The Choice (49 page)

“Mr. Abernathy,” the judge said. “Who else are you going to call to testify in support of your motion?”

“I intend to call Ms. Lincoln for purposes of cross-examination as well as Ms. Shania Dawkins, the regional director for the petitioner.”

“Where is the student?”

“In school, Your Honor.”

The judge looked down from the bench at Dusty.

“Don't you think it would helpful to hear from the party whose rights are in issue today?”

“Normally, it would. However, there is a petition filed in juvenile court in Rutland alleging that Ms. Alverez is mentally incompetent.”

“Who filed that petition?”

“I did. The goal is to appoint a guardian who can assist Ms. Alverez in making the best decision about her pregnancy.”

“Has there been a hearing on that petition?”

“No, sir. But given the student's mental limitations, her testimony would not be probative on the issues before the court. She is easily influenced and swayed by whoever happens to be talking to her at the moment.”

Sandy grunted in agreement.

“And she barely speaks English,” Dusty finished.

“I assume you've interviewed Ms. Alverez as the foundation for making that representation to the court,” the judge said.

“Uh, no, sir. I'm relying on Ms. Ramsey's evaluation. You heard her qualifications at the beginning of her testimony and—”

“I'm charged with deciding this important issue,” the judge interrupted. “When I'm the trier of fact, I want all potentially relevant evidence before me. You can call any witnesses you like, but I'm not going to consider granting your motion until I have an opportunity to hear from and observe Ms. Alverez for myself. If needed, I'll bring in a translator.”

Sandy saw Dusty swallow.

“May I have a moment with my clients?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Dusty huddled with Carol and Ms. Dawkins. Sandy leaned over to Jeremy.

“What's going to happen?” she whispered.

“He's going to ask for a continuance.”

“You mean, we'll have to come back and do this—”

Before Sandy could complete her question, Dusty spoke.

“Your Honor, we request a continuance of the hearing so we can bring Ms. Alverez before you. Because of the time-sensitive nature of the issue, we ask the court to reschedule the hearing as soon as practicable.”

“Granted,” the judge said. “I'll instruct the clerk to place this matter back on a hearing calendar within ten days.”

The judge left the courtroom. Jeremy began stacking up his papers and putting them in his briefcase. He closed his laptop. Sandy was dazed.

“Ready?” he asked her.

As they left the courtroom, Dusty, Carol, and Dawkins followed them. Jeremy held the door open for Sandy, then allowed the others to pass by. They ended up in a silent cluster in front of the elevators. The elevator door opened. Sandy wanted to wait, but Jeremy stepped forward and held the door open so everyone could get on. Sandy ended up standing between Jeremy and Dusty. She cut her eyes from side to side. The two men seemed relaxed and unaffected by what had happened in the courtroom. Sandy's stomach was twisted into a massive knot. As they neared the ground floor, Dustin turned to Carol and Dawkins.

“Shania, I'll call you later,” he said. “Thanks for giving Carol a ride back to the center.”

When the elevator door opened, Sandy breathed a sigh of relief. Carol and Shania turned right; Dusty, Jeremy, and Sandy turned left.

“Are you in the parking deck?” Jeremy asked the other lawyer.

“Yes. Shania parked in a surface lot.”

“Do you have time for lunch?” Jeremy asked. “I don't have to be back in Tryon until four.”

Sandy almost fainted.

“Yeah, I thought we'd be spending more time with Judge Tompkins.”

Speechless, Sandy fell back half a step. Jeremy and Dusty moved closer together.

“There's a nice lunch spot that's between here and my office. It isn't out of the way for you either.”

“Sandy, is that okay with you?” Jeremy asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“I guess so,” she managed. “But I'm not very hungry.”

Jeremy and Dusty continued to chat as they walked. Sandy stared at the back of their heads. Dusty was taller and leaner than Jeremy. Sandy decided her initial impression that Dusty resembled Brad Donnelly was the product of an overactive imagination. They reached the elevator for the parking deck.

“I'm on level three,” Jeremy said.

