Page 75 of Declan

“We would help each other out with situations whenever a need arose.”

“Like what kind of situations?”

“Oh, typical showbiz situations,” I say sweetly. “Like whenyourmarried boss showed up backstage at my show when I wasn’t even eighteen and attempted to show me a thing or two, having Bobby around prevented some of those situations.”

The prosecutor gapes at me, and his co-counsel chokes from across the room as he attempts to stand. After a few attempts, the lawyer in front of me chokes out, “Objection!”

Penny smiles, but the men on her side of the table look anything but amused, which is good because we don’t want them to come off acting like they knew any of the shit I’m about to spill.

I glance at the judge, who appears a bit perplexed, but after a beat, he responds, “Overruled. Either you want her to explain her situationship with the deceased, or you don’t.”

I turn back to the prosecutor, standing in front of me, but he’s now looking behind him at his co-counsel, who appears frazzled and more than a bit concerned. After a momentary silent debate, he turns back to me and says, “Is that all, Mrs. Hughes?”

“Oh, goodness no,” I exclaim. “At one point, there was this whole debate going on about who could score my v-card,” I pause, then lean closer to the judge and whisper, “That’s slang for my virginity,” then I face forward again and add, “I overheard my old manager talking about it to some of his old cronies backstage, and let me tell you, they all seemed very excited about the prospect of deflowering a minor.”

Declan’s eyes almost bug out of his head, and his hands fist on top of the table as he stares at me, fire burning in his eyes. I glance behind him to see his brother and his friends all have the same furious expression while Penny is looking positively gleeful in her seat.

The prosecutor doesn’t say anything, so I continue, “There were all sorts of people there; let me see if I can remember,” I pause again, bringing a hand up to my face as I concentrate for a couple of seconds, then I snap my fingers like it all just came back to me. “There were a few big-time music execs and the state’s attorney at the time, some police detective,” I pause again as if I’m confused, but then I brighten and add, “Oh, and that old judge who retired recently. What was his name?”

Now, everyone is staring at me with their jaws dropped open, but no one is saying anything, so I start digging around in the bag I left on the floor by my feet. “You know what? I bet I still have that video. I can tell you everyone who was a part of that whole debacle. It really was abominable behavior for grown men.”

I yank my phone out of my bag and swipe through my albums until I locate what I’m looking for; then I hold it out to the prosecutor, who’s looking everywhere but at my phone. I wait a moment to see if he will take it, and when he doesn’t, I turn and offer it to the judge. “Would you like to have a look, Your Honor?”

He also doesn’t look at the phone, but he does look me in the eye and shake his head as he says, “No, Mrs. Hughes, that’s quite all right,” then he turns his attention back to the now-dumbfounded prosecutor and asks, “Are you done with this line of questioning, or do you need more clarification on her relationship with the deceased?”

“I just want to clarify what she said previously and what she’s saying now, as they don’t match.”

“Can you prove they don’t match?”

“You Honor, in her previous statement, she clearly stated—“

The judge interrupts, “Counselor, do you or do you not have the recording in question?”

“No, Your Honor. I do not currently have it.”

“So, you’re saying that a significant part of your case against the defendant is based on a lost recording of Mrs. Hughes allegedly stating the defendant didn’t like her ex-boyfriend?”

The prosecutor’s eyes widen, and he glances at his co-counsel briefly before turning his attention back to the judge. “Yes, Your Honor. That appears to be the case.”

The judge levels him with an unimpressed stare, then looks to Penny as he asks, “Does the defense have any questions for Mrs. Hughes?”

Penny stands and responds quite cheerily, “Yes, Your Honor, we do.”

The judge motions for her to proceed, and Penny rises and walks toward the stand while the prosecutor takes a seat with a rather sour expression on his face. Penny smiles at me warmly, and I remain impassive and wait for her to ask a question.

“Mrs. Hughes,” Penny begins, the smile on her face disappearing as she continues, “Did you have a conversation with Detective Swanson?”

“Yes,” I reply clearly.

“And in this conversation, did you tell Detective Swanson that the defendant had a grudge against Mr. Schmidt?”

I sigh, frowning as I think over my response, then I respond, “No, that is not what I said.”

Penny’s eyes light up, but her features remain serious as she asks, “And do you recall what you said?”

“Of course,” I reply firmly. “They asked me if my husband had any reason to kill Mr. Schmidt, and I said not that I recall. They barely knew each other.”

Penny raises a brow at me quizzically. “So, you’re saying, for the record, that the defendant didn’t know the deceased well enough to have a grudge against him?”

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