Accused (Troubled Boys, Strong Men #1) Page 3

  “Is that true, son? Do you want your coach present at the proceedings?”

  Travis nodded and gave a nervous, “Yes, sir.”

  “Fine, we’ll proceed then.” He glanced at the file once again. “I see the charge is first degree murder. What is the State’s position?”

  Jillian squeezed her eyes closed to keep the freefall of emotions swirling inside at bay. Breathe. Think. Breathe. She needed to be strong for Travis.

  “I’d like to set a date for trial, Your Honor.”

  “And Counsel, what is your position?”

  Reggie whispered to Elliot Stern before he turned to look at her, then pulled Travis to a standing position. “We’d like to enter a plea of not guilty and request my client be sent home with a monitor.”

  “Absolutely not.” The District Attorney stood to voice his objection. “I realize there is no bail requirement for juveniles, but to let this young man out on a monitor, given the heinous nature of the crime, is preposterous.”

  Every remark he made seemed to take chunks of her flesh. To hear those words about her son seemed incomprehensible.

  The judge nodded his head and focused his attention on Travis. “You understand the State is considering adult charges against you due to the nature of the crime? And the fact that you are not new to the system?”

  “Yes, we understand the charges,” Reggie responded.

  “I’d like to hear from the boy, please.”

  Travis’ whole body seemed to shake as he leveraged his weight on the table with his hands and stood. He looked so alone. So lost. So hopelessly out of his element. “I’m not guilty, sir.” His voice trembled and he held back tears.

  While she craved to put her arm around him, hold on indefinitely and end this nightmare, that fantasy wouldn’t happen. Instead she could only watch from a distance and hope her overriding love could somehow erase the terror quaking through his body.

  Was it her imagination or did Dr. Stern shift away from Travis? If she couldn’t offer her son comfort, shouldn’t his therapist be able to, or was that one of those ‘boundary issues’ the doctor loved to chastise her about?

  “Speak up, young man. Do you understand the seriousness of what you’ve been charged with?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Well and good then. We’ll set a trial date.” He glanced up from his paperwork at the attorneys. “Do you have your calendars, gentlemen?” When they nodded, he continued, “I’d like to get this over as quickly as possible. What does October look like for you two?”

  “Your Honor, I don’t have a free date until the end of November.” Reggie shrugged. “I know that’s tough because it’s holiday season.”

  “Mr. Saunders, do you expect your client to sit in juvenile hall all that time because you can’t clear your calendar?”

  “It’s unavoidable, Your Honor.”

  Jillian chewed her lip to keep from speaking. If she’d known Reggie would drag his heels, she would have already found somebody else. The last thing she wanted was for Travis to linger in jail unnecessarily. Of course, if they had more time, they could explore options. But she dreaded thinking about being without him for all that time.

  “December 1.” The judge banged the gavel. “I would expect the trial to last approximately a week so clear your calendars accordingly.” He stood and returned to his chambers.

  More than three months. How could she bear to be separated from him for all that time?

  She stood and waited for the moment when she might have a chance to hold her son and hug him. Seconds later, he turned to face her, tears glistening in his eyes.

  “Mom.” He sounded so young, like the scared child she remembered going off to kindergarten that September morning many years ago.

  She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, relishing his familiar feel. “Travis, I love you,” she whispered in his ear. She corralled an errant chunk of hair behind his ear.

  “I love you too, Mom.” He turned away from her. “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.” His words didn’t carry much conviction as he had that scared-as-hell look in his eyes. He hugged her again and whispered in her ear, “Don’t ask Reggie to do it, but find Lexie.” Before she could ask any questions, he shuffled away, stopping for a second to talk to his coach, then disappearing into the back hallway.

  Screams tore inside her throat itching for release. He’s a good boy. Let him come home. The mantra cycled through her mind until she thought she might go insane. She wanted to rail at Reggie. At Dr. Stern. At Archie. Anybody. And she would if she thought it would make this whole thing go away.

  Dr. Stern grasped her hand. “I’m sorry. I truly didn’t see this coming with Travis. He was doing so much better. Why don’t you call and make an appointment so we can talk about some things.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned away. “I need to get back to the office.”

  Jillian didn’t really listen. She could only think about how he hadn’t done shit to support her son and more than likely she’d be charged for the hour he spent in court. Cynical, but true.

  Reggie stopped in front of her. “I should have given you a heads up, but I think the delay will help our case. It will allow me to do some investigation.”

  She felt a break in the fog that surrounded her. “What are you going to investigate? Do you have a staff of private detectives to look into who really did this?”

  He gave her a grin that was meant to assure but didn’t even come close. He didn’t believe in Travis. She didn’t see a spot of compassion in his eye. “No, but I do have a few names I can supply you with. Their cost would be additional to my fee, of course.”

  She nodded, afraid of what she might say if she spoke. Don’t tell Reggie. Find Lexie. Travis’ instructions tumbled about her brain.

  “I know this is hard for you, but we’ll get through this.” He grasped her hand and squeezed.

  “Hard for me?” Her voice escalated with each word as she yanked her hand free. “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

  “You’re emotional. I understand.”

