We all owe a heartfelt thanks to the men and women in every area of law enforcement who make these troubled times in our world safer for all of us.
I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I did writing it. I am very eager to read the first two stories in the collection now that they are completed. As you are curled up in the corner of your sofa turning the pages, know I’m doing the same right along with you.
Once again, I want to thank all of you for your continued support through the years and for the wonderful letters you take the time to write to me.
Warmest regards,
Chapter 1
J ennifer Anderson stopped in the hallway on the top floor of the courthouse and turned to look up at the very tall young man who had a camera balanced on his shoulder.
“Take a break, Sticks,” Jennifer said. “I’m going to attempt to make some sense of these notes of mine while I remember what the scribbling means. Meet me in the lounge down the hall in half an hour or so.”
“Yep,” Sticks said, then ambled away.
Jennifer entered the empty lounge and sank onto one of the chairs that surrounded a large rectangular table. She propped one elbow on the top of the table, rested her chin in her hand and closed her eyes.
Oh, gracious, she thought, she was sleepy. She’d like nothing better than to curl up on the lumpy-looking sofa on the back wall of the lounge and take a nap. If she allowed herself to relax for even three seconds she’d nod off. Just one…two…
Jennifer jerked and opened her eyes as she began to drift off. She patted her cheeks, told herself she was wide-awake and looked at the notes.
Next on the agenda, she thought, was to film the final footage of the documentary, which meant it was time to glue herself to District Attorney Evan Stone.
Evan, Evan, Evan.
Dear heaven, what would Evan do, say, if he knew that she…
“Don’t go there, Jennifer,” she mumbled. “Not now.”
Jennifer glanced at her watch, got to her feet, then smoothed the hem of her green sweater over the black slacks she wore with low-heeled, black shoes.
Okay, here I go, she thought. She’d put this meeting with Evan off for as long as she could, had filmed so much footage of police detectives, and secretaries and assistant district attorneys it was ridiculous. She’d been gathering her courage to see Evan again and be able to act pleasant and professional.
“I can do this,” she said, starting across the lounge.
“Do what?” Sticks said, appearing in the doorway.
“Oh. Listen, Sticks, just hang out in here for now. I need to find out if Evan Stone is available, then chat with him a bit about how we’re going to do this.”
“Whatever.”
“Fine. Okay,” she said. “I’m going down the hall to his office now. Yep, that’s what I’m doing. Right now. Bye.” Jennifer didn’t move.
“You’re acting weird.”
“I am not,” she said, indignantly. “I’m…mulling over how to begin my conversation with Evan. He wasn’t exactly receptive to this idea of a documentary on the inner workings of the district attorney’s office, said D.A. being him. We ironed out the wrinkles three months ago, but there’s no telling how he might feel about it weeks later.”
“Ah, go for it.” Sticks set the camera on the table. “Charm the socks off the guy.”
“Right,” Jennifer said, then stepped out of the lounge and into the hallway.
At that exact moment the door to Evan’s office at the end of the corridor opened and a plump young woman emerged, leaving Evan framed in the doorway as she walked away.
Oh, my, Jennifer thought, there he was. There was Evan about a hundred feet down the hall and it appeared as though he was staring directly at her.
Feet. She had to move her feet, put one in front of the other, and produce a nice friendly smile at the same time. She could do this. No, she couldn’t. She was going to turn around and hightail it out of there, never to be seen again.
“Get a grip,” she said, under her breath, and started forward.
There she was, Evan thought, as he watched Jennifer approach very slowly. His heart was beating like a bongo drum, damn it. And was that…? Yes, it was. There was a trickle of sweat running down his chest. Where in the hell was this nonsense coming from?
Evan cleared his throat, causing Belinda Morris, his fifty-two-year-old secretary, to turn and look at him questioningly, then shift her gaze to what he was staring at.
“Oh-h-h,” Belinda said, smiling. “So the time has come. I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with Jennifer Anderson already. She’s delightful. You could be a gentleman and meet her halfway, you know.”
“What’s gentlemanly about that?”
“Well, you’re standing there like the king of the hill, or something. It would be a tad warmer, more friendly, if you at least gave the appearance of welcoming her to your office, indicate that you’re delighted to see her again. You did tell me it had been three months since you made her acquaintance.”
“I’m not delighted to see her again,” Evan said, in a loud whisper. “I’m in the middle of a very important, high-profile case that is about to go to trial, if you’ll recall, and I don’t have time for this documentary stuff.”
But here comes Jennifer Anderson, he thought. She was getting closer, and closer and…
Jennifer covered the remaining twenty feet separating her from Evan, then stopped, immediately switching her gaze to his secretary.
“Hello, Belinda. How are you?”
“Fine, just fine. And you?”
I’m falling apart by inches, Belinda, Jennifer thought. I didn’t know it would be this difficult to see Evan again but…
“Hello, Jennifer,” Evan said quietly.
Jennifer drew a steadying breath that she hoped wasn’t noticeable, then slowly turned her head to meet Evan’s gaze.
“Evan,” she said, hating the squeaky little noise that was passing itself off as her voice.
“Did you want to see me?”
“Yes, if you’re free,” she managed to say.
“Come in,” he said, stepping back. “Belinda, please hold my calls.”
“You betcha, boss. Just close that door and I’ll make certain that no one disturbs the two of you…sir.”
“You can be replaced, you know,” Evan said, pointing a finger at her.
“Don’t be silly. You couldn’t run this office without me. Go right on in, Jennifer.”
Jennifer walked past Evan, catching the faint aroma of his woodsy aftershave. She heard him close the door behind him, the quiet click seeming more like an explosion. Sinking gratefully onto one of the chairs facing Evan’s desk, she crossed her legs, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.
Evan went around the desk and sat down on the butter-soft leather chair. His office was large, boasting a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Bookcases lined another wall and a grouping of a love seat and two easy chairs was off to one side.
How was it possible, he thought, that Jennifer was even more lovely now than she had been three months ago before she left for California on that assignment?
Her shoulder-length black hair seemed to glisten, those incredible green eyes were sparkling emeralds, and there was a radiance about her, a glow, or some such thing. Oh, for crying out loud, Stone, knock it off.
“I hear you’ve been busy around here,” Evan said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen.
“Yes. Yes, I have.” Jennifer nodded. “Sticks and I…Sticks is my cameraman…have filmed a great deal of footage here in the courthouse and over at the police station. Everyone has been very cooperative, which certainly makes my job easier. Yes, it certainly does.
“We filmed the empty courtroom downstairs where the case you’re taking to trial soon will be held. I thought that might have a dramatic effect. You know, show the empty jury seats, the judge’s bench, the table where the defendant will sit, what have you, with an over-voice to emphasize that while that room is silent now it will soon hold many people and a man’s future will be decided within those four walls.