CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I can’t believe how many reporters are outside,” I groaned, my stomach churning with nerves. I looked around the packed courtroom and wondered how many of the spectators believed I was a battered girlfriend.
“It’s going to be okay, kiddo,” Walt assured me. “Frank told me he spent a lot of time on the phone with the prosecutor this morning. I don’t think this hearing is going to go the way you’re expecting.”
“I hope you’re right. But I have to say I’d have a little more faith if Frank were here. Ethan’s hearing starts in five minutes,” I whispered, my pulse racing.
After a lot of thought, Ethan decided to change his plea to no contest to the assault charges instead of continuing on with a trial. Frank spoke to the prosecutor, who agreed he wouldn’t push for jail time.
I stared at Ethan as he sat quietly at the defense table. I wanted so badly for the nightmare to be over for him. I said a silent prayer that the prosecutor would keep his word and Frank finally pushed through the courtroom doors.
“Sorry,” he whispered as he passed us.
He moved with quick, excited gestures as he made his way to the front of the courtroom. He dropped a file on the prosecutor’s desk before taking a seat next to Ethan. They huddled together and after a few moments, Ethan pulled away looking just as excited as our lawyer.
Oh my God. Did we finally catch a break?
A wave of adrenaline washed over me and my heart skipped with excitement. Something happened and by the looks of it, it was good news.
“All rise,” the bailiff instructed. “This court is now in session. Her Honorable Judge Liesel Henshaw is presiding.”
A tall, formidable looking woman with a round face stepped through the side door and settled down behind the bench.
“You may be seated,” she called out. She slid a pair of reading glasses up her nose and peered down at the file.
“We’re here to discuss the charges against Ethan McAlister,” she began. “Mr. Feldstein, feel free to begin your opening statement.”
The prosecutor rose to his feet. “Your Honor, the defendant himself has admitted he assaulted Mr. Montez. Why he entered a not guilty plea is beyond me, quite frankly. The defense is going to try to persuade you to believe Mr. McAlister was provoked, and therefore not responsible for his actions. I will call multiple witnesses who witnessed the attack first-hand and can attest to the fact that Mr. McAlister was completely in control. I trust that your honor will see the defendant’s excuses for exactly what they are: excuses.”
The prosecutor returned to his chair and Frank left his. “Your Honor, the state’s witnesses will not be necessary. We’re willing to concede that Mr. McAlister hit Mr. Montez several times with his closed fist. We simply request that the court listen to a new witness who just came forward this morning.”
“If you’re admitting your client’s guilt, I think we’re done here,” the judge replied, her voice irritated and dismissive.
“Your Honor, due to my client’s profession, the state has charged him with second-degree assault. They basically declared his body a deadly weapon. I feel the new witness will shed light on my client’s behavior and perhaps persuade you to reduce the charges.”
“Mr. Feldstein?” the judge asked.
He cleared his throat and rose slightly out of his seat. “If the defendant is admitting guilt, the state is fine with the defense’s request.”
“Very well, counselor. But make your point quickly.”
“The defense calls Doctor Harold Levin to the stand,” Frank announced.
A tall man with gray hair and fallen, defeated shoulders made his way to the stand. The bailiff swore him in and Frank approached the stand.
“Doctor Levin, please tell us where you’re employed.”
“I am the lead physician for the National Anti-Doping Initiative.”
Frank nodded. “You drug test athletes predominately, yes?”
“Yes,” he agreed, his eyes darting nervously around the room.
“Were you present when the defendant was tested at Stallions Stadium on Saturday, January ninth of this year?”
“Yes,” he agreed again, his voice heavy with guilt.
“The results of that test?”
“They were positive.”
“Positive… are you aware that seven hours later, the defendant had a second test, which came back clear of any drugs? And that he’s passed two subsequent tests?”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“Your lab is currently verifying the results of those tests, correct?”
“Correct.”
Where is this going?
The doctor was sweating so hard, I half expected him to melt into a puddle on the witness stand.
“Doctor Levin, how long do anabolic steroids stay in someone’s system?”
“Two to three months, in most cases.”
“As an expert in this field, how do you explain the contradicting test results?”
The doctor let out a long breath and closed his eyes. “I altered Mr. McAlister’s results at the request of Victor Montez.”
I must be dreaming. This is too perfect to be reality.
“Did Mr. Montez pay you to alter the results?” Frank pressed on.
“No. Mr. Montez has certain… evidence of a personal indiscretion. He blackmailed me into changing the results.”
“Thank you for coming forward, Doctor Levin. I have no further questions.”
Frank returned to his table and the prosecutor sprang to his feet.
“Doctor Levin, what is the nature of this so-called evidence Mr. Montez has against you?”
The pained look on the doctor’s face made my heart ache for him. I hated that the prosecutor asked the question, but I was curious to hear the answer.
“I cheated on my wife,” Levin confessed. “It happened several years ago, at one of Mr. Montez’s casinos. He has video that I thought would ruin my life.”
“And why have you come forward now? Did Mr. McAlister offer you protection, money?”
“No, sir. I came forward because it’s the right thing to do. It’s what I should have done in the first place, after Victor confronted me with the video. I confessed to my wife yesterday and called Ethan’s attorney this morning. I fully understand that coming forward means the end of my career. But I couldn’t live with myself if I hadn’t.”
