Page 76 of Brazen Criminals

“Help with what?”

She looks up, forcing me to meet her gaze. “With Bryce. I’m not ungrateful for what you guys are doing, but I need to help. I can’t just sit here while you guys take all the risk.”

I take a breath, remembering we’re in a fucking diner. “You want to help?” I ask, trying to stay quiet.

Clara nods, waiting.

“When was the last time you started a rumor?”

“I’ve never started a rumor.”

“What about blackmail? When was the last time you blackmailed someone?”

She chews on her lip, no longer meeting my eyes.

“What about break into someone’s house? Hack their computer? What about the last time you put a target on your back, hoping that some creep will take a swing?”

Her eyes flash at mine. “I’ve been doing that every day since I broke up with Bryce.”

I roll my eyes, polishing off the last of my food. “We’ll do what we do best. You do school and running and, I don’t know, being a goody-two-shoes so you can get into the fucking FBI.”

I bus my dishes, not looking at Clara. She’s got to be steaming, but there’s a time for fire and a time for caution. I’m not the best at knowing which is which, but I’m learning, and this isn’t the time for fire. Not by a long shot.

I grab a second frou-frou coffee and bring it back to the table. “Call the lawyer,” I say, setting down the drink. Glancing at the time, I figure if I jaywalk, I might be punctual. I sprint across the street as my phone buzzes.

An unlisted number.

When’s the next game? I’m getting antsy.

I stop just inside the door to the building.

I’ll message like always. Don’t contact me this way again.

I quickly delete the message stream and send a new one to RJ, asking him to make sure that the records are as clean as possible. Fucking amateur.

And now I’m two minutes late. Today is officially even worse than I imagined. Great.

Chapter 38

RJ

Thecollarofmydress shirt is too tight. I should have tried it on before coming to the courthouse, but it fit the last time I wore it. Now that I think about it, though, that was probably two years ago.

Trish said the pink looked classy. I have no way of knowing if she’s right, but it was clean, and Ithoughtit fit, so I figured it was fine.

Placing my laptop bag on the conveyor belt to go through the x-ray machine, I feel the eyes of multiple cops on me. I’m here to support a friend, but I can tell they are firmly convinced I’m guilty. Of what? I guess to them, it doesn’t matter.

After a very thorough search, I get my bag back from the security guard. I’m about to head up the elevator when my name’s called from the security line. Emma’s waving from just past the metal detector, her pink hair in some fancy wreath around her head. I wait for her, anxious to be upstairs with Clara, not wanting to do small talk with Emma, but knowing it would be rude to leave.

She rushes up to me, a nervous smile on her face. “Hey, we match,” she says, motioning from my shirt to her hair.

I smile and nod, then hit the up arrow for the elevator.

“Do you think we’ll have to talk? Give testimony or anything?” she asks once we’re on the elevator, tugging a bit on the blouse she’s wearing, making sure the buttons go straight down the middle.

“I think we only have to if Bryce is a sympathetic guy,” I say, leading us toward the courtroom Trips texted us.

“What do you think will happen to Trips?” Emma asks.

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