CHAPTER FIVE
"Mom! I can't find my graphing calculator!"
"Did you look in your desk?" she called out as she fumbled with the clasp of her necklace.
"Yes, it's not there." Paige heard her son rummaging around in his room and sighed wearily. As if it wasn't stressful enough she and Walter were scheduled to testify at the trial for the militia members that morning, it was also Ralph's first day of middle school.
He didn't seem to be nervous to be entering what she remembered as a seething hotbed of whacked-out hormones. Which made her even more concerned about sending her baby boy to what could possibly be the three most hellish years of his life.
Her other baby boy kicked her in the kidney, reminding her she was going to have to go through this again in another eleven years. "Someone needs to make a pill to stop kids from growing up," she murmured under her breath as she rubbed her back.
"Who's throwing up?"
"No one's throw. . . Oh. . .my." Paige spun around to see Walter leaning against the doorway, wearing a dark blue suit with a light blue shirt, her favorite red tie, and an anxious expression on his face. He'd unsuccessfully tried to plaster his damp curls to his head, and while he'd also shaved, there was still a patch of stubble around the dimple in his chin. Damn, he looked good enough to eat.
"Are you okay? I thought you said you weren't suffering from morning sickness anymore?"
"I'm not." She took a step toward him, a smile growing on her lips. "I'm suffering from something. . ."
"Mmmoooommmm!" Ralph appeared next to Walter. "I've looked everywhere and still can't find my calculator."
"You put it in your backpack last night," said the older genius, looking bewildered as he glanced from mother to son. "So you wouldn't. . .forget. . .it. . ."
"Oh, crap, I forgot." The youngster facepalmed himself.
Paige overlooked her son's crude language, saving that battle for another day. "Honey, it's all right. . ."
"No, it isn't," he cut in. "Everything's going to be different. Most of my friends are going to other schools. I'll have to start all over again."
"Hey, buddy," Walter said as he knelt down next to the anxious boy. "It's okay to be nervous. Change is hard, even for geniuses. Especially for geniuses." He patted Ralph on the shoulder. "Just follow the path that makes you the most comfortable. But don't be afraid to step out of your comfort zone once in awhile. You'll never know what new experience will change your life for the better. Okay?" He glanced up at Paige, flashing her a hesitant smile.
"Okay." Ralph threw his arms around Walter, giving him a quick hug. "I better go finish my breakfast," he said before darting away.
Middle schoolers weren't the only ones dealing with whacked-out hormones. Not only were hers already running rampant because of how attractive Walter looked, his fatherly demeanor towards her son kicked them up another notch.
"You're looking very hau. . . uh, handsome," she said, eyeing him up and down once again. Handsome was an understatement. It was taking all her resolve to keep from pushing Walter onto the bed and slowly removing every sharp dressed stitch of clothing from his body then. . .
"You look beautiful." His compliment startled her from her lusty daydream. She felt like a beached whale, but she knew he was being sincere. The love she saw shining in his eyes told her he meant every word of it.
Glancing down, she held out the sides of her navy blue sailor dress. "All I need are golden ringlets and a lollipop," she muttered.
He frowned, his confusion plain. "Why would you need those?"
"Don't tell me you've never heard of Shirley Temple?" Paige stared at him in disbelief.
"No. Who is she?"
"You really don't know?" He shook his head.
She explained to him who the actress/ambassador was as she slipped on her shoes. "We need to get going or we're going to be late."
"Maybe if we are, they'll reschedule your testimony." Walter stepped aside so she could waddle out of the bedroom.
"I doubt it," she said, inhaling deeply. The President was testifying first, via a live feed from the White House. Then it was her turn. A fact Walter had been vehemently against. But no matter how much he argued he should go first, the prosecutors had stood fast. They wanted to make a good first impression on the jury, and Walter. . . Well, he was an acquired taste, just like his fermented fish.
"I don't like it," he grumbled.
