“You spilled coffee on your shirt.”
Summer looked down at the spot Nan was pointing to and sighed. She’d already changed one blouse because of a missing button, and she hoped she had another one in the closet that matched this suit. It was definitely a Monday morning. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” She pointed at the counter. “That’s Faith’s lunch. Do you mind shoving it in a bag for me?” She started toward the stairs, but Nan pulled her into a hug as she walked by.
“Take a deep breath and slow down. You’re nervous, but everything is going to be fine.”
Summer breathed in and out several times in slow succession. “Thanks, that helped.”
“But you’re still nervous.”
“Yes. It’s been a while.”
“Since you were in court or since you were serious about someone?”
Summer’s first instinct was to protest, but she knew it was pointless to pretend with Nan. She’d tiptoed in before sunrise on Saturday morning, but Nan didn’t need to be awake to be aware. She was surprised Nan had waited this long to broach the topic. “Both.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Maybe, but not now. I’ve got to run. But I would really appreciate it if you could give Faith a ride to school.”
“Done. Now go change your shirt and help Owen win her case. Bring her home for dinner when you’re done.”
Summer took the stairs two at a time, shaking her head at how easily Nan had reached the conclusion that she and Owen were an item after one night together. She’d talked to Owen several times since Saturday, but she hadn’t seen her, and the distance was disconcerting. Owen said she needed the time alone to focus on her voir dire and opening statement, but Summer couldn’t help but wonder if she was having regrets. She supposed she would find out today when she showed up for her role as jury consultant. If she could find another shirt, that was.
She rummaged through her closet and found one blouse that would work, though the sleeves were shorter than she liked. She shoved it on and was fastening the buttons when Faith burst in her room looking like a mini lawyer in the black suit she had bought her for Charlie’s memorial service. “Looking sharp. What’s the occasion?”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“To court. It’ll be educational. Besides, I don’t really have a good idea about what you do, and we were just assigned a paper in English to write about what our parents do for a living. See, it’ll be like homework.”
Summer silently cursed the teacher who’d given such a thoughtless assignment and imagined what everyone would think if she showed up with her daughter in tow. She’d have mixed feelings about having Faith along, but the fact that this was a murder case with some gruesome testimony about Mrs. Adams’s death made her decision easy. “Aw, honey, some other time. I promise.”
“You say that, but it’s just to put me off. Come on, why can’t I skip school for one day and come with you?”
Summer stared into the pleading face of her daughter and tried to conjure up an excuse that wasn’t a typical adult “because I said so.” “There won’t be any space in the courtroom for you to sit, and even if there was, you’d be bored out of your mind because nothing of consequence is happening today.”
“Where are you going to sit?”
“I’ll be sitting with Owen at the prosecutor’s table.”
“And there are absolutely no other seats in the room?”
Summer worked hard to keep her tone even, but her patience was wearing thin. “Seriously, Faith. I know you have a math test today and I know it’s your least favorite topic. The internet leaves no mysteries like it did back when I was in school. I got an email from Mrs. Halsworth saying you’re having trouble in math. You’ve never had trouble in math before.”
“And you’ve never been such a stickler for keeping tabs on me, so I guess we’re even.”
Nan appeared at the door. “What’s all the commotion, people?”
“Mom’s being unreasonable.”
Summer resisted the urge to say, “Am not.” She pointed toward the door. “Nan’s taking you to school this morning. Don’t keep her waiting.”
Faith crossed her arms and sat down. “I don’t feel so good.”
Summer placed a hand on her forehead. “You feel fine to me. Besides, if you’re too sick to go to school, you sure aren’t well enough to come to the courthouse with me.”
“Fine, I’ll go to school. Will you at least tell Owen I said hi or is she just your friend now?”
And bam, now she knew what was wrong. Faith had asked her twice if they could invite Owen over during the rest of the weekend. She’d begged off with the excuse that Owen was deep in trial prep. Which was true, but not a complete barrier because she was fairly certain she could’ve talked Owen into coming over. But she hadn’t. Not because she didn’t want to see Owen. She did. Desperately. But she was worried she’d spend all of dinner looking at her with goo-goo eyes and telegraph that they were more than colleagues now. More than friends. She didn’t want Faith, or Nan for that matter, to know more until she figured out for herself what it meant.
She knew what she wanted it to mean. She’d been falling for Owen since the day she’d walked into the courtroom looking all in charge and gorgeous, but she sensed that Owen’s feelings were a jumbled mix and she didn’t want to try to untangle them without her permission. Owen may have invited her into her bedroom, but she could tell Owen wasn’t ready to accept her gift, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk giving her heart to someone who couldn’t embrace her completely, vibes and all. Of course, after Friday night, it might be too late to pull back now.