The prosecutor nodded. “Did Mr. Montez tell you why he wanted you to tamper with Mr. McAlister’s test results?”
“He said Ethan wasn’t doing as he was told and needed to be taught a lesson.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I have no more questions.”
“The witness is excused,” the judge declared.
The prosecutor stayed on his feet. “Your Honor, the defendant has already admitted his guilt. The state is willing to reduce the charge to fourth-degree assault, in light of the new witness.”
“Very well, counselor. I approve. Mr. McAlister, please stand.”
Ethan and Frank rose to their feet.
“I hereby find you guilty of assault in the fourth degree. I understand that Mr. Montez provoked you, and I find it appalling. As was your reaction. I’m sentencing you to two years of probation and a six-month anger management program. I understand that violence is a part of your life, Mr. McAlister. But keep it on the football field. If I see you in my court again, I won’t be so lenient.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a grateful nod.
“Court is dismissed,” she declared. She halfheartedly knocked her gavel on the desk and Ethan turned to me with a sad smile. I leaned over the half wall partition and wrapped him in a hug.
“This couldn’t have gone better,” I whispered into his ear.
“I know,” he agreed, holding me tighter. “A part of me was still hoping I’d get out of this without probation. I need to talk to Frank and see if I’ll be required to stay in Oregon.”
“I know you’re worried about your career. But I’m happy just knowing you’re not going to jail.”
“That’s definitely an upside,” he agreed, pulling away with a grin.
“Congratulations, Ethan,” Walt said. He reached for a handshake and pulled Ethan into a hug. “I’m going to introduce myself to Doctor Levin and thank him for coming forward. Want to join me?”
“Definitely,” Ethan agreed.
“In a minute. First, I’m going to the restroom,” I told them.
Ethan planted a soft kiss on my forehead, then he and Walt joined Frank and the doctor near the witness stand. As the relief started sinking in, I suddenly became very aware of the crowd and all the noise they were making. No one was leaving the courtroom, and I realized they were all hoping for a photo op.
Nice. Yesterday, they were ready to lynch him.
I was relieved to find the women’s room empty. I peed, washed my hands, and nearly walked straight into Marsha as I swung open the bathroom door. She stumbled backwards a few steps, then met my eyes with a glare.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded. I looked her up and down, a bit confused by her sudden change of style. She’d traded in her usually tailored looked for baggy mom jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled into a low, messy ponytail and her face was cosmetics free.
She must have wanted to blend in with the crowd.
“I came to support Ethan,” she lied.
“That’s horseshit and you know it. You set all of this in motion. You have no regard for anyone but yourself, do you, Marsha? You tried to mastermind your own child’s destruction. Not to mention what you did to poor little Alfie.”
Her eyes widened and I could tell my last comment caught her off guard. “That little boy from your class? You think I was the one who hurt him?” I could tell the confusion in her voice was genuine, but it didn’t slow me down.
“Don’t stand there pretending to be innocent. Ethan and I both know what you’ve been up to. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my fiancé.”
I pushed past her and continued on to the courtroom. Walt and the bailiff were waiting for me just outside the door.
“Ethan was about to be mobbed, so a few of the guards escorted him and Frank to the car,” he explained. “Officer Carlton waited to escort us.”
“Thank you. I’m ready to get out of here.” I took my uncle’s arm and he gave it a gentle pat.
“I’m sure you’re ready to relax, now that all of this is over,” Walt observed.
“Who said anything about relaxing? Now that I know neither of us is going to prison, I have a wedding to plan.”
***
“Want another glass of wine, baby?” Ethan asked. He stood at the bar cart and poured himself a third glass of sangria.
“No, two is my limit tonight. It’s a school night, remember? Besides, we still have a ton of work to do,” I reminded him. Ethan and I were in a spare bedroom he was converting into a home office. I sat crossed legged on a leather chaise lounge with two different binders in front of me. One was full of wedding plans, the other held ideas for renovating the house.
“In the past two hours, we’ve agreed on a location, finalized the guest list, and hired a caterer. What else could we possibly have to do?”
I flipped through the wedding binder. “Well, we have to choose our colors, decide if we want a DJ or a band, you still need to pick your groomsmen, we need flowers, linens, the list goes on and on. And we told the contractor we’d have our tile and carpet decisions to him by Friday, and we haven’t even opened that box of samples he sent over.”
“Okay, okay,” Ethan relented. “We have a ton to get done. But I feel like we’ve been moving ninety miles an hour since the hearing. I think we deserve to slow down and catch our breath.”
I sighed and closed my binders. “I know. But I have so much extra stuff coming up at work. And we’ve booked the garden for June. I feel like if I don’t get everything in order now, we’re going to run out of time.”
Ethan sat down on the chaise lounge and wiggled behind me, pulling my back to his chest.
“Fine, we can keep planning if you want,” he relented.
I pushed the binders to the foot of the chair and snuggled against Ethan. “You’re right. We deserve a chance to catch our breath.” Just as I was getting comfortable, Ethan’s phone rang. He shifted his weight to one hip and pulled the phone from his pocket. He started down at the screen, obviously confused.
“Who is it?”
“Mark Daniels. He’s the team manager. I’m sorry, Em. I have to take this. Hello?”
