Chapter16
Shanice breezed into the room, her bright yellow dress leaving little to the imagination, her hair in thick square braids with strands of electric blue woven in. Charity watched Lincoln’s reaction to her friend out of the corner of her eye. When he just smiled and stepped forward to greet her, Charity’s heart swelled.
That was the best first impression Shanice had made so far.
But when he stuck out his hand in greeting, Shanice looked at it like he was trying to hand her a snake, then put her hands on her hips and glared at Charity.
“This isn’t one of those shotgun weddings, is it?” Shanice asked, her loud voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings.
The judge stifled a snicker, shuffling papers to hide her less than aloof reaction. Charity was used to it and a little amused that no one seemed offended by Shanice’s brash nature. That was a good start.
“It’s good to see you, too,” she said, hugging her friend. “It was my decision. He asked, I said yes, and we decided not to wait. You’re the only family I’ve got.”
Shanice narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t lay that guilt on me,” she said. “I ain’t standing up for this unless I know that he’s the right man for you.”
Charity sighed and was about to argue, but Lincoln stepped in, putting his hand on her back and standing beside her.
“Shanice has every right to question this,” he said. “Your ex treated you horribly, and I think it’s sweet that she’s so protective.” He looked at Shanice. “I would be concerned if your best friend didn’t say something, Charity. I’m here to answer any questions, but if it’s going to take a while, perhaps we should ask the judge to reschedule us for a later time so we don’t waste hers.”
The judge chuckled openly.
“Don’t worry about me. I have nothing on the books the rest of the day. I’ve got time.”
Still smiling, she leaned forward and put her chin in her cupped hand and settled in to watch the show.
“That’s what I’m talking bout,” Shanice said, smiling at the judge.
Then she turned her attention to Lincoln.
“What do you do for a living?” she asked without beating around the bush.
“I have a lucrative vlog and I’m a trust fund baby.”
“Good start,” Shanice said. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-four.”
“Have you been married before?”
“No.”
“Engaged?”
“Just to Charity.”
“Where do you plan on living?”
“That’s up to her,” he said. “I can be happy anywhere, and I have enough money to travel if need be.”
“What about kids? Do you want kids? Charity needs to have babies, she’s so good with them.”
“I want at least one child,” he said, squeezing Charity’s hand. “Maybe twenty or somewhere in between. I like kids.”
“Boy quit playin’,” she said. “Twenty, pfft.”
But Charity knew that Lincoln had her. He was honest and blunt, two things that charmed Shanice much quicker than telling her what he thought she might want to hear. Lincoln had one foot in the door, and that was better than most people did with Shanice in hours. Lincoln had torn down her walls in a matter of minutes.
The judge was still sitting there, looking bemused and enjoying the show. Charity instantly liked her and was glad that she’d been the only judge available for an impromptu wedding. Another judge might have shut them down over Shanice’s flair.
Shanice continued her interrogation, and Lincoln answered her every question with complete honestly, no matter how it made him looked. Charity listened quietly, marveling at her friend’s ability to learn more about Lincoln in a few minutes than she had living with him twenty-four-seven for over a week.
When Shanice finally took a breath, Charity interrupted her.
“I think that’s enough for now,” she said, smiling warmly. “If you don’t like him by now, you’re not gonna like him.”
“That’s the truth,” Shanice muttered.
She regarded him for a long time, then a wide, dazzling smile cracked her face, and she hugged Lincoln roughly.
“Welcome to the family, Boo,” she said, squeezing him so hard that his eyes seemed to bug out of his skull.
Charity couldn’t help but laugh, and the judge was done for. There was no way she was going to stop laughing any time soon.
“We’re ready,” Charity said.
“Do you have another witness?” the judge asked.
“No,” Charity said, looking blankly at Lincoln.
Shanice rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Oh Lord, I’ll be back,” she said, walking out of the room and returning in a few seconds with a bewildered looking man in a janitor’s uniform. “You belong to the groom, my girl already got her witness right here.”
Shanice flipped her hair back out of the way and went to stand by Charity. Lincoln looked genuinely shocked as the janitor took his place beside him, but the judge only shrugged as if it were the most natural direction for things to be going after Shanice walked into the room.
The judge began the abbreviated ceremony, and Lincoln stood beside her, holding her hand in his and leaning over to kiss her cheek several times during the short ceremony. Charity didn’t hear a word the judge said until she addressed Charity directly.
Charity answered without looking at the judge.
“I do,” she said as she stared into Lincoln’s eyes.
Lincoln answered in kind, then the judge pronounced them legally wed, signing the marriage certificate with a flourish, then smiling from the bench when Shanice rounded everyone up for a group picture.
Just as quickly as it had started, it was over, and they were walking down the courthouse steps together with Shanice hot on their heels.
“Where have you been?” she asked before they reached the bottom of the steps.
“I needed to get away,” Charity said.
“I guess, ‘cause I called you a few times and you didn’t answer.” She looked Lincoln over from head to toe, then winked at Charity. “I guess I can understand why you were distracted.”
“You’re a mess,” she said to Shanice.
“And you’re my best friend,” Shanice teased back. “Are you ghosting me again? When am I gonna see you?”
“Soon,” Charity said. “I don’t know when, but not more than a couple weeks. I just needed to get away after everything with…” she stopped, afraid to even say his name out loud.
“I gotcha,” Shanice said. “I’ll be around when you’re ready.”
Charity hugged her friend, tears threatening.
“You always are,” Charity said. “I love you for that.”
“Don’t you ever forget it,” Shanice said.
