Chapter Seven
“Mom, are you still in bed?”
Brooke’s eyes shot open and she scrambled to sit up. The sheets were twisted, her pillow was on the floor, and the textbook for her marketing class was lying open on the comforter, pages crinkled around the edges. Yes. Yes, she was still in bed and apparently, she’d fallen asleep while studying for her next exam. She flipped her phone over and stared at the time. Eight a.m.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Ben was late, she was late, and she was totally screwed. “I’m up. I’m up. Be right out! Meet you in the kitchen.”
She knew that he knew she was lying, but she didn’t have time to worry about it. If things were normal, she’d stick him in the back of an Uber so at least he’d be on time, but recent stranger danger kept her from taking that route.
She jumped in the shower, rinsed off, and stood in front of the mirror, glad she had long hair since it gave her options. She tossed in a messy up-do, threw on some powder and blush, and shimmied into pants and a sweater, hoping they matched. She slipped on loafers, grabbed her purse, and dashed into the kitchen, but Ben wasn’t there. After calling out his name several times, she searched the apartment, but he was nowhere in sight.
Her phone pinged to signal a text. Got a ride with Mia from Calc. See you later.
Mia from Calc? She racked her brain for a memory of him mentioning any girl, let alone one named Mia, before, but couldn’t come up with an instance. His calculus class was at the local high school which meant Mia was at least two years older, maybe more. She clicked on his number and waited impatiently through the rings.
“Hi, Mom. It’s all good. I’m with Mia.”
She was certain she heard an echo on the line. “Am I on speaker, Ben?”
The echo instantly disappeared. “Not anymore.”
“Who’s Mia?”
“She’s a sophomore in my Calc class. Very smart. She’s in mathletes.”
“And she just happened to be around to take you to school today?” Brooke knew she probably sounded ridiculous, but she pushed on. “I told you I’d take you.”
“You have to get to the courthouse. I get it. Mia and I were texting about the assignment anyway and she offered.”
“Where are you?”
“We’re pulling up to the school right now.”
“Text me Mia’s last name and number so I have it in my phone. And tell her I said thanks. Text me when you get inside. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom,” he said with only a hint of a sigh.
She waited for his text, saved Mia’s number in her phone, and headed to her car. Ben was fine. A fifteen-year-old sophomore wasn’t going to corrupt her kid, and she was thankful he’d been resourceful enough to have a backup plan since she’d failed miserably at being a good mom this morning. The best thing she could do today was show up at the courthouse, do what she was told, and put this entire episode of her life behind her so she could focus on graduating from school, getting a good job with regular hours and benefits, and spending more quality time with Ben.
When she pushed through the door to the jury room, Leroy gave her serious side eye, but she knew for a fact she was exactly on time. She spotted Reggie standing on the other side of the room and started to walk toward her when she remembered her instructions. Don’t mingle with the other jurors. She’d already blown that, but if she could get through the rest of this trial without breaking the rules, then she’d be free to talk to Reggie all she wanted. And she wanted to a lot.
“Let’s go, everyone,” Leroy said. “Judge Hunt wants to pack as much into today as possible, so everyone needs to keep a close eye on the time during breaks and lunch.”
Brooke nearly rolled her eyes at the remark which was clearly directed at her, but she dutifully fell in line with the rest of the jurors. Reggie managed to line up right behind her and whispered in her ear.
“Don’t mind him. He’s all bluster. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to toss you off the jury for being a few minutes late.”
“Like that would be a bad thing.” Brooke wanted to bite back the words the minute she said them in case there was anyone in the room spying on behalf of mystery man. “Just kidding. I’m happy to serve.”
Reggie gave her a puzzled look which she ignored. She knew her pendulum mood swings sounded crazy, but she was feeling pretty crazy, so it tracked. They filed into the courtroom and took their seats.
The next few hours consisted of bone-dry testimony about financial reports. The forensic expert for the prosecution gleefully described a series of debits and credits that, in his words, showed a pattern of deceit tied to hiding funds paid to public officials for several development projects, but all she heard when he spoke was a bunch of blah, blah, blahs that made her head spin. The judge skipped the morning break, and by the time they stopped for lunch, she had a massive headache. Lisa and Jenny asked if she wanted to join them in the cafeteria, but she made an excuse about needing to get some air and left the jury room on her own.
She spotted Reggie ducking into a courtroom down the hall and wondered if she was going to visit some friends from when she’d worked there. Brooke couldn’t remember the last time she’d hung out with friends. Since she’d started school, she’d no free time and everyone had gotten tired of her breaking plans at the last minute on a regular basis either because she had to work, study, or be around for Ben. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to hang out with them, but one day, not that long from now, she was going to need to be able to pay for the kind of college Ben deserved and it wasn’t going to be cheap. Couple that with being a single parent and there wasn’t any free time to spend hanging out with pals.