I slid forward so Ethan could stand up. He crawled out of the chair and started pacing the room.
“No… no, Emily and I have gotten out of the habit of watching the news. No reporters. We have an app that sends unrecognized numbers straight to voicemail… Really? I had my suspicions, but I never imagined it ran that deep. Yes, it is a shame… I see. Are you sure?”
Excitement grew in Ethan’s voice and he turned to me with a smile, still talking to Mark. “Thank you very much, Mark. Yes. Yes, I agree. Let me talk to Emily and I will call you back… okay, talk to you soon.” He hung up the phone and let out a triumphant yelp.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He pulled me to my feet and wrapped me into a bear hug. “You’re not going to believe this. Victor’s been arrested.”
“What?”
He released me and nodded, the jubilant smile still plastered across his face. “After the hearing, the prosecutor sat down with Doctor Levin. The doctor gave him enough information for the judge to sign off on a warrant. The cyber division broke into Victor’s email account. He’s been arrested for everything from conspiracy, coercion, fraud, and a host of other crimes.”
“I can’t believe it. This is such wonderful news!” I hugged him again, elated. Ethan squeezed me once and then pulled away.
“It gets even better. Victor’s in deep shit. So deep that the league has ruled him unfit to own a franchise. Seems old Vic has violated nearly every article of that morality clause he was holding over my head.”
“So who owns the team? You?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “No. Victor still owns it at the moment. But he’s been stripped of all control and he’ll be forced to sell the team. Mark is in control, temporarily. And he just offered to reinstate my contract, effective immediately.”
“Is he going to let you play next Sunday?” I asked, my voice dancing with excitement. The Stallions had managed to win their last two playoff games without Ethan, and they’d qualified to play in the Super Bowl. Ethan had been happy for his old teammates, but I knew it killed him not to be able to join in their victory.
“Yep. He doesn’t think my replacement can stand up to Philadelphia.”
“This is wonderful. But what about your probation?” I asked. I didn’t want to put a damper on Ethan’s joy, but I also didn’t want to see him get his hopes up, only to be crushed later on.
“Mark has already spoken with my parole officer. I have permission to travel with the team.” He raised a hand for a high five.
I breathed a sigh of relief and smacked his palm. “This is really happening? Everything’s really working out?”
“It’s really happening,” he agreed. “We’re free, Emily. Victor’s going to prison for a very long time. He can’t hurt us anymore. We’re free to be together, to do the work we love, and we don’t have to look over our shoulder wondering what’s going to happen next. This couldn’t have worked out any better.”
“I think a celebration is in order,” I announced. I refilled our wine glasses and passed one to Ethan before lifting mine in a toast. “To our freedom.”
“Damn right,” Ethan agreed. He lifted his glass to his lips. I set mine down on the bar cart and boldly stripped out of my clothes, holding his gaze.
“I like the way you celebrate,” he told me with a grin.
I sat down on the chaise and beckoned for him to join me. When he reached the chair, I grabbed him by the hips.
“I’m so proud of you,” I told him, staring up into his blissful blue eyes. I unfastened the button of his jeans and slid the zipper down. Ethan smiled down at me and tugged his pants and boxers down his thighs. His hard cock was eye level and I dove for it, stroking his shaft as I ran my tongue across the head. Ethan groaned and ran his fingers through my hair as I took him deeper into my throat.
“Oh God, Emily,” he groaned.
I pulled away and stroked him firmly with both hands. “You like that, baby?” I purred.
“Yes,” he gasped as I took him into my mouth again.
I stroked his shaft with one hand and teased his balls with the other, all the while swirling my tongue around the head of his cock.
“I don’t want to come yet,” he growled. He took me by the shoulders and gently pushed me onto my back. I scooted backwards on the chaise with Ethan following on all fours. I propped myself up and Ethan buried his face between my legs. He licked and sucked my clit before pushing his tongue inside me. He stroked my clit with two slick fingers, pushing me closer to the edge.
“Are you going to come for me, baby?” he asked, replacing his tongue with his fingers. He found my G-spot and pressed it firmly as he lashed my clit with his tongue.
“Yes,” I cried out. “Oh God, Ethan… yes.”
He increased the pressure of his mouth, lashing and sucking my clit as his fingers worked their magic. I let out an instinctive growl and tugged Ethan’s hair as I came with a gush. Ethan crawled on top of me and cradled my face, kissing me tenderly as he slowly pushed inside me. I was still riding the waves of my first release, and the throbs of Ethan’s cock sent me directly into my second. I dug my fingernails into his back and held tight as he slowed his body.
“Do you need a minute?” he said into my ear and I felt the strain in his words.
“No,” I insisted, rocking against him. “I don’t want it to stop. Don’t let it stop,” I begged.
Ethan lowered his head and ran his lips across my neck as he drove in and out of me. Maybe it was the way he moved, or maybe it was the relief of finally being free from Victor. It was probably a combination. But the sex Ethan and I had that night was unlike anything I’d experienced before or since. We moved together perfectly, as if we’d truly become one person. I’d had multiple orgasms before, but this was different. Waves of ecstasy washed over me like the tides, ebbing just long enough for me to catch my breath before overwhelming me again. My body clenched and curled, and Ethan seemed to grow longer and harder with every thrust. When he spasmed and filled me, I finally understood what it meant to feel the earth move.
