Courting Danger. Carol Stephenson

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СКАЧАТЬ his file, snapped, “Which exhibits?”

      “One and Two. Get with the program, Counselor.” The judge shuffled a few papers. “I have the exhibits. Proceed, Ms. Rochelle.”

      “The probable cause basis for the traffic stop of my client was information Officer Pitt received when he called in her tag number that her car was connected to a robbery.”

      “So? That’s a textbook stop.”

      “Compare the number the officer called in and the number on his report. He transposed the last numbers.”

      “Eh?” The judge’s brows drew together.

      “The officer stopped the wrong car for the wrong cause, Judge. Anything he found is the result of an illegal search. The charges should be dismissed.”

      “Any response, Mr. Feinstein?”

      Leo’s mouth opened and closed.

      “Thought so. Defendant’s motion is granted. The charges are dismissed. Next case.”

      Oh yeah, I felt like doing a happy dance, but instead I whispered to Simone that everything was going to be okay. I sauntered across the courtroom out into the hall. The moment the door swung closed behind me, I pumped my fist in the air. “Yes!”

      I was back.

      An hour later I squealed my gold-colored Jaguar to a stop behind the shell-pink stucco one-story building that housed the Law Offices of Dent, Rochelle and Sterling. I entered through the back door into the warren of offices and cubicles that was the heart of our operations. I paused, absorbing the dull clatter of keyboard keys and low voices on phones.

      Not for the first time, pride burned in me. This was ours. This law firm represented the hopes, dreams and wills of three women who had formed a bond in the early days of law school. I would do my part to hold up my end. I wouldn’t let my friends down.

      After walking down the abbreviated hall, I entered the second office on the right, dropping both my purse and briefcase on my desk. As I sat with relief, I noticed a telephone message propped against the phone and grimaced. Big, bold letters, words underlined.

      “Great. Perfect morning so far.”

      “Talking to yourself?” Carling Dent, her sharp elfin features split by a wide grin, asked as she entered. Because she was dipping a tea bag in her mug, her normal bounce was more like a flounce.

      I motioned for her to close the door. Halfway across the room she stopped and stared.

      “What happened to you? Since when did morning hearings turn into a demolition derby?”

      “Just my luck.” Shucking off my jacket, I examined the gaping side seam, mentally adding a trip to the cleaners on my to-do list.

      “All right, Kate. Give.” Carling plopped herself into a plush client chair. “Did Winewski and you go a round?”

      I wiggled out of my ruined panty hose, balled them up and tossed them into the wastebasket. “Hardly.”

      Anyone who saw this dark-haired babe and what they imagined to be a vapid gaze with her soft green eyes was in for a rude awakening. Carling was sharp as a tack and had the instincts for nailing a person to the wall.

      “Wasn’t he a friend of your grandfather’s?” she asked.

      “Former,” I corrected as I pulled out a package of panty hose from my bottom drawer.

      “Gave you a hard time?”

      “Started to.” I slid the nylons over my pedicured feet and stood to pull on the hose. “Then the defendant on the docket before me took exception to Winewski’s suspending his driver’s license. After decking his lawyer, he made the mistake of grabbing me. He figured because I was a ‘girlie’ he could use me as a shield.”

      “Next time he’ll be sure to ask about your sports trophies. Naturally, you were the victor.”

      I smoothed out my skirt but smothered an oath when I spotted the blood on my favorite royal-blue blouse. It would never come out. “You should have seen Leo Feinstein run for the high hills the moment trouble broke out.”

      “Leo had traffic detail?”

      Rummaging in the drawer, I found a patterned silk scarf that wasn’t too bad a match for the remnants of my outfit. “He’s down to six hairs.”

      My friend snickered. “Get this. I heard that he’s planning to do hair implants.”

      I suppressed a shudder. “I don’t even want to think about where the hair will come from. He’s too cheap to spring for anything on the high end.”

      As I wound the scarf around my neck, Carling sprang up and rushed around the desk. “My God, Kate. Your throat!”

      Granted, it hurt to swallow, but her look of horror sent me scrambling for a mirror. Gingerly I peeled away the collar. The vivid bruise ran from red to purple in a solid band across the base of my throat. Carling’s fingers were gentle as she touched the skin, but I still winced at the stab of pain.

      “That bastard had you by the throat, didn’t he!” she demanded.

      “Yes.” I buttoned the top of my blouse. The material was silk and wouldn’t scratch the abused skin too much. I then looped the scarf one more time around my neck for extra coverage.

      “You should see a doctor. What’s your schedule for the rest of the day? I’ll cover. You leave now and seek medical attention.” She snapped out the series of orders like a general going to battle.

      “You’ll even cover the summons from Aunt Hilary?”

      The look of abject horror on her face tickled me. I gave her a quick hug. “I didn’t think so.”

      She swallowed, hard. “I can call and tell her you’re indisposed.”

      I opened the door to the small closet, took out a black blazer and put it on, remembering to transfer the antacid roll into the pocket. Although it covered only part of the damage, this jacket would have to do. No time to go home and change. Aunt Hilary needed to make her club luncheon.

      I pivoted. “Well, how do I look?”

      Carling folded her arms and took her sweet time surveying me from head to toe. “Like someone who has been through the ringer and is trying to cover up.”

      My arms dropped. “Thanks a lot.”

      My friend’s lips curved in a big smile. “You’ll do, Katherine.” Her emphasis on my name didn’t go unnoticed. In the world I had once inhabited, my formal name was always used. Carling had been the first daring enough to shorten it. And it was into that former environment I was now heading.

      Carling gave me a thumbs-up. “Good luck.”

      “I’m going to need it,” I said under my breath as I crossed the room.

      “If you don’t return in an hour, we’ll send out a СКАЧАТЬ