His brain swam with conflicting thoughts. He’d worked with Jessica many times before and her presence had never elicited this kind of reaction in him. In fact, she usually had the effect of annoying and frustrating him in their dealings. But today something had been different between them, something that had left him both electrified and apprehensive at the same time.
He’d spent the two years since Tory’s death throwing himself into work and avoiding personal contact. Today, he’d crossed that boundary without even seeing the line.
It was time to focus on his case again. But at least he knew Sarah was in good hands.
* * *
Jessica hit the light switch and scanned the room carefully before coming inside and locking the door behind her. Nothing seemed out of place. The butterfly on her prayer quilt was upright on her chair. The books on the window ledge were in order by title. No one would get through the window without her knowing. Her laptop was closed, the pen intentionally placed atop it still in its position.
Yet she had the eerie feeling someone was watching her and she thought she smelled men’s cologne.
Get a grip, Jessica.
It was probably only the aftereffects of her confrontation with Robert Young, but her emotions were on edge.
She checked the rest of the house but found no evidence that anyone had been there. Convinced she was imagining the strange scent, she set the pineapple upside down cake on the coffee table, certain Mrs. Brady had brought over that cake only as a means to check on her. It wasn’t every day— In fact, she’d never before brought a man to her home.
She should have invited him in for coffee. It was innocent and she trusted Andrew. And after the day’s events with Robert Young, the house seemed so dark and empty. She was tired of doing her usual routine of checking behind every door and inside every closet just to assure herself that no one was there. For once, she wanted to return home without being afraid.
Dean’s Den was her baby, her ministry, but even though she routinely stayed there for days on end, she enjoyed having a home of her own, a sanctuary where she could hide out and recharge after confronting so much violence and suffering.
But lately, she’d been praying about whether or not to keep it.
Was it right for her to have such a place when those she counseled had none? She sighed, thinking of the greater benefit her rent money could go to—new bed sheets, more games for the kids, another counseling room.
And even though she’d felt God leading her in that direction, He hadn’t yet provided her the clear sign she needed to make the change.
She was usually keyed up after a difficult confrontation, but something about this encounter felt different to her. She’d taken out her frustration on Andrew back at the shelter but truthfully it was herself she was mad at. She’d lost her professionalism. She’d looked into Robert’s eyes and seen a familiar face—a face that still haunted her even after all this time.
Mitch.
She rubbed her hand over the goose egg on her temple. Why was all this coming up now? It had more to do with Andrew than it did with Robert. He reminded her so much of Dean in the way he’d held on to Sarah. He’d risked his life and his career to help her.
Just as Dean had once done for her.
She picked up the photograph of her brother from the bookcase. She and Andrew didn’t always have to see eye to eye for her to help him. Whatever she had to do she vowed she would do it. She would not allow Andrew to give up his life to protect Sarah.
Her stomach clutched as a wave of loneliness enveloped her. She was twenty-six years old. Her heart insisted that was too young to give up on love, but her mind knew better. She’d already been down that road once before only to have it end in tragedy. She had no illusions about love and relationships.
Yet when she’d stared into Andrew’s fierce green eyes...
She pushed those thoughts away. Of course he was handsome. Every woman in the television viewing area knew he was handsome.
But she would never again be fooled by a handsome face and boyish charm.
* * *
Leslie Wells, the receptionist at the district attorney’s office, met Andrew as he walked through the door. “He wants to see you.”
Andrew glanced at his watch. He’d been gone for several hours after getting Sarah’s messages. He didn’t even bother going to his office first to drop off his coat and briefcase. He knocked on Bill’s door then stepped inside. “You wanted to see me?”
Bill Foster leaned back in his chair, folded his arms and studied Andrew. “You didn’t answer my calls.”
“I know. I apologize. I had an emergency.
“You know who does return my calls? Jason Clark. He said you didn’t come back after the lunch recess then went missing most of the afternoon.”
Andrew grimaced. Jason Clark was a first-year attorney fresh out of law school with a lot of ambition and an oversize ego. “I had an emergency with my sister.” He hated using that excuse again but he had no choice. He’d kept Bill in the loop about what was happening with Sarah and, so far, his boss had been reasonable about giving him the necessary time. But with the election season about to go into full swing and Bill eyeing the state’s attorney general position, Andrew knew he had to watch his step. “I can assure you everything is fine now. Sarah is safe and my focus is now solely on this trial.”
“This is a big case for our office, Andrew. A conviction could do a lot to benefit your career.”
Brian Trevino was a career criminal with multiple counts of home invasion on his rap sheet. He’d already served two stretches for burglary at Parchman Prison and now he was on trial for two counts of homicide related to a home invasion where he’d killed a fifty-two-year-old couple when they awoke and discovered him inside their home. A conviction would do wonders for Bill’s campaign.
“We’re ready.”
“Good. I’ll be stopping by the courthouse tomorrow. I think I’ll bring CJ along with me and let her see how a good trial lawyer does his job.”
Andrew understood his meaning. CJ Bennett was another up-and-coming attorney in the office. She’d been biting at Andrew’s tail to grab the biggest and most profiled cases she could get. She was hungry to make a name for herself. Bill’s not-so-veiled threat was clear—do a good job on the trial or he might find his attentions turning toward CJ instead of him.
“I won’t let you down, Bill.”
“I hope not, for your sake.”
Andrew accepted the admonishment and left. He dropped his coat in his office as he gathered his files. His team was scheduled to meet in the conference room for a last-minute strategy session. And the number one item on Andrew’s agenda for the meeting was to ream Jason Clark about squealing to the boss.
* * *
Jessica’s cell phone buzzed, alerting her to a message. She checked it and saw it was from Margo. Perhaps she hadn’t gotten out of that rebuke, after all.
Her friend was at the door a moment later. “I cannot believe you did that,” Margo said, storming into the house. The disapproving look on her face was not surprising. It was no secret what her friend was referring to—going to Sarah’s house alone.
“It was an emergency situation. The husband was escalating. The wife needed to get out. I saw an opening and I took it.”
“You should have called me before you went over there. Did Mr. ‘Oh, I’m so wonderful’ convince you to go?”
“No, actually, I have a friend in the Pearl Police Department who called me. He said Robert Young was a maniac, and he was right. Sarah was in real danger staying there. Andrew has reason to be concerned about her.”
“That