Ethan collapsed by my side and pulled me into his arms. I curled around him, my muscles still uncontrollably clenched.
“That was incredible, baby,” he said, still struggling for breath.
“Amazing doesn’t even begin to describe it,” I corrected him. “You may have to move me to bed later. I’m not sure my legs will ever work again.”
Ethan laughed and sat up. He massaged my thigh and a look of shock crossed his face. “You weren’t kidding. Your legs feel like rocks. Are you okay?”
I smiled and ran a finger through his damp hair. “I’ve never been better.”
***
“How’s Ethan holding up?” Uncle Walt asked. “I’m glad his name has been cleared. But I don’t imagine all of the press his parents are getting has been easy.”
“It’s been rough,” I agreed. “But I don’t think the news stories are bothering him as much as the calls from his mother. All of the Montez’s bank accounts have been frozen. Marsha expects Ethan to help her leave the country before she’s indicted.”
“That woman has some nerve,” Walt said, gritting his teeth. He took a long sip of his chai and stared out the café window. Ethan was at practice and Claudia had been called into the ER, so my uncle and I were having an impromptu early dinner.
News of Victor’s arrest spread like wildfire. Several twenty-four-hour news stations had already done hour long specials on the story, recounting all of the past crimes Victor had been suspected of but never charged for. Pundits were in agreement that Marsha Montez was just as guilty as her husband. The FBI had taken control of the investigation, and they were much more closed lipped than the local PD. Ethan and I didn’t know for sure if Marsha was being investigated. But by her frantic voicemails, it was clear she expected to be arrested at any moment.
“She really does,” I agreed. “I spoke to Dickson yesterday. So far, they haven’t been able to ID the female suspect. She’s much shorter than the man and she was wearing a ball cap in the surveillance video, so they weren’t able to get a clear picture of her face. But the Dallas PD thinks they’re closing in on Rhoads.”
“I know you really want to see Marsha pay for what she did to your student. Personally, I’ll be happy just to see her locked up and out of your life. If the feds take her down before Dickson, so be it.”
Our waitress arrived at the table with our food. She set a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup in front of me. Walt opted for pastrami on rye and fries.
“Would either of you like another drink from the coffee bar?” she asked.
We both shook our heads. “No, thank you,” Walt replied.
She refilled our water glasses and moved on to another table. I dunked the corner of one of my sandwich halves into my soup and waited for the toasty bread to soak it in.
“I agree that putting Marsha somewhere she can’t hurt anyone is best for everyone. And ultimately, I don’t care how or why it happens. I just want the Hollis case solved for the sake of the family. They went through hell and they deserve to understand why. However demented the motives were.”
“That’s understandable. How close do the Dallas boys think they are to bringing Rhoads in?” he asked, popping a ketchup-drenched fry into his mouth.
“They’re pretty sure he’s working under the table at a mechanic’s shop in North Dallas. They haven’t pinned down his schedule yet and they don’t have enough manpower to keep a stakeout team nearby. But they’re driving by a few times a day, looking for signs of him.”
“If manpower is a problem, we’ll hire someone,” Walt insisted. “Or I’ll fly down to Dallas and stake the place out myself.”
I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips at the image of Uncle Walt with binoculars glued to his face. “Ethan suggested hiring a PI, but Dickson said it wasn’t a good idea. He said it’s critical that this case is handled by the book. Ethan promised to hold off on the idea for a few more days.”
“Well, if there’s nothing we can do about it for the moment, let’s change the subject,” Walt suggested. “I can hardly remember the last time we talked about something other than police investigations and criminal charges. Let’s talk about something normal, something happy.”
“Ethan and I set a date,” I told him with a grin. “We’re getting married on June eleventh at the Portland Botanical Garden.”
Walt let out an impressed whistle. “Wow. That will be beautiful, Emily. Does this mean you’re going with the big, extravagant wedding Ethan wanted?”
When Ethan and I started planning our wedding, I was shocked to hear some of his ideas. His guest list looked like a who’s who of the most influential people in sports, and he suggested we hire the recent Best New Artist recipient to perform at the reception, which he expected to last two days. I’d immediately reined him in, reminding him that the day was supposed to be about us and our future. I wasn’t interested in throwing the Wedding of the Century. I wanted to celebrate becoming his wife with the people who actually mattered to us.
“Sort of… we compromised. Ethan has a lot of friends on the team, and I understand why he doesn’t want to leave any of the other Stallions out. So he cut the list to the team and other friends. It’s still going to be five times bigger than I pictured, but Ethan gave up on the two days after party idea.”
“I have news on the wedding front as well,” Walt shared. “Claudia and I want to keep things as stress-free and fun as possible. We’re older, and neither of us is interested in having a big formal affair. We’ve decided to get married in Vegas.”
“That’s perfect,” I agreed with a smile. “In fact, I’m jealous.”
“Well, we’re planning to do it over your spring break, so you and Ethan can come with us. Maybe you can talk him into it while we’re there.”
“I can’t wait. But I’m not sure Ethan’s parole officer will give him permission to fly to Vegas. Which is a shame, because I’d honestly love nothing more than a quickie elopement.”
I spooned another bite of hot soup into my mouth and my phone started chiming from my purse.
“That’s Frank’s ringtone,” I announced. I retrieved the phone and answered it on speaker.
