LITMIR.BIZ

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kind of person? His immediate impression had been of someone pretty hard-boiled, with her elegant clothing and her cool manner. But there had been a brief glimpse or two of someone not so easily categorized.

      He didn’t think he liked that. He wanted to know where he was with people. And she’d challenged his opinion of what was best for his mother—he knew he didn’t like that. His mother could be devastated by this case, no matter how it turned out. Would Jessica even care?

      His hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he deliberately forced himself to relax. Since Dad’s death, he’d been responsible—for his mother, for the family-owned businesses and rental properties, for all the people in the township who depended on the Morgan family. His thoughts flickered briefly to the office. He’d had to cancel a couple of appointments today, and no doubt there’d be more of that in coming days.

      He couldn’t go to the office, deal with the day-to-day running of the family properties, handle the investments his grandfather and father had entrusted to his care and still deal with the ramifications of his mother’s interest in defending Thomas. So Morgan Enterprises would have to run along without him until this was settled.

      In one way, he’d been preparing all his life for his role. It had governed his choice of summer jobs, his business major, even his Wharton MBA. He’d just never expected it to come so soon. He wasn’t ready. Maybe he’d never have been ready to lose his father, but to lose him that way…

      Why, Dad? Why did you do it? How could the father I thought I knew do something like that?

      He’d asked that question a thousand times. He’d never gotten an answer.

      His gaze, idly scanning the street in front of the jail, suddenly sharpened. That dark blue van bore the logo of the local television station. The building entrance was out of his view from here, but the chance that the news crew camped out at the jail for any reason other than to cover the murder was nil.

      He shoved the door open and slid out, worry and irritation edging his nerves. He reached the corner and stopped, stunned. Not only had the news crew clustered in front of the entrance, so had probably thirty or forty other people. A couple of them carried signs, leaving no doubt as to their opinion on Thomas’s guilt.

      As if that wasn’t bad enough, the television news reporter was busy interviewing them. Anyone who hadn’t already thought it a good idea to voice their uninformed opinion would probably be inspired by the sight on the five-o’clock news.

      The crowd blocked the steps. Unless someone warned Jessica, she’d walk out right into the arms of the television news reporter. Was it coincidence the news people were waiting at this precise moment? He doubted it. He moved faster. If he could get into the building, find Jessica, take her out another exit—

      Too late. The heavy door in the front of the building moved, and Jessica came out. In an instant the reporter pounced, calling Jessica’s name.

      Her name. He hadn’t even known that until she’d arrived. They’d been tipped off, then. By Jessica? If she wanted attention, there was no better way to get it.

      The crowd, alerted by the reporter’s question, closed in, waving their signs. He had a glimpse of a startled face through the narrow glass slit in the door. It quickly vanished, to find help, he hoped.

      Trey elbowed his way through the mass of bodies with murmured apologies. Ridiculous that at a moment like this his mother’s training in proper manners held. Except that in Mom’s universe, people didn’t yell obscenities to express their opinions. If he could reach Jessica before she said anything that would focus attention on his mother…

      Jessica seemed to be holding her own. He shoved his way between two burly bodies. She’d looked surprised when the reporter ambushed her, he had to say that, but she could have been faking it.

      “Come on, Ms. Langdon. A Philadelphia lawyer doesn’t just show up here. Who hired you?” The reporter had the looks of a movie starlet and the aggressive instincts of a puma. She thrust the microphone in Jessica’s face.

      “Every defendant is entitled to the best possible representation. I’m sure you’ll agree.” Jessica’s professional manner seemed unruffled.

      “You want us to believe that an Amish family knew enough to bring in a topflight Philadelphia firm?” The reporter’s voice expressed disbelief. “The public has a right to know who brought you here.”

      Trey pushed his way closer. If she mentioned his mother—

      “Right now I’m more concerned with the rights of my client.” Jessica smiled at the camera as if she did this every day. “I don’t think anything will be gained by my discussing the case when I’ve hardly begun to assess the facts.”

      “Everyone knows the facts. He’s a filthy murderer, and you’re trying to get him off.” The yelled words came from the far side of the crowd, and the mass of people seemed to surge forward.

      Trey shoved his way through and caught Jessica’s arm. “Let’s go.”

      “Mr. Morgan.” The reporter sounded like a woman who’d just been given an unexpected gift. “What is your interest in this case?”

      “None at all.” Taking his lead from Jessica, he smiled blandly. “I’m just giving Ms. Langdon a ride, that’s all.”

      He turned to go, clasping Jessica’s arm firmly, but the mass of people had closed in behind them. Push through them? Retreat into the jail?

      Even as he thought it, the heavy door opened. “What’s going on out here?” The cop had a deep voice to match his authoritative manner. “You people can’t block access to the jail.”

      Trey seized his opportunity, piloting Jessica through the crowd and toward the pickup. She hurried to keep up with his long strides. Finally she planted her feet, forcing him to come to a stop.

      He glared at her. “You eager to do another round with the television reporter? Let’s go.”

      “The police are keeping them busy. And it looks as if someone is waiting for us.” She nodded toward the truck.

      A figure dressed in Amish black stood motionless. Ezra Burkhalter, one of the three ministers of the local congregation, apparently unnoticed as yet by the reporters. What was he doing here?

      “Ezra.” He nodded, hoping the reporter wouldn’t look their way. “Something I can do for you?”

      “I came to this place to see Thomas Esch, but the officers would not allow it.” Ezra’s narrow, bony face seemed to grow more rigid as he looked at Jessica. “This is the English lawyer you have brought down on us.”

      It would be too much to hope that every Amish person in the county hadn’t heard by now that his mother had hired a lawyer to defend Thomas. But the Amish weren’t likely to be chattering about that to outsiders.

      “This is Jessica Langdon. She’ll be representing Thomas in the English court. Ms. Langdon, this is Ezra Burkhalter. He is one of the ministers of Thomas’s congregation.”

      “I’m glad to meet—”

      “It is not fitting.” Ezra didn’t raise his voice, but it rasped like a saw blade, cutting through Jessica’s words. “The boy has brought disgrace to his family, and now you would have this exposed in an English court for all to see.”

      Jessica stiffened. “Mr. Burkhalter, my only job is to give Thomas the legal defense to which he is entitled.”

      “You can do nothing for him. Nothing.” The anger in Ezra’s face was unmistakable. “Stay out of this, and leave us alone.”

      He turned and walked away. Jessica stared after him, looking stunned.

      The television crew, freeing themselves from the crowd, hurried toward them. Trey hustled Jessica inside the truck. Climbing in himself, he slammed the door on a shouted question and pulled away from the curb, narrowly missing the cameraman who’d darted into the street.

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