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Authors: Adrianne Byrd

BOOK: Defenseless
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She reflected on the night's events and wished that she could have done things differently. She should have forced Laura to come home with her or called the police herself. Then she thought of her careless actions tonight. She didn't remember locking her front door or turning on her security system. She placed herself in danger by speeding down the narrow street, then scolding that handsome man who was only trying to help her. Sonya sat up at that thought.
Why did I use the word
handsome? She remembered the man's short-cropped hair, neatly groomed, while sparkling drops of water caressed his black Adonis features.

“Here we go!” Sharon swept into the room holding a long pink nightshirt with a large fuzzy teddy bear decorating the front.

Sonya jumped up from the sofa, blushing from the vivid picture her mind had painted.

“What's wrong?” Sharon asked.

“Nothing.”

“So why are you blushing?”

“Forget it.”

“Okay,” Sharon said, shaking her head.

Sonya dressed quickly. After she was settled, she went on to tell Sharon of the night's events—except for the near car collision. Sharon listened with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Sonya finished and began to massage the temples of her head. Sharon sat beside her, looking as if she was trying to absorb everything. “This is serious, Sonya,” she said, shaking her head.

“I know. But I have to do something to get Laura out of this mess. I already don't like the fact that she was taken downtown without a lawyer representing her.”

“Don't you have your own team of lawyers?”

“Yes, but they're experienced in tax cases and lawsuits. None of them are experienced in murder cases.”

“Then let me assure you that my brother is good. I know that you've never met him. I wish I knew where I boxed up those pictures at. Anyway, I'm sure you'll like him. And if he takes your case, you can rest easy.”

“If?” Sonya asked, frowning.

“He does have to decide if he feels right about this case. Trust me, he'll do this—if for no other reason than as a favor for me.”

Sonya started massaging her temples again.

“Do you want some aspirin?”

“Please,” she whispered.

Sharon disappeared, then returned with the two aspirin and a small glass of water.

Sonya swallowed the tiny pills and washed them down with the water. “I think I'm ready to go to bed.” She stood up from the sofa. “I remember where the guest room is. You don't have to show me.” Sonya glanced down at her watch. It was 5:00 a.m. She had about one hour to sleep before getting up to meet Sharon's brother. “Oh, by the way.” Sonya stopped halfway down the hallway. “Where is your brother's office and what's his name?”

Sharon smiled, shaking her head. “I forgot to tell you. His office is in Buckhead, not too far from the Lindbergh Station. The building is called Hamilton, Locke and Associates. When you get there, look for the name Dwayne Hamilton.”

Chapter 3

D
wayne shifted the stacks of paper on his desk, searching for the notes on the Graham
vs.
Georgia case. He had waited for his seven o'clock appointment for more than an hour. Now he was running late for the courthouse. Obviously the woman didn't want him to handle her case. Normally, he didn't give his potential clients such leniency on his time, but he was doing this as a favor to his sister. He pressed the intercom button to his secretary. “Miss Deaton, could you please come in here?”

“Yes, sir,” came the syrupy voice through the small speaker.

Carmen Deaton entered the room. “You called?”

“Uh, yes. The Graham case. I can't find my notes.”

“That's because you gave them to me last night to type up.” Carmen left the room, then quickly returned, holding his lost notes.

“You're an angel. Did you ask Byran to meet Mrs.—” He searched for his small notepad.

“Mrs. Durden?”

“Yes, Mrs. Durden.”

“Yes. He said that you'll owe him for this one.”

“Good. Just have him leave everything with you until I get back. I don't know what the story is on why Miss Walters hasn't shown up, but at least the sister will have someone to represent her this morning,” Dwayne said as he grabbed his jacket, briefcase and the notes, then ran out of the office.

He had ten minutes to get to the courthouse, which was twenty minutes away. He scolded himself for waiting so long for Miss Walters. Still running, he glanced down at his watch. It would be a miracle if he made it.

 

Sonya half ran, half walked while looking at the different names on passing doors. The building was huge, she thought. She hoped she could still see Mr. Hamilton. She was already over an hour late. Both she and Sharon had overslept. Turning another corner, she collided into a massive chest that caused her to land on the floor with a thud.

“Oh, excuse me, ma'am,” a deep baritone voice said. A strong hand appeared to help her to her feet.

Sonya accepted the hand angrily. She pushed her hair from her face as she started to give the assailant a piece of her mind. Yet when her eyes crashed with those familiar gray ones, an electrical charge surged throughout her body. She was suddenly aware of how warm her hand felt. Her hand was still enclosed with his. Her eyes studied his neatly manicured nails. She noticed the gold Rolex and gray Armani suit that enhanced his muscular frame. Gorgeous. There was no other word to describe him. Sonya realized that she was staring again and jerked her hand from his.

