Jury Town (25 page)

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

This time she kissed him. “I like being a guest at White House parties.” She smiled. “But at some point in the near future I want to host them.”

Oh, yes, she was the perfect political wife.

BLACKSBURG, VIRGINIA

Angela tumbled down onto the mattress from atop Trent and eased back onto the pillows. Her heart was still going a million miles an hour. She’d never felt anything like that in her life.

“That was incredible.” She could barely breathe. “Where am I?”

He chuckled as he pulled her onto his broad chest, then pulled the covers up over both of them.

“I’m assuming from your reaction you’ve heard that before.”

“Once or twice,” he admitted, caressing her shoulder.

“I’ve been waiting twenty-five years for that,” she admitted in a dreamy tone.

“I know.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so smug about—”

“So have I.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that, Trent?”

“I don’t think I really knew it until that day we met on the beach. But I realized it then for sure. And I really did want to wait until the campaign was over. But after I saw you onstage today whipping ten thousand people into a frenzy, well I couldn’t resist anymore. I had to have you.” He glanced down at her as he caressed her shoulder. “You had every person in that arena in the palm of your hand, including me.”

“I’ve never experienced anything like it,” she admitted, then laughed when she realized what she’d just said. “Not until two minutes ago, anyway.” She shook her head as she ran her fingernails across his chest. “I had the two most incredible experiences of my life in the same afternoon. That shouldn’t happen to a girl. It’s all downhill from here.”

“No way. The day you’re elected a United States senator and you take down Chuck Lehman will be even better. I guarantee it.”

JURY TOWN

The cleaning woman glanced over her shoulder to make certain she was alone in Felicity West’s room. All of Wing Three was closed off to jurors while they changed beds, vacuumed floors, and dusted—but at least ten other members of the cleaning staff were on the wing, and she couldn’t chance being surprised by one of them. That could mean being fired, facing criminal charges, and, worst of all, losing out on ten thousand tax-free dollars.

Her fingers shook as she reached into her pocket, lifted the pillow of the freshly changed bed, and slipped the note between the mattress and the pillow.

Then she headed out, glad that they were keeping no official register of who had cleaned which room.

As she emerged from the room, she nearly ran into the guard who had been in charge of watching this cleaning shift. He seemed to take an extra-long, suspicious look at her.

Hopefully, she was just imagining things. Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely breathe.

CHAPTER 32

RICHMOND, VIRGINIA

Victoria sprinted down the long hospital corridor—past gurneys, wheelchairs, doctors, and nurses, with Dez on her heels.

She’d gotten the jarring call fifteen minutes ago out of the blue and bolted from her office in downtown Richmond immediately, without even grabbing her pocketbook, shrieking for Dez to get her to the hospital. Cameron’s vital signs were quickly deteriorating.

Dez had driven the lead Escalade himself, with two subordinates inside and two more bulletproof black SUVs trailing.

Victoria raced into the hospital room, dodging a young nurse who tried to restrain her, and rushed to Cameron’s side, sinking into the chair beside the bed and slipping her hand into his as he lay there on his back.

She was too late. His fingers were already cold. The bullet through his lung had ultimately killed him. The surgeons had been wrong.

“I’m sorry, Cam,” she whispered as the first heavy sob wracked her body. “I owe you everything.” Tears spilled down her cheeks in rivers. “I’ll call your mom. I’ll tell her . . . what a good son . . . what a
great
man you are . . . were.”

Dez grimaced as he glanced away, then ushered the young nurse out and closed the door when sobs overwhelmed Victoria, and her forehead fell slowly to Cameron’s pale hand.

After a few moments she rose up and hurried straight for him. “Hold me, Dez,” she begged, overwhelmed by how alone in the world—and scared—she was.

His strong arms comforted her, and she was reminded of how her father had held her in the parking lot the day he’d been released from Archer Prison.

“I’m getting your shirt wet,” she murmured, pulling away. Dez’s shirt smelled so good, unlike her father’s. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop it,” he said sympathetically, easing her face gently back against his chest.

“I need to go somewhere,” she whispered.

“Where?”

“Anywhere but here. Take me . . . please.”

WASHINGTON, DC

“Rockwell’s running all over the Internet to find us.”

“Do you have track-and-trace on him?”

“I’m watching him as we speak. He’s found three of us. His virtual fingerprints are everywhere.”

“He cannot be allowed to find Walter Morgan.”

“That would be very difficult for him to do . . . but, unfortunately . . . not impossible.”

“I’m disappointed in Mr. Rockwell. I was hoping he’d be more satisfied to stay in his place and not go digging for things we cannot have him find. I was hoping the money would be enough and that we’d found a permanent solution in him.”

“As we all were hoping. That’s the reason I’ve gone straight to JD Mr. Rockwell cannot be trusted. He’s trying to insulate himself, trying to find ways to protect himself. I’m glad we decided to keep watching him.”

