Chapter Six #2
“It’s not been too bad.” Cynthia continued walking, and Seth followed her lead.
“Jeff travels a lot for work, so he’s gone more than he’s home.
I think that’s a big reason I couldn’t see our relationship advancing to marriage.
I want a partner, not someone I see ten days out of thirty.
Anyway, I found the perfect place and signed a lease.
I need to get my stuff out of Jeff’s house, plus the things I put into storage when I moved in with him. ”
“Need help? I’ve got a pickup truck and two capable hands.”
Cynthia perked up. “Seriously?”
“Absolutely. And I bet I can enlist Kerry’s help. We could strap a sofa on his broad shoulders.”
Cynthia giggled. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, thank you.”
Lyndhurst poked his head out of his office. Seth expected a scowl, but the prosecutor smiled in a way that made him feel like Tweety Bird squaring off against Sylvester. “I thought you two got lost. It’s serendipity that you showed up this morning because I wanted to talk to you as well.”
Serendipity? What kind of lawyer speak was that? And why did he care about the nature of Seth’s visit if he wanted to talk to him anyway? He decided not to waste energy on figuring out the man.
Lyndhurst shifted his attention to Cynthia, and his jovial smile melted into a frown. “You’ll make those phone calls for me first thing?”
She nodded stiffly. “I’ll start now.” Cynthia nodded at Seth before walking away.
“Come in, come in,” Lyndhurst said. “I think I’ve got a major development brewing with the Carsons.”
“I’m here to discuss them too.”
“You go first,” they said at the same time.
Lyndhurst grinned and gestured for Seth to go first so he didn’t skip a beat. “I assume Oliver Hawkins has contacted you about his podcast.”
The prosecutor furrowed his brow. “Isn’t that your ex-fiancé?”
Seth had hoped not to address that, but it seemed unavoidable. “Yes, but that’s not why I’m here.”
“I’m listening,” Tony said.
Seth made his case for a gag order as succinctly as possible, sticking to the biggest issues they faced, such as tainting the jury pool. “Surely, a judge will agree.”
“Already ahead of you, Burke.” Lyndhurst leaned back in his chair and crossed his wrists over his belly. “My team is already drafting a motion. If those assholes can flood the courthouse with filings, so can I.”
“What motions have the Carsons’ attorneys filed?”
“The delay I warned you about, plus a change of venue.” Lyndhurst sat up straight and placed his hands flat on his desk. His eyes shimmered intensely, and his cheeks turned ruddy. Was the guy having a cardiac incident? “But none of their filings will matter if my hunch is right.”
“What hunch?” Seth asked.
“I think Mick Carson is ready to make a deal.”
Seth narrowed his eyes. “You deduced that from a hunch?”
Lyndhurst’s answering smile became more Cheshire cat than Sylvester. Damn, that was a lot of teeth. “I have an inside source at the federal prison hosting the Carsons. Mick’s not in the greatest health and is showing signs of severe fatigue. He’s told people he doesn’t want to die in prison.”
“Mick said this to who?” Seth pressed, though he suspected the answer.
“During phone calls with his family.” Sensing his skepticism, Lyndhurst quickly added, “He knows the calls are recorded, so he’s pretty cagey about most things.
He doesn’t shy away from expressing his desire to get out of jail as soon as possible.
My goal is to strike a deal to avoid a trial.
If Mick rolls, then it becomes likelier Quinton will take a deal too. ”
“What do the federal prosecutors think?”
Lyndhurst shrugged. “Hell if I know. They didn’t share any of this with me, so I’m not inclined to discuss my plans with them.
I want to save the taxpayers’ money and move on from this blight on our county.
We’re both up for reelection, and this will be a feather in both our caps if we can wrap this up before then.
I don’t want the federal prosecutors to prevent me from talking to Mick Carson. ”
“Sounds like you have a plan.”
“Ole Judge McCready isn’t just going to kick the trial down the road without making sure that’s what the defendants want since they’re held without bail. They have a right to a speedy trial, and he’ll reiterate that to them. We don’t want them to walk on appeals by claiming ineffective counsel.”
“You think this or you know?” Seth asked.
The Cheshire cat returned. “Know. McCready has already told the attorneys their clients must be in his courtroom when he hears arguments. The feds will transport Mick and Quinton here for the hearing and take them back when it’s over. I’ll take a swing at him while he’s in our custody.”
“When?” One of his primary jobs as sheriff was overseeing the jails in his county. He should be the first person to know when a high-profile inmate was coming, even if it was only for a few hours.
“McCready’s clerk hasn’t picked a hearing date yet, but I’ll inform you as soon as the notice comes across my desk.” Ah, so he’d discussed the situation with Judge McCready over cards or fishing rods.
“Appreciate it.” Seth pushed to his feet and extended his hand. “I’ve taken enough of your time, Tony.”
“The pendulum is swinging in our direction, Burke. I can feel it.”
“I hope so.”
Seth tried to keep a tight rein on his emotions as he walked to the parking lot, but Lyndhurst’s enthusiasm was contagious. Maybe his buoyed emotions were to blame for calling Seth’s burner phone as soon as he was alone in his truck.
“Hello.” The silky, sexy voice turned his insides to mush.
“I figured out what you smell like.”
Rueben chuckled. “And what’s that?”
“The fabric softener that smells like sun-dried clothes.”
“You know my little secret, then. It reminds me of laundry day with my abuela. I got so embarrassed as a kid whenever she hung my underwear on the clothesline.”
Seth laughed. “My grandmother did the same thing. I loved the way my clothes smelled, but the fabric got too scratchy.”
“And stiff,” Rueben said. “Your sexy voice makes my dick as hard as my jeans got on the clothesline.”
The reference made Seth laugh. “I’m dying to see you again.”
“I still feel you whenever I move, but barely. I need a reminder.”
The rumble of an approaching truck drowned out Seth’s groan.
He looked in his rearview mirror in time to see a large red king cab truck slow down.
It sported red, white, and blue bunting along the sides and big magnetic signs that read “Martindale for Sheriff.” Amos extended his arm out the open window and waved at Seth as he drove by.
That not-so-subtle reminder should’ve doused his lust and steered Seth in the right direction. Instead, he returned his full attention to Rueben. “We’ve got to be smarter.” Like not calling Rueben on his secret phone in the middle of his workday.
“Yes, we do.” Rueben’s words were silky and sly.
“You have a plan.”
“Of course,” Rueben said. “I have a dental cleaning scheduled for Wednesday. Maybe I could detour to the cabin on the way back.”
Rueben had teed Seth up for drilling and filling jokes, but he didn’t take the bait. His need to see Rue was about so much more than sex. “Call me when you’re on the way. I’ll meet you there.”
“I will. I better go before someone comes looking for me.”
“Rue,” Seth blurted before he could disconnect.
“Yeah.”
“This isn’t just about sex.” Seth wasn’t ready to express what was really blooming between them.
“I know. It’s not for me either.”
Seth sighed. “We’re in really big trouble, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, but there’s no one I’d rather get in trouble with. I’ll talk to you tonight.”
“Bye, baby.”
Seth sat in his truck for a few minutes after they disconnected.
Martindale’s stupid truck rumbled by again, prodding him out of his fantasyland.
Yeah, the guy was gunning for his job, and Seth’s actions were making it easier for him to succeed.
But not today. I’m still the sheriff, asshole.
Seth rolled down his window and waved back, congratulating himself when he used all five fingers and not just the middle one.