“I'm on four.”

“I'll wait for you. What are you driving?”

“A black BMW.”

When Jeremy and Sandy got off the elevator and the doors closed, she immediately turned to him.

“Why in the world did you ask him about eating lunch? Don't you realize how uncomfortable this is going to be for me?”

“I'd like to get to know him,” Jeremy replied patiently. “Lawyers on opposite sides of cases usually don't take it personally. As soon as the judge leaves the room, they stop fighting. If they didn't, it would dramatically increase the incidence of ulcers.”

“What about my ulcers?”

“Do you have ulcers?”

“No.”

“Look, I know this isn't what you wanted, but while we were in the elevator, I felt an inner nudge from the Lord to reach out to this guy. When that happens, I try to obey it.”

Sandy bit her lower lip. It was hard to argue with someone who claimed to be following God. She remembered her recent prayer at the church.

“What am I supposed to say at lunch?” she asked.

“Nothing unless you want to. We're not going to talk about the case. If he brings it up, I'll change the subject.”

They got into Jeremy's vehicle. He backed out of the parking space and stopped to wait. “Jesus said to love your enemies,” he added.

“I love Carol Ramsey,” Sandy sniffed, “but that doesn't mean I want to have lunch with her. At least not now.”

A black BMW whizzed around the corner and honked its horn. As the car passed by, Sandy saw Dusty wave his hand. They moved forward.

“Is this our first argument?” Jeremy asked.

“No,” Sandy replied. “An argument implies a discussion. You delivered an ultimatum.”

“Okay.” Jeremy smiled. “Complain to Leanne. She'll sympathize with you. I've dragged her into awkward social situations several times because I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“How did that work out?”

“Sometimes good, other times not so good.”

They left the parking deck and merged onto the expressway. Dusty drove fast, and they zipped in and out of traffic. He started to leave them behind. Jeremy accelerated.

“Who's going to represent you if you get a speeding ticket?” Sandy asked, gripping the armrest on the door.

Before Jeremy could answer, Dusty changed two lanes of traffic and took an exit ramp on the right. Jeremy tried to follow. The sound of a loud horn made Sandy jump. A large truck had switched lanes and was within inches of the passenger side of the vehicle. Jeremy jerked the steering wheel to the left, braked sharply, then cut over onto the exit ramp, just missing a row of safety barrels. Sandy, who had been holding her breath, exhaled.

“That was exciting,” Jeremy said, shaking his head.

“No, we could have been killed!”

They reached the top of the ramp and rolled to a stop. Dusty was waiting at a traffic light that was red.

“Sorry,” Jeremy said, glancing over at Sandy. “That was a close call. I should have thought more about your safety than keeping up with Dusty. I forgot to ask for his cell phone number and didn't want to lose him.”

“Don't drive like that, no matter the situation,” Sandy fumed. “And your concern shouldn't be for me. You have a wife and two children who need you.”

The light turned green, and Dusty turned left onto the street. He accelerated quickly. Jeremy held back. They made it safely through two intersections, then Dusty turned right into a restaurant parking lot. He was waiting for them at the entrance to the restaurant and held the door open for Sandy, who walked past without looking at him. A hostess seated them at a table next to a window that offered a view of the parking lot on the other side of the building.

“I had a little trouble keeping up with you,” Jeremy said as soon as they were seated.

“The exit snuck up on me,” Dusty replied casually as he read the menu. “The Reuben sandwich here is the best I've had in Atlanta.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jeremy said. “That's one of my favorites.”

Sandy loved Reuben sandwiches too, but she kept staring at the menu. A young waiter brought them water.

“I looked at your firm's website,” Jeremy said to Dusty. “Did you move here from California?”

“Yeah, I've been with Jenkins and Lyons in L.A. since law school. The firm developed a niche in liver damage suits against a big health supplement manufacturer. There are enough claims in Georgia to justify an on-site presence for a couple of years, so I volunteered.”

“I can imagine how the volunteer thing came down.”

“No, I had a say in it. I needed a change in scenery.”

