Bench Trial in the Backwoods

by Maggie Wells

  For the first time since he’d opened the door to find her standing on his welcome mat, it occurred to Harry she must have done the same—searched him out. After all, they hadn’t come back to his place when they left Simon’s party. No, they’d gone to the rental house she’d lived in for less than a month. But somehow, she had found him.

  “How’d you get my address?”

  “Why don’t you park in your garage?” she asked simultaneously.

  Time stood still for a second. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help thinking two people who were having a child together should have the answers to these types of questions. But they didn’t. They were virtual strangers who’d come together high on victory and drunk on tequila.

  “I, uh, I use the garage as a gym,” he said at last.

  “Ben gave up the goods on your address,” she admitted, shooting her friend an apologetic glance. “But it’s not his fault. I told him I wanted to send you a Christmas card.”

  “A Christmas card,” he repeated blankly.

  She smirked. “Seemed a good excuse.”

  Harry went on high alert the moment Ben Kinsella turned his flat cop stare on him. “I guess she decided to deliver your card in person, Harry.”

  “None of your business, boss,” Lori murmured, scooping white powder into vials to be sent into the crime lab. Harry let out a gusty breath when Ben swung his glare toward his insubordinate deputy. But Lori returned it, unperturbed. “Unless you think our friendly DEA agent was the one to send our district attorney an envelope full of fake anthrax.”

  Alicia laughed, and Ben’s stony expression softened. “No, I feel pretty confident Alicia sends her messages more directly.”

  “You’ve got that right,” the woman in question replied, unfazed by the turn the conversation had taken. “I am here because I wanted to talk to Harry about some things.”

  Ben’s cop face returned with a vengeance. “Things I need to be aware of?” he asked, his tone sharpening.

  Alicia shook her head. “No. If they were, I would have come to you. This was information specifically for Mr. Hayes.”

  For one minute, Harry was afraid she might blurt out her reason for being there. Thankfully, Deputy Cabrera rescued him.

  “There. I think we have enough.”

  Harry eyed the dusting of powder coating his living-room floor. “And you’re sure it wasn’t anything dangerous?”

  “We’re sure,” the three answered in almost perfect unison.

  They chuckled, and Harry was forced to crack a smile at last. “Okay, well, all right.” He clapped his hands together. “I guess I should break out the old Shop-Vac.”

  Ben nodded, then pulled an individually wrapped mask and gloves from the kit Lori was repacking. “Here. To be on the safe side,” he said, thrusting the personal protective equipment at Harry.

  “And poof! My warm fuzzy feeling is gone,” Harry grumbled.

  Chapter Three

  The moment Harry closed the door behind Ben and Lori, Alicia’s nerves rushed to the surface of her skin. She stood in the kitchen doorway, feeling twitchy as a teenager on her first date. But she was way beyond her teenage awkwardness. She and Harry may not have ever had a first date, but they had a baby coming. And someone was threatening him.

  God, what a night.

  Harry stood in the foyer, his hands braced on his hips and his head bowed. His posture made him appear both thoughtful and vulnerable. A quality she recognized as one of the reasons she’d been so attracted to him to start. He was confident, but not cocksure. A potently powerful combination.

  And his winning vulnerability made her ache to reassure him.

  “Harry, I don’t want to mess up your life,” she said, injecting an abundance of sincerity into the sentiment. “I’m a grown woman. I have a good job, and I can take care of myself and this baby. I didn’t come here expecting you to upend everything you’ve built for yourself because we got reckless one night.”

  “Reckless,” he repeated softly.

  “But you see, the odds of this baby ever happening were so microscopically slim...” She trailed off with a laugh. “I have a complicated medical history, and this might be my one and only chance. And while I think I’m ready to grab hold of it, I want you to understand I absolutely do not expect you to alter any of your plans for the present or future.”

  He lifted his head at last. “Then why come here to tell me?”

  There was no accusation in the question. He asked purely out of curiosity. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a truly satisfactory answer. She had no idea why it had seemed so important to tell him. She could’ve gone on with her life and he never would’ve been the wiser. But doing so felt dishonest. She didn’t want to make her baby a secret. Treat her child as something to be ashamed of. And the last thing Alicia wanted was for this baby to come into a world doubting they were wanted wholeheartedly.

  “Would you have rather I made it a secret?” she asked, needing reassurance she’d done the right thing. “I thought no, but maybe I was wrong. Was I wrong?”

  His hands fell away from his hips, and he raised one to scrub his face and smooth his hair back into place. “No, you weren’t wrong.”

  He stated his position with such clarity, she couldn’t help but smile with relief. “Listen, this night has been, well, a lot,” she said with a laugh. “Let’s take some time and maybe talk again in a day or two?”

  He eyed her carefully for a moment, then nodded. “Probably a good idea.”

  “I’ll leave you all of my contact information,” she offered. “You can use it or not. No hard feelings either way.”

  “No hard feelings,” he echoed, his tone hushed with disbelief.

