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  PRAISE FOR CARA PUTMAN

  DELAYED JUSTICE

  “Delayed Justice will hold you to the end . . . A very timely story!”

  —SUSAN PAGE DAVIS, AUTHOR OF THE MAINE JUSTICE SERIES

  “Delayed Justice is a timely and compelling legal thriller that will have you turning the pages in search for justice. Putman packs an emotional punch and tackles tough issues head on while demonstrating God’s redeeming love.”

  —RACHEL DYLAN, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF DEADLY PROOF

  IMPERFECT JUSTICE

  “This is the way legal thrillers are meant to be—compelling, intelligent, and deeply satisfying.”

  —RANDY SINGER, AUTHOR OF RULE OF LAW

  “. . . a frightening yet compulsive reading experience.”

  —LIBRARY JOURNAL STARRED REVIEW

  “The second book in Putman’s Hidden Justice series is intricately plotted and thoroughly engrossing . . . This page-turner is smart, thoughtful, and appealing to readers who enjoy legal thrillers and solid mysteries.”

  —RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4 STARS

  “The hopeful ending will satisfy fans of romantic suspense.”

  —PUBLISHERS WEEKLY

  “Imperfect Justice is solidly written with great tension and a feminine-yet-tough heroine.”

  —CBA MARKET

  “A legal thriller that takes on a burning social issue and the role of faith and strength in meeting that challenge. Like all good storytellers, Cara Putman makes you care. She is at the top of her game with Imperfect Justice.”

  —JAMES SCOTT BELL, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF ROMEO’S RULES

  “Imperfect Justice tackles a gritty subject, and Cara Putman writes with finesse and delicate sensitivity. This legal thriller had me turning pages long after even lawyers have retired for the night, and the fine threads of romance and faith brought hope where often there is none. With a superior story of law and crime, the verdict is in: Imperfect Justice will stick with you long after you’ve devoured the last gripping page.”

  —JAIME JO WRIGHT, AUTHOR OF THE HOUSE ON FOSTER HILL

  BEYOND JUSTICE

  “With its menacing mood, crisp dialog, and quick pace, Putman’s action-packed legal thriller highlights a complex political scene. Starring a determined female attorney who will stop at nothing to resolve her case, this title will please fans of Joel C. Rosenberg and John Grisham.”

  —LIBRARY JOURNAL

  “Putman’s new legal thriller is exciting from start to finish. The author builds suspense throughout, and, just like real life, it’s not easy to distinguish the good people from the bad. This story is well thought-out and incredibly detailed. The author’s expertise shines through and adds a tremendous amount of credibility to the story. Danger, adventure, and intrigue pour from every chapter.”

  —RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4 STARS

  “. . . a relatable and fascinating story . . . Remarkably akin to today’s news headlines . . . a legal thriller that is intricately written to keep readers on edge.”

  —CHRISTIAN MARKET

  “John Grisham, move over for attorney Cara Putman! Beyond Justice showcases Putman’s deft hand with pacing and authenticity to create an unputdownable novel that kept me on the edge of my seat. I loved the peek into the workings of Washington’s political scene as well. Beyond Justice is a spectacular novel, and I highly recommend it!”

  —COLLEEN COBLE, USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  “Cara Putman’s legal background has definitely been put to good use in this nail-biter of a romantic suspense/legal thriller. The tension is gripping and the suspense rarely lets up. The story should come with a warning label: Expect high blood pressure and no sleep if you start this book. You won’t be able to put this one down until the very end.”

  —LYNETTE EASON, BESTSELLING, AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR OF THE ELITE GUARDIANS SERIES

  “Cara Putman’s expert legal mind shines in Beyond Justice as she weaves a gripping, suspenseful tale of intrigue that takes on one of the hardest issues of our time. Hayden McCarthy is one feisty heroine who doesn’t let anything get between her and the truth—no matter the cost—even if it’s her own life. John Grisham should watch his back!”

  —JORDYN REDWOOD, AUTHOR OF THE BLOODLINE TRILOGY AND FRACTURED MEMORY

  “Beyond Justice is a page-turning mix of action, mystery, and romance that wrestles with real-life issues. Cara Putman packs twists and turns into every chapter. I dare you to put this book down before you reach the end.”

  —RICK ACKER, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF DEATH IN THE MIND’S EYE

  “Cara Putman’s Beyond Justice is a great read featuring crisp writing, page-turning suspense, and a deeply satisfying ending. **Highly Recommended.**”

  —CARRIE STUART PARKS, AUTHOR OF A CRY FROM THE DUST AND WHEN DEATH DRAWS NEAR

  “Beyond Justice is a riveting read. I immediately connected with the heroine and devoured the pages of this legal thriller with many twists and turns, staying up way too late to finish the story. Putman is at the top of her game with this one—I recommend you don’t miss this one!”

