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Recharged by Lulu Pratt (34)

CHAPTER 34

 

Zoe

 

Our timing was excellent. My preliminary hearing had been scheduled for the day after I delivered the full order for the cakes, which, along with that damned jaywalking squirrel, had started this whole business in the first place.

From what I could tell, these hearings were to decide if the case would move forward or get thrown out. I’m unsure how accurate that is, but you should just blindly trust me. Without Kelly’s testimony, I would be looking at fraud charges, lawyers’ fees and maybe even jail time. In other words, I’d be slinking back home to NYC with my tail between my legs.

But with her testimony, condemning Zach as the “mastermind,” a term loosely employed here, with that, I was a free fucking bird.

Dylan and I parted ways shortly after letting Kelly go home, with firm instructions about the time and place she was to show up to court. She was glum — fair enough, it’s not fun ratting out your boyfriend to a county judge — but compliant.

Me? I had a one-track mind and wanted rather desperately to sleep over with Dylan. But he insisted he had to get the new information to the DA’s office, to get the evidence and testimony in front of the attorneys before the proceedings. Or at least, I think that’s what he said. I was kind of hazy on the legalese and preferred to keep it that way. Besides, after the ‘no sex’ portion of the conversation, I kind of tuned out.

Come the morning of the preliminary hearing, I put on my nicest pair of jeans, a blouse and even a little blazer with three-quarter length sleeves. It was dignified, professional, with a ‘fuck you’ edge to it. It wasn’t quite as hot as my Black Dog look, but then again, what I was doing today was actually legal.

I rolled up to the courthouse in a timely fashion. The case, if nothing else, was a nice excuse to sleep in past my usual five in the morning call time. I’d closed the bakery for the day, since all two of its regular employees were going to be at trial.

Fresh faced and eager, I jumped out of my car, and from across the way, was greeted by Dylan and Tom, who were milling about in the parking lot. The courthouse was in Fallow Springs, but because the crime rate in the city was so very low, with the exception of our chums over at the Black Dog Tattoo Parlor, we were the only two cars parked. Presumably, Kelly, Zach, the district attorney and the judge would be showing up soon.

Meanwhile, both cops were in suits for their court appearances. Was this a standard among police officers? If so, I wanted to formally thank the federal government. Dylan was swelteringly hot in his outfit.

It was the first time I’d seen him out of jeans, a T-shirt and the jacket. He was tricked out in a two-piece navy suit, with oddly well-tailored lines and a skinny gray tie that pointed straight to his cock. I gulped. He looked like a businessman about to flag me over with two fingers and order me to get on my knees. A request I would happily oblige.

I walked unsteadily over to them, my knees weakened by Dylan’s slim-cut look. Oh, the things I would do to him if this case went smoothly…

“Hello there, Zoe,” Tom said as I strode up. He wore a kindly smile as his only accessory. “Pleased to see you.”

I raised my eyebrow, a little skeptical. Last we met, he’d seemed to, well, hate me.

“Hi, Tom…” I replied hesitantly.

Dylan gave the man a shoulder nudge, the way a young boy would nudge his father. I smiled at the parallel.

“Um,” Tom started, clearing his throat. “So, I’ve heard about the new evidence.” He paused and looked at me. When I didn’t offer any words, he continued, “And I wanted to say… I wanted to say… just that, I’m sorry. Not because I didn’t believe you, but because I made up my mind before I’d examined all the possibilities. It was irresponsible, and not worthy of my station.”

I raced to comfort the grizzled old cop, who was clearly quite torn up over the error. “Hey now, Tom, that’s okay. You made a mistake, we all do. Unlike most other people, you had the courage to apologize for it. In my book, that’s a big win.”

He smiled, and asked, “Yeah?”

I nodded in the affirmative.

“Well okay then,” he said.

A grin transformed Dylan’s face into something pure and sweet, a golden-capped expression that belonged on a church ceiling.

“You’re a good kid,” Tom declared. “And Dylan’s lucky to have you.”

Dylan smiled, and replied, “I certainly am.”

“And,” Tom went on. “I’ve tried some of those cupcakes. They’re fucking delicious.”

Our little group burst into laughter, the sobriety of the moment broken by levity.

Dylan rallied the troops, asking, “How’s about we go in and finish this thing off?”

“Oh hell yeah,” I returned. “I want this done with.”

He took my hand in his, and together, we walked into the court house.

We strode past the front desk to the singular hearing room in the place. Like I said — small town. Wasn’t much need for more than one room.

Later in the courtroom, Kelly was transformed. Gone was the prototypical ‘angsty teen’ wear, and in its place was a simple dress and flats. It seemed to suit her better, as if the scowl and anger she donned belonged to somebody else’s personality, one that she was borrowing until she could come up with a different one.

And I suspected that the personality for loan was Zach. This kid, knowing full well that he was guilty, had shown up to court in a T-shirt featuring a band I’d never heard of, ripped jeans and an unappealing scowl. Moron, I scowled back internally. I found myself excited to see who Kelly was when she broke free of Zach’s awful influence.

The judge was positioned on her dais and from behind wire-rimmed glasses, she called out, “Hello, officers.” She turned to me. “And you, I presume, are the defendant?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Excellent. Let’s get this show on the road.”

I walked to the defendant’s bench, loosely familiar with the procedure, while Tom and Dylan stood behind me in the public viewing area, though they technically could have qualified as witnesses. The whole ‘justice’ thing was pretty casually conducted in Fallow Springs.

