Vanishing Acts

Chapter 20

The Truth Comes Out

Judge Young had scheduled the hearing to start up again at nine o’clock the next morning. Madison, Jake, Mrs. Shelby, and her sister walked into Judge Young’s courtroom shortly after court started. The district attorney was examining a policeman. Hamilton was taking careful notes, but the sound of the door opening made him and his client glance over their shoulders. Mark Shelby looked at his wife, returned his attention to the front of the room for a nanosecond, then leaped to his feet.

“It’s her!” he yelled. “It’s Ruth.”

Judge Young pounded her gavel. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Mr. Kincaid, get your client under control.”

Mr. Shelby turned toward the judge. “That’s my wife, Your Honor. She’s not dead.”

Judge Young, the DA, and everyone else in the courtroom stared at Ruth Shelby. The judge recovered immediately.

“Are you this man’s wife?” she demanded.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Ruth Shelby answered, clearly embarrassed by the attention she was receiving.

Judge Young smashed her gavel angrily. “This hearing is in recess. Bailiff, get the parties and that woman into my chambers immediately.”

When Madison and Jake slipped into the judge’s chambers behind Mrs. Shelby and Sarah Tucker, they found Madison’s father and his client, the DA, the judge, a court reporter, and two deputies from the jail. Hamilton, who was sitting beside Mark Shelby, looked very upset.

Shelby jumped to his feet. “Where have you been?” he shouted. His face was scarlet, his fists were clenched, and every muscle in his body was knotted.

“Control your client, Mr. Kincaid. One more outburst and I’ll have him cooling his heels in a jail cell.”

Hamilton stood up and put a restraining hand on his client’s forearm.

Sarah stepped between the Shelbys and stared angrily at her brother-in-law.

“Ruth has been hiding from you, Mark, because of the way you treat her.”

“I spent time in jail. I was arrested.”

“And you deserved everything you got,” Sarah said. Then she turned to Judge Young.

“My sister ran away because Mark hit her. And it’s not the first time. I told her she should tell the police she was alive after Mark was arrested, but she wanted him to suffer awhile so he would know how scared she is every time he loses his temper.”

Hamilton looked at his client. “Is this true? Did you hit your wife the morning she disappeared?”

Mr. Shelby broke eye contact and looked at the floor.

“Sometimes I lose my temper,” he mumbled. Madison could tell he was embarrassed to admit what he’d done.

“Not only is that no excuse,” Judge Young said, “but hitting your wife is a crime—it’s assault. You’re angry that you had to sit in jail, but you could have gotten a much longer jail sentence if Mrs. Shelby had complained to the police. Consider yourself lucky that she hasn’t had you arrested.”

“Where did all the blood in the kitchen come from?” the DA asked.

“I was cutting an onion for a Western omelet when we started arguing. When Mark hit me, I cut my finger. I was waving my hand around when he stormed out and the blood went onto the refrigerator, the floor, and the counter. I threw out the bloody onion and ran upstairs to put on a bandage. While I was upstairs, I decided I’d had it with Mark’s abuse and I packed and left.”

Mark raised his head, but he couldn’t look his wife in the eye. “I’m sorry, Ruth.”

“You’ve said you were sorry before,” Mrs. Shelby burst out, fighting back furious tears. “Then the next time you lost your temper you forgot you were sorry. If you don’t want me to press charges, you have to take anger management classes.”

“You’re right,” Mr. Shelby said. “I should have to prove I’ll really change. I’ll sign up tomorrow, first thing. I swear. I never meant to hurt you. Believe me.” For the first time, Madison thought he seemed genuinely contrite. “I don’t know what gets into me sometimes. And you got your point across. I was scared out of my mind when I was in jail, and I feel bad that I made you feel that way in your own home. I just want you to come back.”

“Well, I won’t. I don’t believe you’ll change. This last time was the final straw. I’m staying with Sarah and I’m not coming back.”

Mr. Shelby hung his head. “Why did you even come in and clear me now?” he asked his wife.