The waiter returned to take their order. The two men looked at Sandy.

“The Reuben,” she said, “with a side of fresh fruit.”

“Same for me,” Jeremy said.

“Make that three,” Dusty added.

The waiter left.

“At least we all agree about one thing,” Dusty said with a smile.

Sandy didn't respond. Jeremy took a sip of water.

“Did you grow up in California?” he asked.

“Yeah. My father was a computer designer, and my mother worked at a school.”

“Was she a teacher?”

“A speech therapist.”

Sandy's mind flashed back to Linda's kitchen and a folder from the adoption agency about a similar couple in California.

“She died from a brain aneurysm when I was fifteen,” Dusty continued.

A sharp sadness cut through Sandy's heart. Dusty turned to Jeremy.

“I looked at your website and saw that you used to be an assistant DA. Did you prosecute a lot of moonshiners?”

“No, that's a federal offense. But I had this one case involving a guy who thought he was making—”

Sandy didn't listen as Jeremy told a war story. The folder at the agency had identified the adoptive father as a computer engineer, which sounded a lot like a computer designer. And how many computer designers in California were married to speech therapists? She stared as hard as she could at her water glass, but her eyes kept darting to Dusty. He bore a passing resemblance to Brad, but it wasn't as striking as Jeremy's similarity to Sandy and her brother Jack. Dusty's hair had a hint of red, but the nose and mouth weren't right, and his chin was shaped differently.

Jeremy finished a story that left the two men laughing. The waiter brought their food. The sandwiches were made with corned beef, sauerkraut, Swiss cheese, and Russian dressing, all piled high between slices of dark rye bread.

“The owner claims they make the bread in the back,” Dusty said. “If this isn't any good, there's a fast-food place you can go to on the other side of the expressway.”

Jeremy took a big bite, chewed for a moment, and shook his head.

“Is there a problem?” Dusty asked.

Jeremy swallowed. “No, it's probably the best Reuben that's ever passed my lips. It's impossible to find something like this in Tryon.”

Sandy nibbled the corner of her sandwich. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Sandy took a drink of water and looked at Dusty.

“Are you adopted?” she asked.

Dusty had his sandwich halfway to his mouth. He stopped and gave her a surprised look.

“No,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

Dusty returned his sandwich to the plate.

“Yes. And I have the birth certificate and baby pictures to prove it.”

Jeremy coughed into his hand. “Sandy, I told you and Dusty that I'm an adoptee. Maybe that's what you're remembering.”

Sandy gave Jeremy an incredulous look.

“I think I can keep that information sorted out in my mind,” she said.

Dusty looked at Jeremy and rolled his eyes. The way he did it reminded Sandy of an identical gesture she'd seen Brad do many times.

“Talking about adoption reminds me of maybe the strangest case I handled when I was in the DA's office,” Jeremy said, obviously trying to change the subject. “It involved a grown woman who legally adopted her elderly stepfather after her mother passed away and then tried to collect on a life insurance policy as the only surviving heir when the old man fell down a flight of stairs and died.”

Jeremy launched into another story, leaving Sandy with questions racing through her head. She wanted to find out Dusty's date of birth and ask whether any of the early pictures he mentioned included shots of his pregnant mother. She excused herself and went to the restroom. While washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't see anything of herself in Dustin Abernathy.

Also in the back of Sandy's mind was the warning she'd received from the old woman at the gas station. Everything the woman told her had come true. Now, the boys were grown men whose contact with each other was a ticking time bomb. Sandy thought about the close call on the expressway on the drive to the restaurant and shuddered. For Jeremy to continue to interact with Dusty was daring death. When she got back to the two men, her focus returned to the table.

“Jeremy, I'm ready to leave,” she said firmly.

“I'm almost done,” Jeremy replied, turning back to Dusty.

“And it turned out that the woman's boyfriend was the one who pushed the man down the stairs. They'd gotten into an argument over who would get the transmission from an old pickup truck parked in the front yard. If the boyfriend hadn't confessed, we never would have figured out what happened.”