Pulling his pickup truck into a parking spot at the edge of the lot, Ford inhaled deeply as he looked at the majestic brick building which had stood longer than any other building in Lynyrd Station. A tornado had swept through town twelve years ago and wiped out most of the town. Few buildings were left fully standing, the courthouse being one of them. Others were partially destroyed and now had new additions added on to the formerly standing walls. So, the courthouse was revered in a special way as indestructible. Today, he only hoped it ended this black chapter in his life.
Spotting his sister, Emmy Lou, and his brother, Dawson, waiting for him at the top of the steps in front of the entrance, he pulled his keys from the ignition and exited his truck. Swallowing the lump in his throat as he neared them, the somber looks on their faces told his story. They were scared, worried, and sick to have to be here today but eager to get on with life. Their new life.
His boots made soft thumping sounds as he ascended the steps to greet his siblings. The sun beat down, already creating a bead of sweat on his temple, and he could feel moisture gather at his back. Another scorcher today.
He hugged Emmy first. Her long, dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail at her nape, her dark eyes so much like his held the emotions of a hundred people in them. He wrapped his arms around her tighter and pulled her closer, whispering in her ear, "We'll be okay. We can do this."
"I know. I'm not used to being on this side of the courtroom, and I'm nervous as hell."
"’Bout time you see what some of your clients have to go through. It'll make you a better lawyer for them."
She scoffed and slapped at his shoulder, but the weak smile she gave him said it all. She thought so too. She was a damned good lawyer, though she often found herself working for the worst clients. Drug dealers and pedophiles—as a defense lawyer, she got them all. But she always believed a fair trial kept these scumbags from getting an appeal and kept them in jail where they belonged. Good thing they didn't know she felt that way.
Turning to Dawson, Ford wrapped him in a warm embrace. "Love you, man. It's going to be all right."
"I know, Ford. We're finally going to see this piece of shit go to jail for killing Mom and Dad. I haven't been able to sleep, thinking we'd finally be getting justice for them."
"It's all I've been able to think about for the past four years."
"Yeah, I get that." Dawson, the youngest of the three of them and the most emotional, blinked away the wetness gathering in his eyes. Dawson's sandy brown hair and blue eyes were just like their mom's, and Ford had to swallow the lump that had grown in his throat at the thought. Their parents had been killed in a fire set by Bobby Ray June just over four years ago; he'd been tracking Bobby Ray ever since. Then, Bobby Ray was a suspect in the fires that burned through Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, and Ford had been so damned mad that he hadn't gotten to him. He stepped up his efforts which required him to be away from home for five months and finally brought him in eight months ago. Getting to this trial had seemed like an eternity, and his heart was heavy that he hadn't been able to get justice for his parents. That is, until now. Finally.
Stepping back, he inhaled deeply and asked, "Shall we head inside?"
They turned to enter the old brick building, the sun still high in the sky. The cloudless day seemed a good omen for them.
"Ford! Hey, wait up."
He turned to see Detective Rory Richards briskly walking toward them. Leaning forward to shake hands with his high school friend, Ford could see the trouble in his eyes.
"Hey, I hate to be the one to tell you this, and I'm so sorry." He cleared his throat. "Bobby Ray June escaped as he was being transported to court this morning."
"What?" Emmy yelled. "Honest to God, didn't you have that animal chained up in every way possible?"
Tears instantly raced down her cheeks as she looked to Ford for their next move. His jaw clenched, and his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach, threatening to spill the meager contents inside.
"He had help. We're thinking Waylon June." Rory's fingers shook as he handed the grainy pictures to him. "We'd like you on this, Ford—if you think you want to track this asshole down again."
It was hard to make out distinct features, but the resemblance was certainly the mark of family. Sliding each picture off to Emmy and Dawson as he looked them over, the last one was a gut punch. Both Bobby Ray and Waylon giving the camera on the prison escort van the finger and wearing smiles on their disgusting pudgy faces.
Emmy gasped as she saw the last picture. Dawson swore and choked back a sob. Emmy grabbed Ford’s arm and turned him toward her. "You have to go. You have to go and get that motherfucker again."
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