A Killing at the Creek by Nancy Allen

Author:Nancy Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

PUSHING OPEN THE door to Associate Division 3, Elsie spotted Chuck Harris at the counsel table in Judge Carter’s courtroom. Chuck reclined in his chair, with his feet stretched out before him.

“You’re the picture of relaxation,” Elsie said.

“The product of a clear conscience,” he replied.

She handed the State v. Tanner Monroe file to him. “Thought you might want this.”

Chuck took the file and tossed it on the table. “Don’t get all wrought up. The public defender is waiving preliminary.”

“You mean the conflicts public defender,” said Elsie.

The local public defender’s office had declined to represent Tanner Monroe. They claimed they had a conflict, as they’d been appointed previously to defend Barry Bacon’s drug case, and until investigation of his hanging was completed, they would not undertake Tanner Monroe’s murder defense.

“Have you talked to the conflict attorney today?”

“Nope. Been busy.” Chuck pulled out the McCown County Record and turned to the entertainment section. “Do you think I could get on The Bachelor? They’re holding auditions in Oklahoma City.”

Elsie managed to look away before he could see her expression. “Chuck, I think you match the profile perfectly. Go for it.”

Eldon, Carter’s bailiff, was sitting at his desk beside the judge’s chambers door. Hanging up the phone, he said, “I’m going to the jail to get that boy. It’s dang near time.”

As he left, Elsie pulled up a chair beside Chuck and sat. “Conflict PD is late,” she observed.

“Always,” Harris agreed.

The door to the courtroom opened with a creak. Looking over her shoulder, Elsie saw Bob Ashlock.

She looked away with a jerk of her chin, turning in her seat so she faced the empty jury box. She and Ashlock had not spoken since their run-­in in the coffee shop.

Chuck waved, calling, “What brings you here, bro?”

Elsie hid a smirk. She didn’t expect Bob considered Chuck a brother.

Ashlock said, “I thought I’d make sure you don’t need me today, Harris.”

Chuck tipped back in the chair, crossing his feet on the table. “Wasted a trip, dude. Monroe’s waiving.”

Ashlock nodded. “I think I’ll stay and watch. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” He took a seat in the back row of the gallery.

Elsie kept her back to him, her posture rigidly erect. Despite the frosty air-­conditioning in the courtroom, she felt her face grow warm. She couldn’t help but remember the words spoken in the car after the trip from Tulsa. The words still rang in her ears: Stupid. Irresponsible. Unprofessional. Immature. Motherfucker, she thought, her heart rate increasing.

Hanging over the back of his chair, Chuck asked Ashlock about the progress of the forensic testing on evidence seized from the bus. Ashlock answered in the baritone voice Elsie loved so well. Used to love, she corrected herself.

When Harris cracked a joke, Ashlock laughed, and Elsie’s body reacted involuntarily to the sound.

What the fuck is the matter with me, she mused, running her fingers through her long hair and pulling it away from her face. She stood abruptly. “I better get downstairs,” she said, and turned to go.

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