Murder in the Courthouse (37 page)

“Next to the top, seventh floor. Chase, doesn't it seem like a year ago that I parked the car? But I know it's only been thirty-six hours. Crazy, right?”

“You did it again, Hailey.”

Hailey looked at Billings as he hit the button for the seventh floor. “I did what?”

“You slipped up and called me ‘Chase.' ” He looked at her with a big smile on his face.

“And plus, she kept throwing those evil glares at us in court.
Why didn't that register?
” Finch was so deep in his own self-torture, he didn't even notice what Hailey and Billings were saying.

“I did, didn't I?” Hailey answered Billings. She could actually
feel
the smile on her face, and she couldn't seem to get rid of it. Plus, she didn't seem to want to.

The elevator door opened at the fifth floor. “OK, Finch. You got her from here? I'll get my car and meet you down at the exit. On the street. Then follow me. I got a great place that serves fresh collard greens and cornbread. Plus shrimp and grits. You'll love it.” Billings stepped off the elevator and looked back.

“Yeah, man. I think I can get her to seven. I still don't understand why . . .” The door slid closed as Finch continued his soliloquy and Billings disappeared from view.

“What floor are you, Finch?”

“Six. I'll catch it on the way down so I can get you to your car,” Finch answered, obviously still wallowing in self-inflicted misery.

The elevator pinged and the door opened on seven. “Finch, stay in the elevator. I can make it. See, there's my car right over there. If you get off, you'll lose the elevator and this is
the slowest elevator
I've ever seen. Trust me, I've been taking it up to the top every morning since the trial started. It's awful.”

“OK. You got your footing? You steady?” He held the elevator door for her as she stepped off, pushing against it to make it stay open past its computer-determined time.

“I'm good!” Hailey called over her shoulder as she made her way to her car. She'd parked it in the darkened, shady part of the garage and away from the bright sun. She opened the door. She didn't even need the key; the crime techs had left it open when they got the trash and the tank valve early that morning.

Hailey could hear the elevator buzzing insanely at the door Finch was holding open. “See? I'm safe! I made it to the car all by myself! I'm getting in now! Go! I'll see you outside the exit! Hurry! I'm starved! I haven't eaten in thirty-six hours! You don't want me to
faint, do you?” From the car door, she threw him a smile as he finally let the elevator door close in front of him.

Hailey got in gingerly, slammed the car door, checked the rearview mirror, cranked up the car, and checked the rearview again before reversing out. Her shoulder was actually hurting and every time she moved a pain went through it. But she didn't want Finch and Billings to worry any more than they already had. The look on Finch's face when they rolled Hailey out of the courthouse was something she'd never forget. He was in tears.

And when Billings came bursting through the swinging doors at the ER, he was white as a ghost. He'd looked awful and knelt down beside her bed. She was pretty sure he was saying a silent prayer before he stood up fairly quickly and composed himself.

Hailey put it in drive and headed toward the ramp. Chase Billings. That was the issue. She lived in New York; he lived in Savannah. No way could he drop his career here. Her mind wandered back to the night they'd walked along the Savannah River. She slowed down as the car entered the dark area beside heavy concrete columns supporting the eighth, and top, floor above them in order to go back down. Wincing with pain, Hailey had to struggle to turn the wheel and maneuver the car onto the sixth level.

Only a slight movement alerted her. Before she could turn around, she saw him. In the rearview mirror. A man with ladies' panty hose over his face.

“Bitch, you're gonna die, if it's the last thing I do.” Hailey screamed out loud just as a sharp cord cut into her neck, pulling her hard back against the seat's headrest. Her foot hit the brake then let go, and the car sped straight ahead, crunching into the concrete wall in front of it.

Clawing at the cord, Hailey tried to scream again. He pulled it tighter. In the back of her mind, she knew she only had a minute or two before the cord would complete its evil dance and she'd run out of air.

She forced herself to stop clawing at her own neck, and her hands searched on their own for anything . . . anything she could use. The
cord hurt so much; her hands flew back to it, trying to loosen it for even one gasp of air.

No good. The gun . . . Finch's gun, that he leant her. It was under the seat. She tried in vain to reach down to it.

He kept talking, spitting out the words through the tan panty hose. “You did it. It's your fault. And now . . . you're gonna die. I knew you were trouble the first time I laid eyes on you.”

Suddenly she recognized the voice. It matched the dark hair and deep brown eyes. It was Todd Adams, his eyes wild behind the nylon, his mouth a grotesque gash in his face.

“And yeah . . . before you go to hell, Hailey Dean . . . I want you to know . . . I killed her. I killed her. I hated her. I hated her face and her breath in the morning and her swollen feet and her endless dribbling about
the baby this and the baby that
. I hated her with all my heart. I'd rather rot on death row than be married to her. I wrapped a cord around her fat white neck and I strangled her. Just like I'm gonna strangle you . . . dead. You gonna beg, Hailey?
She
begged, Hailey; she begged me not to kill her . . . to save the baby. But that's just what I didn't want. A baby out of her belly. She made me sick. And now . . . it's your turn. You can die knowing that the only people who know what happened to that cow and the baby are all dead . . . including you. This is what you get for messing with my mother. Without you . . . they don't have a case. Kiss it good-bye, Hailey Dean . . . I'll see you in hell.”

Todd Adams yanked the cord tight with his fists. Hailey fought with all her might. It was no use but she kept fighting. For one brief moment, she saw Will in front of the car. He was somehow standing between the car and the concrete wall.

