Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) (16 page)

Matt frowned. “Unless there’s a photograph
of a perpetrator standing over a body, knife in hand screaming ‘I did it, your
honour,’ I don’t know how we can ever convict anyone based on that premise. Of
course we can’t be sure a hundred percent. But all the facts point to her
knowing that James was going to come through that door, like her leaving off
the chain. It doesn’t make sense. She wanted him to come into the house so she
could attack him and then scream self-defence.”

“I have to say I agree with Matt,” Tom
said, somewhat reluctantly. “But to be honest, I don’t think you disagree with
the facts. I think the problem lies more in that you can’t find it in your
heart to say Sarah is guilty when you feel you understand what she has been
going through.”

He paused for a moment to let his words
sink in. Honey stared at the table. He was right, of course.

“And that, really, is a different issue,”
he continued. “We’re here to decide whether she knowingly attacked this man
with the intention of harming him. We aren’t here to debate whether James Hill
deserved what he got. Or whether Sarah was justified in doing what she did.
Because if that was the case, I’m sure the vote would look very different. But
the judge instructed us to leave our emotions outside of the jury room. He said
that because he wanted us to look at the facts. And I think maybe, my dear, you
need to remove yourself from the emotions of this case and try to do that.”

Honey clenched her fingers tightly in her
lap. He was right—of course he was right. She didn’t want to convict Sarah
because she knew how desperate the woman must have felt. She hated James Hill,
his smug superior look, his obvious belief the jury would find Sarah guilty.
She wanted to punish him for what he’d done to Sarah by setting her free, and
in doing so send a message to other men that it wasn’t okay to treat women in
this way, and if they did, they wouldn’t get away with it.

But she couldn’t do that. A person couldn’t
take the law into their own hands, no matter what had been done to them. That
wasn’t justice—it was revenge, and as good as revenge may feel, society
couldn’t have everyone running around being their own judge and jury.

Did she truly believe Sarah was innocent?
Deep her heart, Honey didn’t. Sarah hadn’t looked terrified in the dock—she’d
only looked at James with love in her eyes. If the woman had been so terrified
of her ex coming into her home, she would have put the chain across and pushed
a chair against the handle. Or moved out to live with a friend. She probably
wanted James to come back to her. Maybe, when he’d let himself in, she’d
started by pleading with him to come back before she attacked him. Or maybe her
hatred had been such that she’d gone straight for him.

Whichever, she was most likely guilty, and
Honey couldn’t fight that any longer. She’d wanted to be Henry Fonda in
Twelve
Angry Men
and convince everyone to change their view to her own, but that
wasn’t going to happen.

She nodded at Tom.

“Let’s take another vote,” Tom said
quietly. “Please raise your hand if you think Sarah Green is guilty.”

Twelve hands rose.

Tom sighed and pushed himself to his feet.
“I’ll let the court assistant know.”

Within minutes they were filing back to the
courtroom. Honey had read
To Kill A Mockingbird
as a student and could
still remember Harper Lee’s assurance that a jury whose members had voted
guilty refused to look at the defendant as they came into the courtroom. She
risked a glance along the jury box as they took their seats—not one of them
glanced in Sarah’s direction.

The judge asked Tom if they had come to a
verdict—Tom said yes, and delivered the guilty result. Only then did Honey
glance up. Sarah’s shoulders had sagged and tears ran down her face.

Honey closed her eyes.

It took only minutes for the case to round
up. The judge announced he would deliver the sentence at a later date and they
were free to go.

Honey walked quickly from the courtroom,
too emotional to talk to anyone. She almost ran to her car and got in, clipped
the seatbelt and then drove hurriedly away.

The tears came as she left the town. Floods
of them, and eventually she pulled over and leaned on the steering wheel,
sobbing into her hands. She’d done the right thing. She was just over emotional
because it had been her mother’s anniversary, and because Dex was nervous about
the wedding and that in turn was making her nervous.