She dug in her purse and seized on a granola bar that was likely out of date, but sustenance enough to mean she could forgo the cafeteria in favor of going outside for some fresh air. She took the stairs down to the lobby and walked out the front door, enjoying the light breeze and the warmth of the sunshine on her face. She wandered around for a bit and settled on one of the steps off to the right of the entrance—a perfect place for people watching. At this time of day, there were more people leaving than arriving and she found herself guessing whether things had gone their way by the way they walked and the expressions they wore. She’d evaluated the fifth person and was fully caught up in the game when she heard a voice to her left that caught her attention.
“Because it’s Shirley freakin’ Mitchell. She goes down and we’ll all be right behind her. Do I really have to spell what happens next?” A moment of silence and then, “Exactly. Stick with the plan.”
Brooke didn’t hear anything after that, and she casually turned her head to see if she could tell who’d been talking. She spotted several people standing in various places on the steps on their phones. Two of them had their backs to her and the third was a woman. She eliminated the last since the voice she’d heard was deep and masculine and turned her attention to the others. She mentally willed the two men to turn around, but neither did and a few minutes later one of them walked toward the garage and the other into the courthouse. She considered following one, but reason stopped her. What would she do if she caught up to them? She hadn’t seen the face of the man who’d accosted her in the parking garage so she wouldn’t know if it was the same person, and even if she did, what would she say? “I remember how you threatened me, and I heard you on the phone just now talking about Shirley Mitchell.” So what? She didn’t know what the plan was the man had been referring to although she suspected the threat against her might be part of it. But there was no real proof—only her gut telling her the conversation she’d heard was important. What was she going to do about it?
* * *
Harry Benton’s trial was in full swing, complete with a packed gallery of spectators and press cameras crowded into the last row. Reggie’s attention was drawn to the jury first, partly out of sympathy, but mostly in relief. Shirley Mitchell’s was fairly high profile, but her trial wasn’t as headline-grabbing as this one. These jurors were being scrutinized by all of Dallas.
She spotted Skye Keaton in one of the rows toward the back of the room and Skye waved her over, making room next to her.
“I didn’t think you were going to show up,” Skye whispered.
“I didn’t make a special trip for it. I’m stuck in jury duty up on seven. Hunt’s court.”
“Shirley Mitchell’s case?”
“That’s the one.” Reggie glanced around. “It’s a pain, but not a circus like this one.”
“Shirley didn’t show up at a judge’s house threatening to ruin her life.”
“True.” Reggie stared at the back of Benton’s head and then at the cop on the stand. “How’s it going?”
At that moment, the judge called a recess for lunch, and everyone stood while the jurors filed out of the room, but most of the spectators stayed put, likely afraid they’d lose their seats if they wandered off.
“Slow. There’s been a lot of breaks and jury selection took forever. They’re just now laying the foundation for what happened at Judge Aguilar’s place. I’m sure once they get to hers and Franco’s testimony things will start to get interesting,” she said, referring to Judge Aguilar’s girlfriend who’d shown up in the middle of Benton’s threats on the judge.
“How did you get out of testifying?”
“Franco can handle my part. The ADAs are trying to keep it lean and mean. They feel like if they keep the evidence related to the threat on Aguilar, they’re more likely to get a conviction. They can throw in other stuff during punishment or save it for another trial. The end game is to put him away forever, but if for some reason he gets off on this charge, jeopardy will not have attached to other possible charges.”
Reggie knew enough about the law to recognize the strategy made sense. “How long do you think it will last?”
“I figure they’ll wrap up testimony by the end of the week or early next. The real question is how long it’ll take for the jury to deliberate.”
“Speaking of juries, I better get back to mine.” Reggie started to stand up, but Skye motioned for her to stay seated. “You give any more thought to my offer?”
She’d shoved Skye’s offer to the back of her mind the moment she’d heard it. Most new PIs would jump at the chance to work for one of the top private detectives in Dallas, and since Skye was often hired for high-profile cases and didn’t have any other investigators working for her. Reggie would get to work on lots of interesting cases. But they’d all be criminal since Skye didn’t take what she called silly civil disputes. She’d be back at this courthouse on a regular basis, interviewing defendants and witnesses and testifying in court. Exactly the opposite of what she wanted, which made the conversation a nonstarter.
“I can’t do it.”
Skye’s smile was indulgent. “You can. I know from experience that if you don’t get back up after a bad experience, it can keep you down for good. You think you’re making a good choice for yourself by taking a new course, but you’re headed in the wrong direction. You’re cut out for this, not that silly stuff you’ve convinced yourself is harmless. It will eat your soul.” She stuck out a hand. “Call me when you change your mind.”
