Nodding, she pushed away from the wall and followed him into his office, discarding the absurd thought that she should have gone home and changed at some point she didn’t have in her very busy day. The colorful skirt that had just left had been...nice. Nicer than the black pants and white-and-black jacket he’d already seen her in that day.
“She’s one of your offenders?” she asked, following him into the small, unadorned room with its two metal desks, each fronted by two plastic chairs. File cabinets lined the walls.
“She is,” he said.
He was still in the jeans and shirt he’d had on earlier in the day, too, she noted as he took a seat in the chair with arms and rolling casters behind one of the desks. If she hadn’t seen him brace himself slightly on the chair arms as he’d taken his
seat, she’d never have known he’d been shot the day before.
“She looks about seventy.”
“She’s that, too.”
“What was she in for?”
“She was caught with stolen property. I don’t believe that she took it, but she chose to spend three years in prison rather than tell us who really took the stuff. She’s been out a month and having a hard time staying put.”
It wouldn’t be so bad sticking around if I had Jayden looking after me on a regular basis. Hearing her wayward side in the background of her mind, Emma scooted to the edge of her seat and put the files on the edge of Jayden’s desk.
“Were you able to connect with Bill Heber today?” she asked, all business now.
“I was. Goes with the territory of my job,” he said with not quite a grin. “My people might not always like to see me coming, but they all want me to see or hear from them if and when I choose to do so.”
Because evading their PO was usually grounds for more jail time. For some, that could mean ten years or more. She’d been responsible for sending more than a handful of offenders back to serve the remainder of their sentences for parole violations.
She didn’t just want Heber back for the duration of his five years. She wanted him in the cage for the rest of his life.
“And?” she asked the man whose sexiness had no role to play in her current dilemma.
“He was at work, doing exactly what he should have been doing. I told him that I’d be making a random stop-by within the next three days,” he continued.
“So he’ll make sure he’s where he’s supposed to be until you do so,” she concluded, liking his work style almost as much as Ms. Shadow liked the rest of him.
His shrug was a half nod. Lifting his ankle across his knee, he leaned on the right arm of his chair, looking more like an athlete than an officer of the law—if you ignored the weapon hooked to the belt at his hip. He’d been mostly clean shaved that morning, but had a definite growth of dark stubble now. Together with that weapon, it made him look dangerous.
A dangerous athlete.
“You can’t take anything for granted in this business,” he said. “I’ll be checking up on him without him knowing it, you can rest assured of that.”
Thank God. A bit of the tension that she’d been carrying all day started to slowly seep out of her.
“So, what have you got there to show me?” he said next, dropping his foot to the floor as he sat up to the desk and reached for her files. “Let’s start first with what the jury thought of him.”
Even that she applauded. Knowing how Heber appeared to others, in conjunction with the assessments Jayden already would have done on his client, could help him predict what the man might do next. Or not do.
What did Bill Heber show the world—knowingly or not? Where was he convincing? And not so much?
It was the same type of work she did when trying a case. How did you expose the perpetrator side of a man who’d probably done some good, too?
Pulling the jury poll from the file, she handed it to him. Waited while he read. Knowing every word by heart. Feeling the knives in her gut all over again.
When Jayden looked back at her, she was surprised to see no change in his expression. No loss of respect. Or sympathy, either.
“Based on testimony, if you’d gone for the abuse charges, you’d probably have won.”
Yep. She nodded.
“Why didn’t you?”