Chapter Two
Reggie watched while the petite woman in front of her hefted her big bag onto the conveyor belt, certain the contents were going to trigger a search. Why would anyone carry a bag that big into the courthouse anyway, especially after what had happened a few months ago. Anyone who barely even watched the news knew about the shooting and the enhanced security that came after.
“Sorry for holding up the line.”
The woman tossed the comment over her shoulder, looking back long enough for Reggie to see her flushed cheeks and her brow furrowed into a contrite expression. Okay, no matter how annoyed she was to be standing in this line, she didn’t have to be an asshole. She pointed at the bag. “If you have anything in there that’s likely to set off the alarm, you’re going to want to take it out and put it in one of those trays.” She pointed at the dog food bowls that served as the catchall for watches, electronics, etc. that might trigger the metal detector.
“Thanks.” She tugged a tablet out of her bag and shoved it into one of the bowls and set it on the conveyor belt.
“First time here?” Reggie asked. The woman was attractive and now that she’d started talking to her, she may as well go all in.
“That obvious?”
“I’m a trained observer.” The woman flinched slightly at her words, but the motion registered large on Reggie’s radar. She’d hit a nerve. For all she knew, this woman, beautiful or not, might be a defendant in one of the cases being tried this morning. Petite, late twenties to early thirties, business casual except for the very large bag that screamed new mommy or traveling salesperson. Her first guess was potential juror, but that was probably wishful thinking. She could be here for any number of reasons: witness, defendant, consultant, lawyer. Only one way to find out for sure. “What brings you to the courthouse today?”
There it was—the flinch again. Reggie doubted anyone else nearby would’ve noticed it, but she was clear about what she’d seen, and this woman would rather be anywhere else but here, and she really, really wanted to know why.
No, you don’t. You’d just rather be playing detective than be stuck in this building listening to the work of some other investigator who probably didn’t do as good of a job as you could.
The woman glanced around furtively. “Jury duty.” She whispered the words, and her voice was tinged with anxiety.
Reggie smiled encouragingly. “Me too. Sucks, right?” She looked around to make sure no one else was in earshot, and deciding it was safe to be honest, she added, “And a total waste of time since no one’s going to let me on their jury.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, and Reggie instantly regretted the overshare. Before the woman could ask any questions, she backed away and pointed toward a crowd of people across the lobby. “I see someone I know. It was nice to meet you.” She turned before the woman could reply. Of course, she had to meet an attractive woman at the courthouse—the last place she wanted to be.
She cut through the crowd waiting for the elevators and slipped into the stairwell. Judge Aguilar’s courtroom was on the seventh floor, a climb she used to scale with ease, but today she was winded when she emerged into the hallway. Damn, she was more out of shape than she realized. She took a moment to catch her breath before entering the DA workroom just outside of the courtroom. Lennox Roy rose to greet her. “Hey, Reggie. I knew you couldn’t stay away for long.”
“As if.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the jury summons. “Pretty sure this is the only thing that could bring me back here.”
Lennox took the paper, skimmed the first few lines, and laughed. “Like anyone’s going to let you on a jury.”
“That’s what I said. You think Judge Larabee would get rid of this for me?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t waited until today. They’ve got lots of cases teed up and ready today and with the Benton trial starting, they’re going to run short on jurors. Plus, you know how he is.”
She did. She’d been Judge Larabee’s court coordinator for years and seen him shrug off tons of worthy excuses for not being able to serve—way better than her simple “don’t want to be here” offering. His theory was everyone should serve on a jury at least once in their lives and with a scarce pool to pick from, it wasn’t the day to test his resolve. “Guess I’m doomed to be here until lunch then.”
“Maybe they’ll cut you loose on a mid-morning break. Have you taken your exam yet?”
Lenox had been the one to suggest private investigation work might be a good next career. She’d get to use many of the skills she’d honed at the courthouse but set her own schedule and decide what cases she wanted to take on. Control, or the semblance of it anyway, was her primary focus, and she’d do whatever she needed to do to get back to it. “The exam’s in two weeks. I’ll be ready.” She waved the summons in the air. “Assuming this doesn’t trip me up.”
“Well, at least you know you won’t get picked for the highest profile case starting today.”
“True.” She stared hard at Lennox, trying to get a read on her mood. “You okay?”
“I’ll be glad when it’s over.” She reached over and clasped Reggie on the arm. “You will be too.”
At that moment, the door to the workroom flew open and Wren, Lennox’s girlfriend, burst in. “Hey, Reggie.” She stopped and gave her a hug before slipping an arm around Lennox. “You doing okay?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because the man who tried to kill us all and set Lennox’s brother up to spend twenty years in prison is finally going to get what’s coming to him.” She hunched her shoulders. “Maybe my feelings are still a little raw on the subject.”
Reggie rubbed her arm while Wren spoke. It was phantom pain—she knew as much, but it didn’t mean the memory of the day a shooter opened fire in the courtroom only steps away didn’t burn as much. She’d known Harry Benton’s trial was starting today, but she blocked it from her consciousness. He hadn’t pulled the trigger, but he was as responsible for sending her life spiraling down a different path as much as the gunman who’d burst into the courtroom last fall, and she still couldn’t process how that made her feel.
