Page 2 of Regards, Mia

Harrison glances up distractedly and nods.

Threading my way through the crowded tables, I make my way outside. The sidewalks are full of people celebrating First Friday, and it’s hardly any quieter outside than it was inside the busy restaurant. At the end of the block, I duck into a side alley between the old brick buildings and dial my boss.

It doesn’t matter that it’s seven o’clock on a Friday Night, Jordan Adler is at work. As District Attorney for Azalea County, he keeps even less conventional hours than I do.Although it isn’t unusual for him to call on a weekend, I feel a rush of worry before he picks up. Hopefully, he’s just lost track of time and this isn’t an emergency situation.

“Mia.” Jordan says my name in two long syllables, dripping with honeyed charm. “Thanks for calling me back.”

“No problem.” A chilly blast of air sweeps in from the sidewalk, and I shiver. I’d been so eager to get away from the table, I’d left my jacket on the back of my chair. “What’s up?”

“I’m afraid it’s not good news.”

Huddling against the side of the building for warmth, I run through all the cases I’m juggling, cataloguing every possible disaster. One case stands out in my mind. I can’tafford bad news about Warner Mattson. The case is already hanging by a thread. I will Jordan to say any name but—

“It’s Warner Mattson,” Jordan says.

“Fucking hell. Mother fucker.”

“Mia.”

I wasn’t done with my litany of fucks, but I bite my tongue. My skin crawls at the sound of that lowlife’s name. A snake disguised as a southern gentleman, Warner Mattson is worse than despicable. He’s one of the good old boys, whose family name means more than any pile of money ever could and he’s been getting away with shit his entire life.

“What happened with Mattson?”

Jordan pauses for a long moment, then lets out a frustrated sigh. “We have to release him.”

My fist clenches and unclenches, and my entire body tightens. The cold has nothing on the angry red heat sparking in my chest.

“Elena Rogers is an unreliable witness,” Jordan says. “It’s not a strong enough case.”

A burning sensation radiates up my chest to my throat. “Elena is not unreliable.”I bite out each word as if saying it slowly will make Jordan realize I’m right.

“She’s got a record.”

“So?”

“We’ll lose,” Jordan says.

“Without Elena, there is no case. Warner Mattson will get away with harassment and rape.”

“We’ll get him, Mia. A man like Mattson is bound to screw up again.”

The thought doesn’t comfort me. “You mean another victim.”

Jordan doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “My hands are tied,” he says finally.

My throat feels thick with unsaid words. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why Jordan wants to cut Mattson loose. It’s an electionyear.

“It’s your call,” I say, my mind already whirring with ways to get Mattson.

“I owed it to you to hear it from me directly,” he says. “Sorry to ruin your night.”

A dull ache pulses through my head. “It’s fine.”

Jordan laughs at the flat tone in my voice. “Date with the accountant not going well?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “He’s not an accountant.”

“Medical sales?”

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