The Murder Game by Julie Apple

Author:Julie Apple [McKenzie writing as Julie Apple, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-11-01T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

BUILDING BLOCKS

We broke for lunch and Richard and I left the courtroom together. As we walked toward the door, I noticed that both the Allans and the McCarthys were there, as was Julian’s brother, Peter, whom I hadn’t seen in years. He gave me a curt nod, and turned away. I wondered if anyone from my past would be speaking to me by the end of this trial.

We walked through the doors into a blaze of camera lights. A reporter shoved a microphone in face.

“Ms. Delay, would you care to comment in this morning’s evidence?”

“No comment.”

“Mr. Sayers says he’s confident his client will be acquitted.”

“No comment.”

“Who will you be calling this afternoon?”

“Could you please move? I need to get to my office.”

“Won’t you answer one question?”

“She said no comment,” Richard said. “Let us through.”

The reporters backed off, and Richard and I walked to the elevators.

“Thanks for that,” I said. “I hate reporters.”

“No problem. So, do you think Sayers hurt us? It seemed like he did.”

“He did his job.”

“Why don’t you seem more concerned?”

I shrugged. “Every trial has its ups and downs. He’s going to have good days, and we’re going to have good days. You can’t get caught up in the emotion of it all.”

“But he did a really good cross, right?”

“Yes. He’s very good at what he does.”

We took the elevator to the fifth floor, and lined up in the cafeteria line. I chose a sandwich and a large coffee, and joined Richard at a table near the windows. We talked over that afternoon’s witnesses: the scene technician and the medical examiner. I was letting Richard introduce their evidence since it was routine. We went over his questions one more time as he nervously nibbled his sandwich, and I did my best to bolster his confidence.

When we were done I decided to go outside for a few minutes to get some air while Richard got ready. I exited the courthouse onto Notre Dame, walking through the crowd of smokers. As I passed through the cloud of smoke, I breathed in deeply, hankering for the days when I could’ve calmed my nerves with a cigarette or two. But it had taken too much willpower to finally give up, and I didn’t want to risk any recidivism. Instead, I sat down on the stone wall that framed the courthouse grounds in a patch of sunlight, and closed my eyes while trying to absorb some of the brightness that surrounded me.

I’d been on the medication for almost two months, but the internal clouds hadn’t lifted. Instead, they seemed to be sitting where they’d always been, not getting any bigger, but not dispersing, either. I was sleeping better, though, and an added bonus came from the fact that I’d stopped drinking: I no longer had the semipermanent, low-grade hangover I’d been carrying around with me on a regular basis.

I hadn’t quite managed to put Chris away, though. I thought back to our conversation of that morning with regret. The problem was, I couldn’t pour him down a drain or take a pill to make him disappear.

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