Jury Town by Stephen Frey Page B

around his large frame. She could get used to this. And he’d claimed he was giving up younger women . . .
    “But that’s the point,” he continued. “We both beat the odds, and now money’s not the issue anymore. Now it’s about making the world a better place.” He leaned back, slipped both of his large palms to her face, and gazed down at her intensely. “You’re gonna win that senate seat in Washington, you hear me? You’re gonna be a United States senator. And I’m gonna do everything in my power to make that happen. Okay?”
    “Okay.”
    A thrill rushed through her chest as he leaned down toward her. She wanted him so much; she always had. Why was it that everything she wanted in the worst way could end up being so bad for her? Couldn’t anything in life be simple?
    “I’ve got another favor to ask of you, Trent. It’s a little more immediate.”
    “Anything,” he murmured, “anything at all, Angie.”

CHAPTER 9

    JURY TOWN
    “Glad we’re off that damn tower,” Cameron muttered, his voice overflowing with relief as he riffled through the long list of e-mails, texts, and calls that had accumulated on his phone during their time inside Jury Town. “Ever noticed how it looks farther to the ground when you’re up on a tower than it does to the top of the tower when you’re back on the ground?”
    “Sure,” she answered as they neared their cars.
    She wasn’t really listening. She’d been focused on how good she was going to feel after she grabbed the small bag of joy that was tucked beneath the driver’s seat of her Lexus, stuck a straw into it, and sniffed twice, hard . Once in a while, the stress of leading Project Archer combined with those demons and ghosts Cameron had mentioned required an antidote. This was one of those times—as last night in her study had been. Though, that need had been driven by loneliness, not the demons.
    She was worried that those times were coming more often as Jury Town’s opening grew imminent. Not less, as she’d anticipated—and hoped. The pressure was mounting instead of receding, especially after reading what was inside that envelope Cameron had passed along earlier.
    “Wolf wasn’t happy to hear about Raul Acosta coming to Jury Town to be the second-ranking guard,” Cameron spoke up. “His expression was classic. I got a good chuckle. You were brave to do it up there.”
    “Why?”
    “He could have tossed you off the tower.”
    “He’s not going to toss me off any tower. He likes what I’m paying him, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize it. That’s why I wouldn’t sign contracts with him . . . or anyone else, for that matter. They work at will . . . my will.”
    “It’s an excellent idea to have your own mole inside the walls, especially inside the corps of guards. Wolf knows that, even though he’d never admit it.” They stopped in front of the cars. “What was in that envelope from Judge Eldridge?”
    “Again with the envelope?”
    “You bet.”
    “What makes you think it was from Eldridge?”
    “Who else would it be from? Come on, Victoria, this is me.”
    “He was congratulating me on my performance at the announcement.”
    Cameron groaned, exasperated. “Then why the dead-of-night pickup? My aide, I might add, had a very relieved expression on his face after he handed it to me and ran off. Give me a break, Victoria. What was Eldridge telling you?”
    “You don’t want to know.”
    “You’re damn right I do. I’m gonna get pissed at you in a second.”
    “You want plausible deniability in this instance,” she said, glancing over at him. “I’m serious.”
    He hesitated.
    He’d heard the code loud and clear. She saw that in his expression. She was giving him a chance here not to know.
    “No,” he finally answered, shaking his head. “I’ve come too far on this project to start ducking now. I want to know. I have a right to know.”
    “You’ve been warned.”
    “Whatever.”
    “It turns out Project Archer