But deep down, she knew it was more than
that. She was probably the only one in that courtroom who understood what had
driven Sarah to pick up that knife. If she hadn’t voted guilty, maybe a new
jury would have voted her innocent. But Sarah would never know how Honey had
tied herself in knots over the case. Would never know how much it would haunt
her.

After a while, the intense emotion abated,
leaving her exhausted and depressed. She sat back in the seat and looked out at
the rain-soaked landscape.

At that moment, the clouds parted and let
through a flash of sunlight, and in the fields something glinted, dazzling her.
She caught her breath, reminded vividly of the moment in the café when the
Matariki
sign had done the same thing.

“Hey, Mum,” she whispered, knowing it was
nonsense, unable to stop herself all the same. A swift wave of grief and
longing swept over her, then vanished. Her mother would always be with her, in her
heart and memories. In the children she would carry, put there by Dex, the man
she was going to marry.

It had been an emotional week. It wasn’t
surprising she was feeling the strain, but she shouldn’t let it get to her so
much. She wasn’t solely responsible for Sarah Green’s conviction. Eleven others
had been certain, and she’d conceded because that’s what happened in a
democracy—the minority bowed to the majority. She’d done her best to make her
point, but she shouldn’t blame herself for not changing everyone’s mind.

She started the car, tired but a little
calmer. The court case had finished and now she could put it behind her. She
had a whole day off on Friday, with her hen night in the evening, where she’d
be going out with her sisters and friends for a few drinks in town. She really
had nothing to worry about.

She tried to concentrate on positive
thoughts as she drove home, and turned on the radio to sing to a few tunes,
attempting to lift her spirits. She was relieved to finally get home though,
and turned into the drive, knowing most of her sisters and her father would be
at the shop. Lily’s car was there, but that didn’t surprise her—Lily often came
home after the busy lunchtime rush to paint.

As she approached the house, though, she
saw a strange car out the front. She pulled up alongside it and got out,
frowning. One of Lily’s friends?

She collected her handbag, got out and went
over to the house. Letting herself in, she called out, “Lily?”

“In here,” Lily called back.

Honey went into the living room and
stopped. Lily had been sitting on the sofa but now stood, twisting her hands.
“Hi, Honey.”

Honey glanced at her, saw her nerves and
looked at the woman still sitting in the armchair. She appeared about Honey’s
own height, slim, with glossy dark hair that fell to her shoulders. Her makeup,
though heavy, was expertly applied, her lips outlined in dark red. She wore
tight jeans and a scarlet blouse, undone one button too far for modesty. She
looked beautiful and exotic, and she held herself with the confidence of
someone who knew that the opposite sex found them attractive.

“This is Cate, one of Dex’s old friends
who’s come up for the wedding,” Lily said, her voice so bright that Honey could
tell she was scared.

“Cate,” Honey said flatly. “You mean
Cathryn.”

The woman’s lips curved. “That may have
been a slight fib.” She sent an apologetic glance to a panicky Lily. “Sorry,
sweetie.”

“She said you’d asked her to meet you here,”
Lily said, the colour fading from her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Honey said, although it wasn’t.
But she couldn’t blame Lily—the woman was clearly skilled at manipulating
people to do what she wanted. “Do me a favour, Lily? Give Koru a ring, eh? Let
him know I got home okay?” She caught Lily’s gaze. Her sister gave a slight nod
and scurried from the room.

The woman ran her gaze down Honey
thoughtfully. “So you’re the one Dex is marrying?”

“Yes,” Honey said, not missing the jealousy
that lit the woman’s eyes at her answer. Her first thought, crazily, was that
she hoped the other woman couldn’t tell she’d been crying. Crying was a sign of
weakness, and after all the hassle in the courtroom, the last thing Honey felt
in the mood to show at that moment was vulnerability.

Refusing to wipe under her eyes, she forced
herself not to take an automatic step back and stood her ground. “I think you
should leave,” she said.