“Yes, you were right. Time left?”

“A minute. I’ll let you know as we close in. What do you have?”

“The information has been passed to Felicity West. It details what we know about her and, in no uncertain terms, what we’ll do unless she votes to acquit Commonwealth Electric Power.”

“How did it happen?”

“I’ll give Rockwell this. He did a nice job of recruiting George Garrison, the head of the guards at Jury Town. Garrison had one of his thugs get to a cleaning woman. Of course, now that Garrison’s taken a bribe, he’s ours for good. We’ll feed him a little along the way, for insurance, but he’s in our pocket.”

“Everyone has a price.”

“Felicity West is still in the jury room; court’s still in session. But she’s in for a nasty surprise when she gets to her room.”

“Angela Gaynor has a nasty surprise of her own approaching.”

“If we can’t manipulate juries, we’ll manipulate the evidence.”

“Exactly. Although, thanks to Garrison, it looks like we’re back in business in Virginia.”

“It didn’t take long, and it’s so much more dependable in the long run.”

“Money talks, bullshit walks. That’s the mantra.”

“That’s
always
the mantra.”

They shared a harsh laugh.

“And Victoria Lewis?”

“She remains a top priority.”

“Fifteen seconds.”

“That’s all I have. Good timing.”

“Fight on.”

“Yes, fight on, my brother.”

JURY TOWN

“Hi, David.”

Someone tapped Racine gently on the shoulder, and he glanced up from a delicious dinner of roasted chicken and dumplings—straight into Sofia Acosta’s dazzling green eyes.

“May I sit with you?”

“Of course,” he answered—a little too loudly, he chastised himself—and stood up to hold her chair out.

He’d arrived this afternoon and hadn’t finished arranging his room on Wing Four when dinner was served. Tantalizing aromas had seeped into his room, and he was famished, so he’d left the rest of settling in for later. It felt surreal—and lonely—being locked inside these walls. It was only the first day, the first few
hours
, but he wasn’t certain he’d ever become accustomed to it. Two years was going to seem like ten.

He’d been agonizing over whether Claire had made it to Los Angeles all right—she had a connecting flight. He’d dropped her off at the Richmond airport and then reported directly to Jury Town—and not knowing if she was okay was killing him. He wouldn’t know if she’d arrived all right for two years. He was definitely hungry; however, he’d also been hoping dinner would distract him from her trip. But it hadn’t.

Seeing Sofia did.

“It’s nice to see a familiar face.”

“You’re telling me,” she agreed. “I’ve been walking around like a zombie, not knowing anyone.” She gestured toward the middle of the room as she put her tray down and sat in the chair he was holding. “Thank you.” A hundred people or so were eating. “They all came to Jury Town together. It’s been hard breaking in.”

Racine grinned as he sat back down. “I don’t imagine it’s too hard for you to meet the men. The women I get, but not the men.” He regretted the remark when a self-conscious expression clouded her face. “I meant that in a nice way. I meant no disrespect.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “It didn’t occur to me when I ran into you that day that you’d be heading here, too.”

“Well, here I am.”

“Yes . . . here you are.”

“Are you on a jury yet?” he asked.

“No. But we’re starting a selection process tomorrow morning.”

“Jury Room Nine?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been called to that one, too. That’s an interesting little monitor on the desk, lots of information.”

“Including Victoria’s quote of the day and one thing at the bottom of the screen that I don’t—”

“Hopefully, we’ll be on that jury together,” Racine interrupted gently.

“I’d like that.”

Their relationship was in its infancy, but he could always tell when he’d made a connection with someone. He definitely had with Sofia. It was all in those glistening eyes.

She still had that dark halo of sadness to her, though the fear he’d noticed that day outside Victoria’s office seemed to have eased. Maybe she still needed a strong shoulder. Victoria had offered him no details as to what she’d meant by the remark.

“It is difficult coming in after everyone else. I had a hard time making up my mind if I would. You?”

“Mine was a last-minute thing,” Sofia answered. “I didn’t go through quite the same process you did.”

She seemed to be struggling with how much to say. Was her sadness connected to whatever personal reason had led her in here? “Look, um, you don’t . . . you don’t have to—”

Before he could fumble anymore, she cut in, her voice a whisper just loud enough for him to hear.

“See those two?” She nodded at a pair of women who’d just passed by, holding their dinner trays. “They’re both on a jury involving Commonwealth Electric Power. I overheard one of them say that she can’t wait to find CEP guilty because she’s got a personal vendetta.”

Racine glanced at the women who’d sat down a few tables away, his pulse ticking up. Victoria was savvy, obviously, but he hadn’t expected to find the sorts of flaws in the system she was looking for so quickly. “Which one?”

Felicity smiled as she breezed into her room to change for the marathon round-robin pool tournament she, Kate, and Wilson were waging tonight. The room smelled fresh and clean. She loved it.