He looked straight into her eyes, and it was the moment Hailey had been waiting for all this time . . . since Will was taken away from her. Since he was murdered. They were together again now, finally.

A feeling of complete peace like nothing she'd ever known came over her, and she knew, ironically, the most joy she'd felt since Will died. Their years apart melted away.

In her last moment, Hailey reached out to Will . . . to hold him again . . . to hold him now and forever. Hailey's head slumped over onto her left shoulder; her arms dropped down to her sides.

When her arms dropped, her hand felt the side pocket on the door, stuffed with a map, a water bottle . . . and a pen. Her lucky pen. The Tiffany pen a victim's family once gave her after a guilty verdict during her first years as a prosecutor. It had a black silk cord around it, and she'd worn it around her neck during nearly every jury trial she had ever tried.

There was Will at her car door now. He seemed to be telling her something, gesticulating. She got it. And in one mighty heave, in a surge of power summoning all the strength she had left, she turned and stabbed.

The pen's sharp end made contact, digging through flesh and veins. A shriek came from behind her, the cord loosened, and she jerked it away from her, breathing as deeply as she could. Forgetting the pain in her shoulder and the blood now seeping from the delicate skin around her neck, she turned to look in the back seat.

The car was silent. Deathly silent. Todd Adams was sprawled on the back seat, Hailey's silver pen still protruding from his neck. His mouth hung open against the stocking. The blood didn't make a sound as it pumped, high-pressured, from the carotid artery just under his chin, forming a river of red going down his neck and chest and pooling under him on the car seat and the floorboard below.

With the strength she had left, Hailey went over the seat and clamped both hands hard over the wound, pushing the pen to the side. Blood poured between her fingers and out from the sides of her palms. She pushed harder.

The car doors flew open on both sides of the car, and Hailey was vaguely aware of loud voices.

“Get 911!
Help me! He's dying!
” Hailey screamed. She could hear the words tearing out of her own throat, but they sounded like somebody else, shrill and wild. Inches from his face, she saw the blood was no longer spurting through her fingers. Just a trickle now came from the sides of her hands and then . . . it stopped.

Hailey felt hands under her armpits, pulling her out of the car. Someone strong pulled her completely out and lifted her under her shoulders and knees, laying her gently down on the concrete floor of the parking garage.

“Hailey, he's dead. You're OK. You're alive, Hailey. Todd Adams is dead. It's over, Hailey. It's all over now.”

Her eyes focused for just a moment, and in that moment she saw the face of Chase Billings, just inches above her own. And suddenly, he was holding her in a tight embrace, a hug as if it would never end.

He held her tight, there on the oil-stained concrete. She opened her eyes just once more, to look back over his shoulder for Will.

He was gone.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

T
he sun shone into the front seat of the car as the green from the trees mixed with their limbs overhead appeared for just a moment, then whizzed past in a green blur. The wind through the window felt good and the air smelled heavy with magnolias.

“So, this isn't the way to the airport. Where are we going?”

“You'll see.”

The sheriff's cruiser slowed and went off the road down a hard red dirt path and then through an opening between the trees she hadn't seen from the road. It was cool and dark off the road with the sun dappling through here and there. She spotted a butterfly ahead.

The car stopped. “We're here.”

“Where's here?”

He opened her door and she took his outstretched hand, stepping out of the car and into the tall grass on either side of the dirt road. “You'll like it, you'll see.” He smiled.

He led her by the hand through the tall, green grass, across the clearing and through the trees just beyond. She could hear the water now, playing against the rocks, ambling by. It seemed happy.

“It's Moon River, Hailey. I wanted you to see it.”

Hailey looked out onto the water, dotted with sunlight. The leaves in the trees and the Spanish moss swayed in the breeze. It was so beautiful, it didn't seem real . . . like a magic spell had taken her away from everything dangerous and evil in her life . . . like a different world far away from her old world.

“Stay, Hailey. You can stop fighting now. You can stop. You've done enough. Have a life here. With me, Hailey. With me. With us. You don't have to go back to that world anymore, Hailey. It can be over.”

The world stood still. Her New York apartment, her practice, her patients, the courtrooms, the crime, it all seemed a lifetime away. All there was . . . was this . . . this moment . . . this man . . . the water tripping by . . . the sun on her face.

“I'll think about it. I promise.”

Sadness crossed his face before he could hide it. “Then, I'll be in Manhattan in a few weeks to try and convince you. Can I do that?”

“I hope you do.” She smiled at him, close to his lips, but her eyes filled with tears. She didn't know why.

“I've dreaded the moment, Hailey, the moment you wave from the plane. But Hailey, I'll dream of you. You won't be waving goodbye, you'll be waving hello.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

W
hen her fiancé was murdered just before their wedding day,
Nancy Grace
abandoned plans to become a Shakespearean literature professor to enter the world of crime and justice; she attended Mercer Law School, graduating
Law Review
. She then obtained her LLM in Criminal and Constitutional Law at NYU. Grace spent a decade in inner-city Atlanta prosecuting violent crimes, compiling a perfect record of more than 100 felony prosecution victories at trial with no losses. Grace joined Court TV and, for eleven years, covered major trials after cohosting
Cochran & Grace
with famed defense attorney Johnnie Cochran. One of television's most respected legal analysts, Grace starred in the top-rated HLN show
Nancy Grace
and serves as a legal expert for ABC's
Nightline, 20/20
, and
Good Morning America
. Grace lives in both New York City and Atlanta with her husband and beloved twins, a boy and a girl (and a dog and a cat, both pound pets).