IX

            "Rebecca Eaves, friend of the defendant's, was sitting in the passenger's seat of the car when the murder took place. She will be testifying of exactly what she saw on the night in question."

            Kennedy turned back around from her accusatory glare at Celeste and felt Hotchky's hand on her arm.

            "This shouldn't be too shocking," the lawyer whispered, "She's the most logical person for the state to use."

            "But she acted like—"

            "They most likely subpoenaed her," Hotchky interrupted, "She wouldn't have a choice, even if she liked you."

            Kennedy reminded herself that she had consciously kept her lawyer out of the loop when it came to her and Rebecca reconnecting. Mainly because she didn't feel like bringing her father into the conversation when he had nothing to do with her life anymore.

            "Miss Eaves will be one of our later witnesses." ADA Karl continued, "Our first witness called to testify in this fine court will be Mr. Leo Lutz, a private investigator hired by Elizabeth Wilcox to find her husband's murderer. Mr. Lutz will testify of his conversation with Miss Rebecca Eaves when she confessed to witnessing the crime in question, and of his investigations done beforehand into the defendant herself.

            "The state's second witness will be Mrs. Elizabeth Wilcox, the wife of the deceased. She will testify of her husband's affair with the defendant, including physical evidence of the affair and a clear motive for the defendant to kill Mrs. Wilcox's husband. The state's third witness will be the young woman we have already named, Miss Rebecca Eaves.

            "The state's fourth witness will be Mr. Hunter Uriah, the man who owned the Airbnb that Miss Eaves and the defendant stayed at during their time in Tampa, when the crime was committed. He will testify of the goings-on in the house on the night in question and the morning after, when there were suspicious comings and goings by the defendant."

            Kennedy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They had tracked down the Airbnb guy? She was pretty sure she had said no more than three words to him the entire time they were there. Rebecca had been the one chatting away and making small talk.

            She also found herself a bit distracted by the ADA. He was definitely older than her by a bit, but wasn't bad to look at by any means. Tall, dark and handsome. Her type.

            Shut up, she reprimanded herself immediately, if you sleep with an old guy again I'm gonna commit you. Plus, he's actively trying to get you thrown in jail for killing the last old guy you slept with.

            "The state's fifth and final witness will be our only expert witness, Dr. Christine Blaser. Dr. Blaser is a highly-regarded psychiatrist who has been in the field for over twenty years. She will be explaining to us the mindset of someone who could run over another person with their car and leave the scene without a second thought, as well as why it is likely that the defendant's past shows a tendency towards irrational, even manic, behavior."

            Kennedy kept her face still as she felt the eyes of every juror turn to her in practical unison. She ignored them and kept her eyes focused on ADA Karl, who glanced back to look at her briefly. Hotchky wrote something else down on her notepad and the weird little mouse lawyer sneezed loudly, resulting in a few 'bless you's' coming from the people behind them.

            "Members of the jury," Karl continued, "the defense will try and tell you that the defendant was acting in self-defense. They will try and tell you that the defendant was not in the right state of mind at the time of the accident. They may even tell you that the defendant killed her victim accidentally. However, we will prove to you that the defendant knew exactly what she was doing, that her actions were premeditated, and that she was not in any imminent danger when she killed Mr. Wilcox.

            "After you have heard all the evidence, we ask that you find the defendant guilty of murder with express malice. Thank you."

            The ADA sat down at the little table on the other side of the courtroom from the defense, and Kennedy couldn't help but notice him glance over at her again.

            Stop staring at me, she thought.

            "Defense?" The judge spoke.

            Hotchky stood and walked towards the jury, notepad in hand but eyes focused firmly on the people sitting in front of her.

            "Brianne's a genius," the mousy guy leaned over to Kennedy, "You're gonna be just fine."

            "I hope so," Kennedy muttered back. She watched as Hotchky took a deep breath and plastered on a smile.

            "Your Honor, and may it please the Court."

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            "I thought you were gonna stay at the courthouse in case something happened," Rebecca raised her eyebrows as Celeste and Spencer walked into the apartment, "Is today's part over already?"

            Celeste shook her head and Spencer answered the question.

            "No, it's still going on. The lawyer guy said that you were the third witness, so we left. You're not gonna be called today. His opening stuff took like eight hours."

            "You've been gone for half an hour."

            "Same thing."

            "Kennedy's lawyer is probably talking now," Celeste shrugged, setting her purse down on the kitchen counter, "You should go tomorrow, though. You might be called then."

            Rebecca nodded.

            "Do you think that guy will still be the one asking questions? The ADA?"

