Page 33 of Trial Run

A few minutes later, Reggie pulled up to the courthouse steps. “No sense all of us walking from the garage,” she said as she stopped her vehicle.

“Fine by me,” Mark said, hopping out of the Jeep.

He reached back and held out a hand to Brooke, but she pretended to be fumbling for something in her purse. Finally, she looked up at him with a rueful expression. “Darn it, I really want my toothbrush, but I must’ve left it in my car. I’ll grab it and walk back over with Reggie. See you in a few.”

His smile faltered slightly, but he gave her a mock salute and walked away while Reggie drove toward the garage.

“He likes you.”

Brooke shifted in her seat. “No, he doesn’t. He’s just socially awkward. Besides, he thinks you like me.”

Reggie turned to look at her. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s jealous.”

Brooke felt the slow burn of a blush rise up her neck. “Maybe you’re being silly.”

“About what? That I like you or that he’s jealous about it.” She grinned. “Or both?”

Brooke laughed, partly relieved that the earlier tension between them had vanished and partly to mask the fact she wasn’t sure what to do with this new information. She’d sensed Reggie had feelings for her, but to hear her say it out loud was another thing entirely. The standard cacophony of thoughts started in—the ones that always bubbled up whenever something in her personal life wrestled for attention.There’s no space in your life for another person. You barely have time for Ben. When he’s older and you have your degree, you can have a life, but right now, you need to focus.

That’s right—stay the course, don’t deviate. She’d worked hard her whole life and this week had been the first time her focus had been derailed. Some of it she couldn’t control, like the jury summons and the threat from whoever, but she could control falling for a woman with whom she had nothing in common other than the brief circumstance of serving on a jury together.

Reggie parked her Jeep and took the keys out of the ignition. “Look,” she said. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. But after this is all over, if you’d like to go out sometime, I’d be up for that.”

Cool, casual, and easy. All she had to say in response was, “sure,” but Brooke couldn’t manage to make even a fleeting promise. “Thanks. We should go or we’re going to be late. Again.”

“Okay.”

Reggie jumped out of the Jeep. To any casual observer, she looked totally unfazed by the brush-off, but Brooke could see the tension back in her shoulders and a slight frown pulling at the corners of her eyes. She wanted to say something, but all she could think of was “it’s not you, it’s me,” and someonelike Reggie deserved more than a cliché. Instead she followed her in silence as they walked through the garage toward the courthouse. They hadn’t walked far when suddenly Reggie grabbed her with both arms and shoved her behind a large cement pole. She placed a finger over her mouth, shook her head, and pointed a few feet away. Brooke followed her gaze and barely held back a gasp.

Chapter Twelve

Reggie knew she shouldn’t be surprised to see Harry Benton near the courthouse, but she could hardly believe he’d be caught dead in a parking garage. Men like him had drivers who got them as close to doors as possible, so they didn’t have to mess up their hair or their clothes or mingle with the masses upon whom they’d built their fortunes. But more surprising than where he was, was who he was talking to—Shirley Mitchell—and their conversation didn’t look particularly friendly.

She inched backward with Brooke in her arms, determined to stay out of sight, but desperately wanting to hear what these two Dallas power players were arguing about. She whispered in Brooke’s ear, “Don’t move.”

“I won’t.”

Was she imagining Brooke pressing closer against her? She wasn’t sure, but her body warmed to the touch, nearly threatening to distract her from what was happening a few feet away.

“What are you up to, Harry?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Benton smirked. “Don’t you have a trial to get back to?”

“Don’t you?”

“I’m not worried about my trial. It’s going well. I’ve got a whole fleet of attorneys on my side. Could you only afford the one?”

“Gloria Leland is a bulldog. You should see her go after the state’s witnesses.”

“We’ll see how she does when you’re on trial for jury tampering.”

Shirley’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

He laughed. “Don’t try to play coy with me. I know you better than most. You and I are cut from the same cloth.”

“That’s what you’d have everyone believe, but I never needed to resort to threatening a judge to get my way. And what about your daughter, Harry? You know there’s no statute of limitations for murder, right?”

“Don’t act like you know things you don’t, Shirley. The feds are on to you. You may skate on this trial, but they don’t mess around. You keep your mouth shut and I’ll take care of you. You have my word.” He clasped her on the shoulder and his smile turned feral. “And if you talk? You have my word there will be consequences for someone you love. If you have any doubt, just ask the girl who we picked to be in charge of making sure you don’t go to the pen.”

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