Read Online Ladies' Night by Mary Kay Andrews - Free Book Online Page A

aware that Bo had a T-ball game at four that afternoon. My client even sent her a text message reminding her of that fact. But she was a no-show. She never notified my client of Bo’s whereabouts, instead dropping him off at the park half an hour after the start of the game, and without his team uniform or his glove. The child was distraught, in fact, in tears, because he thought he’d let his team down.”
    The opposing lawyer stood up. “Judge, if you watch our video, you’ll see that if there were indeed any tears, which my client states there weren’t, it was probably only because Bo was afraid that Wyatt Keeler, who also happens to be his coach, and who obviously has a volatile temper, might be angry at him .”
    The man who’d been sitting at the table beside the female lawyer shot to his feet. He was coatless, but dressed in a pale yellow long-sleeved dress shirt and a blue necktie. He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. His clean-shaven head was deeply tanned and gleamed in the glow of the courtroom lights. “That’s not true,” Wyatt Keeler called out, his voice cracking with emotion. “My son has never been afraid of me. He was crying because it was a big game, and Callie and Luke couldn’t be bothered to get him there in time to play.”
    “That’s enough, Mr. Keeler,” the judge snapped. “Anything else, and I’ll have the bailiff remove you from this courtroom.” He closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right,” he said, gesturing to the same bailiff who’d already shushed Grace and Mitzi. “We’re about to be running late. I want to see this video right now.”
    A moment later, a projection screen had been set up at the front of the room and the overhead lights dimmed. The video, grainy and depicting jerky movements, obviously shot from a cell phone.
    As Grace and the other observers in the court watched, they saw Wyatt Keeler, dressed in a bright turquoise T-shirt with MARASOTA MAULERS in script lettering across the front, come storming toward the camera, his eyes narrowed, jaw set angrily, fists clenched.
    “ Hey, man,” he called. “I’m not done with you.”
    Now the camera showed a second man, with dark, slicked-back hair, wearing khaki slacks and a red polo shirt, walking hurriedly toward the camera. He wore dark sunglasses. “Make sure you get all this, Callie,” he called, glancing over his shoulder. An unseen female voice said. “ I got it.”
    Now Wyatt Keeler charged toward the other man, grabbing him from behind by the shoulders and spinning him around. It looked like he was saying something, but their voices were muffled.
    The woman’s voice rang out. “ Get your hands off him, Wyatt.”
    Sunglasses man easily shook himself free of Wyatt Keeler’s grasp and went jogging away with Wyatt Keeler following at a steady clip.
    “Back away, Wyatt,” the woman’s voice called. “If you put your hands on Luke one more time, I am calling the cops. I mean it, too.”
    Wyatt Keeler looked right at the camera, stricken. His pace slowed and his facial expression softened, slightly. The camera moved back a little, now showing a gleaming white Trans-Am in the foreground.
    “Don’t do this, Callie,” Keeler pleaded. “Bo needs me. You can’t just take him away like this. I won’t let you. This is his home.”
    “Not anymore it ain’t,” Luke Grigsby taunted. He was almost at the driver’s side of the Trans-Am. “You call living in a double-wide trailer a home? The kid doesn’t even have his own room. He’s coming with us to Birmingham, and there’s nothing you can do to stop us.”
    “Fuck you, Luke,” Wyatt Keeler’s voice rang out crystal clear. He was advancing again, his face menacing.
    “Get in the car, Callie,” Luke said loudly. “Come on, before this maniac hurts somebody.”
    Luke opened the driver-side door and started to slide onto the seat. The camera was moving now, so the footage was even jerkier and