  “Don’t patronize me. Of course I’m emotional. But more than that, I’m pissed.” Jillian struggled to keep her cool but was losing the battle. Suddenly it was as if everything pounded down on her at once: Archie’s infidelity, the divorce, backstabbing friends, the terror in Travis’ eyes...

  “I’m not the bad guy here.” Reggie placed his hands on his chest in an innocent gesture that didn’t ring true, especially with that half-smile/smirk on his face.

  “Are you sure about that?” She turned and stalked out the door, uncertain how long she could keep it together if she remained in that courtroom.

  Somehow she’d managed to hold onto a sliver of fragile hope over the last couple of days, but now the enormity of the situation crushed her spirit. Surely she would go stark raving mad from the pressure.

  She tumbled into an open elevator and leaned against the back wall. Tears rolled down her cheeks and sobs hiccupped through her chest. Catching her breath seemed like a formidable task with depleting energy.

  “Are you all right?” The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t raise her eyes to see who it came from. “Let me give you a ride home. We can come back later for your car when you’re feeling better.”

  She raised her head. “You’re...hiccup...Coach....”

  “Sam. I’d be happy to give you a ride. You’ve had a rough morning.”

  For some reason, she couldn’t get her head around why he’d offer her a ride. Yes, she was a mess. Yes, she couldn’t string more than two words together coherently. “I’m fine.”

  “Forgive me for saying this, but you look like you might pass out any second.”

  She wanted to say something flippant like, ‘Having a son accused of murder would do that to any gal’ but couldn’t manage to get out the words. Instead, she repeated the one word she could. “Fine.”

  “Do you remember where you parked your car? I’ll walk you there.”

 
Her car. Where had she parked? For the life of her, she couldn’t recall even pulling into the parking garage. Jillian wiped the tears that continued to roll down her cheeks and struggled to extract keys from her purse. “I’ll hit…,” she sucked in a breath and tried to compose herself, “the panic button.”

  “Before you do that, what level did you park on?”

  Oh God. She couldn’t fall apart the way she had when her parents died. Travis needed her. Finally, she remembered. “Three. Level three.” Maybe she hadn’t slipped down the slippery slope to crazy after all.

  “We’re on Level four, so let’s go...elevator or stairs?”

  “Stairs.” She needed to keep moving. She needed to get home and think. Waiting for an elevator would only delay things.

  He gingerly held her elbow as they walked down the flight of stairs. He pushed on the door, then held it open. “What kind of car do you have?”

  “BMW. Black.”

  “That narrows it down to about half the cars in the parking lot.” He emitted a nervous chuckle. “Good thing you didn’t say Lexus or we might be here all day.”

  She shook her head. “I need a...” At risk of hyperventilating, she bent over and tried to steady her breathing. She couldn’t suck air into her lungs. It had been years since ....

  He raised her head then grasped her hands. “Look at me.” Once she obeyed, he continued, “You’re going to be okay.” He placed her hand on his chest. “Breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out.”

  Tears still streamed down her cheeks, but she started to feel better as she synched her breathing with his. Her legs were wobbly, but at least she didn’t fear passing out any second. Then again, maybe it was his firm hold on her arm that kept her upright.

  “Oh God, what’s wrong with me?”

  “Shock. Plus a crapload of stuff that’s too scary to even think about.”

  An embarrassed flush crept along her skin. A near stranger had helped her through what had been, in the past, an all-too-familiar panic attack. “I apologize. It’s not like me to be so fragile.” At least not for a very long time.

  “You’re entitled. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “Well, thank you. I’m much better now.” Somehow she managed a smile. “I parked in row C. That’s me over there.” She pointed to her car and hit the remote. The lights blinked in response.

  “Glad you’re feeling better.” He held open the car door as she shuffled inside. “Call if you need anything.” He handed her a card with his number and held the frame of the door with his hands. “For the record, I believe Travis is innocent.”

  Without another word, he walked away. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Jillian felt a sense of hope. Uncertain of exactly how she’d do it, she’d prove her son’s innocence if it was the last thing she did. There was no other way.

  Chapter Four

  Travis lay back in his bunk with his hands behind his head and tried not to think the worst. Why had he agreed to meet Lexie that night? Because he was a dumb ass. She’d begged him and he’d felt sorry for her.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  He should have known better. His mom had pleaded with him to steer clear of Lexie. But had he listened? Hell no.

  Why had he caved? He wasn’t bored as he’d been for the first couple of months at the new house. In fact, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged. He’d been having a great time hanging with the football team. They’d been sitting around watching game films on Coach’s big screen TV, getting ready for their first game the following week and eating the best spaghetti and meatballs he’d ever tasted when Lexie called. And now he was going to probably miss this whole season, and maybe every season, all because of his dumb ass decision.

  Dr. Stern said he could try hypnosis on him to see if any of the memories from that night would come back. Travis wasn’t sure. Maybe he didn’t want to know what happened that night. Besides, Lexie had told him once that Dr. Stern had hypnotized her and she’d freaked out afterward. Right now he had more than enough to freak out about without any additional help from the doctor.

