Chapter 1 12
Willow held her phone away from her, one hand covering her mouth, and her eyes closed tight. She was tempted to refuse. After all, if she did, maybe the D.A. wouldn ’ t subpoena her. It might happen, right? She remembered Chad ’ s words and hesitated. Was it disrespectful to balk at something that she knew Chad wanted her to do willingly? He asked so little of her , and while technically he hadn ’ t asked her to give her deposition willingly, she knew he hoped she would. With a deep breath, she opened her eyes, held the phone back to her ear, and sighed.
“ I ’ m here. I ’ ll come whenever you need me , but I want to make it plain, I won ’ t be volunteering any information. I ’ ll answer your questions , but I ’ ll not elaborate .”
“ You don ’ t want to testify against the woman responsible for all your trouble last winter? ”
“ She ’ s not. Her husband is and he ’ s dead .”
“ And your grandmother, ” the D.A. ’ s assistant said firmly, “ k illed him .”
“ I ’ m aware of that , but since I have hardly spoken to the woman, I don ’ t see how that is relevant to me. I ’ m only cooperating out of respect for my husband and his job. If I were single, I ’ d rot in jail before I testified .”
“ I see .” The tone of the D.A. ’ s assistant told Willow that the woman didn ’ t “ see ” at all.
“ When do I need to be there , and how long should I expect it to take? ”
“ Monday morning, eleven-thirty. We ’ ll break for lunch at one o ’ clock. Depending on how well it ’ s going , we could be done by then or have several more hours. It really depends on if the defense attorney perceives you as an asset or a liability .”
“ And, ” Willow said wearily, “ i f I do this, then I don ’ t have to go to court? ”
“ Probably not , but you never know. Sometimes people get called, sometimes not. But if we don ’ t get a deposition, you will be called to testify in court .”
“ Then I ’ ll be there . I ’ ll see you Monday morning. Bye .”
Willow s lid the cover over her phone with more force than necessary. Leaving her baskets of freshly picked produce sitting at the edge of the garden, she slowly wandered toward her mother ’ s grave , talking to Portia as she went. Portia, somehow, had become the replacement for Othello that Saige had never had the chance to become.
“ Portia , girl, I don ’ t know about this. I don ’ t want to do it , but I want to disappoint Chad even less. What would Mother do? ”
The dog looked at her innocently as if to say, H ow on earth should I know?
“ Othello? ” Willow sank to the grassy mound next to her mother and scratched Portia ’ s ears as she rambled her thoughts aloud. “ What do you think? What would Mother do? ” She giggled. “ Of course, if I ask you, why can ’ t I ask M other. I feel like that bookkeeper in the movie about the bookstore owner — asking the mother what they should do .”
Chad saw her there several hours later as he turned into the driveway. She lay curled on the ground , sleeping under the shade of the tree with Portia chasing butterflies nearby. At the sound of his wheel on the driveway, Portia raced for the fence excitedly.
As he leapt over the fence and strode to Willow ’ s side, Chad ’ s face slowly furrowed in concern. Why was she out here? Willow rarely visited the grave unless bothered by something. What was she planning?
He sat beside her, brushing escaped tendrils from her braid away from her face and watched her sleep. Though it made him feel strange and sometimes foolish, Chad loved to watch her sleep. He ’ d always heard how parents enjoyed gazing at their sleeping children and thought it so unded almost creepy but not any more.
A glance at his watch told him he ’ d better waken her. Jill would arrive any minute to pick up the produce , and Willow wouldn ’ t want to be caught asleep. “ Willow? ” He shook her shoulder
Willow held her phone away from her, one hand covering her mouth, and her eyes closed tight. She was tempted to refuse. After all, if she did, maybe the D.A. wouldn ’ t subpoena her. It might happen, right? She remembered Chad ’ s words and hesitated. Was it disrespectful to balk at something that she knew Chad wanted her to do willingly? He asked so little of her , and while technically he hadn ’ t asked her to give her deposition willingly, she knew he hoped she would. With a deep breath, she opened her eyes, held the phone back to her ear, and sighed.
“ I ’ m here. I ’ ll come whenever you need me , but I want to make it plain, I won ’ t be volunteering any information. I ’ ll answer your questions , but I ’ ll not elaborate .”
“ You don ’ t want to testify against the woman responsible for all your trouble last winter? ”
“ She ’ s not. Her husband is and he ’ s dead .”
“ And your grandmother, ” the D.A. ’ s assistant said firmly, “ k illed him .”
“ I ’ m aware of that , but since I have hardly spoken to the woman, I don ’ t see how that is relevant to me. I ’ m only cooperating out of respect for my husband and his job. If I were single, I ’ d rot in jail before I testified .”
“ I see .” The tone of the D.A. ’ s assistant told Willow that the woman didn ’ t “ see ” at all.
“ When do I need to be there , and how long should I expect it to take? ”
“ Monday morning, eleven-thirty. We ’ ll break for lunch at one o ’ clock. Depending on how well it ’ s going , we could be done by then or have several more hours. It really depends on if the defense attorney perceives you as an asset or a liability .”
“ And, ” Willow said wearily, “ i f I do this, then I don ’ t have to go to court? ”
“ Probably not , but you never know. Sometimes people get called, sometimes not. But if we don ’ t get a deposition, you will be called to testify in court .”
“ Then I ’ ll be there . I ’ ll see you Monday morning. Bye .”
Willow s lid the cover over her phone with more force than necessary. Leaving her baskets of freshly picked produce sitting at the edge of the garden, she slowly wandered toward her mother ’ s grave , talking to Portia as she went. Portia, somehow, had become the replacement for Othello that Saige had never had the chance to become.
“ Portia , girl, I don ’ t know about this. I don ’ t want to do it , but I want to disappoint Chad even less. What would Mother do? ”
The dog looked at her innocently as if to say, H ow on earth should I know?
“ Othello? ” Willow sank to the grassy mound next to her mother and scratched Portia ’ s ears as she rambled her thoughts aloud. “ What do you think? What would Mother do? ” She giggled. “ Of course, if I ask you, why can ’ t I ask M other. I feel like that bookkeeper in the movie about the bookstore owner — asking the mother what they should do .”
Chad saw her there several hours later as he turned into the driveway. She lay curled on the ground , sleeping under the shade of the tree with Portia chasing butterflies nearby. At the sound of his wheel on the driveway, Portia raced for the fence excitedly.
As he leapt over the fence and strode to Willow ’ s side, Chad ’ s face slowly furrowed in concern. Why was she out here? Willow rarely visited the grave unless bothered by something. What was she planning?
He sat beside her, brushing escaped tendrils from her braid away from her face and watched her sleep. Though it made him feel strange and sometimes foolish, Chad loved to watch her sleep. He ’ d always heard how parents enjoyed gazing at their sleeping children and thought it so unded almost creepy but not any more.
A glance at his watch told him he ’ d better waken her. Jill would arrive any minute to pick up the produce , and Willow wouldn ’ t want to be caught asleep. “ Willow? ” He shook her shoulder
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