Page 27 of The 1 Lawyer

So every time the jury looked at me, they would get a colorful reminder of the scene between me and Aurora Gates’s father in the form of my red and purple eye.

The ice in the bucket had nearly melted. I dumped the few remaining cubes into the sink and headed for a refill. When I flipped the lock and jerked open the door to my room, I found Carrie Ann standing in the hall. She looked startled.

After an awkward moment, she said, “I was just about to knock. I didn’t know if you’d be here.”

A barbed response came to mind, but I suppressed it.

She focused on my bruised eye, then lifted her hand as if to touch my face, only to slide it into the pocket of her shorts. “Looks like they weren’t exaggerating. That’s going to be a bad one, Stafford Lee.”

I leaned against the doorjamb. “You’re probably right. How’d you hear about it?”

“Marla, in the attendance office. Her brother’s the in-house investigator for the Biloxi DA.”

“Yeah, well. That’s a pretty good source.”

She backed up a step. “Were you heading out someplace?”

“No.” I lifted the ice bucket. “Just an ice run. For the eye.”

The hum of the ice machine was audible. Carrie Ann took the bucket from me and walked across the hall to the room marked VENDING.

She returned with the refilled bucket, and I took it. “Appreciate that, thanks.”

She dismissed my thanks with a wave of her hand. “Just checking on you. The way people talk in Biloxi, you never know what to think.”

Condensation from the icy bucket dripped onto the carpet. “I need to set this down. You want to come in?”

She peeked around me, looking into the room. What she thought she’d find, I couldn’t guess. “You’re probably busy working. I don’t want to bother you.”

“I’m drafting a brief, but I don’t mind taking a break. Come on in.”

When she crossed the threshold, I let the door swing shut. “Take a seat,” I said. I stepped over to the particleboard dresser and set the ice bucket next to the coffeemaker. An arm’s length from the rumpled bed, an upholstered chair—the room’s only seat—was positioned under the window.

Carrie Ann sat down, looking ready to bolt.

“Nice of you to come up here just to see if I’m okay.”

Her face flushed. She toyed with her wedding band, twisting it on her finger. “I was heading in this direction anyway. There’s a scrimmage tonight at the high school. Varsity against JV.”

“What?” I couldn’t keep a note of skepticism out of my voice. “You want to sit in the bleachers in September? Football wears you out even after the temperatures drop. Who tricked you into coming out for a practice game?”

She glanced out the window, looking irate. “I’m an administrator now. My responsibilities are different than they used to be.”

My phone hummed. Carrie Ann said, “You gonna answer that?”

It lay on the bedspread by my iPad. The screen displayed Jenny’s name. I was in trial, so I couldn’t ignore a call from my investigator. I picked it up. “Hey, Jenny. Can I call you back in a minute?”

“No problem,” she said.

I hadn’t even ended the call before Carrie Ann was out of the chair and digging in her purse for her keys.

“Hey! No need to go. Sit back down. We have to talk, Carrie Ann.”

“You’re busy. It’s obvious.” She spoke in a clipped tone, the one she used when I did something that hurt her feelings.

“I’m not too busy for you. Damn, Carrie Ann, we need to have a conversation. It’s way overdue.” I reached out. “Come on, sit back down.”

She jerked her arm away so I couldn’t touch her. “Oh, please, don’t play me. I’m not stupid.”

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