Star Witness - By Mallory Kane Page 0,25

happened. Start from the beginning, as if I’ve never heard it before. You’ve never testified on the stand, right?”

Dani nodded. “That’s right.”

“Keep in mind that facing a jury as a witness is very different from facing them as an attorney.”

Dani bristled at Harte’s tone. Now that he was talking about the trial and her testimony, he’d switched to his imperious prosecutor’s voice. She didn’t like it. It made her feel as if she were back in the courtroom, facing off against him.

Her immediate instinct was to shoot a cutting response at him, but it was beginning to dawn on her how hard it was going to be to sit in that witness box and talk about her granddad’s murder in front of a judge, a jury and the man responsible for his death. So she bit her tongue and nodded again.

His brows twitched, but he didn’t comment. Had he expected a retort? “Okay,” he said. “Go ahead.”

For a second, she wasn’t sure how to begin. “I’ve thought about that night so many times you’d think I wouldn’t have any trouble describing what happened.” She rubbed her temple.

“Why don’t you start with what you were doing that day?”

“Okay.” She nodded. “That was the day of the City Hall Awards Banquet.”

“That’s right,” Harte commented with a grimace. “The annual rent-a-tux rent-a-crowd.”

“Exactly,” she said with a smile that lightened her expression and put a twinkle in her eyes. “I was going, of course. I’d even bought a new dress. But I caught a stomach bug. I ended up throwing up all day. Granddad brought me some crackers and ginger ale—” She had to swallow hard before she could continue.

“So I’d finally gotten to sl-sleep—” Her breath hitched. “Oh, this is awful.” Her fingers massaged her temple. “Let me start over.”

“No,” Harte said. “You’re doing great.”

She shot him a skeptical look. “Anyway, I woke up hearing voices.” She shifted in her chair. “They were yelling. I heard one of them say, ‘You’ll do it or you’ll regret it,’ and Granddad yelled back, ‘You sons of bitches can go to hell.’ That was just like him. He didn’t suffer fools gladly.”

Harte nodded and smiled back at her. For some reason his smile made her feel better.

“I was groggy and weak, so at first I didn’t pay much attention. I figured it was one of his friends and they were arguing about politics. That wasn’t unusual. He had guests several evenings a week. I used to scold him about not getting enough sleep.” She sighed. “If I’d gotten up then—” Her heart ached with a hollow, sharp pain.

“Hey, don’t go there. Just stick with the facts. Stay on point. You’re fine.” He laid his hand on top of hers where it rested on the table and squeezed it.

She looked down, surprised at the gesture. It didn’t bother her. Just the opposite, in fact. His large, warm hand felt so good, so comforting, over hers. She longed to turn her hand over and clutch his. She wanted, needed, comfort so badly. But she’d already discovered that she was much too vulnerable to his good looks. She pulled away.

“Watch out,” she said. “The jury might think you’re fraternizing with your witness.” She aimed for a smile and a light tone. When his gaze snapped to hers, she realized she’d failed. She’d meant it as a joke, but now, her gaze caught by his, she felt something flare between them. Something hot and intimate. Much more intimate than the touch of a hand or a glance should be.

A flash of lightning and its accompanying clap of thunder made her jump, and that quickly, the spell was broken.

Harte withdrew his hand with a quick smile. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ll have to watch it.”

A chill slid through her—was it from the thunder or the absence of his warm hand on hers? She shivered and glanced up at the kitchen clock. “I wonder if Michele’s made it home. The storm is getting worse.”

A second flash and rumble proved her right.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Harte said. “She’ll be back soon.”

Another time, Dani might resent Harte’s carefully patient tone, as if he were trying to calm a screaming child. But right now he was her only port in the storm—literally. And he was being quite nice.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked it. He shook his head.

“Still no service?” she asked. In the distance, a high-pitched wail signaled that emergency vehicles were responding to calls.

“Not even one bar. When