A Time To Come Home. Darlene Gardner
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Название: A Time To Come Home
Автор: Darlene Gardner
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Superromance
isbn: 9781408905265
isbn:
“Mr. Livingstone, would you please read the address listed next to Dr. Millicent Osgood’s phone number?”
The kid reminded him of a caged animal, his eyes frantically searching for a means of escape. After a moment, he cleared his throat and read, “9926 Fairmont Road.”
“Do you know the address of the place that burned down?” Tyler asked.
“No, I don’t,” Grant said, but his eyes and his manner said otherwise.
“Let the record show that address is 9962 Fairmont Road.”
Tyler didn’t relish the gasps and shocked murmurs that reverberated throughout the courtroom. Despite the arrogance that shined through in his manner, Grant seemed more like a misguided kid than a bad one. He’d set the fire in a trash can, probably only intending to frighten. But the wind had been gusty that day, spreading the flames to the branches of a nearby tree that butted up against the house. The resulting inferno had happened very fast.
Tyler spent a good chunk of time trying to get Grant to admit to arson, with no success. But by the time the judge adjourned for lunch, the damage was done. Tyler had furnished the jury with a motive and a defendant who couldn’t meet his eyes when he lied.
The defense attorney would probably spend the lunch break talking to his client about trying to make a deal, but it was too late for that now that Tyler had the case won. Tyler’s boss, the state’s attorney, took pride in his office’s high conviction rate and would never approve a plea bargain at this late stage.
Tyler gathered his papers, placed them in the expensive calfskin leather briefcase his father had bought him last Christmas and headed for the exit.
“Impressive job in there, Tyler.” Jon Pettinger, the neighbor who lived a few doors from him, separated himself from the crowd and shook his hand. Jon kept himself in such good shape that he could have passed for a man a few decades younger if not for his gray hair.
“Thanks, Jon. That’s big of you to say, considering it was your colleague sitting at the defense table. I’m lucky you weren’t there beside him.”
“I’m working another case or I might have been. I was only present today because I happened to be at the courthouse and thought I’d check up on him. I didn’t see much, just the fireworks at the end. You caught my guy unawares, which is a good lesson for him.”
“It’s all about gaining experience and putting in the time. Next time your associate will be better prepared so the prosecution doesn’t surprise him again.”
“You’re right. But next time he won’t be up against an opponent who might become the youngest circuit court judge ever appointed in Maryland.”
“I take it you heard I put in an application for the vacancy.”
“I heard more than that. I heard the judicial nominating commission is very impressed with you. Unless you blow the interview, they’ll recommend the governor appoint you to the bench for sure.”
The thirteen-member commission, armed with background information and statements from local bar associations and interested citizens, would soon meet to interview all the candidates. Tyler had every intention of sailing through the interview, the same way he’d aced his tests in college and law school.
“That’s only the first step,” Tyler said. “The commission can recommend up to seven candidates.”
“I still wouldn’t bet against a guy as accomplished as you, although I’d go nuts if I put in the time you do,” he said with a laugh, then lowered his voice as though they were coconspirators. “Just tell me one thing. Did you get the idea to cross check the addresses because of what happened on Labor Day weekend?”
Tyler cocked his head, trying to remember back to last weekend. He’d spent most of it working, although Lauren Fairchild had stopped by his house in an unsuccessful attempt to persuade him to come to her family’s cookout. “I don’t follow.”
“With that woman who transposed our house numbers. She stopped at my place on Saturday by mistake, but I pointed her in the right direction. Don’t tell me she never found you.”
“I was at the office most of the day Saturday,” Tyler said, then quickly asked, “What did this woman look like?”
“Very attractive. Brown hair a little longer than shoulder length. Big hazel eyes. Oh, and a tiny mole to the left of her mouth, like the one that supermodel has.”
The woman he’d described was Diana Smith.
If his neighbor hadn’t pointed out the mole, Tyler never would have come up with her name.
What could she possibly have come to his house to say after all these years? And why hadn’t she said it when he’d run into her at the community center?
A number of hackneyed expressions ran through his head: water under the bridge. Let bygones by bygones. What’s done is done.
He didn’t listen to any of them. What Diana had to say shouldn’t matter and probably wouldn’t in the long run. But one way or the other, he intended to find out what it was.
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