Charity almost replied, but when she stepped away from her friend, she realized that the last promise had been directed at Lincoln. Lincoln nodded solemnly, then waited for Charity to give Shanice one more hug before he opened the passenger door to the Porsche and helped Charity in.
“Mmm,” Shanice said. “At least he ballin’.”
“Bye, Shanice,” Charity yelled out the window as they drove away, leaving her friend laughing as she got into her pearl white Escalade.
“She’s something else,” Lincoln said.
“You survived.”
“Barely.”
“Thank you,” Charity said, taking his hand.
“For what?”
“For not telling anyone about the baby yet. I don’t know what I’m going to say to Shanice, but I’m not ready to figure that out right now.”
“Eloping was enough for one day. We’ll save the pregnancy for us for now.”
“You really are okay with all this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked. “Charity, I love you. Everything else is just icing on the cake.”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she said, tears threatening.
“I’ve asked myself that same question more times than I can count. Fate has a funny way of sending us the exact person we need when the time is just right.”
***
Will’s phone rang as he was pulling into the parking lot of the bank, Assistant District Attorney Wittman’s name popping up on the screen for the fifth time in the past half hour. This time, he answered it, holding the phone away from his ear until Wittman was done shouting.
“Where the hell are you?” Wittman asked, far from calm.
“I’m at Seattle Regional Finance,” he said.
“Why?” Wittman said, his confusion momentarily diffusing his anger. “I thought you were coming to the office.”
“I was,” Will said. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’m putting myself at risk meeting in secret like that with you.”
“I figured you would understand why discretion was imperative.”
“I do. Which is why I’ve put the evidence I have for you, including the GPS coordinates you need to find him, in a safe deposit box at the bank. Once the bank has issued me a cashier’s check for the amount we agreed upon, including the finder’s bonus, and I have left the bank, I will let you know where I’ve left the key to the box.”
“You can’t be serious?” Wittman said, but Will ignored his sarcasm.
“I put my life at risk to find your son. I’m not about to risk anything else.”
Wittman breathed out, taking a moment to compose himself before he spoke.
“It’s obvious that you learned some things about my son I was hoping to keep private,” he said. “I hope that you’ll consider keeping those things to yourself.”
“I will absolutely keep them to myself,” he assured the man. “I have no desire whatsoever to be associated with you or your family in any way, and sharing what I know would remove my anonymity.”
“I see,” Wittman said. “Tell me, did you learn anything that might help me with the case?”
“Nothing you don’t already know,” he said.
“I’ll be at the bank in fifteen minutes,” Wittman said, then hung up.
Will put the phone in his pocket, walking into the bank and going into the second cubical.
“Can I help you?” asked an Indian woman with a sweet smile and the thickest black hair he’d ever seen.
“I need to leave this envelope for my friend. Can I tell you the password and leave it here with you?”
“Of course,” the woman said, putting the envelope in a locked drawer.
“The password is giggle fruit.”
Her hand went to her mouth and she stifled a laugh.
“I’ll remember that,” the woman said. “Thank you for being the best part of Seattle Regional Finance.”
Will thanked the woman, took a seat near the teller line, and settled in to wait for Mr. Wittman.
He didn’t have to wait long. Mr. Wittman rushed into the bank as if the hounds of hell were on his heels, giving Will a withering look before walking up to the teller with a check. There was some discussion, but once Wittman showed his ID to the bank manager, things went quickly and Wittman practically tossed the cashier’s check at Will.
“Where is the key?” Wittman demanded through clenched teeth.
“I’ll call you when I’ve left the parking lot.”
“You’ve seen too many movies,” Wittman hissed angrily.
Will shrugged.
“I want to live to enjoy the fruits of my labor,” he said. “I’ll call when I’m down the street.”
Wittman plopped down in one of the lobby chairs, and Will stood, walking away calmly though he could feel Wittman’s angry glare on his back. He got into his car, driving around the block and doubling back to make sure he wasn’t being followed, then driving two blocks to his bank.
The cashier’s check was deposited in his account without much fuss after the bank manager verified the authenticity with their neighboring bank. Will checked his app to make sure that the money was in his account, then left the bank, almost too giddy to contain his excitement. When he got into his Jeep, he laughed out loud, pulling onto the road and heading for the highway.
When he was safely on the freeway, he called Wittman.
“What took you so long,” the man said in a low, threatening tone.
“Giggle fruit,” he said.
“You can’t be serious.”
“There is a woman in a cubicle across from where you sat. She’s wearing a green sweater and gold bangles on her wrists. She’s waiting for you.”
He hung up before Wittman could say another word, getting off the freeway at the next exit and pulling over in an abandoned parking lot. He removed the storage card from his cellphone that held all his videos and pictures, then he factory-reset his phone and tossed it out the window into a low bush that hadn’t been trimmed in ages. He got back onto the freeway and headed for the nearest electronics store. The phone had served him well, but he wasn’t foolish enough to keep it.
Across town, Wittman’s phone rang and he answered it without a word.
“We couldn’t trace it,” the man said. “He’s somewhere within five miles of where you are, but that’s as close as we got.”
“He’s long gone,” Wittman said, hanging up with a shake of his head.
It didn’t matter. He was done with Will Harrington, and the money he’d paid him to find George had been a scant drop in the bucket to him. Will could keep the money, as long as he’d really found George.
He smiled when he made eye contact with the woman behind the desk, waiting until she hung up the phone to speak to her.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I believe you have some giggle fruit for me,” he said, his face turning red with embarrassment at the ridiculous password.
She smiled and unlocked her drawer, handing him an envelope with a single key inside.
“Thank you,” he said to the woman, then he left to find the bank manager and collect whatever Will had left him in the safe deposit box.