  “I mean it. I meant it when I said I could handle this on my own. I can, and I will. Actually, going it alone was my intention all along. My coming here was more of a...courtesy.” She stepped out of the kitchen and into the open-plan living area. The place was still an utter mess. “Would you like me to help you clean up?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve got this.”

  Her mind played back the discussion he and Ben had about the damages done to his car. “Do you often get threats against you?”

  He cocked his head and it was clear from his expression he considered her question slightly ridiculous. “I’m a prosecutor. People are seldom happy when I bring charges against them. Even more unhappy if I win. And even if they go to jail, those people often have family members who are happy to carry their unhappiness for them.” He shrugged. “This is all part of the territory.”

  “But do they usually strike so close to home? Literally,” she said, gesturing to the mess on the floor.

  He didn’t bother trying to deny it. Instead, he shook his head and cast a mournful gaze at his dust-covered floor. “No, not this close.”

  “Coulter has friends. He has some unsavory friends,” she said pointedly.

  “I’m aware.”

  “If this gets to be too much, if this escalates in any way, you need to ask for protection.”

  “Protection,” he said with a soft snort. “If we were going to pick a word of the night, right?”

  Alicia couldn’t stifle her laugh. Gallows humor was often the refuge of law enforcement, and it appeared their counterparts on the judiciary side of things were no different. “In both cases, I think the horse is out of the barn, but you can take steps to protect yourself.”

  “I’ll take your recommendation under advisement,” he said dryly. Alicia watched him draw a deep breath in and then let it out slowly. At last, he took a step closer to her and looked her in the eye. “Are you planning to drive back to Atlanta tonight?”

  She nodded. “I planned on it. Why?”

  “I’m not sure.” He rolled his shoulders back and torqued his head to the side to stretch his neck. “It’s late,” h
e said.

  Alicia glanced down at the sports watch strapped to her wrist. “It’s seven twenty-two.”

  “I mean, it’s dark...and cold...” He trailed off. “You’re traveling alone.”

  “I often do,” she said briskly. “Again, I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself. And if anyone tries to mess with me, I have a gun, remember?”

  He reared back. “On you? I’ve never seen you carry.”

  “That’s because I don’t wave my gun around. It’s either in a holster or in my bag. Tonight, it’s in my bag,” she said, lifting her brows and fixing him with a pointed stare. “Would you like to see my concealed carry permit?”

  “No.” He shook his head, then had the good grace to laugh at himself. “I never thought of you carrying a weapon. Every time I’ve seen you, you’ve been more on the command side of things, I guess. I thought you were a suit. Like me,” he added with a winsome smile.

  “I am,” she said, amused. “But I’m also armed at all times. The suit helps cover the holster.”

  He chuckled and shook his head, running a hand over his mouth, a hint of color touching his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “I’m not sure if I should be terrified or turned on,” he admitted.

  “I recommend both,” she answered without hesitation.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you were any less of an agent because...” He shot her a look from under his lashes. “It never occurred to me.”

  “It’s because I’m so feminine,” she said with an edge of sarcasm.

  His brow crinkled. He was working hard to determine if she were joking or not. “You are.”

  She snickered. “Don’t fret, Counselor. I’m not going to shoot you.”

  He looked up into her eyes and his gaze never wavered. He studied her, searching for a clue as to whether he’d stuck his foot in some kind of a trap. “But you are. Feminine, I mean. From where I’ve stood, you always have been. Both strong and feminine,” he said with a decisive nod.

  Alicia was so disarmed by his mild stammering, she decided to let him off the hook easy. “Thank you. I am. I never could understand why some men think a woman can’t own her sexuality as well as a SIG Sauer.”

  This time, he let out a full-blown laugh. Country raised, he couldn’t help appreciating a woman who was more comfortable talking about handguns than handbags. “Okay, now you are definitely trying to turn me on,” he accused.

  Alicia felt her own cheeks warm with a flush of pleasure. On impulse, she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. She would not think about how good those hands had felt on her. She had more important matters to focus on now. A baby. Her baby.

  “I’ll go to the doctor to get things verified. The due date will be pretty easy to calculate, since there’s no wondering about the date of conception...” She snapped her mouth shut and inhaled deeply through her nose. Once she felt more in control, she gave him a wan smile. “I should have more information by the end of the week.”

  Reaching into her bag, she pulled out one of the business cards she kept loose in an inside pocket. “I never got a chance to give you this before I left Pine Bluff, but here’s all my contact info.”

  He scissored the proffered card between his fore and middle fingers but made no move to pull it from her grasp. “Would you have?”

  His voice was rough. Gravelly with exhaustion and emotion. She recognized it from the long hours they’d spent working together to make sure he had every scrap of evidence he needed to bring Coulter in front of a judge and ask that the millionaire be held without bail because he was a flight risk. A federal prosecutor had been assigned to the case, but Alicia convinced him to take Harrison as his second chair. Since he’d been born and raised in Masters County, she’d thought Harry might hold more sway with a jury in rural Georgia. But then Coulter had thrown them all for a loop by waiving his right to trial by jury. Now Harry was a hanger-on in a case scheduled to be heard by a federal judge in another town, but receiving threats from the slimebags who lived in his own backwoods.

