“Miss Lester.”
Travis Bystrowski stands when Briley sticks her head into his small office. The cluttered space is nondescript, at best, and a great deal smaller than her old office at Franklin, Watson, Smyth & Morton. Furthermore, the air smells stale.
But that’s probably due to the greasy bag of leftover something-or-other on the corner of the lawyer’s desk. She lifts her gaze. “It’s Briley Shackelford now.” She twiddles her left hand in front of the prosecutor’s face. “Been married all of two weeks.”
“Congratulations, then. You want to sit, or is this a drive-by greeting?”
“I’ve got a few minutes.” Briley drops into an empty guest chair, then looks out the window behind Bystrowski’s desk. The horizon is clear and blue, a sky radiant with the promise of spring. “Nice view.”
“Thanks…but something tells me you didn’t come up here to check out my office.”
“I came to ask about the Tomassis. What charges are they facing?”
Bystrowski swivels his chair. “We’ve got dear Papa T on solicitation of murder, solicitation of murder for hire, attempted murder, and aggravated battery, for starters. We’ve got Jason on all of the above, plus solicitation to commit battery…on you.” He lifts his head like a dog scenting the breeze. “Wait—your firm isn’t defending them, is it?”
She laughs. “Not hardly. I came here to drop my résumé in your boss’s office. I’m done with private practice.”
“Really?” The prosecutor leans back in his chair, that Boy Scout grin overtaking his face. “Hey, maybe you’ll get to prosecute them. But just so you know, I was hoping to take a crack at Papa T myself.”
“You can have them. If the state of Illinois will have me, I was going to ask about the DeLyles case.”
His smile vanishes, wiped away by earnestness. “The drug dealer who killed the single mom and then tried to sell her kids? I don’t know, Briley, that’s going to be a heavy case.”
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t want that monster hurting anyone else. If I get the job, assign me to the case. I’m up for it.”
Bystrowski stares at her for a moment, then he squints in amusement. “I suppose you are. I’ll put in a good word.”
“Thanks.” She picks up her briefcase and stands, then steps toward the door. “By the way—you might want to add another charge to the Tomassi indictment.”
“What charge?”
“Involuntary manslaughter. My client survived the attack at the jail, but someone else didn’t.”
For a moment, Bystrowski looks confused, then his face falls. “Bummer. Was she pregnant?”
“Not quite.” Briley idly runs her hand over the door frame, then raps on the wood. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t add the charge, but I’ll bet you’d be interested in the story. Sometime when you have an hour free for lunch, let me know and I’ll share.”
She’s two steps through the doorway when Bystrowski’s voice halts her in midstride. “Hey, Briley—the grass isn’t greener on this side of the fence, you know. Sometimes things are downright messy over here.”
She looks over her shoulder and gives him a confident smile. “I’m counting on it.”