Reggie was replaying Skye’s words when she walked back into the jury room in Hunt’s court so lost in thought she almost ran into Brooke who was entering at the same time. She backed up so Brooke could go in first. “After you.”
“Do we have to?” Brooke said.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Reggie followed her into the room. “I wanted to go downstairs and get a snack, but I ran out of time. I bet a million dollars they leave us kicking around in here for another thirty minutes.”
“Seems to happen a lot.”
“True. What did you do with your free time?”
Brooke looked flustered at the question, and she didn’t answer right away. “You don’t have to tell me,” Reggie said. “I was just making conversation. I went and checked in on another trial that’s going on here this week.”
“And here I thought you didn’t want to be at the courthouse anymore. Can’t get enough?”
“That one’s personal.”
Brooke’s eyes widened. “Is it the guy who shot you?”
“The guy who hired the guy who shot me and several others—Harry Benton. His trial isn’t about that, but it may be the only satisfaction any of his victims get. The DA is prosecuting him for threatening a judge—the woman I was talking to in the cafeteria the other day. It’s kind of confusing and I’m not sure I really get the strategy, but I don’t have a say in it.”
“That sounds frustrating.”
“I try not to think about it too much.”
“Yet, you looked in on the trial. How’s that going?”
“About as riveting as this one.”
Brooke reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I hope the guy goes away for a very long time.”
Reggie had barely warmed to the touch when Brooke let go. The movement had happened so quickly, she would’ve thought she’d imagined it, but the effect of her touch lingered. Protective, sweet, thoughtful. She’d needed the connection more than she realized. “Thank you.”
The rest of the day went surprisingly fast. Rigley called a succession of witnesses whose testimony was quick and to the point. The theme was simple: Mitchell had a history of seeking favors from local officials, and often skirted close to the line between influence and bribery. Gloria punched back at each of the prosecution witnesses in an attempt to imply that her client had engaged in the same kind of behavior anyone with business was expected to if they wanted to get anything done. The back and forth went on the rest of the day, and when the judge finally recessed for the day, Reggie could hardly believe it was already five o’clock.
She ran into Brooke again as they were leaving the jury room, and they walked to the garage together. They were almost there when she mustered the courage to say, “I don’t suppose you’d like to go for ice cream again.”
“Twice in one week?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s a long shot. Besides, you don’t look like the kind of woman who indulges on that level.” She didn’t even try to hide the fact she was flirting.
“You’d be surprised.”
Was Brooke flirting back with her or was she so out of the game, she didn’t know the difference? “So, you’re in?”
“I can’t,” Brooke said, looking genuinely disappointed. “I promised my son I’d help him with a project. Not that I understand half of what he’s studying. But I do make a mean flash card.”
“I’m sure you do more than that.”
“Lots of moral support if that counts for anything.”
Reggie flashed back to her conversation with Skye. “It does. Trust me, it does.”
Brooke pointed to her car. “Guess I better go.” She lingered for a moment before she opened the door like she wanted to say something more, but after a moment of silence she waved and said, “See you tomorrow.”
Reggie kept walking and resisted looking back. Brooke had a lot going on and so did she. The bubble of jury duty might make it seem otherwise, but she had no business trying to start something with anyone while she should be studying for her exam and starting her new career, let alone a woman with a young son, a full-time job, and a college degree in the balance. Flirty ice cream dates be damned.
She got into her Jeep and was driving out of the garage when she spotted Brooke’s car still parked with Brooke behind the wheel looking like she was about to cry. Without thinking, she pulled over into a space nearby, walked over, and rapped on the window. Brooke cracked the door.
“Is everything okay?”
“He won’t start.”
“He?”
“The car’s name is Seth. We’ve known each other a very long time.”
“He seems to have served you well. Do you have AAA?”
“I barely have enough money to pay to get out of this parking garage, so no. And before you ask, I’ve done all the usual things. I know his quirks, and this is something new.”
“Okay.” Reggie suppressed the urge to ask her specifics. Brooke clearly knew her own car better than anyone else and would be insulted if she acted like she was the expert here. “What would you like to do?”
“I guess I better get an Uber home.”
“I know something cheaper than an Uber.” She pointed to her Jeep. “How about I give you a ride and we can figure out your car tomorrow. I bet Leroy has some extra parking vouchers sitting around that he can give you to keep you from racking up a big bill.” She watched Brooke glance furtively around as she struggled with whether to accept her offer.
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem.” Reggie held open the door and waited while Brooke gathered her things.
“You’re sure it’ll be safe here?”
“Yes. They have a night guard that patrols both garages. It’s as safe as anywhere in Dallas.”
A few minutes later, they were on their way to Brooke’s house. It wasn’t a flirty ice cream date, but Reggie was happy to have the time alone with her and suddenly cared a whole lot less about all the studying she had left to do.