"I know, sweetie." She straightened out his already straight collar and tie, then put her hands on his shoulders, smiling as he relaxed a little. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."
"We may not be able to see each other for hours." Worry reappeared in his eyes. "What if you need me?" He reached out and touched her belly.
She raised herself up on her tiptoes, sliding her fingers up his neck and into the curls brushing his shirt collar. His eyes widened as he slipped his arms around her, dropping his gaze to her lips. "Walter, I'll always need you," she murmured as he lowered his head.
"Mom!" A small growl escaped Walter's throat as her son's frantic voice interrupted their kiss. "I spilled some milk!"
She groaned her own displeasure. "Some probably means half the jug," she said with a sigh. After giving Walter a quick peck on the mouth, she pulled away. "Everything's going to be okay," she reassured him.
She could tell by his expression he wasn't convinced. And to tell the truth, neither was she.
ooooo
Walter realized he shouldn't have turned down Cabe's offer of a Homeland escort the moment he and Paige arrived at the federal courthouse. Not only was the lot nearly at capacity, the front entrance of the building was littered with reporters and camera crews.
"Oh, God." Paige's panicky words drew his attention, and he took in her pale countenance and frightened eyes. Grasping her hand, he gave it a squeeze.
"There has to be another way in," he suggested before opening his car door.
"There's probably news people stationed there too." She was biting her lip as tears threatened to spill.
With a deep sigh, he exited his Malibu and walked around the rear of the vehicle to her side of the car. She held out her hand and he helped her out. "This is my fault," he said. "I should have realized we would encounter a media circus, considering the President is involved."
"I think it still would have been newsworthy without him." A little sob escaped her as she glanced up at him, and he could see how unnerved she was. Probably because he felt the same way. Sliding his arms around her, he awkwardly patted her back in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
"We'll get through this," he declared. Whether or not they'd be unscathed was entirely a different matter. Giving her one last caress, he pulled back. "Ready?"
Paige gave him a wobbly smile as she reached for his hand. "As I'll ever be."
They made their way across the parking lot, unnoticed until they were about a hundred meters from the courthouse. The pressure on the hand Paige was holding increased as microphones and cameras were thrust into their faces. Walter tried to carve a path through the press while simultaneously shielding her from the barrage of questions, most of the which seemed to be directed at her, and mostly about her pregnancy.
"Miss Dineen? When are you due?" "Who's the father?" "Is it true you're not sure who's the daddy?" "Is it a boy or a girl?" "They say it was consensual." "When are you two getting married?"
Beside him, Paige tensed up for a moment before making a misstep and stumbling. Grabbing her arm, he kept her from falling as a microphone clipped him in the chin. A twinge of pain shot through his barely healed back when he was shoved from behind. "Just ignore them," he whispered into her ear, wrapping one arm around her and using the other to ward off the news teams.
His breathing and heart rate both accelerated as the mob of journalists kept closing in around them, shouting in their faces, jostling them, touching them. . . He could hear Paige whimper as she clung to him, could see the fear in her eyes. His brain was in danger of shutting down, unable to process the almost feral enthusiasm of the reporters. Someone pushed him again, knocking him off balance, and he turned to confront them, his fists clenched. . .
"Homeland Security! Back off, or you'll be charge with witness tampering."
Relief filled Walter as the familiar bark of Cabe's voice boomed out over the crowd. The agent, followed by another man also wearing a dark suit and sunglasses and flashing a badge, pushed their way toward him and Paige.
"You two, follow me," he instructed as the other agent circled behind them, clearing enough space they could climb the courthouse steps unimpeded.
"You really can't arrest them for witness tampering, can you?" asked Paige, looking over her shoulder.
"No," the older man grinned, "but they probably don't know that." He gave Walter a nudge. "Come on, trial starts in a few minutes. Don't want you guys to get charged with contempt."