She pulled Faith into a hug. “I love you, kiddo, and I’m pretty sure there’s plenty of Owen to go around. Go to school and take your math test. I’ll bring tacos home for dinner, and I’ll see if Owen has some time to get together as soon as this trial is over. Deal?”
Faith gave an exaggerated sigh. “Deal.”
Summer kissed the top of her head and then dashed to her car. If she hurried she could still get to the courthouse in time to meet with Owen and Mary while the potential jurors were filling out their questionnaires.
Monday morning at the courthouse was vastly different from when she’d reported on a Friday for jury duty. There was a line out the front door that ran down the steps of the building. She remembered Owen telling her about the entrance through the parking garage by the cafeteria, so she walked down there and found it slightly easier to get in. Most of the people in line appeared to be attorneys, judging by the briefcases and tote bags, so security gave them only a cursory glance and she was through a lot faster than if she’d waited upstairs. Once in the building, she took the stairs to Owen’s office and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Summer smoothed her hands over her suit and let out a pent-up breath. She was way more nervous about seeing Owen again than she cared to admit, especially since she would be seeing her with a lot of other people around on a day when Owen’s mind would be distracted by a million things none of which had anything to do with her. She reached for the doorknob, but it swung away from her before she could connect.
“You’re here.”
Summer stared at Owen and spotted eager pleasure in the smile on her face. “You sound surprised.”
Owen looked over her shoulder and then tugged her gently into the room, shutting and locking the door behind her. She placed a hand on either side of her head and took Summer’s lips between her own. The rest of the world fell away for the next few seconds and Summer lost herself in the long, slow kiss.
When Owen pulled away, it took all the fortitude she possessed not to grab her shirt and pull her back in for more. She touched her fingertips to her lips. “That’s the kind of good morning I could get used to.”
“I missed you this weekend.”
“I figured you’d be too busy working to miss me.” Summer tried to sound upbeat, but it was hard to keep a wistfulness from her voice since she’d spent most of yesterday hoping Owen would suggest they get together.
“I may have been too busy missing you to work.” Owen smiled. “I did my best to work, but I missed you in my bed.”
“That makes two of us.”
“My grand idea about staying apart so I could focus was a complete failure, so I was thinking we could try something else.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Have dinner with me tonight. For real this time. I really want to see you outside of this place, and maybe if I do, I’ll have a better chance of focusing while we’re here.”
“I’d love to, but I promised Faith I’d bring tacos home for dinner.” She caught the disappointed look on Owen’s face. “How about joining us? I know it’s not the same as having dinner with just the two of us, but she’d love to see you. She was talking about you this morning.”
“And you? Would you love to see me? With tacos?”
“I would love to see you with or without tacos.” She ran a finger along the edge of Owen’s shirt collar. “Except you’re going to have to change clothes before you come over because these shirts drive me crazy.”
“It’s just the shirts, huh?”
“It’s the sexy combo of the shirts and you in them. Irresistible.”
“Duly noted.”
Owen kissed her again. A light, soft kiss. Summer could think of no better way to start the workday than with kisses from Owen, and when she heard a loud knock on the door, she realized she was the one with the fractured focus, and it was totally worth it.
✥ ✥ ✥
Owen sat at counsel table and focused on tuning out the chatter in the courtroom coming from attorneys and their clients who were dealing with day-to-day court business during this break. She and her team were in the process of reviewing their notes along with the stack of juror questionaries while the jury panel waited outside the room to find out if they’d been chosen. Normally, she’d find a quieter place to sort through her notes, but with an extra person on the prosecution team, they needed more space than the cramped quarters of the DA workroom.
The last time she’d been through this process, Summer had been standing outside with the other potential jurors, but now she was sitting beside her, ready to help pick the people who would decide the most high profile case Owen had tried to date, and drawing her attention in ways that had nothing to do with any aspect of this murder trial. The past few weeks had wrought a ton of change, and while she had doubts Summer would have anything to add to the trial team other than her proven sharp intuition, she was grateful to have Summer by her side.
Dalton, the bailiff, approached. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
“We’ll be ready,” Owen said. She turned to Mary, Kira, and Summer. “I’ve got concerns about one, five, eight, fifteen, and twenty-three. That’s five strikes. Talk to me about who else you think we should add to the list.”
Kira pointed at the chart on the table. “Twenty has a sister with a record. She didn’t raise her hand when you asked about it, but I found it when I was running names.”
“Maybe she didn’t think it was important,” Summer said. “Considering the kind of case this is.”