Cathryn made no sign of getting up. “But I
haven’t finished my tea,” she protested, sipping from the cup Lily must have
made for her. “Please, come and sit down.”

Conscious that she could hardly grab the
woman and haul her out, Honey remained where she was. Her heart pounded so hard
she wouldn’t have been surprised if it had leapt out of her chest and boinged
over to splat the woman in the face. She had to calm down or she’d end up
passing out.

She walked over to the breakfast bar and
placed her handbag there, then leaned against the bar, reminding herself how
Dex had kissed her there and protested he loved her only the night before.
“What do you want?”

Cathryn surveyed her, eerily calm. “I
wanted to see what the competition was like.” Her gaze rested on Honey’s curves
and she raised an eyebrow. “He certainly likes them plumper than he used to.
Still, tastes change, I guess.”

Refusing to rise to the insult and fighting
an urge to cover her stomach with her hands, Honey just raised an eyebrow. “Competition?
That implies a contest, that there’s a rivalry between us. That we’re both
competing for the affections of the same man. I hardly think that’s the case,
do you? Didn’t he leave you at the altar? Or am I mistaken?”

Cathryn’s lips curved with a smug,
triumphant smile. “Oh…he hasn’t told you.” Honey refused to ask the question,
but Cathryn answered her as if she had spoken. “We went for coffee on Monday.”

Even though her heart seemed to stutter to
a halt, Honey just waved a hand. “Goodness. Dex went out for coffee with
someone. What a shock. Call the tabloids.”

“A coffee that he clearly didn’t want to tell
you about.”

“I don’t expect him to account for every
minute of his day.” But Honey’s throat tightened. He hadn’t told her he’d seen
Cathryn. Why hadn’t he told her?

“Well, and also having coffee with your ex-girlfriend
isn’t the best thing to tell your fiancée.” Cathryn’s eyes glinted. “Especially
when it ended with a kiss.”

Honey held her breath.

It wasn’t true. The woman was a born liar
and had tried to manipulate Dex into marrying her by saying she was pregnant.
She could hardly be trusted. She was a scheming bitch who’d turned up to ruin
Dex’s wedding because he’d hurt her and left her.

And yet…Monday. Honey’s brain worked
furiously. It made sense.

That
was why
he’d been weird, and why he hadn’t reacted to her at first last night—why she’d
been so certain he was going to call off the wedding. She’d been right. He
had
been having second thoughts.

So…why had he not finished it then? If it
was true and he had—for whatever reason—kissed Cathryn, if he’d suddenly
realised it was Cathryn he really loved and he’d decided he couldn’t get
married, why had he not said so? She’d given him the opportunity, but in spite
of his reticence, he hadn’t looked cold. Only sad. And scared.

He might have seen Cathryn, might even have
kissed her, but he loved Honey. That had been obvious the night before. That
hadn’t changed. He obviously hadn’t slept with the woman because she would
definitely have thrown that in Honey’s face. It must have been a brief kiss, a fleeting
weakness. Was she going to throw away her future because of a moment’s
stupidity on his part?

Starting to grow dizzy and realising she
was still holding her breath, she let it out slowly. For a moment she felt as
if she were teetering on the edge of a precipice. One inch further and she
would topple to her doom, one inch back and she would be safe. Which way would
she fall?

Turning, taking her time, she walked into
the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Then she walked slowly back to
lean against the bar. She sipped the water, keeping her gaze fixed on an
interested Cathryn. Then she placed the glass on the counter.

“So?” she said.

Cathryn blinked and gave an incredulous
laugh. “Jeez, you’re a cold one. You heard what I said, right? He kissed me.
And I don’t just mean a peck on the cheek. He thrust his tongue so far in my
mouth he could have tasted my tonsils.”

Trying extremely hard not to vomit at the
thought of Dex’s mouth kissing those scarlet lips, Honey refused to react. “Yes,
I heard you. And now you’ve announced your little revelation, I think you
should go.”