hell of a lot to explain to me. Like what you’re doing here and how you knew where I live.”
“I’m not a Texas Ranger for nothing.”
“Don’t be cute.”
“Wasn’t trying to be. Took me eight years as a trooper before I could even apply.”
While she fumed, he took a more thorough look around the kitchen. There were the usual small appliances on the counter, an African violet in the window above the sink, a small dining table with only two chairs. Compact and scrupulously tidy. Nothing fussy. About what he would expect.
“How long have you lived here?” he asked.
“Since the day I came to town.”
“From Dallas, right?” He cocked an eyebrow. “City girl gone country?”
Annoyed by that, she said, “I’ll ask you one more time. What are you doing here?”
“That was going to be my next question to you. Why here?”
“I told you. The widow—”
“I mean why Prentiss? Why our humble burg here on the edge of a swamp?”
“When Judge Waters’s health forced him to step down from the bench, he encouraged me to apply to be his replacement.”
“Out of all the legal eagles vying for that appointment, he encouraged you. Why?”
When she hesitated to answer, he realized he’d tapped into a touchy subject. With obvious reluctance she said, “He’d known me since I was born. He and my father were good friends.”
“Huh.”
“What does that ‘huh’ imply?”
“Favoritism?”
“You should be campaigning for Greg Sanders.”
“That loudmouth? No thanks.”
“He does like to crow. His credentials are unimpressive and his platform shaky, so he’s resorted to mudslinging. According to him, I’m too young and inexperienced.”
“Well, he does have twenty years on you.”
“Then his record should outshine mine. It doesn’t.”
He started ticking off her accomplishments. “First in your class in law school. Straight out of it, you were snatched up by that high-dollar family law firm in Dallas. Made partner in no time flat. Won notoriety for handling that hockey player’s divorce. Got his ex a bundle in the settlement.”
“You did your homework.”
“Did I leave out anything?”
“I was hall monitor in seventh grade.”
“I missed that. But it doesn’t surprise me. You personify overachiever. Still, Sanders and others are thinking you only got that gubernatorial appointment because you were Judge Waters’s fair-haired child.” Again, his gaze wandered over the light strands framing her face. “Stating the obvious would be too easy.”
She stiffened her backbone again. “The governor made up his own mind. In any case, I’m not going to debate this with you, Mr. Hunt. In November, I’ll be elected on merit.”
Their encounter earlier tonight in the hallway of the police station had been the first time he’d seen her without the black robe she’d worn into court. She’d been dressed in a gray pants suit and a blue blouse, a tailored, no-frills outfit in keeping with her profession, something a sober lady judge would wear under her robe of office.
But for all the severity of her suit, he’d been surprised then by how much smaller she looked without the robe. Now, barefoot, wearing a faded, oversize t-shirt and an unbelted cotton robe, she looked even more diminutive. Without the trappings of judgeship, there wasn’t much to her.
But there was no shortage of authority in her bearing or tone of voice. “You still haven’t told me why you came here, Mr. Hunt.”
His gaze was reluctant to leave the hem of the t-shirt that didn’t quite reach her bare knees, but he forced it to. “I want to ask you some questions, and I don’t trust phones. To say nothing of phone records.”
“Records or not, you and I shouldn’t be speaking privately.”
“Why not? Afraid we’ll get in trouble with Neal? Or are you intimidated by Nugent? A hard-nosed detective if ever I saw one.”
Ignoring the insult toward the younger officer, she said, “They’re conducting an
“I’m not a Texas Ranger for nothing.”
“Don’t be cute.”
“Wasn’t trying to be. Took me eight years as a trooper before I could even apply.”
While she fumed, he took a more thorough look around the kitchen. There were the usual small appliances on the counter, an African violet in the window above the sink, a small dining table with only two chairs. Compact and scrupulously tidy. Nothing fussy. About what he would expect.
“How long have you lived here?” he asked.
“Since the day I came to town.”
“From Dallas, right?” He cocked an eyebrow. “City girl gone country?”
Annoyed by that, she said, “I’ll ask you one more time. What are you doing here?”
“That was going to be my next question to you. Why here?”
“I told you. The widow—”
“I mean why Prentiss? Why our humble burg here on the edge of a swamp?”
“When Judge Waters’s health forced him to step down from the bench, he encouraged me to apply to be his replacement.”
“Out of all the legal eagles vying for that appointment, he encouraged you. Why?”
When she hesitated to answer, he realized he’d tapped into a touchy subject. With obvious reluctance she said, “He’d known me since I was born. He and my father were good friends.”
“Huh.”
“What does that ‘huh’ imply?”
“Favoritism?”
“You should be campaigning for Greg Sanders.”
“That loudmouth? No thanks.”
“He does like to crow. His credentials are unimpressive and his platform shaky, so he’s resorted to mudslinging. According to him, I’m too young and inexperienced.”
“Well, he does have twenty years on you.”
“Then his record should outshine mine. It doesn’t.”
He started ticking off her accomplishments. “First in your class in law school. Straight out of it, you were snatched up by that high-dollar family law firm in Dallas. Made partner in no time flat. Won notoriety for handling that hockey player’s divorce. Got his ex a bundle in the settlement.”
“You did your homework.”
“Did I leave out anything?”
“I was hall monitor in seventh grade.”
“I missed that. But it doesn’t surprise me. You personify overachiever. Still, Sanders and others are thinking you only got that gubernatorial appointment because you were Judge Waters’s fair-haired child.” Again, his gaze wandered over the light strands framing her face. “Stating the obvious would be too easy.”
She stiffened her backbone again. “The governor made up his own mind. In any case, I’m not going to debate this with you, Mr. Hunt. In November, I’ll be elected on merit.”
Their encounter earlier tonight in the hallway of the police station had been the first time he’d seen her without the black robe she’d worn into court. She’d been dressed in a gray pants suit and a blue blouse, a tailored, no-frills outfit in keeping with her profession, something a sober lady judge would wear under her robe of office.
But for all the severity of her suit, he’d been surprised then by how much smaller she looked without the robe. Now, barefoot, wearing a faded, oversize t-shirt and an unbelted cotton robe, she looked even more diminutive. Without the trappings of judgeship, there wasn’t much to her.
But there was no shortage of authority in her bearing or tone of voice. “You still haven’t told me why you came here, Mr. Hunt.”
His gaze was reluctant to leave the hem of the t-shirt that didn’t quite reach her bare knees, but he forced it to. “I want to ask you some questions, and I don’t trust phones. To say nothing of phone records.”
“Records or not, you and I shouldn’t be speaking privately.”
“Why not? Afraid we’ll get in trouble with Neal? Or are you intimidated by Nugent? A hard-nosed detective if ever I saw one.”
Ignoring the insult toward the younger officer, she said, “They’re conducting an
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