Blind Faith - Sharon Sala Page 0,98
her head. “What do I need to know?”
They were getting set up when Charlie got a call. He walked out of the room to take it, and when he came back, he was grinning.
“The deposition has been canceled. Cyrus Parks isn’t going to trial. He took the plea agreement. Life without parole in a federal prison. So no opposing counsel is needing testimony.”
“What a pity. I was prepared for my close-ups,” Wyrick said, and strode out of the room.
Judd’s first impulse was to laugh, but the line was delivered with such a straight face, he wasn’t sure. Then he saw Charlie grinning and smiled.
“Is she always like that?”
“You mean, the cut-your-throat wit where you bleed out before you know it? Yeah, she’s always like that.”
Judd nodded. “I like that. Is she seeing anybody?”
The question took Charlie off guard.
“Uh...no.”
“Do you think she—?”
“Right now, I wouldn’t give any man on earth a snowball’s chance in hell of even getting a smile out of her. She’s in a fight for her life, Judd.”
Judd flushed.
“You’re right. Hell, I’m sorry. But she’s such a unique woman, I couldn’t help but—”
“You go do you, but I warned you.”
Judd nodded. “Got it,” he said, and packed up his briefcase and followed her to the outer office. “It was a pleasure to meet you. If you’re ever in the—”
It was the look she gave him that sucked up the last part of what he was going to say, and saved him from a humiliating turndown.
“...as I was going to say...if you ever have need of a lawyer again, you have my number.”
“Yes, I do,” she said, and then pressed the button at her desk to let him out.
“So, that’s the end of that for today. Wanna go home?”
She nodded.
“Then grab those sweet rolls. I’ll get the lights,” he said.
Within minutes, they were back in their respective vehicles, with Charlie bringing up the rear to make sure she wasn’t being tailed.
Charlie stayed out of her way the rest of the day, doing some research work for a client, while Wyrick did a follow-up on all of the details for tomorrow. The media company sent her video of the setup, including the big screens behind the podium and the rows of seats out in the ballroom.
They had the cameras set up for facial recognition, so Wyrick went in and linked her own FR program to their systems. There would be no crowd swarming in for seating. Instead, entering one by one, presenting the passes they’d received.
Hank Raines was all about the security for her, and had a team set up to man it all and verify the passes, and then other agents who would stand guard both on the stage behind her and down on the floor at either ends of the stage.
Charlie already knew his place. Beside her and two steps to her right—within her peripheral vision so she’d know he was there. The security level was presidential.
The rest of it was up to her.
Once he stopped by her office and set a Pepsi and a Snickers bar on her desk and left. The next time he saw her, she was in the kitchen, digging through the refrigerator.
“Do we need to order groceries again?”
She turned, then took a deep breath. Charlie was standing in the doorway in his sock feet wearing a pair of old gray sweatpants and a red long-sleeve T-shirt. The word outstanding came and went, and then she regained her focus.
“There’s food. I just don’t really want what’s here.”
“I can order. What sounds good?”
“Ribs.”
He grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.
“Good call. I’ll order. Want fries?”
“Yes, but that’s all. No slaw. No beans.”
“Meat and potatoes... My kind of woman,” Charlie said, and walked out without realizing what he’d said.
She knew he didn’t mean it the way she heard it, but it was a reminder not to get too comfortable with his presence. Once the shock and newness of her existence leveled off in the media, she would find a new normal and he would be gone.
And now that the decision of what to eat had been settled, she wandered back into the hall and then looked up.
The circular mural of naked nymphs romping with satyrs among a woodland setting had always intrigued her when she’d come here for the Mensa meetings. She had tried to imagine Merlin as a little boy growing up here, passing under this somewhat salacious artist rendering daily, but she never could see it. He would always be Merlin—the ancient wizard—to her.
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