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Aurora Daniels inhaled the scent of justice wafting through the courtroom. Winning the motion would come at a grave price, no doubt. Every case she tried did. But her seventeen-year-old client, Austin Bledsoe, could be rehabilitated. It wasn’t in the interest of justice to try the boy as an adult. To toss away the key on a kid who needed a champion, an advocate. A boy who reminded her remarkably of her older brother, Richie.
The courtroom had emptied several minutes ago, and she carefully placed her documents inside her briefcase, taking her time and hoping a mob wouldn’t be waiting for her once she stepped foot into full-on February. Not nearly as frigid as Chicago temperatures, but Hope, Tennessee, could produce incredibly bitter wind and, occasionally, snow.
“Watch your back, Counselor.”
Aurora plopped her phone into her coat pocket and whipped her head in the direction of the low but smooth male voice. Sheriff Beckett Marsh loomed at the doors to the courtroom, onyx eyebrows furrowing over intense eyes that matched his dark mood.
“You threatening me, Sheriff?” Beckett was honest and noble, but he was as fired up over the outcome of today’s motion as the Russell family. Her heart pinched as she thought of them grieving in the right front row. But someone had to do this job. She had to.
“Warning.” He uncrossed his right ankle from his left, pushed off the door frame and stalked her way, heavy work boots clunking on the freshly polished hardwood. He folded his muscular arms across his chest and Aurora worked to keep her wits. Beckett Marsh was ridiculously fit and attractive, but he wasn’t a fan of hers professionally or—apparently—personally. Most law enforcers didn’t care for defense attorneys. Especially those who were good at their profession. “You realize you’ve taken a murderer and allowed him to be slapped on the wrist.”
Aurora raised her chin. “Austin Bledsoe has had no trouble with the law. He makes decent grades. His grandmother passed away two weeks ago. She was his only stability.” Stability was everything she’d always wanted and never had, which was why she’d promised herself that, when she became an adult, she’d do whatever necessary to gain it. Enter accepting the position at Benard, Lowenstein & Meyer. What a nightmare that had turned out to be.
Beckett snorted. “So that makes drinking a bottle of Old Crow and gettin’ drunker than Cooter Brown before plowing into a decent woman—on her way to church, no less—okay?”
“What he did was far from acceptable.” Aurora’s stomach knotted. “He made a fatal mistake in his grief, and he will face consequences—crushing guilt for the rest of his life, for one—but he won’t be thrown away forever. He can be rehabilitated. I know it.” Too bad she couldn’t be rehabbed from her past shortcomings. No matter how many times her mentor promised her that God could free her from the guilt she carried, she couldn’t muster enough faith to believe it.
“Well, Bethany Russell can’t be.”
Aurora dropped her head, torn between championing her client for a second chance and understanding the agonizing pain of the Russell family. She mourned her brother daily. They’d been close. If he could have hung on until she’d graduated law school and got ahold of those case files to exonerate him... But he had slipped away too soon. “I know that, too. Truth is no one won here today. No one.”
“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” Beckett ran his tongue along his full bottom lip. “In the meantime, you’ve got a big portion of the town in an uproar, and when you walk outside the courthouse it won’t be the wind bitin’ at your throat. It’ll be grieving friends and family who expected a better outcome.”
Aurora swallowed down a rush of anxiety. “Well...I appreciate the colorful depiction of my near future.” She tried to slide by Beckett, but he grasped her forearm.
“Counselor, I cared about Bethany Russell and her family. And this town—this county. I’ll do whatever I need to in order to protect the people who live here. My warning isn’t to slice you. You’re a citizen of Hope. I want you safe, so be careful.” The edge in his eyes tempered a fraction and he released his civil grip.
“Thank you.”
He jammed his hands into his coat pockets. “You want me to walk you to your car?”
She