“Hey, Frank. You’re on speakerphone. Walt and I are having an early dinner.”
“Walt, you were my next call. I just got off of the phone with Dickson. The Dallas PD picked Rhoads up outside his place of employment early this morning. He postured for a few hours and insisted they had the wrong man. But it didn’t take them long to break him. He gave a full confession. Dickson’s willing to talk us through it if we want to drop by the station. He’ll be there late processing Rhoads’ extradition paperwork.”
I breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Did he tell them Marsha was involved?”
“I don’t know any details, Emily. Dickson didn’t want to get into specifics over the phone.”
“How far are you from the station?” Walt asked him.
“I could be there in twenty minutes.”
“Emily and I are a little farther out. Meet you there in half an hour?”
“Sounds good to me,” Frank agreed.
The line went dead and Walt met my eyes with a wide smile. “It’s finally over, kiddo. The Hollis family will have their closure and you and Ethan will be safe from his monstrous mother.”
“Ethan… I have to call Ethan. He’s still at practice, but I should probably leave him a message.”
I was surprised when Ethan answered his phone on the first ring. “I was just about to call you.”
“I’m with Uncle Walt. Frank called and—”
“Asked you to get to the police station,” he finished. “I know, I’m already here. Detective Dickson called me out of practice about an hour ago.” Ethan sounded defeated, and panic rose in my chest.
Not again. This is supposed to be the end of the nightmare. I swear to God, if Marsha has framed him for something else…
“How bad is it, Ethan?”
“It’s not bad… it’s surprising. We were way off track, Em. It’s over now, but we were way off track.”
Ethan was silent for a moment and I heard Dickson’s muffled voice in the background.
“I need to go, but I’ll explain everything when you get here,” Ethan promised.
Walt paid our bill and ushered me out of the café as I spoke. “You’re making me nervous, Ethan. You sound upset.”
“I am upset, Emily,” he agreed. “But everything will be okay, and that’s all that matters. I love you and I’ll see you soon.”
Walt opened the passenger door of his car and I dropped my phone back into my purse as I buckled my seatbelt and he took his place behind the steering wheel. He peeled out into traffic and got us to the station in record time. We found Ethan and Detective Dickson in the same room we’d met in for our last round of questioning. I took a little comfort knowing that this time, Dickson was the one responsible for giving answers.
“Hey, baby.” Ethan rose from his chair and gave me a half hug, extending his other arm to shake Walt’s hand.
“Walt, I’m glad you’re here. The fewer times I have to tell this story, the better,” Ethan said, cringing with dread.
Walt took a seat at the head of the table while I settled in beside Ethan. Before Detective Dickson could begin his explanation, Frank stepped through the door.
“Perfect,” Dickson announced as Frank sat down. “Everyone’s here. As you all know, Kelvin Rhoads was arrested in Dallas early this morning. After a few hours in custody, he broke and gave a full confession. He admitted to breaking into Emily’s classroom and tampering with the snacks. He also gave up his boss.”
“Marsha?” I asked.
Detective shook his head and looked to Ethan. Ethan took my hand and turned to me with sad, guilt-ridden eyes. “The woman Ben met outside the gym… she was Susannah Cross.”
I tried to process the news, not knowing how to feel. “Susannah? But why? You said you were never involved with her.”
Walt stiffened his shoulders a bit and I knew he was ready to come to my defense, if necessary.
“I wasn’t,” Ethan assured me. “Our relationship was exactly how I described it. She had a tough breakup with one of my teammates. We were friends, and I tried to help her. I never realized her feelings went deeper.”
Detective Dickson cleared his throat. “Susannah checked herself into a mental facility this afternoon,” he explained. “I spoke with her mother, who told me Susannah’s had a very difficult time adjusting to life in a new city. For a while, she seemed to be doing better. Then, a little less than a year ago, she became withdrawn again.”
“She did better after we became friends,” Ethan explained. “She backslid when I moved to Portland.”
Dickson nodded. “My guess is that she got even worse once she found out Ethan was involved with you, Emily.”
I sat silent, trying to make sense of what I was hearing. I couldn’t.
“I pushed you at her over Christmas,” I remembered out loud. “I actually asked you to spend time with that terrible woman. I can’t believe she’s responsible… but this doesn’t make sense. If she wanted me out of the way, there were tons of things she could have done that didn’t involve endangering an innocent child.”
“Alfie was never supposed to be involved,” Ethan explained, nearly choking on his words. His eyes were watery, but his jaw was locked.
“When the Dallas PD interrogated Rhoads, he swore up and down that he’d never heard of Alfie or any of the Hollis’s,” Dickson explained. “Later, when he confessed and gave up Susannah, he explained the full story. Susannah broke into your classroom to learn more about you. When she found the snacks in your drawer and saw a list of allergy cautions, she assumed you were the one with the allergies. You were always the target; Alfie was an innocent bystander.”
“Do the Hollis’s know all of this?” I asked, barely able to breathe let alone ask the question, but I needed to know.
Dickson nodded. “I went to their house this afternoon and explained everything. They’re relieved Kelvin and Susannah have been caught. But I doubt they’ll be letting their kids out of sight anytime soon.”
“I don’t blame them,” I agreed, thinking of that sweet little boy. “So Susannah tried to kill me?”
