Page 42 of Trial Run

She hadn’t planned to, partly because she had no appetite despite skipping dinner the night before, and partly because she’d hoped to run into Reggie if she continued to pace the hallway. Both reasons were dumb. She would never make it through the afternoon if she didn’t eat, and wherever Reggie was, she wasn’t interested in joining her. Mark wasn’t the company she wanted, but listening to him jabber was better than playing back all the stewing thoughts in her head. “Sure.”

A few minutes later, they were in Mark’s car headed down Riverside Drive. While Mark focused on the road, Brooke looked around the car and rubbed her hand on the supple leather interior of the BMW. “Nice car,” she said.

He glanced over and smiled like he was proud of himself, but all he said was “thanks.”

Brooke fished around for something to talk about, but she wasn’t interested in small talk, so when Mark brought up the trial, she didn’t try to steer him away from the subject.

“Do you think Shirley’s going to take the stand?”

She hesitated, leery about whether this was some kind of ethics test, but eventually she gave in to the desire to break down their experience. “Good question. What do you think?”

“I kind of think she will. She’s a tough person, but she’s not going to like the fact all these people are trying to make her out to be some kind of weakling who has to pay people off to get her way.”

Brooke replayed his words in her head, trying to figure out what he’d said that bothered her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about the case, but I’m finding it fascinating how many contractors think theyhave to pay off city officials to get anything done. I’m not sure I’d last long in their line of business.”

“It’s the way deals are done,” he said as if it was nothing. “Might not be how I prefer it, but if everyone’s on board, what’s the harm?” He pulled into the parking lot in front of a row of food trucks and stopped the car.

She stared at him and he stared back. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“It’s no different than consensual sex.”

“Okay, now you’ve lost me.”

“Two people doing whatever they want to be happy—might involve some play that I wouldn’t find appealing but doesn’t matter if it’s not me doing the deed.”

And he’d suddenly made the whole thing sound even more sordid. “Yeah, not making the connection there. What two people choose to do in the privacy of their home is a lot different than conspiring to break the law.”

“I guess so.” He pointed to the food truck. “You hungry?”

She wasn’t really, and hadn’t been since last night, but it seemed weird to say so now that they were here. “I could eat something.”

They ordered sliders and Mark insisted on paying despite her initial resistance. Truthfully, she was grateful not to have to shell out for lunch, considering she was feeling the pain of not working this week. She’d hoped after the break-in at Shirley Mitchell’s house last night that the trial might get delayed or canceled altogether, allowing her to pick up some shifts, but apparently nothing was going to derail the proceeding.

They picked up their food and sat at one of the picnic tables by the truck. Mark tucked into his meal with gusto, but Brooke’s first bite tasted like sandpaper and she nibbled around the edges to be polite.

After a few minutes of awkward small talk, Mark said, “I don’t think she’s guilty.”

Brooke stared at him for a moment, watching him wipe his fingers carefully on a napkin and feeling a bit like she was being tested. “Is that right?”

“Yes. The people who’ve testified against her all carry grudges for one reason or another. Seems to me like they all decided to make her the target to avoid being in trouble themselves.”

“So, you think she didn’t do anything wrong, and she’s being set up?” Brooke fought hard to keep her tone neutral. She shouldn’t be letting herself get sucked into this situation in the first place, but now that it was happening, she needed to watch what she said.

“Of course. Isn’t it perfectly clear?”

“I don’t think anything is perfectly clear,” she responded, keeping her voice low. “Besides, we won’t be making any decisions until after we’ve heard all of the evidence and discussed the case as a group.”

He smirked. “Right. Got it.” He placed a finger over his lips. “The case will be decided by a jury of Shirley Mitchell’s peers after careful deliberation.”

He rolled his eyes as he spoke, and the singsong lilt of his voice set off alarm bells in Brooke’s head. What had seemed like garden variety social awkwardness now came off a bit more sinister, and she was ready to be back at the courthouse with a crowd of people to serve as a buffer. She opened her mouth to say she was ready to go, but Mark’s phone rang and, after glancing quickly at the screen, he stepped away to take the call.

While he was gone, Brooke looked at her own phone, half expecting a missed call or at least a text from Reggie, but there were no messages of any kind. It was silly of her to expect Reggie to reach out when she’d been the one who’d pushed her away, butshe couldn’t help but wish she’d pushed for a pause instead of a full on break between them.

“We need to go,” Mark said. He gave his phone a final look and shoved it into his pocket.

She shoved aside her plate of barely eaten food, too grateful to be heading back to the courthouse to ask why he was in such a hurry all of a sudden. Maybe once they got back, she’d find a moment to have a word with Reggie, explain away her actions, and ask for a chance to start again when this trial was over.

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