Read Online Criminal Intent (MIRA) by Laurie Breton - Free Book Online
Authors: Laurie Breton
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they’d bought this afternoon. The poor kid was exhausted, wiped out, totally fried.
She wasn’t the only one. It was past eleven, and Annie was going on twenty hours without sleep. It was time to shut down the computer and crawl beneath the blankets on the lumpy couch that was the best Trader Moe’s Used Stuff had to offer. But she was wired, restless, not yet ready to sleep. She’d opened the bottle of wine in the hope that it would relax her enough so she could shut down for a few hours. So far, it had failed in its mission.
A soft breeze fluttered the curtain at the window, and she sat up straight and scraped the damp hair back from her forehead. The air felt so good. Leaning back, Annie closed her eyes, the wineglass dangling loosely from her fingers. She liked it here, liked the small-town feel of it already. It would be a good place to raise her daughter. Better than Detroit, better than Las Vegas. Cities made her feel stifled, anxious. Too many people, too much noise, too much traffic. Just plain too much. But the state of Maine, with its miles of pine forests, sprinkled here and there with small towns, felt like home.
Roots, Anniethought. You have to put down roots. Build credibility.
On the computer screen in front of her the online version of the Atchawalla Journal-Constitution sat open. It was a presumptuous name for a small daily newspaper in an even smaller town. Still, Annie read it daily, obsessively, every word of it. In search of…what? She wasn’t sure. But if she missed a day, surely she’d miss something of consequence.
Tonight, she’d hit pay dirt. The headline, hidden away in the local news section, had grabbed her attention immediately. District Attorney Tapped for Bench. Feldman Likely Successor.
Wineglass in hand, Annie hunched over the laptop and clicked on the link. The story about Luke Brogan’s brother was brief. Just a handful of sentences, but she read them carefully, read them twice, then a third time, just to be certain that what she saw was real.
ATCHAWALLA, MS—It was announced yesterday that Atchawalla County District Attorney Marcus Brogan has been appointed to a seat on the Superior Court bench left vacant by the sudden and untimely passing last week of the Honorable Judge Abner Mellen. Brogan, a lifelong resident of Atchawalla, received his law degree from Mississippi State University and practiced family law for fifteen years before taking a position in the County Prosecutor’s Office, where he rose in the ranks to his current position of District Attorney, which he has held for seventeen years. Although the Prosecutor’s Office declined to confirm or deny the rumor, the Journal-Constitution has heard from a reliable source that, possibly as early as next week, Assistant District Attorney Rachel Feldman will assume Brogan’s duties pending a November election.
RachelFeldman. How interesting. Annie’d never met the woman, but she knew of her. Knew her story, knew that Mac had liked and respected her. A graduate of Columbia Law School, Rachel Feldman was young and eager and smart. Smart enough, Mac had said, to keep her mouth shut and her eyes open, smart enough to know that she’d been hired to appease the gods of Equal Opportunity. As both a woman and a Jew, Feldman had managed to fulfill two criteria at once. The good old boys must have been dancing a jig the day her application arrived in the mail. There was just one thing they hadn’t counted on when they hired her: Rachel Feldman turned out to be one crackerjack attorney.
A tenuous flicker of hope sprang to life inside her, and Annie struggled to tamp it down. It was too soon, too premature, for anything as tangible as hope. But for the first time, there was possibility. The possibility that, with Marcus Brogan out of the way and Rachel Feldman sitting in the D.A.’s office, this nightmare might actually see an end. Justice might be done. Luke Brogan might end up where he belonged—behind bars—and Annie
She wasn’t the only one. It was past eleven, and Annie was going on twenty hours without sleep. It was time to shut down the computer and crawl beneath the blankets on the lumpy couch that was the best Trader Moe’s Used Stuff had to offer. But she was wired, restless, not yet ready to sleep. She’d opened the bottle of wine in the hope that it would relax her enough so she could shut down for a few hours. So far, it had failed in its mission.
A soft breeze fluttered the curtain at the window, and she sat up straight and scraped the damp hair back from her forehead. The air felt so good. Leaning back, Annie closed her eyes, the wineglass dangling loosely from her fingers. She liked it here, liked the small-town feel of it already. It would be a good place to raise her daughter. Better than Detroit, better than Las Vegas. Cities made her feel stifled, anxious. Too many people, too much noise, too much traffic. Just plain too much. But the state of Maine, with its miles of pine forests, sprinkled here and there with small towns, felt like home.
Roots, Anniethought. You have to put down roots. Build credibility.
On the computer screen in front of her the online version of the Atchawalla Journal-Constitution sat open. It was a presumptuous name for a small daily newspaper in an even smaller town. Still, Annie read it daily, obsessively, every word of it. In search of…what? She wasn’t sure. But if she missed a day, surely she’d miss something of consequence.
Tonight, she’d hit pay dirt. The headline, hidden away in the local news section, had grabbed her attention immediately. District Attorney Tapped for Bench. Feldman Likely Successor.
Wineglass in hand, Annie hunched over the laptop and clicked on the link. The story about Luke Brogan’s brother was brief. Just a handful of sentences, but she read them carefully, read them twice, then a third time, just to be certain that what she saw was real.
ATCHAWALLA, MS—It was announced yesterday that Atchawalla County District Attorney Marcus Brogan has been appointed to a seat on the Superior Court bench left vacant by the sudden and untimely passing last week of the Honorable Judge Abner Mellen. Brogan, a lifelong resident of Atchawalla, received his law degree from Mississippi State University and practiced family law for fifteen years before taking a position in the County Prosecutor’s Office, where he rose in the ranks to his current position of District Attorney, which he has held for seventeen years. Although the Prosecutor’s Office declined to confirm or deny the rumor, the Journal-Constitution has heard from a reliable source that, possibly as early as next week, Assistant District Attorney Rachel Feldman will assume Brogan’s duties pending a November election.
RachelFeldman. How interesting. Annie’d never met the woman, but she knew of her. Knew her story, knew that Mac had liked and respected her. A graduate of Columbia Law School, Rachel Feldman was young and eager and smart. Smart enough, Mac had said, to keep her mouth shut and her eyes open, smart enough to know that she’d been hired to appease the gods of Equal Opportunity. As both a woman and a Jew, Feldman had managed to fulfill two criteria at once. The good old boys must have been dancing a jig the day her application arrived in the mail. There was just one thing they hadn’t counted on when they hired her: Rachel Feldman turned out to be one crackerjack attorney.
A tenuous flicker of hope sprang to life inside her, and Annie struggled to tamp it down. It was too soon, too premature, for anything as tangible as hope. But for the first time, there was possibility. The possibility that, with Marcus Brogan out of the way and Rachel Feldman sitting in the D.A.’s office, this nightmare might actually see an end. Justice might be done. Luke Brogan might end up where he belonged—behind bars—and Annie
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