all week—meet in the lobby, then security gets us to the courthouse as we do our best to ignore the press. Once everyone is seated and the judge calls order, the prosecutor drops a bomb on us.
“I would like to call Calista Robinson to the stand, Your Honor.”
Each of us gasps in shock. I grab both Gareth’s and Kassidy’s hands, squeezing them harder than what is probably polite. What is she doing here? Wait… Robinson? My head is a chaotic mess. The bailiff gets Calista sworn in, and the District Attorney starts questioning her.
“Ms. Robinson, can you please state your relationship to the defendant?”
Calista shoots a glance in my direction briefly before responding, a nervous edge in her words.
“Uhm, my, John Robinson, Mr. Ainsworth’s former attorney, is my uncle.”
“Have you ever had contact with Mr. Ainsworth?”
“Yes, during the summer months, I would come up and stay with my uncle. I was romantically involved with Mr. Ainsworth during those times.”
Eh, ick! Gasps ring out around the room, and people mutter to themselves. My head is spinning with just that statement alone. The judge bangs the gavel, getting those in the courtroom to settle down. After a few moments, the DA continues to question. I am numb, and the rest of the room fades into the background.
Is this what her problem was?
So many other questions fill my head, and it takes everything in me to bite my tongue so I don’t disturb the proceedings. Mr. Johnson yelling a very loud “Objection!” brings my focus back to what is going on around me.
The judge looks at Mr. Johnson, his voice is very condescending, “What is your objection, counselor?”
“Your Honor, what Kennedy Worthington and her husband, Gareth Worthington, get up to in their romantic life has nothing to do with this case.”
Say what now?