  —ROBIN CAROLL, BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF THE ACCLAIMED EVIL SERIES

  OTHER BOOKS BY CARA PUTMAN

  Beyond Justice

  Imperfect Justice

  Delayed Justice

  © 2018 by Cara Putman

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.

  Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please email [email protected].

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Epub Edition September 2018 9780785217923

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Putman, Cara C., author.

  Title: Delayed justice / Cara C. Putman.

  Description: Nashville, Tennessee : Thomas Nelson, [2018]

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018020488 | ISBN 9780785217916 (paperback)

  Subjects: LCSH: Women lawyers--Fiction. | GSAFD: Christian fiction. |

  Mystery

  fiction. | Legal stories.

  Classification: LCC PS3616.U85 D45 2018 | DDC 813/.6--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018020488

  Printed in the United States of America

  18 19 20 21 22 LSC 5 4 3 2 1

  This book is dedicated to my family. Life has been

  quite the roller coaster this year, but I wouldn’t want to

  ride it with any other group. My heart belongs to you

  alone: Eric, Abigail, Jonathan, Rebecca, and Daniel.

  CONTENTS

  Praise for Cara Putman

  Other Books by Cara Putman

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18
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  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Acknowledgments

  Discussion Questions

  About the Author

  PROLOGUE

  TWENTY-ONE YEARS EARLIER

  It’s time to go, sweetie.”

  Jaime shook her head. Words collided in her throat, releasing in a squeak of protest.

  Her mother frowned, eyes shadowed by another sleepless night. She didn’t know that Jaime could hear her tossing and turning and crying through the small apartment’s thin walls. It was why Jaime had learned to sob into her own pillow, blanket pulled over her head.

  Her mother rolled her eyes, irritation tightening her mouth. “Jaime, I do not have time for this.” She glanced at her watch, then held out her hand. “Come on. We have to go now, or we’ll get caught in traffic.”

  Mommy hated traffic. She talked all the time about how the moment Jaime’s father’s tour of duty ended, they would move to a small town in Indiana and not fight traffic anymore. But for now she had to work at the hospital on these weekend overnight shifts.

  Jaime didn’t want to move to Indiana. It wasn’t home. But she did want to be as far from Uncle Dane as possible. Just thinking about him made dark spots swim in front of her eyes and her hands slick with sweat.

  She stomped her foot. “I’m not going.”

  “Jaime, you don’t have a choice.” Her mother’s voice carried the do-not-mess-with-me tone. The one that meant Jaime would lose something important unless she corrected her ways. Her lower lip trembled, and she bit down hard.

  “Can’t I stay with you this time? Please, Mommy.”

  Her mother met her gaze with sad eyes. “Honey, while your daddy is gone, I have to take these shifts. We need the money. We’re very fortunate your Uncle Dane is here to help. I don’t know how I could do this without him.” She sighed and brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen in Jaime’s eyes. “I need you to be my strong soldier until Daddy gets home. It’ll be better then.”

  Jaime saw tears welling in Mommy’s eyes. In her head Jaime was screaming, but she didn’t say anything aloud. She didn’t want to make her mother cry. So she picked up her pink, heart-covered backpack from the couch and slowly followed her mother to the door as a ball of heaviness settled in her stomach.

  CHAPTER 1

  TUESDAY, OCTOBER 2

  The October air held the bite of fall as Jaime pushed out a breath and entered the domain of the enemy. The Commonwealth’s Attorney’s offices in Arlington were located in a tall stone building near the courthouse Metro station just minutes down the road and across the Potomac from Washington, DC.

  She’d spent time on the opposing side of each attorney in the Commonwealth’s office. Would the person assigned to her for this conversation see her as the enemy as well? Or would the attorney be willing to dig deeper into the heart of Jaime’s conflict?

  She didn’t know, and that had her moving with hesitant steps.

  This appointment was her birthday present to herself. Rolling back two decades wouldn’t be easy, but it was time. She crossed the lobby and rode the elevator to the Commonwealth’s Attorney’s offices. Unlike the public defender’s office where Jaime worked, the walls here weren’t painted an industrial beige, but a calming robin’s egg blue. There was real carpet on the floor rather than cheap stick-down carpet squares, and the chairs for those waiting for an audience with the attorneys weren’t seventies relics with duct tape holding cracked vinyl together.

  How very different the resources were on the two sides of the criminal process. It was hard not to feel bitter. The only thing the public defender’s office had going for it was the dedication of the men and women who practiced there, serving those who needed an advocate.

  Now Jaime was on the other side, about to beg a prosecutor to believe in her enough to take a huge risk and launch an investigation that reached twenty years into the past.