Mrs. Shelby turned toward Madison. “This young lady convinced me that it was the right thing to do.”

“How did you find Mrs. Shelby?” Judge Young asked.

Madison looked at Jake. He nodded at her, seeming to say, “Take it away,” so Madison told everyone about her investigation. When she came to the part where she’d tricked Mr. Shelby into letting her into his house so she could see the photograph of Ruth and her sister more clearly, Mr. Shelby said, “I thought I’d seen you before.”

Then Madison explained how she’d gotten the idea that Mrs. Shelby might be hiding after going to Prescott-Mather and learning that Ann hadn’t been murdered but was only hiding from her friends because she was embarrassed about her parents’ divorce.

A big grin appeared on Madison’s face when she finished her explanation by telling the judge how she and Jake had followed Mrs. Shelby’s sister. She was a hero, Madison told herself, and the reason she was a hero was because of her sleuthing abilities. Her father had to be so proud of her. Maybe she would be the greatest lawyer detective ever. She was certainly off to a good start.

Hamilton cleared his throat. “Did you pretend to have a cold so you could cut school and go to Prescott-Mather to look for Ann?” he asked.

Madison’s grin disappeared. “I had to, Dad.”

“And did you cut school today?”

“I had to,” Madison said again, hearing her voice sound a bit desperate.

“Did you ever think of telling me your idea about following Mrs. Shelby’s sister so I could put my professional investigator on Mrs. Tucker’s tail?”

“Well . . . no, but—”

“Or telling me last night about finding Mrs. Shelby?”

“You never take me seriously, Dad, when I try to help you solve a case. So I decided to prove to you I can help by showing everyone just what happened in court, like Max Stone does in his books.”

“I appreciate what you did for Mr. Shelby, but I’m grounding you for one week for cutting school and interfering in one of my cases after I specifically told you not to.”

“If I hadn’t snooped around, Mr. Shelby might have gone to prison for life.”

“That’s why I’m only punishing you for a week. But you have to learn that there are consequences for your actions.”

“I had to find Mrs. Shelby on my own because you wouldn’t have listened to me if I tried to talk about the case. You still think I’m a baby who doesn’t understand a thing you do, but I’m in middle school and I’m smart, Dad. I want to help you, and I think I’ve just proved that I can.”

Hamilton’s brow furrowed, and he took a good look at his daughter.

“I guess you did.”

“I can help you with other cases, too, if you’d just trust me.”

“I do trust you, Madison. And you’re right. I don’t give you enough credit. I promise to take your ideas more seriously from now on.”

“Are you still going to ground me?” Madison asked hopefully.

“Did you play hooky from school to go to Prescott-Mather and to come to court today?”

Madison colored and nodded.

“Then I have to ground you.”

“Can I go to soccer practice?” She knew everyone was standing around listening, but she had to find out.

Hamilton thought for a moment. Then he nodded.

“The first game is this weekend. Can I play in it?”

“Yes, but don’t expect to celebrate if you win. It’s home for you as soon as the whistle blows. And I’ll be there watching to make sure you behave yourself.”

Judge Young had been listening carefully to the exchange between Hamilton and his daughter. When she saw that the lawyer was done, she smiled at Madison.

“I agree with your father. Playing hooky is serious. And going into strangers’ houses is not a safe thing to do. But I also admire your brainwork. You showed great initiative, Madison. Maybe we can get you in here interning when you’re in high school—but just please promise me that you won’t put yourself in harm’s way again.”

The judge’s remark erased some of the sting of being grounded.

“I promise, Your Honor. Thank you,” Madison said, her brain whirling. An internship at the courthouse would be a fantastic step on her way to law school . . . or maybe her own detective agency? Jake punched her arm, as if to say “congrats.”

Judge Young looked at the district attorney. “Under the circumstances, Mr. Payne, I think a motion to dismiss is in order.”

The DA nodded his head. “I’ll do it right away, judge.”