Ethan nodded, his jaw still tight. “I’m so sorry, Emily.”
“This wasn’t your fault, Ethan,” Walt assured him. “You didn’t realize Susannah was so troubled.”
“I know,” Ethan agreed. “But if something had happened to Emily… I don’t know what I would have done.”
“It’s a good thing we pretended to break up,” I realized out loud. “If we hadn’t, she probably would have made another move after her first attempt didn’t work.”
The detective nodded. “We’re lucky the Dallas PD caught up to Rhoads when they did. He was supposed to meet with Susannah tomorrow to discuss the next job she had for him.”
“What happens to them now?” I asked.
“That depends on the Hollis family, to an extent,” Frank broke in. “As the parents of the victim, the prosecutor will take their feelings into account before brokering any plea deals.”
Dickson nodded. “I don’t think they found any comfort in the fact that Alfie wasn’t the intended target. But I imagine they’ll agree to a certain amount of bargaining to avoid a trial. The prosecutor will likely offer to let Susannah serve her sentence at a mental health ward in exchange for a guilty plea.”
“I don’t know about the Hollis’s, but I’d be okay with that. I hate what she put us through, and I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive her. But if she’s sick, she deserves treatment.”
“That’s very big of you, Miss Kinkaid,” Dickson told me.
Walt cleared his throat. “Is there anything else we need to know?”
The detective shook his head. “Not at the moment. I’ll keep you updated on the prosecution, but this investigation is officially closed. Miss Kinkaid, you are officially free to come and go from Portland as you please. Mr. McAlister, good luck on Sunday. We’re all counting on you to bring home a win.”
***
“I can’t believe these amazing seats,” Linda gushed, staring down at the field. “And look at Melissa over there in the middle of everything.”
I followed Linda’s gaze and spotted our friend. The hottest boy band in the country had just played the Super Bowl halftime show, and Melissa was interviewing them on the sidelines.
“You and Ethan giving her that interview was the best thing that ever happened for her career,” Linda continued. “You know she has national networks calling her?”
I nodded. “She deserves it. She’s fantastic at her job.”
As promised, Melissa was the only reporter Ethan and I spoke to after the truth came out. We sat down with her the morning before we left Portland, and her station aired the segment that evening. Within an hour, the parent affiliate called and requested Melissa cover the game. It was her first national broadcast, and she was killing it.
“Melissa’s not the only one,” Walt broke in. “Ethan is on fire tonight. If the defense can get their heads out of their asses, the Stallions are going to take this. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m having the time of my life. And I’m so damn proud of him.”
Watching my uncle take such pride in Ethan was the cherry on top of what was quickly becoming my perfect life. Ethan and I had faced hell together and come out stronger on the other side. But it wasn’t just our relationship that thrived. Everyone I knew was happy. Walt was more at peace than I’d ever seen him. He and Claudia were shopping for a new home, and they were both helping Ethan and me plan our wedding. Henry was finally settling into life in Portland. The night before, he showed me pictures of engagement rings and asked my opinion. And Melissa and Ethan’s careers were taking off right before my eyes.
The players filed out of their tunnels and the crowd erupted. I spotted Ethan on the field; his eyes were narrowed with focus and he moved with confidence.
“He’s got this,” I announced.
“I think you’re right,” Henry agreed.
The Stallions started the second half with possession of the ball. Ethan moved for the middle of the field and the crowd started chanting his name. The electrifying excitement of the crowd washed over me, making my pulse race even faster. I kept my eyes fixed on Ethan as the team broke from their huddle.
The second half of the game went much better than the first. Ethan and his offense scored on three possessions in a row. The defense held Philadelphia to less than ten yards per possession.
“This game is over,” Walt announced two-thirds of the way through the last half. Ethan had just run in another touchdown, bringing the Stallion’s lead up to forty-nine points.
Henry nodded. “Philadelphia doesn’t have time to come back from this,” he agreed.
“I don’t think anyone told them that,” I said, staring down at the field. Ethan and his team hadn’t let up, but their opponents weren’t backing down either. Ethan snapped the ball and seconds later, a pair of enormous linemen tackled him to the ground. I didn’t bother to watch where the ball went. Panic washed over me and all I could think about was Ethan’s last bad tackle. I held my breath and gripped Walt’s arm, my eyes locked to the pile of bodies on top of my fiancé. One by one, they rolled off of him and Ethan sprang to his feet.
“Thank God.”
Ethan’s eyes found me in the crowd and he gave me a quick thumbs up before joining his team in the huddle.
“Getting knocked down is part of Ethan’s job,” Walt reminded me. “You’re going to have to get used to watching it.”
“I’ll never get used to it,” I insisted.
“I wouldn’t either,” Claudia agreed. Her face was as white as I imagined mine was and I realized I wasn’t the only one who’d panicked when Ethan went down.
“He can obviously handle it,” Linda observed.
Ethan faked a toss to one of his receivers and ran for another touchdown, mowing down every opponent in his path with the help of two of his teammates.
“Obviously,” Walt agreed.
