33
Ben is deep in a deposition transcript when his cell phone rings making him jump and knock over his coffee cup. Cursing he taps the screen and barks an annoyed hello in its general direction.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Lena asks, and he can hear the amusement in her voice.
“No, just a bit tired and swamped. Sorry.”
“Don’t sweat it kid.”
He leans back in his chair pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the headache forming behind his eyes. Maybe Alex is right, and he needs to get his eyes tested. He shakes his head and tries to focus on Lena’s words. “I’ve heard from the prosecutor.”
“Yeah? And?”
“He offered a deal, they turned it down. They’re pleading Not Guilty.”
“Jesus, what the fuck?” Ben sits up and rubs his temple. “What’s he offering?”
“Given their ages, position in the community, and that this has an emotional component …”
“Emotional fucking component? They kidnapped our kids. They hit our daughter with a hairbrush, hard enough to leave fucking bruises.” He’s on his feet, pacing the length of the stained-glass window, turning his back on Fiona, leaning against the door, arms folded. “Don’t tell me he’s going to smack her hand and tell her to sit in the fucking corner for an hour?”
“You done?’ Lena asks.
“No,” Ben snaps, then sighs. “Yes. Sorry.”
“Yeah well, I’m pretty pissed myself, so I can imagine how you feel.”
“Somehow, I doubt that,” Ben mutters. “What’s on the table?”
“If they plead guilty, six months home detention, court ordered counselling, and permanent restraining order.”
“You have to be fucking kidding me. Lena, that’s …”
“Ridiculous, I know. I know but I’m just the messenger Ben. And immaterial since they didn’t take it. God knows why, their lawyer must be tearing his hair out. She’s obviously up to something, any ideas what it might be?”
“Who knows with Janice? She’s a whack job. I wouldn’t put it past her to think she could win in court and let’s face it, if the prosecutor isn’t prepared to play hard, she just might.” He sighs again.
“Well, the prosecutor is usually a hard ass and I think the offer was really just to test them. I voiced our opposition, not that they were expecting me to do anything else. And now we just wait for a date to be set.”
“Any idea when that might be?”
“Likely to be in the next week or so, definitely before Christmas.”
Ben sighs in relief; he wants this over.
“If it’s any consolation he wanted to include mandatory family counselling with Alex and I laughed hard enough for him to withdraw it. Didn’t even give me a chance to tell him to shove it.”
“Damn right. I don’t want her anywhere near my family, Lena.”
“I know, and I don’t blame you. Look, I’ll call you when I hear something okay. Try not to get too stressed over it.”
“Ha!” Ben huffs at the phone. “Easy for you to say - you’re not the one who has to tell Alex.”
“Yeah well, I don’t envy you that kid,” Lena says with a small chuckle. Ben hangs up and closes his eyes. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised and really all things considered the prosecutor is probably going as hard as he can.
“I take it that wasn’t exactly news you wanted to hear,” Fiona says from the doorway. Ben relays the conversation and she groans in sympathy before asking what he thinks will happen. He repeats what he said to Lena, rubbing at his temple again. His head is thumping now.
“I’m going to cancel your three fifteen, then I’ll make some tea and bring you something for that headache. What time are you expecting everyone home?”
“About four thirty I guess, unless they go to the park.” Ben admits tea and a painkiller sound really good.
“Good, you’ve got time to figure out what you’re going to tell him.” She turns away then stops, turns back. “And when are you going to do something about getting your eyes tested?”
Ben flaps his hand at her without bothering to answer. Now he has both of them on his case, great. He tries to get his mind back on the deposition transcript and doesn’t look up when Fiona puts a mug of tea and two Advil on the desk ten minutes later. When he does reach for the mug, he sees a sticky note attached to it. Grins when he reads it.
“Ten o'clock, Friday. Anderson and Smith Optometrists.”
✽ ✽ ✽
“You’re okay with this?” Ben asks, confused. Alex shrugs.
“What do you want me to say? Of course I’m not okay with it, but it’s not like I thought they were going to just start playing nice now. We just have to do whatever it takes to make sure they can’t ever come near the girls again.”
“Or you,” Ben adds.
“Whatever,” Alex says. “What now?”
“Lena says the date should be set today or tomorrow morning,” Ben says, glancing up at the time. “Martin has recused herself and it should go to court sometime in the next week or so.”
Alex nods.
“They won’t get away with it, ba …” Ben’s words are cut off by the shrill sound of a cell phone. Lena’s name flashes on the home screen and he taps it to answer. He listens, ignoring Alex’s attempts to find out what she’s saying. Eventually he thanks her and hangs up; tosses the phone on the table.
“They want to see us in court, two weeks Monday.”
✽ ✽ ✽