  “I’d planned to, but then you got busy and I got busy and we never, uh...”

  “Got busy again?” he supplied, taking the card from her at last.

  She nodded. “Yeah.” She hiked the strap of her bag up on her shoulder. “Then I got a call saying I was needed back in Atlanta, and, well, I guess it felt awkward,” she confessed.

  To her relief, he nodded. “I get you.”

  “But the card has all my numbers plus an email address.” She indicated the card. “You don’t have to use them if you don’t want to.” She raised both hands to ward him off. “If you want to be a part of this baby’s life, I will do everything in my power to make it happen, but if you choose not to be, no judgment. The only thing I ask is you take some time to think it over before you decide.”

  He nodded, but she had to press on with the hard part before he got too agreeable.

  “Harry, I need you to be certain. If you opt out, I will ask you to relinquish all rights. Not to be spiteful, but because I don’t want to leave things open to chaos and confusion later. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

  “Yeah,” he croaked.

  “Take your time, okay?” She smiled and gave her still-flat stomach a pat. “It’s a big decision, but we have time to figure it all out.”

  “Right.” He cleared his throat, then nodded more emphatically, dragging his gaze from her hand. “Definitely. Yes. Not something to make rash decisions about, for sure.”

  They stood there, eyeing each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Never one to shy away from diving in, Alicia gave him a quick nod, let her hand fall away from her belly, then stepped toward the door.

  “Wait,” Harry blurted, reaching out to take hold of her arm.

  Alicia instinctively looked down at his hand before lifting her gaze to his. The moment their eyes met, he released his hold. “Yes?” she asked, tamping down the flicker of hope flaring where their baby nestled in her womb.

  “Have you eaten?”

  The question was so far from her train of thought it might have parachuted in from a plane. “What?”

  “Dinner. Have you eaten?” he asked again, his tone slightly more persistent.

  She shook her head. “No, I haven’t, but I’m not sure I will,” she said with a grimace.

  “You need to eat,” he insisted. “Because you’re pregnant.”

  She gave a soft laugh, tipping her head to the side as if conceding his point, then shaking it firmly. “This isn’t a good time for me.”

  “Not a good time? Are you in a hurry or something?” he asked, a note of irritability creeping into his tone. “Anxious to drop your bombs and fly off into the rising sun or something?”

  “Rising sun?”

  “Tactical maneuver. Blinds people trying to take you out with antiaircraft fire,” he said with a shrug.

  “Are you former air force or something?”

  “Or something,” he replied. When she let the silence stretch, he huffed out a breath. “I like war movies, video games and stuff,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “Ah,” she breathed. “A nerd.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I appreciate a strategic assault. Like to employ them too.”

  “Do you now?”

  “Some people use weapons—I use words.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Coulter and his new attorneys think a bench trial will get a good chunk of the evidence against him thrown out on technicalities. They’re banking on not needing to appeal to a jury. They want to slip through loopholes in the letters of the law.”

  “Do you think he can?”

  Harry exhaled long and loud, turning away. “Maybe. He’ll wriggle out of at least some of them. Like you’re trying to wriggle out of sitting down to eat a meal with me.”

  “I’m
not...” She started and stopped, not sure why she was trying to play it coy all of a sudden when she’d come through this man’s front door with a proverbial battering ram. “I, uh... Morning sickness is a misnomer,” she finally said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t get sick in the morning. Or as sick, I should say. It’s morning, noon and night sickness for me, but it seems to hit me harder at night,” she explained, lifting her chin a notch, practically daring him to tell her she and her body were being ridiculous with their refusal to follow the rules.

  His face went blank for a second. Then realization dawned. “Oh.”

  “So, yeah, I’ve mostly been eating crackers at night. I thought it was a stomach bug at first, but then the smell of soup set me off. A colleague’s wife was the same way. I remembered her, and it made me think maybe...” She gave him a shaky smile.

  “I can make something easy, like some plain pasta,” he offered.

  “You’re sweet, but I think we both may need those couple days,” she said gently. “This is new for me too, and though I am sure I want this baby, I haven’t had much time to process it.”

  Again, he scraped a hand over his face. “You’re not going to...disappear again, right?”

  “I gave you all my contact information,” she reminded him.

  “Calls can go unanswered, and emails can be trashed. And something tells me I’m not going to be able to score your home address by saying I want to send a Christmas card.”

  Her smile widened. “I think I’ve already blown my chance at remaining a woman of mystery. Plus, I came here to tell you, didn’t I?”

  “Promise you’re not dropping this bomb and heading for the horizon,” he persisted. “This whole night has been beyond wild. I need you to give me your word we will talk again.”

  Alicia sobered in an instant. “I give you my word.”

  He nodded in concession. “Can I give you anything for the drive back? Water? I don’t have any fancy crackers, but I think I have some saltines. You did say you can eat crackers, right?”

  “Right. And yes. A bottle of water and some saltines would be great,” she said, sensing it would give him comfort and provide her with something to settle her rebellious stomach.