Page 112 of Defend Me

The case files are all piled up, along with my own notes. I go through the list of people who were awake that morning. It’s only a handful of names. I call each one again, asking if they remember seeing anything—if not Noah then maybe at least his car—that might be of any help.

I strike out on all of them and slump back in my chair. I need a drink.

I leave the blue study and grab my coat from the front hall. The parlor is decorated for Christmas, mocking me with its cheerful lights, the tree perfectly trimmed.

Noah could be in jail by the time the holiday rolls around.

I find Alex in a small front study. “Can you drive me to the Crooked Screw?” I ask.

“Certainly, Ms. Von,” he says, folding up his copy of the Magnolia Bee. I catch a glimpse of the headline:Second Day of Testimony in Everton Murder Case. I don’t even want to know what Everly Harris is going to write about the FBI witness.

I whip out my phone and text Grayson.

Meet me at the Crooked Screw.

I’m at the bar with a very dry martini in front of me when Grayson arrives.

Christmas music plays softly through the speakers and the whole place is trimmed with holly and evergreens. Twinkling lights line the windows and cheerful conversation surrounds me, amplifying my own anxiety.

“Hey,” Grayson says, sliding onto the stool next to me. “Why the long face?”

“We’ve got nothing, Grayson. I can’t prove Noah wasn’t there that morning. Not without Patrick.”

“You did an exceptional job with the sheriff.”

I shrug and take a sip of my martini. “I’m worried that FBI guy fucked us.”

Jake comes over and Grayson gestures at my drink. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he says. Then he turns to me. “You’ve done the best you could with what you have to work with. You’ll put Dale on the stand and hope that’s enough.”

“It’snotenough,” I say. I stare at the olive, skewered on a toothpick in my glass.

“Good thing is, you’ve got lots of ammo for appeal.”

My head whips up. “Noah can’t go tojail, Grayson. I…” My throat closes up and my eyes itch. “I can’t let that happen,” I say softly.

“Ah,” Grayson says. “So that’s what this is about.”

I blink. “What?”

Grayson raises one eyebrow. “You think I haven’t noticed the vibes between you two? The looks? The sexual tension so thick I could cut it with a knife?”

“What?” I yelp, sitting up straight.

Grayson chuckles. “You, my darling, fierce, warrior goddess may be an exceptional actor but alas, your boy toy is not.”

“He’s not my boy toy,” I hiss.

“He has been looking at you with stars in his eyes since…probably a week into his stay at your place. That man has fallen and fallenhard. And since you weren’t trying to slice him into fillets when he gave you said starry eyed gazes, I could only assume—being the excellent and observant attorney that I am—that you were also smitten as a kitten. And then once we moved the operation to Magnolia Bay…” Grayson whistles.

“But…” I trail off, my heart pounding. How was I so unaware?

Of course, Grayson is right. I’m smitten. I’ve fallen hard for Noah.

He frowns. “You haven’t slept with him, have you?”

I grimace and take a big gulp of martini.

“Oh Von,” he says. “I thought it was just vibes!”

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