Relevance. Judge Hartwipple looked at Garrett. Where are you going with this counselor? Your honor, I'm trying to establish whether there could be other explanations for the missing necklace. I'll allow it, but make your point quickly.
Garrett turned back to Victoria. Have you been? No, Victoria said, but there was a hesitation there, a fraction of a second where her perfect composure slipped. Wyatt saw it. And from the gallery, so did Ruby.
Garrett sat down. He'd done what he could, but it wasn't enough. Victoria had given them nothing to work with. No inconsistencies, no cracks in her story, just a smooth, polished narrative that fit together like pieces of a puzzle designed to trap Wyatt inside it. The second day of trial brought more witnesses.
A detective who walked through the investigation, a forensics expert who confirmed that Wyatt's fingerprints were found on the jewelry box. Garrett pointed out that this was expected given where Wyatt had been working, but the damage was done. The jury had seen the photograph of why its prints lifted from the smooth wood surface, had heard the expert confirm a match. Reasonable explanations didn't erase visceral evidence. PICE called the jewelry appraiser next.
A man in his 60s with glasses in the kind of precise vocabulary that came from a life spent assigning value to beautiful things. He testified that the necklace was worth $52,000, that pieces like this were rare, that they were targets for theft. In your professional opinion, would someone familiar with valuable items recognize this necklace as being worth stealing? Absolutely. No further questions.
Garrett declined to cross-examine. What was the point? Nobody was disputing that the necklace was valuable. The question was who took it and the prosecution had already built a case that pointed in only one direction. During the lunch recess, Wyatt sat in the courthouse cafeteria with Ruby while Garrett made phone calls and Hank smoked outside in the rain.
Ruby picked at a sandwich she wasn't eating. Her face was pale. Her eyes had dark circles underneath that made her look older than six. You should eat, Wyatt said gently. I'm not hungry.
Try anyway. For me. Ruby took a small bite. Chewed mechanically, swallowed without tasting. Wyatt watched her and felt something twist in his gut.
This was what the trial was doing to her, stealing her childhood one day at a time, teaching her that the world was a place where innocent people could be destroyed for no reason except that they were convenient. "Daddy," Ruby said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are they going to say you're guilty?" Wyatt wanted to lie, wanted to promise her that everything would be fine. But he'd built their entire relationship on truth, and he couldn't start lying now, even to protect her.
I don't know, baby, but whatever happens, I need you to know something. I didn't take that necklace. I would never steal. Do you believe me? Ruby's eyes met his blue on blue.
She didn't hesitate. I believe you. That's all that matters, Wyatt said. As long as you know the truth, nothing else matters. But even as he said it, he knew it was a lie because the truth mattered to everyone except the 12 people in that jury box.
And they were the only ones with the power to decide his future. The afternoon session brought character witnesses for the prosecution. People who testified about the value of Victoria's property, about her standing in the community, about how devastating the loss of the necklace had been for her. It was all carefully orchestrated, all designed to make the jury see Victoria as a victim and Wyatt as the obvious perpetrator. By the time Judge Hartwell adjourned for the day, Wyatt felt hollowed out, empty, like someone had taken an augur to his chest and removed everything vital.
He walked out of the courthouse holding Ruby's hand and barely registered the rain or the cold or Hank's arm around his shoulders. That night, after Ruby was asleep, Wyatt sat in the dark living room with his leather cut draped across his lap. He ran his fingers over the patches, the wing skull, the words loyalty above all. He thought about the men who wore these patches, about the code they lived by. You didn't abandon your brothers.
You didn't let them face battles alone. You showed up. But this battle wasn't one that Brotherhood could fix. This was lawyers and judges and a system that moved with the mechanical indifference of a machine designed to process people rather than understand them. All Hank and the others could do was sit in the gallery and watch, bear witness, make sure Wyatt knew he wasn't alone.
It should have been enough, but it wasn't because alone or surrounded by brothers, Wyatt was still the one standing trial, still the one whose freedom hung by a thread. Still the one who might be taken from his daughter because a woman with money and a motive had decided to destroy him. The third day of trial was Wyatt's turn. Garrett called him to the stand and Wyatt walked up there with legs that felt like they belonged to someone else. He placed his hand on the Bible, swore to tell the truth, sat down in the chair that was still warm from the previous witness.
Garrett approached with what he probably thought was a reassuring expression. Mr. Brennan, can you tell the jury about the day you worked at Mrs. Ashford's home? Wyatt took a breath, forced his voice steady. I got a call asking me to restore an antique cabinet. I arrived at 2:00 in the afternoon.
My daughter was with me because she wasn't feeling well, and the school had called me to pick her up. And what did you do when you arrived? I examined the cabinet, assessed what needed to be done, started working on realigning the door and restoring the back panel. Where was the jewelry box in relation to where you were working? It was on a side table at maybe 5 ft away near the cabinet.
Did you touch the jewelry box? I might have accidentally while I was working, but I didn't open it. Didn't look inside. I was focused on my job. What time did you leave?
Around 6:05. Ruby's fever was getting worse. I needed to get to the pharmacy before it closed. And where did you go after you left? Riverside pharmacy.
We got medicine for Ruby. Then we went straight home. Mr. Brennan, did you take Mrs. Ashford's necklace? No, absolutely not. Garrett nodded and sat down.
Then Pierce stood up and Wyatt watched her approach like a predator that had been waiting for exactly this moment. Mr. Brennan, you mentioned you might have touched the jewelry box accidentally. That's convenient, isn't it? An explanation for why your fingerprints are on it. It's the truth.
You also mentioned you needed to get to the pharmacy. Why didn't you get a receipt? I paid cash. I usually do. You usually pay cash, so there's no paper trail.
No proof. I wasn't thinking about needing proof. I was thinking about my daughter. How much debt are you currently carrying, Mr. Brennan? Garrett stood.