Devil’s Due by Rachel Caine EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: Rachel Caine
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
The gavel fell, and Ben McCarthy was free. Mira, that was fast, Lucia
thought, stunned. She’d been expecting … something else. A bit more
theater, perhaps; at the very least a token few questions or some fussiness
from one attorney or the other.
The prosecutor looked pale and drawn in the early morning hour,
squinting against the harsh overhead lights. She was a hard-looking woman,
with dark hair and a fashion sense that tended toward square-cut shoulders
and block skirts with sensible shoes. No doubt she won a lot of cases, but it
wasn’t on style points.
Lucia didn’t begrudge her the lemon-sucking expression, considering how
humiliating it was to have to publicly acknowledge a prosecutorial mistake of
this magnitude. This had been a gigantic miss for the cops and the district
attorney’s office. A murderer had gone free, and a cop—not a good cop,
granted—had been wrongly accused and convicted. McCarthy’s life was
over, professionally speaking; he was damn lucky that it wasn’t over in every
sense. The time he’d spent behind bars had been hazardous. He had the
mended bones to prove it.
As soon as the gavel hit wood, McCarthy turned to look over the sparse
crowd in the courtroom. Looking for Jazz Callender, Lucia knew, because he
and Jazz had always been close, and it was reasonable to expect her to be
present for his exoneration.
As Jazz would have been, if not for a conspiracy between Lucia and
Jazz’s beau, James Borden, to keep her safe at home.
The judge rose in a flutter of black robes and escaped back to his
chambers. Apart from the usual complement of guards and court
stenographers, there was the sour-faced prosecutor, the cheery defense
attorney, Ben McCarthy—somehow still neat and striking even in a prisonissue jacket—three bleary-eyed reporters … and a man sitting two rows
ahead of Lucia, hunched forward.
McCarthy’s eyes gave up the search for Jazz and fastened on her, and
Lucia felt an undeniable surge of … something. Not a handsome man,
McCarthy, not in any sense she could name, but there was something about
him that was compelling. Clear blue eyes in an expressive face, a force of
personality that could freeze you solid or melt you to syrup, depending on his
mood—she’d learned that quickly, during their prison interviews. He wasn’t
tall—in fact, in heels she probably topped him by an inch—but he was
strong, and there was something graceful about him. The way he moved. The
deft, neat hands.
She saw the flash of disappointment. But the flash was only that, and then
he smiled at her—a warm smile—and nodded his head. This wasn’t unusual;
men smiled at Lucia Garza a lot. She was beautiful, and she was a careful
steward of the gift; she took pains with her hair, her makeup and her clothing,
and she stayed in shape. She was used to male attention.
And still that smile made her go entirely too warm in secret places.
They’d gotten to know each other well these last few weeks, while Jazz was
recovering from being shot, and Lucia assumed the primary investigator spot
for McCarthy’s case. It had started cautiously, but Lucia, much to her
surprise, hadn’t found McCarthy the typical closed-off cop nor the equally
typical closed-off prison burnout. He’d been … interesting. Literate and
smart and cool.
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