Chapter 31 #2
“Good luck, counselor,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.
He stepped past them, his shoulder brushing hers—a brief, hard contact that sent heat skittering down her spine—and walked out.
The door clicked shut, leaving the room smelling of his citrus aftershave. Typical Reid—cocky enough to know exactly what he’d done and shameless enough to enjoy it.
Eleanor stood there, her hand still tingling, her face still on fire, while the silence in the office stretched thin enough to snap. She could feel Deck’s gaze drilling into the side of her head, and Burke’s pointed, overly-focused interest in the file on his desk.
Lord, lord, she thought, closing her eyes for a split second to find her center. I am in so much trouble.
Beside the filing cabinet, Scout let out a sudden, muffled sound—half-cough, half-choke—as he shoved his fist against his mouth to keep a laugh from exploding. He turned his head away, his shoulders shaking with the effort of staying professional.
Burke didn’t even try to hide the smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth. He looked down at the Simms file, but the amusement was clear in the way he shook his head, his eyes crinkling as he watched his friend and the county's most stubborn lawyer nearly set the carpet on fire.
Finally, Burke cleared his throat, reclaiming the room. He motioned toward the empty chair, his voice dropping the amusement for a tone that was all Sheriff. “All right. Counselor, sit please."
Eleanor sat.
Deck took the seat beside her, still looking like he wanted to subpoena Reid’s intentions.
Burke liked them together more than he probably should. That was the problem...
In another town, maybe it would have been simple. A district attorney and a defense attorney. Two people smart enough to know better and stubborn enough not to care.
But not here. Not now.
Not with David Mercer sitting in the middle of it like a lit fuse.
As Burke began to speak, she adjusted her blazer, a sharp, private satisfaction flickered through the embarrassment.
Reid was good—he was the best—but he wasn’t the only one who had done some dismantling forty-eight hours ago.
She remembered the way his composure had shattered when she’d dragged her nails across his chest. No amount of courtroom polish could make her forget that she was the one who had held the match.
Eleanor exhaled slowly and turned back to Burke.
“All right,” she said. “What’s going on?”
Burke folded his hands on the desk.
“I’ll get straight to it.”
He looked at her evenly.
“We’re reopening the Caroline Simms investigation.”
The words settled over the room like something long buried had been dragged back into the light.
Eleanor had expected it, but hearing it said out loud still tightened something in her chest. Caroline had been gone eight years; this was the first time the case had felt truly alive to her.
She nodded once.
“I assumed that might be the case.”
Scout leaned forward slightly.
“Between the podcast attention and the calls coming in, it’s time we took another look.”
Burke continued.
“We’re reviewing the entire file.”
Eleanor kept her voice calm.
“And what does that mean for my client?”
Burke met her eyes.
“It means we’d like to speak with David Mercer again.”
Deck remained still beside her.
Scout added, “Another interview. Clarify a few things that have come up publicly.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I’ll speak with him.”
Burke inclined his head.
“That’s all we’re asking right now.”
Deck glanced between them.
“Reopenin’ an eight-year-old case is a tall order.”
Burke didn’t argue.
“We know.”
Deck leaned back slightly.
“Aye.”
The conversation briefly touched on scheduling and logistics—nothing investigative, nothing specific. The mechanics of a case coming back to life.
A few minutes later, Burke stood.
“That’s all for now.”
Eleanor rose.
Deck stood beside her.
They stepped out into the hallway.
After a few steps, Deck glanced sideways at her.
“Lass…”
She kept walking.
“Yes?”
He grinned.
“Ye were blushing. Hard.”
“The room was hot, Deck.”
“Aye, it was. About four hundred degrees and wearin’ a three-piece suit.”
“And if that lad Calloway looks at a jury the way he just looked at you, he’ll be winnin’ every case by sheer indecency. I thought he was goin’ to eat ye right there in front of the Sheriff.”
“Deck, stop.”
“Aye,” he grinned, completely unbothered. “Stop I will. But I’d keep a fire extinguisher in your briefcase from now on, Nell. Just in case.”
Deck chuckled.
She tried not to smile.
But she failed.
And under the warmth of it, the weight of what Burke had told her pressed in—Mercer, Caroline, the podcasts circling like vultures.
Whatever this thing with Reid was, it was about to collide with something bigger than both of them—
a missing woman, a grieving town,
and the man she’d agreed to defend.
Eleanor’s thumb traced the edge of the folder in her hands, the paper sharp against her skin. For the first time since David Mercer had sat across from her conference table, she felt the uneasy sense that the ground beneath his story was beginning to shift.