possibility of lasting relationships. So far, no one had tempted her from that path. The sad thought was accompanied by a flash of a memory. Ryan Foster was similarly focused on work and appeared to be similarly alone.
“I have no doubt you’ll provide him with the best representation,” the judge said. “I can get you back on the list, but frankly, if your client wants to confess, a fine attorney like yourself should be able to negotiate the death penalty off the table.” The judge started to clear up the evidence of their tea party as if the subject were concluded. Brett knew the judge expected her to leave now, but she couldn’t resist one more shot.
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’ve taken on a pretty heavy federal caseload lately. I think there are lawyers whose certification is current who would be in a better position to handle this case.”
Judge Langston finished replacing her tea tray exactly as it had been when she had started her break. When she finished, she turned and fixed Brett with a penetrating stare. “This individual found his or her way to you. Unless you have a conflict yourself, I don’t see any reason you wouldn’t be the best person to handle this case. I’ll look forward to seeing even more of you in my courtroom.” She reached for her robe, slipped it on, and made her way back to the bench. Brett followed. She had no response to the judge’s assessment. No acceptable one anyway. To keep protesting would make her seem like a whiner. Besides, it wasn’t like the distraction of a capital case would be an imposition on her personal life, such as it was. She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that the only true conflict she had was the combination of attraction and challenge she felt for the new lead prosecutor on the case.
*
Ryan knew Brett hadn’t left the courtroom yet, but she nevertheless felt a tingle of surprise when she saw Brett walking toward her. Their brief coffee meeting, date… Ryan wasn’t sure what to call it, but it had been strange. She suspected Brett was reaching out to her that day, but the time they spent together was too short for her to assess the motive. Ryan wanted Brett’s objective to be a desire to get to know her personally, but she reasoned it was more likely Brett was jockeying for a good position with the next district attorney.
Ryan had certainly experienced plenty of similar attention lately even though she had not officially announced her candidacy. The past month had been full of what Leonard liked to call fishing trips. He had squired her around the county like a matchmaker looking for the perfect spouse, except she was the suitor, pledging her faith to multiple partners. She had stopped protesting. Leonard waved off all her protests that she wasn’t cut out for politics. “Politics isn’t something you choose. It chooses you,” he said. He insisted that Dallas County was poised to host its first female elected DA, and Ryan was perfect for the position. Whatever she lacked in terms of politicking prowess, he was happy to provide. After eighteen years in office, Leonard Duncan knew all the available sources of support, legitimate and otherwise. Ryan imagined there wasn’t much Leonard didn’t know about what went on in Dallas County, and his knowledge of where the powerful people kept their skeletons hidden only fueled his own power. Not for the first time, Ryan speculated that Leonard certainly must know about the parties some of his most select constituents attended. She pushed the thought away, unwilling to acknowledge how it made her feel to consider the possibility her mentor might know her secret. Surely he didn’t.
“Can I talk to you? Privately?”
Ryan noted again the undercurrent of command present in Brett’s soft tones. The result was a gentle authority she wanted to obey. Brett probably won many hearings like the one she had just witnessed.
“Sure. Shall we go upstairs?” At Brett’s nod, she
“I have no doubt you’ll provide him with the best representation,” the judge said. “I can get you back on the list, but frankly, if your client wants to confess, a fine attorney like yourself should be able to negotiate the death penalty off the table.” The judge started to clear up the evidence of their tea party as if the subject were concluded. Brett knew the judge expected her to leave now, but she couldn’t resist one more shot.
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’ve taken on a pretty heavy federal caseload lately. I think there are lawyers whose certification is current who would be in a better position to handle this case.”
Judge Langston finished replacing her tea tray exactly as it had been when she had started her break. When she finished, she turned and fixed Brett with a penetrating stare. “This individual found his or her way to you. Unless you have a conflict yourself, I don’t see any reason you wouldn’t be the best person to handle this case. I’ll look forward to seeing even more of you in my courtroom.” She reached for her robe, slipped it on, and made her way back to the bench. Brett followed. She had no response to the judge’s assessment. No acceptable one anyway. To keep protesting would make her seem like a whiner. Besides, it wasn’t like the distraction of a capital case would be an imposition on her personal life, such as it was. She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that the only true conflict she had was the combination of attraction and challenge she felt for the new lead prosecutor on the case.
*
Ryan knew Brett hadn’t left the courtroom yet, but she nevertheless felt a tingle of surprise when she saw Brett walking toward her. Their brief coffee meeting, date… Ryan wasn’t sure what to call it, but it had been strange. She suspected Brett was reaching out to her that day, but the time they spent together was too short for her to assess the motive. Ryan wanted Brett’s objective to be a desire to get to know her personally, but she reasoned it was more likely Brett was jockeying for a good position with the next district attorney.
Ryan had certainly experienced plenty of similar attention lately even though she had not officially announced her candidacy. The past month had been full of what Leonard liked to call fishing trips. He had squired her around the county like a matchmaker looking for the perfect spouse, except she was the suitor, pledging her faith to multiple partners. She had stopped protesting. Leonard waved off all her protests that she wasn’t cut out for politics. “Politics isn’t something you choose. It chooses you,” he said. He insisted that Dallas County was poised to host its first female elected DA, and Ryan was perfect for the position. Whatever she lacked in terms of politicking prowess, he was happy to provide. After eighteen years in office, Leonard Duncan knew all the available sources of support, legitimate and otherwise. Ryan imagined there wasn’t much Leonard didn’t know about what went on in Dallas County, and his knowledge of where the powerful people kept their skeletons hidden only fueled his own power. Not for the first time, Ryan speculated that Leonard certainly must know about the parties some of his most select constituents attended. She pushed the thought away, unwilling to acknowledge how it made her feel to consider the possibility her mentor might know her secret. Surely he didn’t.
“Can I talk to you? Privately?”
Ryan noted again the undercurrent of command present in Brett’s soft tones. The result was a gentle authority she wanted to obey. Brett probably won many hearings like the one she had just witnessed.
“Sure. Shall we go upstairs?” At Brett’s nod, she
Similar Books
