Courthouse Steps. Ginger Chambers

alone, then broke away from the small group himself. His walk was assured as he started across the room.

      Amanda’s heart rate jumped when she saw that he was coming toward her. She looked around for somewhere to hide. She didn’t want to meet him like this! She wasn’t ready! When she’d come to the courthouse in Sugar Creek, it was to tie up the last threads in a case that had nothing to do with her grandfather. She hadn’t expected to run into Ethan Trask!

      She sidled quickly toward a high rectangular table where other people were filling out forms. Picking up a form herself, she pretended to study it, but in reality she continued to watch the man...her adversary. His reputation had preceded him. He was the state attorney general’s “Avenging Angel.” When he was assigned to a case, he almost always won it. Brilliant, she’d heard him described. Merciless, as well.

      She held her breath as he paused near her. Had someone told him that she was here? She spared a glance toward where he’d been standing and saw that the group had dispersed. No one was waiting to see what would happen next. Her blue gaze whipped back to the man and moved quickly over his angular face and strong, straight nose. She braced herself for his sharp word of greeting and the reactive flash of confident recognition that she would be no match for him.

      Instead, his gaze lingered only briefly on her face before moving on. She was just another woman among many who had business in the courthouse. She might have been there to arrange bail for a boyfriend or to act as witness at a trial. He had no business with her, as far as he knew. No reason for recognition. Amanda remained frozen near the table. It was only when she saw him walk safely through the double doors of the building’s main exit that she allowed herself the freedom to breathe again. Her heart rate took longer to settle.

      She had known he was coming. Everyone knew he was coming; his picture had been in the Tyler Citizen on and off for a week. It was only a matter of when. Now he was here. In person. No longer a face in newsprint or a terrifying reputation to be feared. She had seen him, looked straight into his eyes, and she had discovered that this time reality was every bit equal to the gossip.

      “Amanda...hello,” someone called from a short distance away, drawing her out of her panicky thoughts.

      Amanda looked up to see a fellow attorney struggling to contain an armload of notebooks and files. She forced a smile. “Sharon! Hello to you, too! I thought you were still visiting your parents in Florida.”

      Her friend grimaced. “I’m supposed to be, but I got called back. A custody hearing was moved up, so here I am. Have you heard? Ethan Trask is scheduled to set up his office in the courthouse today. Have you met him yet? Walk with me—I’m already behind schedule.”

      Amanda checked over her shoulder to make sure that Ethan Trask hadn’t changed his mind and reentered the building. “No,” she said, settling in at her friend’s side. “I haven’t met him yet, and I wish I never had to.”

      Sharon Martin glanced at her with compassion. “I don’t envy you one bit. Neither does anyone else, with the possible exception of our usual showboater. He’d love to take on Ethan Trask. Winning or losing wouldn’t matter, as long as he got plenty of media attention.” Sharon hesitated. “Have you given any more thought to finding a co-counsel? I’d offer to help, but I’d be next to useless. You need someone who really knows their way around a criminal court.”

      “I could always ask Larry,” Amanda murmured dryly. Larry Richardson was the “showboater” Sharon had referred to. Not only did the man have an ego the size of Wisconsin concerning his abilities as a criminal defense lawyer, he also thought he was God’s gift to women.

      “Yeah, sure.” Sharon’s tone held just the right amount of sarcasm. “First he’d insist on being lead counsel. You’d have to do everything his way. Second, he’d inflate his fee. Third, you’d do all the work and he’d take all the glory. Fourth, you’d have to fight for your virtue every time you stepped into an empty room with him. And fifth...he wouldn’t care nearly as much as you do about proving your grandfather innocent. Don’t ask Larry!”

      “I’ll take your advice under consideration, Counselor.”

      Sharon, who looked tanned and rested from her week in Miami, ignored Amanda’s teasing words. “The strain is starting to show, Amanda. Seriously, get some help. Have you thought of asking Professor Williams?”

      Sharon and Amanda had attended the same law school in Illinois, and Professor Williams had been their favorite instructor. Several years ago he had retired and moved back to his family’s longtime home on nearby Lake Geneva.

      “I’ve thought of him,” Amanda admitted.

      They paused at the base of the wide, curving stairway that was the centerpiece of the graceful old building. Sharon glanced toward the upper floors. “I’ve got to go. Give him a call, Amanda. If our positions were reversed, I would.”

      Amanda waved her friend away and continued down a long hall that branched off the lobby. She had contemplated placing a call to Professor Williams on more than one occasion, but had hesitated each time because he’d been reported to be in ill health. And with all the upset about her grandfather’s upcoming trial, she hadn’t taken the time she once would have to pay him a friendly visit. She had been too busy trying to catch up loose ends so that she could devote herself completely to her grandfather’s case.

      As she neared the county clerk’s office, a man who’d been slouching against the wall looked up and jerked forward. “Miss Baron! Could I have a word with you, please?” He pressed closer. “Would you give me a quick statement about Ethan Trask? How does your grandfather feel about his assignment to the case? Does he think he’ll get a fair trial? Have you had second thoughts about representing your grandfather? Have you seen Ethan Trask yet? Have you talked with him?” He readied a notepad and a stubby pencil.

      The barrage of questions set Amanda on edge. She still wasn’t accustomed to such attention. Strictly a small-town lawyer, she handled small-town problems. The most notorious case she’d ever been involved with concerned a male dog of very mixed breeding that had fallen under the spell of a certain champion female show dog next door. Spike had displayed surprising versatility and enterprise in getting out of his backyard in order to pay his calls, and the show dog’s owner had been furious about the little Spikes that had frequently turned up in his litters. He had sued the neighbor, whom Amanda represented, and the story had passed from local color to newspapers across the state. She had given a few quick interviews and been done with it. She and Rob Friedman, the owner and publisher of the Tyler Citizen, had had a few good laughs out of it. But ever since her grandfather’s indictment, Amanda found little to laugh about.

      She took a quick breath and said, “There’s been no change in my grandfather’s representation. He has every faith in my ability and in the state to give him a fair trial. As to Mr. Trask...he doesn’t frighten either one of us. We’re each still getting a good night’s sleep.”

      “But considering Ethan Trask’s reputation—”

      Amanda flashed a naturally sweet smile. “I’ll leave it at that. Now, if you don’t mind, I have business to attend to.”

      The reporter held back as she stepped into the clerk’s office. She might look cool and confident, which was the impression she very much wanted to give, but she felt far from that inside. If truth be told, her sleep patterns were awful. She kept having the same dream, that a monster was out to get her and, no matter where she took cover, always found her. From the drawn look of her grandfather, she suspected he was having much the same experience.

      Amanda took care of her business as quickly as possible and made her way out of the courthouse. She had only one close call. As she was about to leave through a side door, she came face-to-face with the small, slender man who had been with Ethan Trask. She recognized him instantly. He had jet-black hair, warm brown eyes and just the slightest trace of a Latin accent when he excused himself and stood aside for her to pass. He was not a handsome man. His nose was too large for his face, his mouth was too wide. But he held himself with such confident élan and had such quick charm to