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Take care,
Margaret Daley
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
—Psalms 46:1
To my mother-in-law, Marcella, who has been a great supporter of my writing.
Contents
District Judge Aubrey Madison left her office at the courthouse, her brain pounding against her skull. The jury was finally chosen today in her current trial—a trial that could propel her into the limelight, a place she’d rather not be. At least for the weekend, she could relax and enjoy time with her twins. They meant everything to her.
“Good night, Bill,” she said to the deputy sheriff at the rear entrance.
“Judge Madison, I’ll walk you out tonight.”
“I appreciate the offer, but you need to guard the door.”
He smiled. “I know. Part of the extra security for the Villa trial. I can keep an eye on the entrance and walk you to your car.”
Aubrey sighed. Bill took his job seriously. “I know. That’s why I parked near the entrance, so you wouldn’t have to go so far.” She stepped outside, where the sunset painted the sky with beautiful shades of red and yellow. “How are you doing?”
He slowed his pace, his forehead wrinkled. “I guess okay, Judge Madison.”
She stopped and turned toward Bill, a large man with a slight potbelly. “I know what you’re going through. My husband died two years ago. I’m here if you need to talk about your wife’s death.”
“Thanks.” His face tensed, and he started walking again. “You have enough to deal with.”
At the end of the sidewalk to the parking lot, Aubrey glanced at Bill. “I can take it from here. My car is right over there.”
The deputy sheriff scanned the area then nodded.
She strolled the short distance to her car. The warmth from the spring day had already faded, and the chill in the air made her shiver. She slid behind the steering wheel and pulled out of her parking space. As she headed toward the exit of the lot behind the courthouse, reserved for people who worked inside, she passed Bill and waved.
When she arrived home a short time later, she punched the garage-door opener then drove inside and parked next to her mother’s car. She didn’t know what she would have done if her mama hadn’t insisted on coming to stay with her at least until Camy and Sammy went to elementary school. Two years ago when her husband was murdered, Aubrey had to go back to work because of Samuel’s sudden death. Their savings had all been wiped out by medical bills when the twins were born early. She’d always intended to return to work, but not until they were in elementary school. Instead she’d run for the judge position six months later.
Not wanting to dwell on a past she couldn’t change, she hurried into the house, the scent of beef and onions permeating the place. “What’s for dinner? It smells great.”
Her mother pulled out a casserole dish from the oven and set it on a burner. “My lasagna. Camy and Sammy helped me.”
“Where are they?” Aubrey wondered how messy the kitchen had been after her twins’