            "Probably, unless the DA gets better." Spencer said.

            Rebecca nodded as a knock sounded on her front door.

            She went to open it and found Lydia Farrow on the doorstop, unaccompanied by her husband.

            "Hello Rebecca," she smiled a smile that made the hairs on Rebecca's arms stand straight up, "May I come in?"

            Rebecca thought for less than a second before nodding. The model looked like she weighed less than 100 pounds, so Rebecca was pretty sure she could take her if need be.

            Lydia stepped into Rebecca's apartment and Rebecca closed the door behind her, waiting for the other woman to speak.

            "So, how's our little Kennedy project going?" Lydia spoke, her eyes glued to Rebecca's, "It's been enough time for you to have something to tell us, and we haven't heard a peep."

            Rebecca shrugged.

            "I don't have a ton to tell you; Kennedy's a pretty private person."

            Lydia rolled her eyes.

            "Don't play dumb, Miss Eaves. You must have found something on her, or why would you be testifying for the state in her trial?"

            "There's this thing called a subpoena—"

            "Miss Eaves," Lydia interrupted, "I'm not here for my health."

            Rebecca thought for a second, trying to think of something. She had spent so much time looking into Kristopher and Hank that she had sort of forgotten about her promise to Kennedy's parents to give them 'dirt' on their daughter.

            "She told me about what happened with Hank," Rebecca began, and Lydia leaned forward slightly in her seat. "She told me about why she did it, and it seemed like a legitimate reason. I feel like it's a reason that would hold up in court."

            "And that reason is?"

            Rebecca swallowed loudly.

            "That he was stalking her."

            Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, as if Rebecca's words had been the ultimate letdown.

            "We already know that Kennedy is claiming Hank stalked her—"

            "Then I don't know what to tell you." Rebecca replied quickly, "That's all I have so far. You're gonna have to wait for anything else."

            Lydia leaned forward in her position across from Rebecca, placing her hand on the other girl's leg. Rebecca stiffened at the touch.

            "Did you know that website hosts can see when someone visits their site?" Lydia asked, her voice low. "They know when someone visits their site, and they know the city they're visiting from."

            Rebecca's breath caught in her throat as she stared at Kennedy's stepmother, speechless.

            "And," Lydia continued, her grip on Rebecca's leg getting a bit tighter, "If you pay extra? You can even see the visitor's exact street."

            Rebecca tried to breathe as the image of Hank, Lydia and Jaxson Karl's website filled her mind. She knew she looked guilty as all hell. But she couldn't help her facial expressions. She couldn't help that she could feel the fear coursing through her body, stemming from where Lydia's maroon stiletto-style nails were piercing her skin.

            "I—I don't—"

            "Next time I visit, I expect some...better...information." Lydia retracted her hand and Rebecca glanced down to see that she had drawn blood, "And I hope not to see anyone from this street looking at a specific website again. Because next time, I won't be keeping the information to myself, and I'm the most forgiving one of the bunch."

            I could just go to the library or something, Rebecca thought.

            "I also have your IP address," Lydia stood, "So be careful of where you're going online, Miss Eaves."

            Rebecca didn't say a word, her heart pounding in her throat. Lydia smiled softly before leaving the way she came, the sound of the closing front door following her out.

            Rebecca immediately ran to her bathroom and vomited up her breakfast, coughing into the toilet and wiping her mouth with a tissue, disgusted. She never threw up. She hadn't thrown up since she was seven years old. It was more disgusting than she remembered.

            "Bec?" Celeste knocked on the bathroom door, "Are you alright?"

            Rebecca had completely forgotten that Celeste and Spencer were home and in the kitchen during that entire exchange.

            "Yeah," Rebecca called out, forcing her voice to remain steady, "I'm fine!"

            "Who was that?"

            "One of the paralegals from my lawyer's office. Just some reminders about the trial and my testimony."

            "Alright," Celeste replied through the door, her voice doubtful, "If you say so."

            Rebecca heard footsteps retreating and took a deep breath, flushing the toilet and sitting on the bathroom floor with her back against the door.

            Twenty minutes later she was still in the same position when another knock sounded at the door.

            "I'm fine, Cel." Rebecca called out, "Just washing my face."

            "I will kick this door in if you don't open it," a voice that was certainly not Celeste's came from the other side of the door.

            Rebecca stood up immediately and unlocked the door, finding a very angry Kennedy Abrams on the other side.

            The alleged murderer pushed into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Her pointer finger jabbed Rebecca in the chest and pushed her against the opposite wall of the bathroom within two seconds of entering.

            "When were you planning to tell me that you're a backstabbing bitch?"