Witness... And Wife?. Kate Stevenson

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СКАЧАТЬ nubby fabric of the armrest and framed her next question with care. “You’re quite certain he didn’t mention anything? Some vague reference to a case, something that puzzled him?”

      Chelsea shook her head.

      Disappointed, Cassie changed tack, aware that approaching the problem from a different perspective sometimes jarred loose a subject’s memory. “You seem to have been quite close to the judge.”

      “I worked with him for two years,” Chelsea informed her stiffly. “He often said I was indispensable.” She raised one brow and lowered her voice as though imparting a secret. “You should have seen the state this office was in when I got here.”

      Cassie widened her eyes.

      It was all the encouragement Chelsea needed to unbend. “Chaos. Complete chaos. Important papers mixed with department memos, files strewn everywhere. You couldn’t find a pen if your life depended on it.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

      “Sounds like a real challenge.”

      “How did you manage?” Luke asked, evidently forgetting it was Cassie’s turn to ask the questions.

      Chelsea blinked. “Well,” she said, studying the appointment book in front of her, “I’m nothing if not organized.” She trailed one finger lightly over the book’s embossed surface, a look of genuine regret flickering across her face.

      Regret for the job…or for the man? Cassie wondered.

      With an impatient movement, Luke straightened and moved toward the file cabinets. His thoughts must have run in a similar vein to hers, for while Cassie fished for a way to tactfully get at the truth, he again butted in. “What can you tell us about his personal affairs?”

      “Personal affairs?” Chelsea’s gaze was startled.

      “Yes. Friends, people he socialized with, anyone he might have had disagreements with—things like that.”

      “I only handled official engagements. Receptions, public appearances. You’ll have to ask his wife about his personal life.”

      Cassie would have loved to explore the reason for the bitter twist of Chelsea’s lips as she pronounced the word wife, but the gleam of interest in Luke’s eye warned her she had to act fast if she didn’t want to lose control of the interview completely. Filing the clerk’s reaction away for later consideration, she asked the first thing that came to her mind. “What about enemies? Someone with a grudge?”

      “Judge Wainright didn’t have enemies.”

      “No enemies?” Luke asked in exaggerated surprise. “Odd. Most men accumulate one or two on their way up the ladder, and a man in Wainright’s profession…”

      With startling clarity, Cassie saw where Luke was headed. He was deliberately provoking the clerk, hoping anger would force her to drop some useful piece of information. Unfortunately, in the process, he would ruin any chance for Cassie to gain the cooperation she needed.

      In an effort to avert disaster, Cassie protested. “Detective Sl—”

      “Not Thomas,” Chelsea insisted stubbornly, her attention focused entirely on Luke. “Everyone liked him.”

      Luke’s uplifted eyebrow conveyed his skepticism more eloquently than words. “Even the people he sentenced?”

      “Of course not,” Chelsea snapped. “But I’m sure they realized he was only doing his job.”

      As she glanced from Luke’s disbelieving smile to Chelsea’s tightly compressed lips, Cassie heard the toilet flush on her interview. It was evident she’d get no more information from the clerk today, if ever.

      Slapping shut her notepad, she stowed her tape recorder in her shoulder bag while Luke gave Chelsea a card and suggested she call if she remembered anything pertinent to the case. Not until Cassie and Luke were safely in the hallway did she vent her frustration.

      Hands on hips, she rounded on him. “I should have known.”

      “Known what?”

      “That you wouldn’t keep our bargain. That you’d mess things up.”

      “What did I do?”

      His feigned innocence fueled her anger. If it hadn’t been a supremely childish gesture, she would have stamped her foot. “Do? What didn’t you do? We were supposed to take turns.”

      “I guess I forgot.”

      Forgot! The Luke she knew never forgot anything, nor made a single move without careful, advance consideration. Refusing to honor his bald-faced lie with a rebuttal, she listed the rest of her grievances. “First you act as though I’m an hysterical female about to shatter at the slightest provocation, then you butt into my interview and spoil everything, just when I was getting somewhere.”

      His eyebrow shot up. “You were getting nowhere. That inane woman was feeding you a line, and you were taking down every word like it was gospel. All I did was get to the heart of the matter.”

      “I didn’t believe her—I was drawing her out. She was about to open up when you had to jump in like a moose in a china shop.”

      He grinned. “Bull.”

      “What?”

      “It’s a bull, not a moose.”

      “I don’t care if it’s a ten-foot gorilla. You did it.” She swung away and marched up the hall, propelled by his chuckle at her back.

      “Haven’t you ever heard of ‘good cop, bad cop’?”

      Cassie planted leather-soled sandals against the marble floor and skidded to a halt. Evidently caught off guard by the abrupt maneuver, Luke bumped into her. An electric current rippled as the full length of his body pressed against her. Disconcerted, she shook off his steadying grasp. “We’re not playing cops and robbers.”

      “Aren’t we?”

      His familiar masculine scent, mixed with a hint of spicy aftershave, teased her nose. Startled, she met his stare and lost the thread of conversation. He was standing too close. She took a quick step backward and bent down, making a display of adjusting the strap of one sandal, while trying to ignore the heat coiling in her belly.

      “Did you catch her slip?”

      Cassie straightened, grateful for the excuse to steer her thoughts in a different vein.

      “She called him Thomas,” he said.

      “Big deal. Lots of secretaries—clerks—use their bosses’ first names. I hardly consider that cause for suspicion.” Except when coupled with obvious bitterness at his married state.

      “Anyway,” she continued, picking up the thread of her earlier grievance, “in spite of what you believe, antagonizing people isn’t always the best way to encourage them to spill their guts.”

      “It’s a good interrogation technique.” Luke fumbled his notepad from his pocket and flipped back the front cover.

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