Dread Champion

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Authors: Brandilyn Collins
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out of here. I’m going to get Terrance, tell him to get you out right now!”
    â€œBrett!” His father pressed a hand to the glass. “Terrance is already doing all he can. I’ll be home before you know it.”
    Before you know it…
    â€œLet me say that again.”Terrance Clyde’s resonant voice boomed through Brett’s memories. Brett blinked, forced himself to focus. “Because it’s the most important thing you’ll hear during this trial.” The attorney leaned on the railing of the jury box, eyeing the jurors with fatherly wisdom.“The ‘evidence’ the prosecution will present to you cannot surmount the high standard of reasonable doubt.”
    A reporter on Brett’s left cleared her throat as she wrote. Brett stared at her hands for a moment, then let his eyes wander. So many people filled the row in front of him. He’d come in late enough to know that the rows behind him were just as filled. Many of the people he could see were obviously not reporters.Who were these people? Was this their idea of entertainment, watching his family laid bare? Somewhere behind Brett sat Shawna’s older sister, Lynn, who’d traveled from her home in Michigan for the trial. The first sight of her had disgusted Brett. So heavily made up. Such lewd clothes and rough manner. She even made Shawna look good. Lynn had come to watch his father “fry for the death of my sister,” as she’d put it, eyes narrowed in hatred. Brett could practically feel her vengeance at his back.
    â€œAnd so you will see, ladies and gentlemen,”Terrance Clyde concluded, “that this case is built upon nothing but circumstantial evidence. Evidence that can’t possibly add up to the high standard that must be met in order for you to consider a guilty verdict.”
    With all his heart Brett hoped that was true.His dad couldn’t be convicted; he simply couldn’t. Brett couldn’t imagine how his father, who so loved the outdoors, would ever survive years in jail. The last six months had been bad enough. Or how he himself would survive without his father. Fortunately, they had their foreman, Rudy, to take over main duties for the ranch. But nobody could run it like his dad. There was only one Salad King.
    Terrance Clyde thanked the jury and sat down. The judge rapped her gavel, recessing court for a fifteen-minute afternoon break. All around Brett people rose, gathering notebooks, purses,murmuring to one another. On the row in front of him, a young figure stood slowly, glancing behind her at the milling bodies. Brett caught a glimpse of a beautiful, high-cheeked face framed by blond hair. The cut of her jaw was both chiseled and dainty, her lips full.
    Her eyes caught his and hung there before sliding away. Something about her looked healthy and frail at the same time. Brett watched the hesitation of her movements, felt a lostness wafting from her to him.
    From the corner of his eye Brett caught sight of his father being escorted toward a back courtroom door by a bailiff. Thoughts of the young woman fell away as he watched, hoping his father would give him a glance. Just before disappearing through the door, his father looked back and nodded at him. Brett forced a grim smile. He turned toward the courtroom exit,wondering what to do with himself for the next quarter hour.

SEVEN
    In the hall, Stan Breckshire broke up his tête -à - tête with Lynn Trudy. Nutty woman. She was constantly cornering him with questions and suggestions. Darren Welk wasn’t going to get away with the murder of her sister, no sir. They’d discussed his opening remarks, the various jurors. Stan tried to convince her he did know what he was doing. He’d already begun watching the jurors, taking in their reactions, he told her.Who took notes and who didn’t? Who seemed more emotional? Lynn agreed that the Japanese college student, Tak Nagakura, was a stoic one.His

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