Entanglements (An Urban Fantasy / Paranormal Romance) by Mason P.R

Author:Mason, P.R. [Mason, P.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-09-29T04:00:00+00:00

* * * * *

Rom insisted on driving me to my father’s hearing as planned.

We left Senji, as our biggest brain, with instructions to find some Downy Woundwort somewhere, somehow or else find another cure. I wouldn’t consider the possibility of failure. We weren’t going to let Rom go crazy. Petra, Chase and Zen went to work on Operation Find Ghoul.

The courthouse elevator pinged announcing we’d arrived at our floor...The floor that would bring me face-to-face with my father. The prospect terrified me. Given the many terrors of the past few days, I was surprised I wasn't numb.

As Rom and I trod down the hall, the impact of our footsteps echoed on the industrial linoleum floor. Too soon, I stood outside the seemingly innocuous double doors of courtroom B.

“Prepared?” Rom asked.

Nodding, I pushed through the double doors and went inside. My fear quickly turned to confusion at the sight of the virtually empty room. Scanning, I took in the scene. The judge rose from his seat at the bench before passing through a door in the panel on the back wall—probably to his chambers. A news cameraman bent over a hard plastic case packing away his video equipment.

The Assistant DA I’d met with to rehearse my testimony, Karen Fowler, was near the jury box talking to a man I recognized as my father’s attorney. What had happened? I glanced at the clock just to confirm the time. We weren't late.

“No, no. Not possible,” Ms. Fowler said to my father’s attorney.

“Ms. Fowler?” I tried drawing her attention to me.

“Miss Taylor,” the ADA who didn’t seem that much older than I walked toward me.

She pushed through the short wood-swinging barrier leading from the business part of the courtroom to the gallery seats, holding out her hand. I offered my own in return. We shook like any two good business people. How civilized it all was.

“Is the hearing over?”

“Yes and no,” she said, darting a glare at my father’s attorney. “Mr. Stimpson made a motion regarding your father’s mental competency to stand trial.”

"He's arguing my father is insane?”

The ADA nodded. "I was expecting it, but since your father's attorney brought the motion at such a late date—” She darted another glare his way. “I didn’t know until today that our hearing would be delayed.”

Stimpson, a bald and morbidly obese man, toddled over to us.

“Kizzy,” he said as if he knew me.

The smarmy ass.

“Don’t call me Kizzy.”

Stimpson held up a hand for pardon and then used it to wipe sweat off his generous forehead.

“Sorry, Miss Taylor. I need to ask you something on behalf of your father.”

“There’s nothing you can ask that I would do for him.”

“He says he wants to see you,” Stimpson said.

“You can take what he wants and shove it up the nearest orifice of your choice.”

“I know, I know. It’s natural you’d be upset,” he tried to mollify me.

“Really? You think so?” I rolled my eyes.

“But your father says he has to talk to you because—Now let me get this right.

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