be appreciated,’ the judge said dryly from the bench.
So she sat and watched as Philip decimated the Crown’s case. Maybe his irritation gave him an edge this morning, she thought. He was smooth, intelligent, insightful—the best lawyer she knew. He’d do magnificently in the city. That he’d returned home to Banksia Bay—to her—seemed incredible.
Her parents thought so. They loved him to bits. What was more, Philip’s father had been her brother Ben’s godfather. They were almost family already.
‘He almost makes up for our Ben,’ her mother said over and over, and their engagement had been a foregone conclusion that made everyone happy.
Except … Except …
Don’t go there.
She generally didn’t. It was only in the small hours when she woke and thought of Philip’s dry kisses, and thought why don’t I feel … why don’t I feel …?
Like she did when she looked at Rafferty Finn?
No. This was pre-wedding nerves. She had no business thinking like that. If she so much as looked at Raff in that way it’d break her parents’ hearts.
So no and no and no.
Raff was on the stand now, steady and sure, giving his evidence with solid backup. His investigation stretched over years, with so many pointers …
But all of those pointers were circumstantial.
She suspected there were things in Philip’s briefcase that might not be circumstantial.
Um … don’t go there. There was such a thing as lawyer-client confidentiality. Even if Baxter admitted dishonesty to them outright—which he hadn’t—they couldn’t use it against him.
So Raff didn’t have the answers to Philip’s questions. The
Crown Prosecutor didn’t ask the right questions of Baxter. It’d take a few days, maybe more, but even by lunch time no one doubted the outcome.
At twelve the court rose. The courtroom emptied.
‘You might like to go home and get another jacket,’ Philip said. ‘I’m taking Wallace to lunch.’
She wasn’t up to explaining about Kleppy right now. Where to start? But she surely didn’t want to have lunch with Wallace. Acting for the guy made her feel dirty.
‘Go ahead,’ she said.
Philip left, escorting a smug Wallace. She felt an almost irresistible urge to talk to the Crown Prosecutor, tell him to push harder.
It was only suspicion. She had no proof.
‘Thanks for taking Kleppy.’ Raff was right behind her, and made her jump. Her heart did the same stupid skittering thing it had done for years whenever she heard his voice. She turned to face him and he was smiling at her, looking rueful. ‘Sorry, Abby. That was a hard thing to ask you to do this morning, but I had no choice.’
Putting Kleppy down. A hard thing …
‘It was too hard,’ she whispered. The Crown Prosecutor was leaving for lunch. If she wanted to talk to him …
She was lawyer for the defence. What was she thinking?
‘Hey, but you’re tough.’ Raff motioned to the back of the courtroom, where Bert and Gwen Mackervale were shuffling out to find somewhere to eat their packed sandwiches. ‘Not like the Mackervales. They’re as soft a touch as any I’ve seen. They lost their house, yet you’ll get Wallace off.’
‘Raff, this is inappropriate. I’m a defence lawyer. You know it’s what I do.’
‘You don’t have to. You’re better than this, Abby.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Yeah, well …’ He shrugged. ‘I’m going to find me a hamburger. See you later.’
Uh-oh. Maybe she shouldn’t have snapped. Definitely she shouldn’t have snapped. Not when there was such a big favour to ask.
How to ask?
Just ask.
‘You couldn’t cope with another dog, could you?’ she managed and he stilled.
‘Another …’
‘I couldn’t,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t. He’s still alive. Raff, he … he looked at me.’
‘He looked at you.’ Raff was looking at her as if she’d just landed from Mars.
‘I couldn’t get him put down.’
Raff was carrying papers. He placed them on the nearest bench without breaking his gaze. He stared at her for a full minute.
She didn’t stare back. She stared at her shoes instead. They were nice black shoes. Maybe a bit high. Pert, she thought. Pert was good.
There was a smudge on one toe. She considered bending to wipe it and decided against it.
Still silence.
‘You’re keeping Kleppy?’ he said at last.
She shook her head. ‘I’m … I don’t think it’s possible. I’m asking if you could take him. Fred says you have a menagerie. One more wouldn’t … wouldn’t be much more trouble. I could pay you for his keep.’
‘Fred suggested …’ He sounded flabbergasted.
‘He didn’t,’ she admitted. ‘I thought of it myself.’
‘That I’d take Kleppy?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered and she thought that she sounded about eight years old again. She sounded pathetic.
‘No,’ he said.
She looked up at him then. Raff Finn was a good six inches taller than she was. More. He was a bit too big. He was a bit too male. He was a bit too … Raff?
He was also a bit too angry.
‘N … No?’
‘No!’ His expression was a mixture of incredulity and fury. ‘I don’t believe this. You strung out a dog’s life in the hope I’d take him?’
‘No, I …’
‘Do you know how miserable he is?’
‘That’s why I …’
‘Decided to give him to me. Thanks, Abby, but no.’
‘But …’
‘I’m not a soft option.’
‘You have all those animals.’
‘Because Sarah loves them. Do you know how much they cost to feed? I can’t go away. I can’t do anything because Sarah breaks her heart over each and every one of them. Don’t you dare do this to me, Abby. I’m not your soft option. If you saved Kleppy, then he’s yours.’
‘I can’t …’
‘And neither can I. You brought this on yourself. You deal with it yourself.’ His voice was rough as gravel, his anger palpable. ‘I need to go. I didn’t get breakfast and I don’t intend to miss lunch. I’ll see you back in court at one.’
He turned away. He strode to the court door and she chewed her lip and thought. But then she decided there wasn’t time for thinking. She panicked instead.
‘Raff?’
He stopped, not looking back. ‘What?’
Sometimes only an apology would do. She was smart enough to know that this was one of those times. Maybe a little backtracking wouldn’t hurt either.
‘Raff, I’m very sorry,’ she said. ‘It was just a thought—or maybe it