They began the hearing by laying out the grounds of the case — namely, the break-in and subsequent robbery of my bakery, the details of what was stolen and the damages incurred.

After the judge was familiar with the groundwork, she called the first witness, Kelly.

It didn’t take long from there.

Kelly ran through the formal statement she’d given Dylan yesterday at the police station, stating once again that Zach had coerced her into committing the felony, and that she was very, very sorry.

The judge dismissed her and called Zach forward.

He’d only had his butt in the witness seat for a moment when she questioned, “What have you to say for yourself, young man?”

He shrugged, nonchalant.

The judge continued, “A shoulder movement is not a response. I require a verbal reply.”

He stayed silent.

The judge, frustrated, spat out, “The police are fingering you as the man who masterminded the robbery, do you have anything to say about that? I’m compelling you to speak.”

At last, Zach, in a tone as breezy as a summer day, replied, “Yeah. I did it.”

I found myself wishing there would’ve been an audience to gasp. Seemed like a real missed opportunity.

“Is he fucking serious?” I asked Dylan under my breath.

“Some criminals are just idiots,” he offered by way of explanation.

The judge was also confused by the answer. “Are you under any duress to admit your guilt?”

“Nah,” returned Zach. “But Kelly has already testified against me, stupid—”

“Oh hell no,” the judge interjected. “You call this young woman by her proper name or you don’t call her anything at all.”

“Yeah, Zach,” Kelly chimed in from the bench. “You gotta be nice to me.”

The judge shot her a reproachful look, and added, “In my court, people speak when they’re called upon.”

“Oh, sorry,” Kelly muttered. “He’s just such a dick.”

“Language.”

“Right, oops.”

Well, you could put the girl in church clothes and wash the pink hair dye out, but I suppose a teenager is a teenager.

That little aside behind us, the judge’s sentence was delivered swiftly.

“Since it appears the perpetrator of this crime has turned himself in,” she said to the courtroom at large, and turning to me, “I’ll go ahead and tell the insurance company to award you the damage fees.”

I resisted the urge to squeal, but did allow myself to clasp my hands together and dance a little on my toes. What? We were celebrating.

“And you, young man,” she spat at Zach, “are a spectacularly bad criminal. Anything else to say in your defense?”

“I’m chill,” he replied languidly.

The judge looked about ready to lunge over her bench. Instead, she said “Very well, then. We’ll set a second court date for your sentencing, as this was theoretically only intended to be a preliminary hearing. In the meantime…”

This went on for some time, the judge berating Zach, Zach ignoring the judge. But I didn’t care about their little sparring match. I was free.

And more importantly, Dylan was no longer the officer on my case.

He too seemed to realize this during the prolonged spat between judge and criminal as he reached down a hand behind my back, and snaked it around my waist, pulling me in close.

“You,” he whispered into my ear, “are all mine now.”

“And you’re mine,” I said in hushed tones.

He straightened up, and with a grin, mentioned, “I’ve got another little surprise for you.” Dylan turned to the front of the room and interrupted the proceedings. “Ah, Judge?”

“Yes, Officer?” she asked, obviously grateful to be distracted from Zach’s rudeness.

“I think there’s something else you should consider in the damage penalty awarded to Ms. Reynolds.”

“And what’s that?”

“You know the Damascus case, the next big one up on the docket?”

She nodded immediately. “Of course, we’ve all been following it for a year, as you’re well aware.”

“Well,” Dylan continued, “then you’ve heard about the breakthrough with the gun.”

“Naturally. Couldn’t be more pleased, to be frank. Damascus deserves to do hard time.”

Dylan moved forward, saying, “So you’ll be delighted to know that it was actually Ms. Reynolds who located the gun.”

The judge’s eyebrows shot up. “Her?”

I nodded, and Dylan verbally agreed, “Yes. Her.”

“That’s just marvelous,” the judge beamed. “Excellent.”

“I agree. I thought perhaps you might… take that into account… when awarding Ms. Reynolds damages.” He didn’t turn, but looked at me out of the corner of his eyes, amping up my excitement.

The judge’s face transformed with a satisfied little smile. “Hmm, I believe you’re right, Officer.” To me, “The court will be awarding you an additional ten thousand for, ah, being of great assistance.”

I grabbed Dylan’s hand for stability, and he squeezed it. Did I hear that correctly?

Ten thousand?” I squeaked.

“Unless you’d prefer less?”

“No! I mean, no, ten thousand is good.”

“Excellent.” She banged her gavel. “Case concluded.”

It had all happened in a flash. A few days ago, I thought I was being taken to court to fry — or at least, to serve jail time for a crime I didn’t commit.

Now, I was standing hand in hand with the man I was falling in love with, receiving enough money to last me for the next couple of months. It was more than a girl could reasonably handle.

I thanked the judge, the district attorney and Kelly, shot a nasty look at Zach, and left the courthouse with Dylan and Tom, who bid us farewell at the door, explaining that he had to get home to his wife, but was so very, very pleased about how things had worked out. I was relieved that Dylan’s surrogate father seemed to finally like me.

That left just Dylan and me.

“Looks like I don’t have a ride, mind if I get one from you?” he asked casually. “Besides, I’ve got something I’d like to give you.”

“Okay.”

I took his hand once more, and we walked to the car together.

“What is it?” I asked once we were seated. “You’ve already given me enough for a lifetime.”

“This,” he said by way of reply, and leaned close, pulling me into a deep, long kiss.

When he finally pulled away, I looked into his eyes.

“You said you wanted a ride. Would you like it now or back at my place?”

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