Page 10 of Trial Run

“I guess so.”

Reggie shrugged. “I bet someone at school has one he can use.”

“It’s important.”

The emphatic tone in Brooke’s voice signaled the forgotten text was about more than math. “I know I keep asking you this, but is everything okay?”

Brooke stared at her for a moment before her expression settled into what Reggie was certain was a fake smile. “Sure. It’s all good. I’m sure I’m overreacting.”

“Maybe you’re not.” Reggie looked at her phone. “But there’s not a lot you can do about it right now. Judge Hunt is a stickler for punctuality, so we better get going.” She stood back to allow Brooke space to get out of the car. “I like your ride. These babies never wear out, do they?”

“No, thank God. I don’t know what I’d do if I had to add getting a new car to my to-do list.”

Reggie took the opening and ran. “I guess you have a lot on your plate.”

Brooke shot her a cautious look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Uh-oh. “Well, yesterday, in court, you said you work full time and carry a full load at school. And you have a teenager.” She gave a low whistle. “Sounds like a lot to me.” She stoppedin front of the elevator on the other side of security. “This one is tucked away from public view so it’s an exception to the elevator rule.”

“Twelve.”

“What?” Reggie was confused at the non sequitur.

“My son is twelve. Not a teenager.”

Reggie nodded, taking note of the forceful tone. “Got it. You have a twelve-year-old son who’s taking Calculus. I’m thinking that sounds like even more of a handful than I originally thought.”

Brooke stared at her for a moment and then laughed. “You know, you’re exactly right about that.”

The elevator doors opened to reveal several passengers already on board. They stepped in, but didn’t continue their conversation and Reggie instantly felt the loss and wished she’d chosen the stairs instead. When they stepped out onto their floor, they walked to the courtroom in silence, as if neither one of them knew how to rethread the strings of their discussion.

Leroy was standing at the door of the jury room and when they passed by, he whispered to her, “You know better than to be late. Judge is already on the bench.”

“Sorry,” she whispered back. She wasn’t really, considering the delay had allowed her to find out more about Brooke. She told herself her curiosity about this woman was professional practice, but she knew it was more than that. Brooke was more than a study of human behavior, she was a troubled woman.

It’s none of your business.

It wasn’t, but she wanted to know more and, if telling herself it was practice for being a good PI made it easier to justify poking around, then she was good with that.

She filed into the courtroom with the other jurors, disappointed that Brooke was sandwiched between Jenny and Lisa while she was stuck on the back row. Resigned to the fact she’d have to wait until lunch to talk to Brooke again, she settled in tohear more boring testimony from Patricia Gillespie. Two minutes in, her expectations were shattered.

“Tell the jury why you went to the police about your boss, Shirley Mitchell.” Johnny Rigley fired off the command and leaned back in his chair.

“Because she threatened to harm my family.”

Johnny abruptly stood up and started walking toward the witness stand. He cupped a hand to his ear. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Shirley Mitchell said she would harm my family if I didn’t do what she asked or if I reported her business practices.”

Johnny turned toward the jury and slowly surveyed their faces. Reggie had seen this maneuver before from just about every lawyer at the courthouse and recognized the theater for what it was. The silent emphasis on the witness’s words was definitely effective. Every juror in the box was riveted on Patricia, and eager to hear more.

Except for Brooke. It was almost imperceptible, but she was squirming in her chair and her gaze was not on Johnny or Patricia. For a brief second, their eyes locked and Reggie raised her eyebrows in question, but Brooke’s only response was to look away. Reggie filed the event away for further inspection, but in the meantime, she turned her attention back to the front of the room, waiting for Patricia’s next words.

“What exactly did Ms. Mitchell say to you?”

“I’m not sure you want me to repeat the exact words.” Patricia looked up at Judge Hunt.

“Actually, I do,” Rigley said. “I’m sure the judge has heard just about everything in this room. The most important thing is for you to be as accurate as you can about what you remember.”

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