Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
“Why run? He already got off on the murder. You think that cocky bastard and Chad would think they could get away with anything else the DA threw at them.” That is a good point.
“If he didn't run?”
“Maybe someone killed him?” Mary offers. “Did you hear that the pedophile gym teacher was found dead? He didn't go quickly either. Someone made him suffer. Took their time from what I’ve heard.”
“He’s out of jail already?” I know who she is talking about. It has been over a year since he was sentenced. The sick bastard only got hit with a few years. A small slap on the wrist compared to the pain and suffering he put those poor kids through.
“He got out early for good behavior.” Mary drops her phone back down onto the desk. “Came out to death.” She quirks a half smile, not feeling one lick bad for the man. I don’t either. “Kinda makes my job easier when the sickos take each other out.”
“But that’s not how it’s supposed to work,” I mutter though I think I agree with her. I feel no guilt or sympathy for the man.
“It’s not my problem until it hits my courtroom. Even then I don’t always have a say. Someone killed a pedophile. Get a jury to convict them. If you can.” That was also true. Because you broke a law doesn’t always mean you have to pay the price. I knew that. I’ve seen it many times, but it always seems to go the wrong way. Maybe the system isn't working like it should be.
“Go home to your husband. Stop thinking about this.”
I pick my bag back up and give her a wave goodbye. “I will be interrogating you tomorrow about this date,” I throw over my shoulder as I head out of her office. I rummage around in my purse to find my keys. I dig to the bottom trying to fish them out, not paying attention to where I’m going, and I run right into someone.
“Sorry,” I say as I jump back, my head jerking up to meet Chad’s gaze. Holy crap. Why do I keep running into this man? I guess we are in the courthouse. This is his stomping ground, too.
“Where are you rushing off to, Angel?” he asks. I don’t know why it bothers me when he says my name but it always does. I regret the first time he said it and I didn't correct him. I should have told him to call me by my last name. If I did it now it would be awkward. I hate awkward. I swear he is always trying to make me feel off. I don’t think he’s bullying me per se, but he’s pushing something. Being near him always just feels wrong and gross.
“To see the husband.”
Chad’s whole face changes at the mention of Lucas. “I heard he found Mrs. Washington.”
“Dead.” I can’t help but add that last part. During the trial, Chad played with the idea that she’d run off. No woman runs off and takes nothing with her.
“Heard it was Doc that got the call.” Lucas didn't tell me that. Maybe because we haven't had the chance to talk about it or he knew how upset I was about the case to begin with.
“I hear they can’t find Mr. Washington.” I tilt my head up. I’m fishing.
“He paid his bill with me.” Chad shrugs because that’s all he really cares about.
“I’ll see you around.” I brush my hair out of my face, stepping around him. I reach up to pull my glasses off, having forgotten I still had them on. I always wear them for court. They oddly make me feel like I have somewhat of a shield on when I am there. I’m starting to wonder if I actually love my job.
“I’m sure you will, Angel,” he drawls.
I don’t turn to look back at him as I exit the courthouse, heading straight for my car. There is only one place I want to be right now. At home with my husband. The one man I trust. The one man that always makes me feel safe.
Chapter Seven
Lucas
The microwave dings at the same time Angel turns the TV on. I pull the popcorn bag out and dump the contents into a bowl. My wife pats her hand on the empty sofa cushion next to her.
“Did you get any knitting done?” I ask, settling in. “I want to see my new hat.”
“It’s not done yet. You can’t see a creation in the middle of the process, otherwise the magic will be spoiled. Who do you think is going to get eliminated?”
I stare at the television screen and try to remember the contestants’ names. After a minute, I give up. “The brunette who wears the red lipstick or the bearded man. They both seem out of their element.”