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The prosecutor finally looked up from his file folder. "The victim, Julio Marquez, is at the hospital being treated for claw wounds. Mr. Marquez describes being attacked by a bear in Ms. Chapman's shop on South Congress. In fear for his life, Mr. Marquez shot but missed. The bear then struck Mr. Marquez again, rendering him unconscious. According to Mr. Marquez, he entered the store on a dare by his friends and waved around his gun. The bear attacked from the back of the store. Mr. Marquez did not see him before that."
Elizabeth jumped to her feet. "That's not what happened!" A dare by his friends? No way in hell. Elizabeth had looked into the cold, hard eyes of the kid, which had held an anger too old for his age. She'd recognized that anger. Julio Marquez was a dangerous young man.
The judge banged her gavel. "Ms. Chapman, sit down, or you will be fined for contempt."
The prosecutor leafed through his file. "Mr. Marquez's statement and Ms. Chapman's are not exactly the same, but both agree that the bear attacked Mr. Marquez."
"Because Marquez was forcing me into my office at gunpoint!" Elizabeth cried.
Another steely glare from the judge. "You will be called to give your version of events in due time, Ms. Chapman. Sit down."
"Best sit down, love," Liam whispered. "Kim will take care of it."
He sounded confident. Elizabeth sank to the bench, and Liam nodded at her. Good girl. Ronan sent her another reassuring look over his shoulder.
Even Kim seemed unperturbed. "The witness is understandably stressed, Your Honor," she said. "It's late, and she's had a bad experience."
The judge really didn't like Kim Fraser. For defending a Shifter? Elizabeth wondered. Or for marrying one?
The prosecutor broke in. "Maybe Ms. Chapman should be allowed to give her evidence so she can go home."
The judge's face softened as she listened to the prosecutor. The man was attractive in a slick sort of way . . . what a witch.
"Of course," the judge said. "Ms. Chapman?"
At that moment, Elizabeth's cell phone pealed. She was surprised she could get a signal behind all the steel doors, but the name that popped up on the screen was Mabel's.
"Cell phones are supposed to be off," the judge snapped.
"I have to take this. It's my little sister. She's home alone, and she's worried."
The judge looked as though nothing had ever harassed her more. "Outside."
The bailiff unlocked the door. Elizabeth charged out, and Liam quietly followed her.
"Mabel? I can't talk right now, honey. I'm in court."
Mabel's frantic voice cut over hers. "Lizzy, there are men outside, trying to get in. A bunch of them, and they have guns. I don't know what to do. I'm so scared!"
Chapter Three
"Call the police," Elizabeth yelled down the phone, watery fear pouring through her. "Call them now."
"I tried. They don't answer."
"Then you hide. I'm in a courthouse. I'll get--"
Elizabeth stifled a shriek as Liam Morrissey snatched the phone out of her hand. "Mabel? This is Liam Morrissey. Connor's uncle, that's right. You rest easy, now, lass. I'll take care of this. Stay down, behind a bed, don't go near the windows. My lads will be there before you can count to ten. All right?"
He clicked off the connection and dialed another with ease of long practice. While Elizabeth stood there with her mouth open, Liam said quietly into the phone, "Sean, get Dad and Spike and go up to Thirty-Fifth Street near MoPac. Mabel Chapman. She's got armed intruders. Go now."
Whoever was on the other end hung up, but Liam kept hold of the phone. "Now, don't you worry. My brother will take care of your sister. Let's go back and get Ronan sprung."
Elizabeth didn't move. "I can't. I have to go home."
Liam put a warm hand on her shoulder. "You going home would only put you in danger as well. My brother and my trackers can help Mabel better than the police. No one stops my trackers, lass. No one. Come on, now."
Liam had reassurance down to a science. In spite of her gut-wrenching fear, Elizabeth let him lead her back past the bailiff and once more into the courtroom.
"Oh, I see that you're still with us, Ms. Chapman," the judge said. "How nice. Please approached and read the words on the card."
Elizabeth promised to tell the truth and the whole truth, so help her God, then went over her story, prompted by questions from the prosecutor. It was like being in a play--she might not know her lines, but the prosecutor wanted her to say certain ones, judging from his cues. Ronan, back in the chair, leaned forward, resting his big arms on his knees, watching her closely.
Fear for Mabel gnawed at Elizabeth as she answered the questions. Liam still had her cell phone. He glanced at it from time to time, his face grim.
Elizabeth concluded shakily, "So I know that if Ronan hadn't been there, Marquez would have killed me."
"But you don't actually know that," the prosecutor said in his condescending way. "That's only what you guess."
That did it. The gloves came off. "Look, I grew up with kids like Marquez," Elizabeth said. "Any guilt or conscience in him went away a long time ago. He only deals in if-then questions. If I can identify him, then he shoots me. In his mind, I was dead as soon as he walked in the door. End of story."
The prosecutor shrugged apologetically at the judge. "It's still only what she thinks."