chapter 3
Linda burst into the ladies’ room and immediately backed against the swinging door to hold back the demons chasing her. It did her no good. She couldn’t erase the horrible image of Tony wearing jail clothes and standing among the other defendants in the courtroom.
As far as she knew, Tony had never been arrested before. Yet now he was being charged with Guapo’s murder?
Her heart beating rapidly, Linda stumbled to one of the bathroom sinks. As she stared at her reflection, she automatically touched her hip. She could almost feel the tattoo burning her skin, as if it were about to combust.
Out damned spot! Out. Like Lady Macbeth, she longed to be released from the guilt the symbol caused her. But like Hester Prynne, she’d chosen to keep her brand. As a reminder. In case she ever felt tempted by her impulsive nature. In case she ever started to believe that being with an addict or giving in to a vice herself was okay. In a sense they were one and the same for her. Seeing Tony just now proved it.
Despite the reason he was here, despite knowing he was being charged with Guapo’s murder, seeing him had burst open a hunger inside her that she’d barely been managing to keep suppressed. A hunger for him. In comparison the pleasure she’d felt when flirting with Neil seemed laughable.
If Tony had killed Guapo, he had to have been acting in self-defense. Guapo must have gone after Tony, or even Tony’s family. But how was that possible? They’d been in the Witness Security Program. They should have been states away from Sacramento. Was Mattie here, too? And if so, why hadn’t she—why hadn’t Tony himself—called Linda as soon as he’d been arrested?
Because they’d known she wouldn’t help? When the only possible reason she’d refuse to help would be...
For just a second Linda’s belief in Tony’s innocence faltered.
The bathroom door suddenly pushed open. A young woman, a pretty yet world-worn looking brunette with gold highlights and a scowl on her face, walked in. Although Linda kept her gaze averted, she felt the woman staring at her for a few seconds, likely wondering why Linda was upset, before she stepped into a stall and kicked the door shut.
Shakily Linda splashed cool water on her face. It didn’t make her feel any better. Her stomach rolled. She bent forward, her hands gripping the cool porcelain sink, and gasped for breath.
He’d changed, she thought again. Not just his hair, but...inside. He’d changed. He’d looked at her with empty eyes when before they’d always been full of life. And love. For her.
Even on the last night they’d been together, even when he’d accepted she wouldn’t change her mind about breaking up with him, there’d been a spark behind the desperation and regret. As if there would always be a part of him that would be hers, and that he wouldn’t stop trying to convince her. Ever.
But that spark was gone now.
Something cold and hollow had taken its place. She felt it trying to press itself inside her—that same insidious sensation: cold and hollow. And once again she wondered why Tony hadn’t called her.
She wondered if he truly had murdered Guapo.
Straightening, Linda swiftly washed her hands. As she did so, she heard sniffing from the stall behind her. Was the woman crying? If so, what a pathetic pair they made. Before she could leave, the other woman stepped out of the stall. Linda turned to look at her.
And barely stopped herself from flinching.
For a split second the woman seemed to look at her with an expression of utter hatred. Then the expression was gone and the woman smiled. She moved to the sink beside Linda and washed her hands.
Was she a friend of one of the defendants Linda was prosecuting? Or a defendant herself, one who’d been released on her own recognizance after her arrest? If that was the case, she was likely being charged with a petty theft, minor assault or drug charge. Given those three options, though she couldn’t know for sure, Linda would place bets on the woman being a druggie. Despite her subdued clothing and makeup, the woman had a pinched look to her face and a jittery way of moving. A look in her eyes that seemed all too familiar to Linda. For all she knew, the sniffing she’d heard had been the woman ingesting a controlled substance.
Then again, would she really be so foolish as to do it here? With Linda present?
It didn’t matter. Linda hadn’t seen her doing anything illegal and she couldn’t avoid her own troublesome situation by imagining another one.
Tony had come back into her life with a vengeance. Now she had to deal with it.
* * *
The courtroom doors opened and the room quieted as Linda walked back inside. Though Tony stared at her, practically willing her gaze to his, she refused to look at him.
The bailiff called his name, signaling that Tony should stand again. Pain shot through his left thigh, causing him to grit his teeth. Thanks to Guapo and the damage he’d done, Tony now walked with a strong limp that his leg shackles only worsened. But to Tony his physical injuries weren’t what hurt the most.
It was the memory of Linda’s expression a few minutes ago. The horror and betrayal she hadn’t quite been able to hide. Just as she hadn’t been able to hide her disappointment on the night she’d woken and found him in the kitchen, staring at that damn bag of drugs.
He was overwhelmed with conflicting feelings of joy and anger. God, he’d tried so hard to put his past behind him. Didn’t that count for something? Didn’t he deserve to at least tell her the truth, so that he could leave this world knowing she still cared about him? Knowing that she didn’t think he was some kind of sick bastard?
But no. It didn’t matter that he’d tried. He’d failed. He’d still ended up hurting the people he’d cared about most. His failure could hurt them yet again.
The emotions circling inside him momentarily paralyzed him.
Grief. Confusion. Regret. Longing.
He pushed all of them away. Forced himself to remain impassive as the clerk read the charges against him.
When the judge asked him how he pled, Tony followed the advice of the public defender he’d met with earlier. He lied. “Not guilty, Your Honor.”