“And you know this how?” Kira replied, not bothering to hide her disdain for Summer’s opinion.
“Just a hunch.”
“Owen, I guess it’s up to you,” Kira said. “Are you going to start trusting hunches?” She left it implied that she meant Summer’s hunches in particular.
Owen wondered if Summer knew something she wasn’t sharing, but decided if she did know something definitive, she would say so. “Hunches are all we have right now. What’s the sister’s record?”
“Couple of DWIs. She did some jail time on the second one.”
“Sounds like a toss-up to me,” Mary said. She held her hands like she was balancing a scale. “DWI. Murder.” She shook her head. “Bothers me a little that she didn’t mention it, but it’s possible she didn’t know. It’s not like my sisters tell me everything that happens in their lives, unless they’re trying to one-up me. This isn’t that.”
Owen turned to Summer. “Do you like her for this case?”
“She seems neutral. She won’t be a leader on the jury, and she’ll follow whoever has the strongest personality as long as that person isn’t completely off the rails.”
Owen put a star in the box on the chart with twenty’s name. “Okay, let’s move on. If we’re left with this group, who’s the stand-out for foreperson?”
Kira pointed to the box marked nine. “This guy. He’s confident, manages a large consulting business, and I bet he’s used to having to hear a bunch of opinions and distill them down to one decision.”
Owen nodded. Kira definitely had a point. On paper the guy was excellent foreman material, but the patronizing way he answered a few of the questions bothered her. “Mary, your thoughts?”
“He’s definitely leader material. Not sure I have a good handle on which side that would fall down on, though.”
Owen avoided Kira’s gaze. “Summer?”
“You know, you should all go with your gut.”
“Sounds like you have an opinion. Come on, share it with us.” Owen watched Summer hesitate and shoot a glance at Kira before she started speaking like she was reluctant to cross her but felt like she had to.
Summer cleared her throat and started talking rapidly, like she was trying to get it all out before she could change her mind. “He’s a chauvinist. He’s never going to give as much weight to anything you and Mary have to say with a man leading the defense team. Add to that your victim is a woman and the defendant is a man, and his views are even more problematic. He’ll bully jurors like twenty and four and seven, and they’ll go his way no matter how the evidence plays out. I’d strike him.”
“That was super specific,” Kira said. “So much for hunches.”
“This one isn’t a hunch,” Summer said. “His thoughts are loud and clear. If you’re listening.” She looked at Owen. “I bet you heard them.”
Had she? She’d formed the same opinion as Summer, but she attributed her conclusion about juror nine to years of training, not some kind of psychic powers. Whatever the source, she had to make a decision and she was torn between wanting to believe she could sway juror number nine and going with Summer’s analysis. Remembering back to Summer’s own jury service, she decided to go with her gut. She scrawled his name on the strike list. “That’s six.” She held the paper in the air, and Dalton came over to collect it.
“I’ll be back with the final list in a few minutes,” he said as he took the paper from her hand. “Judge says she’s going to seat the jury today, but then she’s got to finish up a sentencing from last week’s trial. If you’ve got any pretrial motions that still need to be heard, she’ll get to those right after she wraps up the other case. We’ll start back first thing in the morning for opening statements, and then she wants you to have your first few witnesses ready to go right after opening.”
Owen digested the information, recalibrating for the change in plans. Her opening statement was simple and straightforward, but she’d been geared up to give it today. She was used to the roller coaster of trial, where making a solid plan was asking for disruption, but with all the press attention this case had garnered, she’d prefer not to wait. She spotted Summer looking at her with an encouraging smile.
“You got this.”
Had she heard Summer’s thoughts, or was she still so swept up in the afterglow that she imagined Summer’s gift was real and had rubbed off on her? She returned the smile and then sprang to her feet with the rest of the group when Judge Whalen walked through the door behind the bench.
“Take a seat. I understand we have a jury,” she said, pulling out a pair of readers and scanning the paper Dalton handed her. “Where’s Mr. Ramsey?”
Mark Ramsey appeared from the holdover, followed by his client, who was led by a sheriff’s deputy, and they both took a seat at the defense counsel table. While Dalton delivered a copy of the final jury list to both sides, Owen took a moment to assess the defendant who she’d seen exactly one other time during the course of the case. Arthur Fuentes almost looked like a regular guy, dressed in a suit and tie, although he was significantly thinner than he had been at the arraignment months ago. Obviously, jail didn’t agree with him. Too bad.
She felt a light touch on her arm from behind, where Summer had taken a seat in the first row of the gallery. Summer handed her a folded piece of paper, which Owen took and surreptitiously opened out of Mary’s or Kira’s sightline. Can I meet him?