After Ethan’s last touchdown, everyone on the field seemed to agree with my uncle: the game was over, it was just a matter of waiting for the clock to wind down. Philadelphia made a valiant effort to lessen the gap, but to no avail. With forty-two seconds left on the clock, the Stallions gained possession of the ball and Ethan took a knee. The crowd erupted with cheers, whistles, and air horns. Painted fans rushed the field and Ethan’s teammates lifted him onto their shoulders. I knew I didn’t have a hope of reaching him in the chaos, so I watched from my seat.
Ethan’s teammates set him back on the ground and dumped a cooler of Gatorade over his head. The crowd closed in and I lost sight of him.
“Ethan’s probably looking for you,” Walt insisted. “I’ll brave the madness with you if you’d like to go find him.”
I shook my head. “That would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Besides, I’m sure Ethan’s celebrating the win with his teammates. We’ll wait here and he’ll find us when the madness dies down.”
I watched the sea of people in front of us, giddy with happiness. I thought about who I’d been before Ethan, how determined I was to settle down into a routine, structured life. Ethan was the opposite of everything I’d ever thought I wanted. And I was happier than I’d ever thought possible.
Ethan emerged from the edge of the crowd and pulled himself over the stadium wall.
“Excellent game, son,” Walt offered, patting him on his shoulder pad.
“Thanks, Walt,” Ethan replied, his eyes on me.
“I’m so proud of you.” I beamed at him before falling into his arms. He wrapped me in a bear hug and lifted me off the ground. I knew there were cameras on us, but I didn’t care. I slid one hand up the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to mine.
We shared a long, passionate kiss before Ethan had to leave for after game interviews. The kiss went viral before Ethan finished his first interview. It didn’t bother me in the slightest.
Epilogue
Three Years and Nine Months Later
Ethan peeked his head in through the patio doors and smiled at me as I iced cupcakes at the kitchen island.
“Melissa and Dave just got here. DJ took one look at Eli and little Walt in the kiddie pool, stripped down to his diaper, and hopped in. I told Melissa I’d let you know they were here. Do you need any help?”
I shook my head, bracing my sore back with one hand. A lot had changed in the last four years, and not just when it came to our house. I was seven months into my second pregnancy, and our little girl was taking a toll on my body. I could have easily hired a caterer, but we were celebrating our twin boys’ third birthday and I wanted to be the kind of mom who baked birthday cakes from scratch.
“I’m just about to finish up. Is anyone else here?”
Ethan shook his head and joined me in the kitchen. He tossed a handful of sprinkles into his mouth and started arranging the cupcakes on a large platter.
“Not yet. Henry called about five minutes ago. They had a hard time finding Hugo’s floaties, but they’re on their way now.”
“Walt sent me a text. He said he and Claudia have a huge surprise, but it may make them a little late.”
An amused smile crossed Ethan’s face. “We don’t stand a chance against them. They’re going to spoil our kids rotten regardless of how much we protest.”
“That’s what grandparents are for,” I reminded him with a grin.
A few weeks before our boys were born, Ethan and I sat down and had a long talk with Walt and Claudia. I’d overheard Walt refer to himself as their great uncle, and I didn’t feel like the title fit. I thanked him for always keeping my parents’ memories alive, but pointed out that for all intents and purposes, he was my father. When I asked if the boys could call him Grandpa, he broke down in happy tears and agreed on the spot.
Ethan set the last cupcake on the platter and stood behind me, wrapping his arms beneath my growing belly. I leaned back against him, letting him hold a bulk of my weight.
“You’ve done a fantastic job, sweetheart. But I can take it from here,” he insisted. He kept one arm around me and reached for the tray with the other. “Come on. It’s time for you to get off your feet.”
He led me outside, where we found more of our friends waiting. Linda and Henry had arrived with their two-year-old son, Hugo, and Ethan’s teammate Elijah was there with his three little girls. All of the kids were playing happily inside the cushioned splash pool we’d had installed next to the adult pool.
The adults were scattered about the yard. I spotted Linda and Melissa on lounge chairs, watching the kids. They stood up and hugged me as I joined them.
“You look fantastic, Emily,” Melissa told me.
“I’m enormous,” I argued. “But thank you.”
It had been a few months since Melissa and I had seen each other. Shortly after Ethan’s first Super Bowl win, she’d accepted a job with a national sports network. Her career led her to Dave Hudson, an investigative reporter who worked for an affiliate network. They married after less than a month of dating and welcomed their little boy a year and a half later. They lived in New York City, but they made it to Portland whenever they could.
“Cut it out, Em. You’re the cutest little pregnant woman I’ve ever seen. You’re all belly this time,” Linda pointed out.
“You’re right,” I agreed. “With the boys, my whole body swelled up like a puffer fish. This time, I just look like I’ve stuffed a half-dozen bowling balls down my shirt.”
“You love it and you know it,” Melissa countered with a knowing smile.
I cradled my belly and grinned back at her. “I do. I told Ethan last night, I’d have a dozen of them if I could.”
I watched my sons laughing and running through the water as fast as their chubby little legs would carry them. The boys were conceived the night the Stallions won their first Super Bowl. They were identical, both the spitting image of their father who joined them in the tiny pool.
“Who wants to play water tag?” Ethan called out. The water hit the top of his ankles. He’d have looked ridiculous if the scene wasn’t so adorable.
The kids rushed him with shouts of “we do,” “not it,” and “where’s base?”
“He’s really wonderful with them,” Linda observed. “How’s he settling into retirement?”