Cabe and the other agent ushered them inside the building, down a long hallway to an elevator. As they waited for the car, Walter turned to the Homeland agent. "I should have accepted your offer to escort us," he said, glancing at a still shaken Paige. "I had no idea they would hound us like that. Come to think of it," he began as he narrowed his eyes at Cabe, "why haven't they been bothering us before now? We're not exactly hard to find."
The agent cleared his throat, and Walter caught a glimpse of guilt in his eyes. "Because there's been a round-the-clock detail staking out the garage. . .and the condo."
"Why would there be a need. . ." Paige's words trailed off as she must have reached the same conclusion Walter had.
"We've been threatened, haven't we?" He stared at Cabe, daring the older man to contradict him.
"Yes," the Homeland agent stated unflinchingly. "An indirect but credible one. It was thought best you weren't informed unless they become more overt. You were still recovering from your rocket ride and she's. . ." He gestured toward Paige's pregnant belly. "You both need less stress in your lives, not more."
Paige let out a horrified gasp. "Oh, God, what about Ralph?" It's his first day of. . ."
"There's been a team assigned to his school." Cabe patted the liaison on the shoulder. "He'll be all right, kiddo. Well, as all right as. . ." Whatever he'd been about to say was interrupted by the arrival of the elevator.
Walter's lips tightened with both anger and concern as he stepped onto the lift. He didn't like being kept in the dark, especially when it came to protecting Paige and Ralph and the baby. The thought any of them could have been injured, or worse, because he didn't know they were in danger. . .
Paige's soft hand uncurled his fisted fingers before giving them a squeeze. He looked over at her, and she smiled at him, a smile he guessed was suppose to reassure him but fell short of the mark. The rest of the ride to the third floor was quiet except for the whine and clanking of the elevator.
They were ushered into a room across the corridor from the courtroom. "Mr O'Brien, Ms Dineen, so glad you could finally grace us with your presence." The federal attorney, Ms Lee, greeted them in a tone Walter was fairly certain was sarcastic.
"Sorry," he mumbled, vaguely aware there were other people in the room.
"I thought I instructed you two to arrive separately."
"No, you said you thought it would be a good idea if we did," Walter pointed out. "Driving two cars would have been inefficient, not to mention bad for the environ. . ." Paige whispered his name as a warning, so he let his explanation dwindle down to silence.
"Listen to me carefully," the attorney said, narrowing her gaze at them as they sat down. "As of this moment, no discussion of this case nor your testimony will be permitted. If you need to use the facilities, you will be escorted by a bailiff. All cell phones will be turned off and turned over to the bailiff." She droned on, going over information she'd already imparted during their witness prep.
Walter squirmed in his seat. It was like being trapped in school all over again, with too many constricting rules and regulations to follow. Except now he didn't have to worry about getting beat up by bullies at lunch, the stakes were much higher. He had a family to protect, it wasn't just about him anymore.
He heard his name at the same time Paige nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "Yes?"
"Repeat back what I just said." She twisted her lips smugly, thinking she'd caught him not paying attention.
He grinned back just as arrogantly. Her triumphant expression slowly dissipated as he reiterated her instructions word for word. She'd obviously never dealt with someone with an eidetic memory before.
"That's enough," she stated, cutting him off before he could finish. Consulting her notes, she withdrew a piece of paper and placed it on the table. "You'll be called to testify in the order listed here."
Ms Lee scanned the room. "We have an airtight case against these defendants. Convicting them should be a slam dunk," she announced, and Walter grimaced at the sports analogy. "Anything less than guilty verdicts on all counts will be unacceptable." She rested her eyes on Walter as she spoke. "Do not screw this up."
With that, she marched out of the room, closing the door behind her. Walter glanced over at Paige, who was looking back worriedly at him. He reached out for her hand, needing her touch to calm him.
He wanted the militia members put away as badly as Ms Lee did. Maybe even more so. They weren't a threat to her happiness like they were to his. He had no intention of screwing up and letting any of them walk free.