Vanished || l.h. au

thirty three

“Yes, Your Honor.” I repeated.

“And who do you claim this man to be?”

My attorney glanced at me, knowing my answer to the question since we had discussed the case prior to the hearing. Apparently my answer was not a smart one, which made no sense seeing as it was the correct one.

“Sheriff Brooks, Your Honor.” I responded, listening as the audience murmurs began to increase in volume at my accusation. The judge banged the gavel twice against her bench, silencing the crowd.

“What evidence do you have for this accusation, Miss Laude?”

I gulped, not liking the multiple questions I was being asked directly. I could feel the multitude of stares directed at me as they all awaited my response. Even though all I had to say was the truth, it still did not eradicate the enormous pressure I felt.

“Luke, I mean uh, Mr. Hemmings, knew the man when we noticed him following us and identified him as so.”

“But the man does not look like Sheriff Brooks in the footage. Could Mr. Hemmings have been mistaken?”

I shook my head, but proceeded even though I was unsure of how to explain the situation without sounding insane. “Luke Hemmings identified the man as Dr. Samuel Jenkins, a doctor who used to work with his father. That is who he was at the time of the incident.”

“Are you implying that this Dr. Samuel Jenkins and Sheriff Brooks are the same person?” she questioned, giving me an unsure look.

I nodded my head. “That hair is dyed, Your Honor.” I stated, realizing how stupid that actually sounded but I couldn’t take it back. “And he’s wearing contacts.” I added in, letting out a small cough.

The judge switched her gaze to the sheriff and I noticed her eyeing his hair with close inspection. Well as close as she could get seeing as she was still sat behind the bench.

“Sheriff. What is your evidence against Miss Laude?” she directed. Sheriff Brooks held out his own folder in front of him, the apparent evidence against me displayed inside.

“The first piece of evidence we have are the fingerprints that were found along the base of Mr. Hemmings’ throat. The fingerprint scans matched those of Annabeth Laude. We also were notified by Mrs. Hemmings herself that Miss Laude paid a visit to her shortly after identifying Mr. Hemmings at the hospital’s morgue, asking her not to perform an autopsy on Mr. Hemmings.” I looked back in the audience, spotting Luke’s mother. She looked back at me with a regretful gaze, and I knew she had given that testimony when she thought that I was truly Luke’s murderer. Now we both knew the truth, but this new evidence could be spun the wrong way against me.

“We also have images from security footage of an outing between Mr. Hemmings and my--” he cleared his throat, and I noticed the mistake in his words, “what might be a possible other love interest. We speculate that Miss Laude knew of this outing of the pair, and exacted her revenge on Mr. Hemmings, with the accusation of cheating.” he stated, looking up at the judge. She stared at him, not seeming to agree.

“That would seem quite a bit of a stretch, does it not? Do you have any evidence to prove that she knew of the outing?” the judge asked. Thank you, at least someone else sees it from my view.

The sheriff gulped, scratching his head again. “No, Your Honor.” he responded, defeatedly. I had an inner victory, hoping that was all the apparent evidence they scratched up against me. However, when the sheriff unexpectedly turned his head to meet my gaze, I caught a mischievous glint in his eyes that told me he had something else up his sleeve. A pang of fear shot through me, not knowing what to expect. What else could he possibly have on me?