“Are you all right?” he probed.

Even his voice was perfect, she thought: rich and seductive.

“Yes, I'm fine. Nothing broken this time,” she said, annoyed.

“Well, I see that your manners haven't improved much since our last meeting.”

The sharp rejoinder hurt. “And I see that you're just as boorish!” She watched his thick brows gather close together.

“I assume you didn't track me down to hurl insults at me!”

Sonya dusted off her borrowed navy suit with hard, vicious strokes. “I didn't track you down, your highness. I have an appointment here. But while I'm at it, maybe I should see about pressing charges against someone who demolished my back window.”

“I'll be happy to pay for your window. Had I known how ungrateful your reckless-driving butt would be, I wouldn't have bothered.”

Sonya's cheeks colored deep red. “I don't need your damn money!” she exploded. “In fact, I'd prefer that I never see you again!”

Dwayne tipped his head and said, “Your wish is my command.”

Sonya watched the stiff back of the most arrogant man she had ever met. She turned down the opposite hallway, still angry that she allowed him to upset her so much.

“Ma'am, may I help you?” asked the secretary.

“Yes, I'm here to see a Dwayne Hamilton,” Sonya said in her best professional voice.

The secretary gave a beautiful smile, which sparked a little envy in Sonya's eyes—even though she knew the secretary's long, silky, straight hair was a weave, and the flashy red fingernails were pure acrylic.

“I'm sorry. You just missed him. May I take your name?”

Sonya dispensed a frustrated sigh. Because she was busy arguing with that no-account cad, she'd missed Mr. Hamilton. “Do you know when he'll be back? It's urgent that I speak with him.”

Carmen smiled and glanced down at a copy of Mr. Hamilton's schedule. “He's busy most of the day, Miss…”

“Walters.”

“Oh, Miss Walters.” The secretary perked up, recognizing the name. “Mr. Hamilton waited for you. Would you like to set another appointment?”

Sonya cursed herself again for oversleeping. “When's the next available appointment?”

Carmen flipped through the tightly scheduled book. “The next available date I have is Wednesday at nine o'clock.”

“Wednesday? That's almost a week away!” Sonya's voice thundered.

“I'm sorry, Miss Walters, but Mr. Hamilton is a very busy man.”

Sonya rolled her eyes, annoyed with the pretty woman. “Are you absolutely sure there are no earlier appointments? This matter can't wait a week.”

Carmen checked her schedule book again. “I'm sorry, but I don't have anything available.”

Before Sonya could say anything else, the secretary's phone rang. She promptly held up a slender finger and answered the phone.

“Hamilton, Locke and Associates—Dwayne Hamilton's office. Yes, Mr. Hernandez. Okay, I'll let him know. Thank you. Goodbye.” She hung up the phone and smiled at Sonya. “You're in luck. Mr. Hernandez canceled his four o'clock meeting. Do you want me to pencil you in?”

Sonya squared her shoulders and gave a tight smile. “Yes.”

“All right, Miss Walters, we'll see you at four.”

Sonya nodded and walked away. She knew she'd behaved rudely. After all, the secretary was just doing her job. By the time Sonya reached the elevator, she was ashamed of her behavior. Right now she wanted to go down to the police station and talk with Laura. Maybe she would get some answers as to what really happened last night. She stepped out into the scorching Georgia sun and put on her sunglasses. Georgia in the summertime was a very peculiar thing. There was no trace of the record rainfall from last night. It was just hot, humid weather.

She walked to her car and frowned at the missing window as she got in. He thought she was tracking him down. Of all the conceited things she had ever heard. It didn't matter. With a little hope, she wouldn't have to see him again.

Sonya arrived at the Atlanta police station in record time. She had no problem getting to the visitation room, where she sat in a small wooden chair, listening to the sobbing families around her.

When Laura walked in, dressed in a dingy blue gown, Sonya stood. Their eyes locked, and a lone tear trailed down Sonya's face. Obviously Laura hadn't slept the previous night. Her dark brown hair looked dry and matted. Her eyes, circled by puffy bags, told she had been crying. Her soft brown eyes sat in a backdrop of crimson red.

Sonya sat in her chair and waited for Laura to take her seat. Both reached for the phone simultaneously.

“How are you feeling?” Sonya's voice cracked. A sense of helplessness overwhelmed her. Never in her life did she imagine having to see her baby sister this way. After years of scolding Laura over her many abusive relationships, she could never get her to see things differently. Laura would accuse Sonya constantly of being jealous of her. Curtis wasn't the only man who had abused her sister. There were scores of men that dated back to when they were in high school. Sonya had nursed plenty of broken noses and busted lips in her lifetime.