  No small task.

  After giving her name to the receptionist, Jaime settled on the faux leather chair and glanced around, taking in the photographic images of courthouses located around northern Virginia and Washington. Jaime had litigated inside many of them. It was hard to think of herself as accessing one of those courts in the role of victim instead of the avenging defender. Her voice was her power, and now she had to trust someone else to take on that responsibility for her.

  A short, thin man with a five o’clock shadow on his jaw came into the waiting area and, after a quiet word with the receptionist, strode toward her. Mitch McDermott? They’d been opposing counsel in at least half a dozen low-level felony trials. If she’d known she’d have to talk to him first, she wouldn’t have come.

  “Hello, Jaime.” He stuck out his hand and shook hers firmly. “Good to see you. Let’s go to a conference room.”

  Jaime eased to her feet, a wave of confusion flooding her as she prepared to follow the man she’d battled one month earlier. “Did the receptionist tell you why I’m here?”

  “To join the right side?” When she didn’t laugh at his weak joke, he nodded toward the door. “Let’s head where we can talk.”

  “Okay.” This was even more uncomfortable than she’d imagined.

  She followed him through the door and down a hallway to a closet-sized room with a table and handful of chairs. This nonpublic part of the office looked more run-down and familiar.

  He held the door for her, then followed her inside, where he gestured to a chair. “Let’s sit, and you can explain what you’re doing here.”

  “I really would feel more comfortable talking with one of your female attorneys. Maybe Adrienne Ross?” Ross was a bulldog on cases like this, and the kind of prosecutor Jaime wanted in her corner.

  Mitch gave her a rueful smile. “You know how the system works. I’m afraid you get me.” He studied her closely, just to the point of awkward, and said, “Why don’t you go ahead?”

  This was not the way Jaime had imagined the scene, but what choice did she have? She sank into the chair and felt the rough fabric prick her legs through her navy slacks. She set her bag in her lap and pulled out a battered cloth-covered journal.

  “Here.” She slid it across the table to him. “This is a journal I kept as an eight-and nine-year-old. I know it’s not perfect, but it’s the best evidence I have. If you don’t believe what I wrote, there won’t be any point wasting more of your time.”

  “All right.” Mitch slid the book around and in front of him and opened the cover.

  “Start where I put the Post-it note.” She sat back and watched as Mitch frowned his way through her childish scrawls. She’d thought long and hard about bringing something so personal to this office, but she had few options.

  Watching him read the intimate thoughts of her younger self was excruciating. She had envisioned a woman in this role, someone who would understand and champion her.

  Could she trust Mitch McDermott to do that?

  Did she have a choice?

  The minutes dragged on. At least he was taking time to read it . . . or taking a nap with his eyes open, fingers flipping the pages every minute or so.


  Finally he glanced up at her, his light green eyes slicing through her. Laying her bare. “Jaime, this happened a long time ago. Why haven’t you acted before?”

  She had anticipated the question. “I’ve spent the last eight years in therapy, coming to grips with what he did to me and how it impacted me.” She rubbed her temple, wishing she could whip out her roller of lavender oil to ease the growing tension. “I’ve spent thousands on counseling, but it’s only in the last year that I’ve become strong enough to ask the Commonwealth to consider filing charges.”

  She was losing him. She could feel it, and her heart rate spiked. “There’s no statute of limitations, and I’ve recently been diagnosed with dysthymic depression. That gives us some fresh evidence of the harm.”

  “No counselor tracked back to the alleged abuse?”

  She sucked in a breath. “Alleged? Really? How would you feel if you poured out your experience to someone and they used that word?”

  “Jaime . . .” The way he drew out the word warned her to be careful.

  She took a deep breath. She knew it was his job to probe, but couldn’t he do it without the quirked eyebrow that communicated skepticism?

  “It’s an onion. One counselor peeled back a layer or two, then the next probed deeper, but it took years to get to the core.” She leaned forward, closing the space between them and willing him to understand. “This isn’t something I do lightly. It’s taken me years to gather my courage.” She met his gaze. “I don’t know that my uncle has abused anyone else, but if I remain silent, I’m tacitly allowing him to harm others.”

  “Was your mother aware of the abuse?”

  “No. I used to think she was, and I couldn’t understand how she allowed it. But I was a child, and I didn’t know how to explain what was happening. I’d throw a fit each time she took me to his house, but she thought I just didn’t like going away, didn’t want her leaving me.”

  “Never probed deeper?”

  “I didn’t know how to tell her.”

  And how she regretted that to this day. Would her teen years have been different if she hadn’t believed she deserved to be abused, and tried to fill the holes in her heart with one unhealthy relationship after another?