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from a package of ultralight Capri, and took a seat slightly behind the pair. Apparently,the task of calming the two witnesses after the jury’s verdict had not gone well.
    “My husband practically lost his job,” Clarissa said, “coming home all hours to check on me. Worried out of his mind. He
begged
me to go to my mother’s in Boston—”
    “Not a bad idea,” Brenda told her, maintaining the calm but forceful voice Dixie’d heard her use with distraught victims in the courtroom. “Maybe you
should
go away for a while. Regan, maybe you should, too.”
    Regan blanched. “You really think—you think Lawrence will come after us?”
    “Frankly, I think he’ll be … looking for fresh game,” Brenda hedged. “But I can have patrol cars watching him—”
    “That’s what you said before!” Clarissa snapped.
    And before, when Coombs was charged with a crime, HPD had cause to watch him, Dixie added mentally. He was a free man now.
    Clarissa slapped her glass down on the table, spilling a few drops.
    “Hey, ladies!” Julie placed her hands on Clarissa’s shoulders and began kneading the rigid muscles. “Let’s all take a deep breath and start over.”
    Brenda shot her assistant a look of gratitude.
    But Clarissa shrugged off Julie’s hand. “You saw his smug smile when that jury gave the verdict.” Her face had flushed almost to the color of her wine. “How could they do that? Those women jurors—”
    “Maybe he got close to one of them,” Julie murmured. “You said he could be enchanting, Regan.”
    “Like a snake charmer, sweetie. Charm a cobra right out of its basket.”
    Brenda shook her head emphatically. “There was no indication of jury tampering,” Her voice remained even and firm. “Now, listen, we all need to calm down and put this behind us. A bar is no place to discuss it—I know a coffee shop down the street that makes the most decadent dessertsyou ever put in your mouth. Well talk about getting you both some protection—until we’re certain Coombs has lost interest.”
    “My husband says we should buy a gun,” Clarissa announced, glaring from Brenda to Julie.
    “Maybe he’s
right.
Maybe we should all carry guns.” Regan’s voice rose to a screech. “It’s legal now, isn’t it?”
    Brenda shook her head and began herding them toward the door. “Let’s talk first.” Glancing back at Dixie, she paused, allowing Julie to continue ushering the women ahead of her. “Want to join us?”
    “Thanks, but I really need to call Belle, and Parker’s probably got supper waiting.”
    Brenda smiled. “Dixie, I think you scooped up the last good catch in Houston.”
    Probably, though she wasn’t sure Parker could be caught.
“Or maybe there’s one more terrific guy out there, just waiting for you to poke your head up long enough to notice.” Dixie allowed her gaze to flicker toward the balding man at the bar.
    But Brenda didn’t follow the lead.
    “Unfortunately,” she muttered, “the only men I meet these days have numbers stenciled under their photographs.”
    As Brenda turned to go, Dixie realized she was holding the black pebble instead of her car keys. Rolling it between her thumb and forefinger, she watched her friend buck up in the aftermath of failure, frazzled yellow hair swinging above strong, determined shoulders.

Chapter Nine
    Lawrence Riley Coombs slipped his hand under the woman’s elbow and steered her toward the car, shielding her from the rain with an oversized umbrella. Fat raindrops plopped onto the taut fabric. The night was warm for early February, but a cold front was due to blow in and push the thunderclouds across the state line to Louisiana.
    “Watch the puddle, darlin’. Don’t get mud on those beautiful toes.”
She did have nice feet, set off by strappy high-heeled sandals. Nice legs, too.
    She giggled softly. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you sitting there at the bar all by your lonesome. You’re even more handsome in person