She shook her head. Now was not the time to start getting gushy about it—her constant mantra and the one keeping her focused enough to start her new career. She just had to get out of here first. “I’m good.”
“And she’s here for jury duty,” Lennox said, “So no tainting the pool with your inflammatory proclamations.”
Wren laughed. “As if anyone would believe I’m in here pushing a prosecution agenda.” She was the rising star in the public defender’s office and passionate about protecting the rights of the accused. “Besides, no way would Reggie wind up on Benton’s jury. Even his attorneys aren’t that dumb.”
“I’m counting on not winding up on any jury.” Reggie pointed at her watch. “Every minute here is time away from studying for the exam.” She looked at the time. “Have you seen Judge Aguilar? I’ve only got a few minutes before I have to be downstairs, but I figured I’d say hello.”
“She’s got a hearing on a bond motion this morning, but I’ll let her know you’re here. If you get a chance to stop by before you leave, I’m sure she’d love to see you.”
“Will do.” Reggie hesitated a second before turning to leave, an invite to grab a beer at the end of the day on the tip of her lips, but Lennox’s face was back on her files and Wren was deep into negotiations with one of the other prosecutors in the workroom. In a few minutes, they’d all be in the courtroom for hearings, pleas, and other business, none of which she had a part in anymore. It had been her choice to leave, but standing in the thick of it, she couldn’t help but wonder who she was now and if she’d made a colossal mistake.
* * *
The elevators were crammed, smelly, and slow, and Brooke wished she were anywhere but this place. Or that she were more like her boss, Lydia, a woman secure in her job and confident enough to toss a jury summons in the trash like it was another offer for a better cable rate.
But she wasn’t Lydia. She was a broke, single mother slash college student, desperate to make a good life for her son which, above all things, meant keeping him alive.
She reached into her bag and let her fingers trace the edge of the envelope delivered the evening after she’d received the ominous phone call. The thin envelope contained a card decorated with letters cut out from magazines, serial killer style. His life depends on you. More to come.
Creepy yes, but mostly terrifying. She’d carried it with her at all times since it had appeared, determined to keep Ben from seeing it, while vacillating about what to do about it. This was the point in the movies when all the viewers thought the person being blackmailed, ransomed, or threatened in any way should go straight to the cops and then issued a collective groan when the “hero” decided to go it on their own. She was no hero, but she wasn’t dumb either, and the voice on the phone hadn’t been messing around. Whoever it was knew things about her. Things that were personal and private, and if they had taken the time and trouble to know those things, they could make good on the threat to harm her son.
“You should take the stairs.”
She whirled around, startled at the voice breaking into her thoughts. It was the woman from the security line. The very attractive, very friendly woman. Brooke stiffened. Maybe a little too friendly. Was this woman following her? Was she an innocent bystander or was she the in-person eyes, working on behalf of the guy on the phone? “What are you doing here?”
“Excuse me?”
Damn. Now this woman was going to think she was crazy. She ran her fingers over the card in her bag. She might very well be crazy, but if she was going to make it through this ordeal she needed to pull herself together. “Sorry, you surprised me.” She looked around. “And I’d definitely take the stairs if I knew where they were.”
The woman motioned over her shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.” She took a step, paused, and looked back. “I’m Reggie, by the way.”
“I’m Brooke. Nice to meet you, Reggie, tour guide to jurors everywhere.”
“Let’s not get carried away.” Reggie grinned. “I’ll start with you and see how it goes.”
Her friendly manner was infectious, and Brooke decided to trust her. For now. She followed her through the throng of people, down the hall to a nondescript door, but when Reggie held it open for her, she hesitated.
“What’s the matter?”
So many things, most of which had to do with the dangers of following a stranger through an unmarked door in an unfamiliar building, but saying any of those things out loud felt even more dangerous. Her thoughts scrambled to find something innocuous to say and she blurted out the first thing that surfaced. “Are you supposed to wear jeans for jury duty?”
Reggie looked down at her clothes and back again, wearing the grin from before. “Probably not, but I don’t plan to be here for long today.” She motioned to the stairs. “Are you coming?”
Brooke wanted to ask what Reggie meant about not being here long, but caution told her not to engage, no matter how much Reggie’s calm and steady presence tempted her to shed her worry. She glanced back over her shoulder and made a split-second decision. If Reggie was teamed up with whoever it was that wanted her here so desperately, they wouldn’t do anything to keep her from the courtroom where she’d been assigned. And if Reggie was nothing more than a kind person offering to help her out, then following her up a few flights of stairs wouldn’t hurt anyone. “Lead the way.”
A few minutes later, they emerged onto the sixth floor and threaded through another crowd of people to stand outside the courtroom. Reggie exchanged a few words with the uniformed officer standing by the door who then handed them each a clipboard and pen.
“Hold onto these until we call your number,” he said.
Brooke skimmed the questions on the clipboard and her heart started to race. She had to wind up on this jury, but she’d had no guidance about how to answer the questions to ensure that would happen. She looked around as if the answers might miraculously appear in the faces of the other people waiting, but the only person who made eye contact with her was Reggie, and her smile, while strangely comforting, didn’t tell her what she needed to know.
She took a deep breath and started writing. She’d tell the truth and hope for the best.