Sonya placed her hand against the plastic shield that divided them, and Laura mimicked her actions. What she wouldn't give to be able to pull Laura into her arms and comfort her.

“I'm doing all right, considering,” Laura answered with a raspy voice.

More tears flowed down Sonya's face. “Laura, honey. What happened?”

Laura shook her head as if she didn't have an answer to give. “I only remember bits and pieces. After you left, Curtis turned cold toward me again. He demanded that I finish cleaning up the house. So I did. Then he was upset that it was after ten o'clock, and he hadn't had his supper yet. So I threw on some instant mashed potatoes and fried him a steak.” Laura paused and wiped the tears streaming down her face.

“I put his plate on the table and went to clean up the kitchen. The next thing I knew, I was being whacked against the back of my head.” Laura covered her mouth with her trembling hand.

“Go on,” Sonya urged.

“He said that his steak was too rare and that I knew better….”

 

“What do I have to do to get you to do things right around here? You know I can't eat this garbage,” Curtis shouted.

Laura crawled away, still holding the back of her head. She watched in terror as her husband stormed toward her again. “I'll cook it some more,” she replied weakly.

“Forget it. I'll starve waiting for you to do anything right! I don't know why I keep putting up with you!”

“I'm sorry—”

“You're sorry. Is that all you can say?”

He was going to hit her again. She could tell by the tiny muscles that twitched along his jawline. She tried to run away, but a blow landed on her right cheek. Laura flew onto the small kitchen table, where utensils and butcher knives were kept. When he came toward her again, her hands fell on a knife lying beside her. When he reached to haul her up, she plunged a ten-inch blade into his right shoulder.

A powerful roar erupted from Curtis as he dropped her back onto the floor. He looked at his wounded shoulder. Disbelief replaced the rage on his face. “You bitch!”

Laura knew that she had gone too far and tried again to get up from the floor. But Curtis recovered quickly and jerked her back to him. The next thing Laura felt was Curtis's rock-hard fist slamming against her jaw….

 

“Then everything went black,” Laura finished, looking into Sonya's eyes, which were as red as her own.

“So you don't actually remember killing him?” Sonya asked, confused.

“No, but I do remember stabbing him. When I came to, Curtis was lying beside me in a pool of blood. The knife I used still pierced through his chest.” Laura broke down and let her tears flood her face.

Sonya watched her sister's body tremble from the heart-wrenching sobs. Her feeling of helplessness returned.

“Laura, honey, I'm going to try my best to get you out of here. I'm looking for a good lawyer to represent you. I have an appointment today with Sharon's brother at four. Meanwhile, I don't want you answering any more questions, understand?”

Laura nodded her head in acknowledgment. “Isn't Mr. Locke going to represent me?”

“Who?”

“Mr. Locke. He works for…Hamilton, Locke and Associates.”

Sonya's shoulders slumped in relief. At least someone was sent this morning.

Sonya watched the uncertainty in Laura's eyes. She feared that her sister would see the same emotion reflected in her own, so she smiled weakly. “I'll get you out of here, I promise.”

Laura forced a smile and stood to leave when an officer approached her, signaling that their time was up.

Sonya stood and waved at her sister's retreating back.

When Laura was gone, she dropped her face into the palms of her hands and wept. At the sound of heavy footsteps stopping behind her, she tried to dry her eyes.

“Miss Walters,” a familiar husky voice said.

Sonya slipped her sunglasses back on. Turning around, she faced Sergeant Freeman.

“Sergeant,” Sonya said, showing no evidence of her troubled emotions.

“I see you remember me,” he said, unsmiling.

“I remember you.”

“Good, I was hoping we could have that talk now.”

“I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood for talking,” she answered, stepping past his rigid figure.

“I thought that you wanted to help your sister,” he patronized.

Sonya turned abruptly on her heels and glared at the annoying officer. She was sure that he could feel her heated gaze when she witnessed him shifting nervously on his feet. “Don't you dare cast judgment on me,” she half shouted. “My sister doesn't deserve to be in this damn jail, and you know it. Just look at her face. Surely you're not blind to those bruises plastered there. That man was an animal and—”

The officer's lips curved into a small smile. “And?”

Sonya squared her shoulders. “Very clever, Sergeant Freeman. I guess this is the part where I crucify my sister. Nice try. If there's anything else you want to ask me, I'm sure you know the proper procedure to get me in here for questioning.” Sonya spun around and hurried out of the crowded police station. She made it to her car before her tears resurfaced. After a long moment, she calmed down.
I have to be strong.
Glancing down at her watch, she realized that she had just enough time to make it to Mick's, where she was to have a late lunch with Sharon.

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