Page 126 of Not Mine to Rescue

“I told ya he’s a good lawyer. But he’s not good at managing things. He said when you two were married, you took care of all the details. He even said that you’d probably be better at contract law than criminal, but that’s still years away… The important part right now is, you’re not in jail.”

The weight of my ankle bracelet said otherwise. “I killed someone.”

Wombat laughed until his face turned red.

“Don’t laugh, it’s not funny.”

He tried to stop but only got as far as smiling. “You should become a judge. You threw the book at her.”

“Wombat!”

“Black’s Law Dictionary? You couldn’t find anything harder?”

“Shut up.”

“What? Are you at a loss for words?”

My nostrils flared. I knew where he was getting this from. “You and the club won’t stop will you? Fly’s calling me Big Mama and singing at me. Boots is worse, calling me the Sultana of Swat. Kid calls me Slugger…”

“Walt says the book’s better than the movie.”

I screamed my frustration to the ceiling. “One of these days⁠—”

“Hoot’s back.”

Wombat’s statement stupefied me into stillness. “He survived?”

“Yeah. Shocked the hell out of me. ‘Landed on my head one evening when I was fixing a fence. He tried to bite my ear because I didn’t have any grubs for him. And, his wing is doing better.”

I deflated onto the love seat opposite from him.

“How’s DA?”

“Good. He misses Molly though.” Of course, Molly perked up her ears at the mention of her and her best friend’s names.

He continued, “I’d say bring her over for a visit, but you can’t.” He glanced down at the electronic monitor locked around my leg. While I could leave the house, Wombat’s house and the farm were part of an exclusion zone because it had been the scene of the crime.

He leaned forward to ask, “How much longer do you have to wear that?”

“Eighteen days, then, who knows? Denise is going to watch Molly during the trial.”

“That’s bullshit.”

It was kind of him to take offense, but I’d resigned to necessity. “At least I’m not locked up. The high-risk pregnancy was a deciding factor to let me post bail.”

His quiet question was almost a whisper. “When’s your next doctor appointment? I’d like to come.”

“Wednesday.” Passing the three-month mark was a milestone I’d not thought I’d meet. Neither had my medical team even though they never spoke their fears out loud.

“I’ll be there. I mean, if that’s okay with you? I won’t fight for custody. Jim was blowing smoke.” He looked down to cover the lie.

“You’ll need custody…if. They could lock me up at any time. Jim’s right. It was stupid to confess.”

“No, he ain’t, you’re going to beat this. But if you’re cool with joint custody, I’m good.” There were words in his eyes that didn’t match the ones coming out of his mouth.

I needed to know. “Are you? Are you good?”

“No. I miss you. I’m missing out. I’m not here to help you. Or hold you, or anything. I want all that.”