swarming around the entrance of a hive. Bearing up to it, Brent fielded them all. Until one reporter threw him a question about Jennifer.
“Do you think your ex-wife might be behind the kidnapping?”
That door opened, the other reporters didn’t give him a chance to answer. Instead, more questions came, fast and furious.
“Where is she, Judge? Why isn’t she here?”
“This is an election year, Judge. All this attention, do you think it can help your reelection?”
Callie had begun to move forward as soon as Jennifer’s name had been mentioned. She saw Brent’s eyes grow progressively colder with each question. The press conference was turning in directions they hadn’t foreseen. From a genuine life-and-death situation to something that had the makings of a tabloid melodrama.
The captain stepped in to divert the media’s attention. Callie saw her moment and came up to Brent. Taking hold of his arm, she drew him quickly away from the podium.
“Let’s get out of here,” she urged. “You’ve done all the good you can.”
Without waiting for his reply, still holding on to his arm, she forged a path back to the elevators. Several reporters broke off from the crowd and followed in their wake.
The elevator car was standing open. Getting in, Callie quickly pressed for the doors to close. Once they did, she sighed with relief and pressed the button to get them back to her floor.
“Thanks.” His deep voice boomed behind her.
Callie smiled in his direction. “Thought you might need a breather before we wound up having to peel your fingers off the throat of that obnoxious reporter.” She referred to the one who’d asked about the upcoming reelection.
“The thought crossed my mind,” he admitted. The doors opened on Callie’s floor and they got out. “When are they releasing Delia’s body?”
The CSI team had gotten every shred of evidence they could from the hit-and-run victim’s body. All that remained was to have the release papers signed. “Probably a little later today, why?”
“She has no family. I thought I’d arrange for a funeral service for her.”
Callie stopped short of her desk to look at him. “If she has no family, and no friends from what we could see, who’s the service for?”
The answer was simple. “Delia.”
Callie nodded, understanding. She was more than a little impressed. With his own world in utter, devastating turmoil, Brent could still manage to think of a woman who so many would have easily and completely put out of their minds.
“I’ll talk to the M.E. and see if I can speed things up,” she promised.
He smiled to himself as the live broadcast ended and an announcement was made that the station was returning to its originally scheduled programming. The press conference had interrupted all the shows in their usual time slots. Even the local cable stations carried the broadcast.
Switching from channel to channel, he could see the anguish in the judge’s eyes from all different angles.
Good. He was suffering. Just as the self-righteous bastard had made him suffer.
“Won’t do you any good, Montgomery,” he said to the image that was no longer there. “Nobody saw anything. Nobody’s going to help you.”
Turning, he saw the little girl standing in the doorway. In an effort to begin forming a bond with her, he’d told her she could watch Sesame Street. All kids liked Sesame Street. Alice had.
But she’d rejected the suggestion the way she’d rejected everything else so far. He was getting frustrated. The food he’d gotten especially for her still sat on the table, untouched.
Her spirit began to annoy him.
“ Sesame Street is not on right now, Rachel.” He hit the video button on the state-of-the-art set. Nothing but the best for Jackson, he thought sarcastically. A bright-blue screen appeared. He reached into the knapsack he’d brought in from the SUV he’d parked next to the cabin. “I’ve got a video you might like.”
But Rachel
“Do you think your ex-wife might be behind the kidnapping?”
That door opened, the other reporters didn’t give him a chance to answer. Instead, more questions came, fast and furious.
“Where is she, Judge? Why isn’t she here?”
“This is an election year, Judge. All this attention, do you think it can help your reelection?”
Callie had begun to move forward as soon as Jennifer’s name had been mentioned. She saw Brent’s eyes grow progressively colder with each question. The press conference was turning in directions they hadn’t foreseen. From a genuine life-and-death situation to something that had the makings of a tabloid melodrama.
The captain stepped in to divert the media’s attention. Callie saw her moment and came up to Brent. Taking hold of his arm, she drew him quickly away from the podium.
“Let’s get out of here,” she urged. “You’ve done all the good you can.”
Without waiting for his reply, still holding on to his arm, she forged a path back to the elevators. Several reporters broke off from the crowd and followed in their wake.
The elevator car was standing open. Getting in, Callie quickly pressed for the doors to close. Once they did, she sighed with relief and pressed the button to get them back to her floor.
“Thanks.” His deep voice boomed behind her.
Callie smiled in his direction. “Thought you might need a breather before we wound up having to peel your fingers off the throat of that obnoxious reporter.” She referred to the one who’d asked about the upcoming reelection.
“The thought crossed my mind,” he admitted. The doors opened on Callie’s floor and they got out. “When are they releasing Delia’s body?”
The CSI team had gotten every shred of evidence they could from the hit-and-run victim’s body. All that remained was to have the release papers signed. “Probably a little later today, why?”
“She has no family. I thought I’d arrange for a funeral service for her.”
Callie stopped short of her desk to look at him. “If she has no family, and no friends from what we could see, who’s the service for?”
The answer was simple. “Delia.”
Callie nodded, understanding. She was more than a little impressed. With his own world in utter, devastating turmoil, Brent could still manage to think of a woman who so many would have easily and completely put out of their minds.
“I’ll talk to the M.E. and see if I can speed things up,” she promised.
He smiled to himself as the live broadcast ended and an announcement was made that the station was returning to its originally scheduled programming. The press conference had interrupted all the shows in their usual time slots. Even the local cable stations carried the broadcast.
Switching from channel to channel, he could see the anguish in the judge’s eyes from all different angles.
Good. He was suffering. Just as the self-righteous bastard had made him suffer.
“Won’t do you any good, Montgomery,” he said to the image that was no longer there. “Nobody saw anything. Nobody’s going to help you.”
Turning, he saw the little girl standing in the doorway. In an effort to begin forming a bond with her, he’d told her she could watch Sesame Street. All kids liked Sesame Street. Alice had.
But she’d rejected the suggestion the way she’d rejected everything else so far. He was getting frustrated. The food he’d gotten especially for her still sat on the table, untouched.
Her spirit began to annoy him.
“ Sesame Street is not on right now, Rachel.” He hit the video button on the state-of-the-art set. Nothing but the best for Jackson, he thought sarcastically. A bright-blue screen appeared. He reached into the knapsack he’d brought in from the SUV he’d parked next to the cabin. “I’ve got a video you might like.”
But Rachel
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