I laughed. “He gave up football, but he’s hardly retired. If anything, he’s working more now that he’s concentrating on his investments full time. But having him home has been wonderful. I’ve been exhausted and he’s picked up all the slack with the boys.”
Ethan played a total of four seasons with the Stallions, two of which led to championship rings. After his second victory, he decided to give the sport up for good. He wanted to have more time at home with our growing family, and we were thrilled to have him. Eli and Walt were daddy’s boys through and through, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Dave and Henry joined Ethan and the kids, and my friends and I watched them with broad, content smiles.
“I can’t believe the boys are three years old,” Melissa said. “In some ways, it seems like they were just born last week. But if you think about everything that happened right before then, it feels like a lifetime ago.”
I nodded, thinking back to the hurdles Ethan and I had to jump to be together. We hadn’t seen either of his parents since the day they were sentenced to prison. Ethan spoke to the judge, urging him to keep Victor and Marsha out of society for the maximum amount of time allowed. The judge was persuaded either by the speech or the sheer volume of convictions against them. Victor was sentenced to ninety years in jail, Marsha sixty-five. There was a chance one of them would be paroled, but they wouldn’t be a problem for a long time. A majority of the Montez’s vast fortune was seized by the government and used to reimburse their victims. The balance was given to Ethan, at Victor’s request. We donated it to a local food bank.
Susannah Cross pled guilty to the charges against her. As Detective Dickson predicted, the prosecution allowed her to serve her time at a mental facility instead of prison. She was released after two years and settled down to a quiet life at her parents’ house. She sent me a moving, apologetic letter and took responsibility for what she’d done. Last I heard, she was starting an Etsy shop and saving to move out on her own. I wished her well and prayed she didn’t have a setback.
The prosecution wasn’t quite as lenient with Kelvin Rhoads. He was charged with premeditated assault and attempted murder, both with special circumstances given the age of the victim. Prosecutor Nelson offered him a twenty-year sentence in exchange for a no contest plea, and Rhoads decided not to take his chances with a trial.
Alfie and Amaya Hollis returned to The Day School for the second grade, after I quit to stay home with the boys. They never forgave me for what happened to their son. And after having children of my own, I didn’t blame them. I knew I’d always carry a twinge of guilt for what Alfie went through, but that guilt is what drove me to do better.
When the boys turned a year old, I went back to work part-time as a substitute teacher at a school for special needs children. I planned to take the first year of my daughter’s life off as well, but I knew I’d always go back to the classroom. With Ethan working from home full time, we had the luxury of being able to tag team the childcare so our kids rarely had to be with a sitter. And when we did need a sitter, Grandpa Walt was always happy to fill the role.
“Who wants cupcakes?” Ethan called out once the kids started slowing down in the water.
The kids yelled “me” in unison as their fathers lifted them into their arms.
“We have to light the candles and sing first,” I insisted, struggling out of the chaise.
“Let me help you,” Claudia called out. I turned to greet her as she rushed toward me.
“You’re just in time,” I said, accepting her arm. She pulled me to my feet and I noticed she was downright glowing.
“What’s going on, Claudia? Does this have something to do with your big surprise?”
She nodded and blushed. “Walt’s bringing her in.”
Her?
I looked up just as my uncle stepped through the open gate with a baby carrier in his arms.
“What’s going on, Claudia?” I asked.
“Is that a baby?” Ethan added, moving beside me with the boys. He set them on their feet and toweled them off, his eyes fixed on my uncle.
Claudia nodded as Walt joined us. I’d never seen him smile so wide.
“Emily, Ethan… everyone. I’d like to introduce you to Isabella Rylan Kinkaid.”
“When did this happen?” I gushed, staring down in awe at the tiny baby girl. I could tell by her tiny fingers that she was two weeks old, tops.
“I didn’t know you were even looking into adoption,” Ethan added.
Walt sat Isabella’s carrier down on the chaise so Eli and little Walt could get a better look at their cousin.
“We filed the paperwork a few years ago,” Claudia confessed. “We didn’t think we had much of a chance of getting a placement, being so old.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Melissa insisted. “People in their late forties have babies all the time.”
Walt unfastened Isabella’s safety straps and lifted her from the carrier. I reached for her instinctively and he laid her in my open arms. Little Walt tugged at the bottom of Walt’s shorts.
“I like your new baby, Grandpa. But can we have our cupcakes now?” Walt laughed and lifted both of the boys in his arms.
“Yes. It is definitely time for cupcakes,” he agreed, turning toward the picnic table.
“Will you light our candles?” Eli asked him.
“Of course.” Walt winked at me and sat the boys down on the bench. The other kids joined them, and Walt and Claudia lit the boy’s candles. Everyone started singing Happy Birthday except Hugo, who couldn’t resist shoving his cupcake into his mouth.
Ethan leaned against a nearby tree trunk and I joined him, still cradling Isabella. I leaned back into his chest and we watched our sons blow out their candles.
“She’s beautiful,” Ethan whispered over my shoulder.
“She’s a miracle,” I agreed.
“This is a pretty spectacular life we have, Emily.”
I shifted Isabella to my left arm and moved Ethan’s right hand over my belly, where our daughter was turning somersaults.
“It’s amazingly spectacular,” I agreed. “And it’s only going to get better from here.”
THE END
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