Him who? She looked back at Summer, who nodded toward Fuentes. Why did she want to meet him? She shook her head. It didn’t matter why. There was no way Ramsey was going to let his client meet with anyone on the prosecution team, and Owen didn’t need Summer calling anything about this case into question, not on the literal eve of trial. She wrote the request off as Summer trying to be thorough, and she stuck the note in her pocket, ready to focus on the final jury list.
Their conversation about juror number twenty had turned out to be a total waste of time since the defense had used a preemptory strike on her. As the bailiff called the names of the jurors who’d made it onto the jury, she took her time looking each one over, noting their expressions, their posture, their attentiveness, careful to keep her own expression serious but not off-putting as the judge swore them in and gave them initial instructions about what would be expected of them during the course of the trial. When Whalen dismissed them until morning, Owen felt like she had a good handle on the group and would be ready to pitch her opening statement with maximum effectiveness in the morning.
As the courtroom cleared, she addressed her group. “Kira, let the mayor and the commissioner know they are first up tomorrow, right after opening. Next, we’ll have the ME, Joule, and we’ll finish out with Detective Garcia. Make sure everyone is here and ready to go when it’s their turn. I don’t want any delays between witnesses. Mary, let’s meet for lunch to go over the motions you filed this morning. I have a few suggestions for argument. Summer, will you walk me to my office?”
She waited until they were in the stairwell to say anything to Summer. “Sorry to be so abrupt back there.”
“You’re under a lot of pressure. I didn’t mean to add to it. I figure it couldn’t hurt to ask.”
“Why do you want to talk to him?”
“I’m not entirely sure.”
“He’s guilty, Summer. No one disputes it. Joule saw him leaving the house right after the shots were fired. There’s not a shred of evidence to point to someone else pulling the trigger.”
Summer nodded. “I get it. I do. But there are signs that there’s another layer to what happened that night. Why else would I have had the vision of Joule being attacked if not to lead me to work on this case? And Mrs. Adams appeared to me in the commissioner’s office. What she said didn’t make sense at the time because we were focused on whether the commissioner had anything to do with her death, but what if she was telling us to dig deeper when it came to the case overall?”
Owen hesitated. She wanted the truth as much as anyone, but she wasn’t convinced Summer talking to Fuentes was going to be revelatory. “If you thought talking to Fuentes would give you some insight, why didn’t you ask before the trial started?”
“Would you have let me if I had?”
Owen felt tested. Summer wanted to know if she trusted her gift, and she answered as honestly as she could. “I don’t know.”
“I get it,” Summer said. “I didn’t know talking to him might be helpful until he walked into the courtroom. Maybe I just feel the need to be thorough. Close the loop. Is there harm in trying?”
Owen wished she knew the answer. “Ramsey won’t agree, and I don’t want to ask for fear he’ll read something into it.”
Summer reached for her hand. “Hey, I get it. Forget I brought it up. Treat me like you would anyone else on your team. Your word is final, and I respect that. The last thing you need is an annoying girlfriend pestering you for special favors.”
Girlfriend. Girlfriend? Had Summer just used that word in reference to her? And why wasn’t she running in the opposite direction at the sound of it? Owen looked down when Summer released her hand, instantly missing the warmth of her touch.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“I’m trying to figure out what other way you might have meant it,” Owen said, careful to keep her tone neutral.
A loud creak sounded and they both looked down to see a door open on the floor beneath them. Mia’s intern, Tad, poked his head through and looked up at her. “Owen, Ms. Rivera would like you to join her for lunch if you’re available.”
It wasn’t a question and Owen didn’t have a choice. Mia would want a full report on jury selection and she wanted it right freaking now if she sent her intern to skulk around in stairwells to find her. So much for a few moments of alone time in her office with Summer, although instead of secret kissing, they’d probably be discussing the word “girlfriend” and what it meant to both of them, a discussion Owen couldn’t possibly handle when her head was focused on the trial.
“Tell Ms. Rivera I’ll be right there,” Owen said to Tad. She waited until she heard the door shut again before facing Summer. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“I know.”
“We can talk later, just not, you know, right now.”
“Of course,” Summer said. “After the trial is over.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
“Okay, well, I should go,” Owen said, wondering why she was more agitated than relieved that Summer was being so understanding.
Summer glanced around, and then leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “For luck. Which you don’t need. You got this.”
Without waiting for a response, she took the stairs back down to the floor below and disappeared out the door. Owen watched her every step and thought of a dozen things she should’ve said, and hoped it wasn’t too late when she was finally ready to say them.