  A while ago, when he’d first gotten into trouble for running away and using drugs, he’d been forced by the judge to meet with Dr. Stern. He sure was pissed at the time, especially since his family life was going to hell.

  His mother and father were fighting non-stop, with his dad bringing up shit about grandparents Travis never knew that made his mom cry. His mom was there for him as always, but she’d seemed distracted and hadn’t even gone into her art studio in like forever, which made him nervous. She loved to paint, and most days she’d be in her studio for hours. Travis felt that he’d screwed up her happiness with his stupid decisions.

  His asshole father had refused to talk to him and hadn’t even bothered to show up at court. Of course his mom had made excuses, but he could see in her eyes she was only covering up for his dad. Then the idiot shrink wanted to get up in his head to ‘discover the source of his anger.’

  Travis wanted to shout , “Have you met my dad?” All the doc had to do was spend ten minutes in a room alone with the great Archie Beckett. It wouldn’t take a medical degree to discover that Archie loved himself more than anybody or anything else in the world.

  Travis had toughed it out with Dr. Stern mainly because the judge threatened to send him back to juvie if he didn’t. It was in the group therapy sessions at his office that he’d met Lexie. With purple streaks in her blonde hair and a pissed off attitude to match, she had intrigued Travis. He could appreciate somebody else who didn’t fit the mold of a Beverly Hills teenager.

  She didn’t pull punches. She didn’t dress in designer clothes, and even had a couple of tattoos and piercings. She wasn’t at all like those preppy girls at his high school. And, above all, she wasn’t fake.

  But now she was missing. And he had to rely on his mom to find her.

  ***

  Jillian parked the car in the driveway of her home and tried to compose herself. She’d cried all the way home. Silent tears, for the most part, instead of gut wrenching sobs, which made her believe she hadn’t catapulted to eerily familiar territory. However, she still felt shaken as well as bone weary tired.

  Finally she regulated her breathing and gathered the strength to open the car door. She turned in the seat so that she could plant her heels on the cement. With one last push, she exited and came to a standing position. Inching her way towards the house, utilizing the car for support, she stopped when she heard a vehicle pull into the driveway.

  Although he might have been trying to be subtle, she’d spotted Coach Carter’s red Ford pickup behind her most of the way home. He seemed sweet and genuine and was easy on the eyes as well. Towering above her, he had to be six feet four or five, with dark hair and brown eyes and a football player’s cut physique.

  Based on her behavior after court, he probably thought she should have been headed to the loony bin by now. Instead, he’d been patient and kind.

  She turned with a forced smile on her face, for some reason looking forward to seeing him but at the same time hoping to convince him she really was all right. Instead of a red pickup, however, it was Archie’s cream-colored Lexus convertible. A blonde female at least ten years younger than Jillian sat in the passenger seat.

  Shit.

  Straightening her back and putting on sunglasses to hide the evidence of tears, she gave him her best pissed off expression. “You missed court,” she huffed. Anger worked well as a distraction. “Wouldn’t want a little thing like your son’s future to interfere with some hot new starlet you’re banging.”

  “Jillian,” he sneered. “Pleasant as always I see.”

  She ground her teeth. “What do you want?”

  “You weren’t answering my calls.”

  “Gee, do you think that’s because the last time we talked you were about as helpful as an ice cube in Alaska?” The anger popping through her system felt so much better than the helpless terror that had encased he
r earlier.

  “I told you before that Travis made his own mess and he needs to clean it up himself.”

  “Whatever.” Placing her hands on her hips, she gave him her best snarl. “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to let you know I’ll be out of town for the next couple of weeks on a movie shoot.”

  “That’s great. Just fuckin’ great.” Disgust bubbled through her. She was used to him disappointing her by now. But why was it so easy for him to dismiss his own flesh and blood?

  Archie made snap judgments about others based on their mistakes and liked to throw their so-called inadequacies back in their faces. He’d done this time and time again with Jillian, her parents and Travis. There was no grey area in the Archie Beckett handbook. Family meant diddly to him.

  She knew without a doubt her parents would have been by her side at this very moment. They were always about love and support despite their shortcomings. It wasn’t magical thinking as Archie would have had her believe during many of their arguments. It was something she felt in her soul.

  “It’s business. It’s what keeps the support payments coming.”

  His snide remark brought her back into focus. “Knock it off. You know the money you give me is a mere pittance in comparison to what you make. Your hotshot lawyer made the judge believe you were near destitute. What a crock of shit.”

  “That’s water under the bridge, isn’t it?”

  Archie could push her buttons faster than anybody. Zero to sixty in ten seconds flat. Jillian sucked in a breath and struggled to regain her composure. Fighting with him was doing nothing but giving him the upper hand.

  But as the anger dissipated a morose sense of foreboding pinged her gut and shock-waved through her body. “I had hoped you’d show up for the hearing.” A thought simmered inside for a few seconds before it exploded out of her. “You think he did it. You honestly think our son is a murderer.”

  “This unconditional love bull crap you profess is just that,” he huffed. “You can’t keep making excuses for him. If he did the crime, he—”