Page 69

Story: Where Secrets Lie

She took a sip of sweet tea and put the glass on the table beside her phone. “Dad told me the board is thinking about replacing me, Hez. I think they’re right to do it. I have no idea how to save TGU. I should have known better than to take on something so above my abilities.”
He reached over and took her hand. “And who will they put in your place? One of your dad’s cronies to milk the last of what life is left in the university? You care, Savannah. You’re the only hope TGU has. It’s why you took the job in the first place. I was so proud of you when you said you had to try. And you’ve done that with all your strength.”
A boat horn blared out on the water, and the forlorn sound reverberated in her chest and intensified her sense of failure. “And I couldn’t save it.”
“The only mistake you made was putting too much faith in me and Jess. We’re the ones who let you down.” His voice went hoarse. “Jess’s web of deceit and revenge was nearly perfect, and I-I’m damaged. Even after working all day, I’m not sure if I missed something that could save the university.” He rubbed his head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same man. I shouldn’t have missed that clause.”
She’d never seen him so uncertain of his abilities. He was right—he’d been operating at less than full capacity after thebrain injury. This wasn’t his fault or her fault. Evil won a battle now and then.
She rose and settled on his lap and cupped his face in her hands. “Putting my faith in you is never a mistake. If we lose TGU, I know God still has a purpose and a plan. The war isn’t over as long as we’re still breathing.”
She kissed him, and the tension eased out of his shoulders as he pulled her closer. She wound her arms around his neck and felt the pulse in his neck quicken to match her own. Neither of them could wait until they were finally married. She sank deeper into his embrace until a sharp report from somewhere had them both on their feet. The glass in the sliding door behind them shattered, and she recoiled at the sound.
“Get down!” Hez bore her down on the balcony floor and covered her with his body.
His breath was raspy in her ear, and she struggled to get up when another gunshot rang out and someone down on the street screamed. Other voices shouted to take cover. An engine revved and tires squealed below them. She turned her head to peer between the iron railing, but it was dark and the angle was off.
She tried to get up. “I have to get to Simon!”
Hez held her on the floor as he reached up and grabbed her phone off the table to hand it to her. “Call 911. I’ll check on Simon, but I’m sure he’s fine. The office is on the back side of the condo.”
The weight of Hez’s body moved off her, and he helped her to her feet and propelled her down the hall to the bathroom. “Call the police and I’ll be right back with Simon. We’ll stayhere until the police arrive. There are no windows, so we should be safe.”
She perched on the edge of the tub and typed in 911 with a shaking hand. She reported the shooting incident and tried to calm her racing heart. The distant sound of sirens blared, and the sound of Simon’s sleepy voice behind the closed door reassured her he was okay.
Who could have shot at them? Hornbrook was about to get everything he wanted, so why bother with something that could land him in jail?
Chapter 38
Adrenaline, caffeine, and fatigue mingled in Hez’s blood as he sat in the courtroom, waiting for the hearing on Hornbrook’s motion to start. The police and evidence techs had been in his condo until 2:00 a.m., taking statements, digging bullets out of the living room ceiling, and so on. They stationed a squad car on the street for the rest of the night, but no one in the condo could sleep. One of the officers, a young cop named Jackson Brown, had speculated that the shots had been intended to knock Hez off his game before the hearing. Hez hoped the shooter had failed.
As if sensing his thoughts, Savannah reached over and squeezed his hand. She sat next to him at the counsel table, and he appreciated her supportive presence. “You’ll do great.” She kept her voice down so the opposing lawyers at the table on the other side of the lectern couldn’t hear her.
The Honorable Alice Sticklesby’s courtroom reflected her no-nonsense personality. The two counsel tables each had fresh copies of the judge’s standing order in the exact center of the tabletop—and no water pitcher or cups, which were customary in most courtrooms. A lawyer had once spilled in her courtroom, and the pitchers vanished the next morning.A piece of tape on the utilitarian gray carpet showed exactly how far lawyers could move from the lectern without asking permission. There was a place for everything, and everything was in its place. Including attorneys.
At precisely nine o’clock, Judge Sticklesby walked through the door behind the bench. She was a tall, very fit woman of about sixty who had been a scholarship volleyball player at Auburn. Her stark black robe was, of course, freshly pressed and spotless.
“All rise,” the clerk intoned. Hez got to his feet, and so did the Hornbrook attorneys at the other counsel table. There were three of them, and they were all flying back to New York immediately after today’s hearing, judging from the roller bags lined up behind them. “The Bankruptcy Court for the Southern District of Alabama is now in session, the Honorable Alice Sticklesby presiding. Calling the matter of In re Tupelo Grove University, motion for relief from automatic stay. Counsel, state your names for the record.”
Hez cleared his throat. “Hezekiah Webster on behalf of the debtor, Tupelo Grove University. I have with me the university president, Savannah Webster.”
“Allen Boswell on behalf of movant, Hornbrook Finance, LLC,” said the oldest Hornbrook lawyer, a tall silver-haired man in a navy suit. “With me are my colleagues Robert Greenwood and Judith Smith.”
Hez glanced back at the courtroom gallery. Empty. The other side had only sent lawyers—no one from Hornbrook Finance had bothered to come. They must view the hearing’s outcome as a foregone conclusion.
Judge Sticklesby frowned at Boswell. “Have you read my standing order, Mr. Boswell?”
“No, Your Honor.” Boswell gestured to the bags behind them. “We are only in town for this hearing, and we haven’t had a chance to review your order. My apologies.”
The judge tapped a nail on the polished wood of the bench, making rhythmic clicks. “The order is online and specifies that counsel may not bring any items past the bar except briefcases. Please move those bags into the gallery.”
Hez repressed a smile. The other side’s lawyers must have been glad they didn’t have a client representative watching the hearing.
“Yes, Your Honor.” Boswell gave a curt nod to the young woman he’d identified as Judith Smith. She was already on her feet and scrambling to move the offending luggage, a panicked look on her face.
Hez felt a little sorry for Smith as she struggled with the three bags. She was the junior attorney on Team Hornbrook, so it probably had been her job to be aware of things like Sticklesby’s standing order. He opened the gate to the gallery for her and gave her a friendly smile. She nodded her thanks as she passed.
“All right, let’s get down to business. I’ve read the papers, so no need to repeat anything that’s in your briefs.” Judge Sticklesby nodded to Boswell. “It’s your motion, Counsel. Any argument?”