“Not if she didn’t do it.” Her eyes sharpened on him, but he pretended not to notice and turned away. “I’ve got a slew of work waiting on me.”
Crestfallen by his remarks, she dawdled in the hallway until Hammond emerged from the men’s room. They got into the elevator together. “There’s press outside.”
“I heard.”
“Are you up for it?” she asked, giving the shoulder of his injured arm a concerned pat.
On the ground floor, they could see through the glass doors the throng of reporters lying in wait on the front steps. “Doesn’t matter whether I am or not. I’ve got to do it.”
Afterward, Steffi had to admit that he did it well. Although he downplayed his injuries, they made him seem dashing and courageous, a wounded soldier gearing up for battle.
They said little on the drive back to the judicial building in North Charleston. As soon as they went inside, Hammond excused himself and closed his private office door behind him. Steffi, lost in thought, literally bumped into Monroe Mason as he came bustling around a blind corner. He had a tuxedo draped over his arm.
“The boss is clearing out early,” she teased.
Mason frowned. “My wife has committed us to one of those boring charity functions tonight. A banquet where everyone in attendance receives a reward. But who needs me around here, anyway? You’re all doing a fine job without any help from me. Dr. Ladd’s stepbrother provided Hammond with the missing link, huh? Now he’s got her motivation. Sounds solid.”
“Trimble’s statement made all the difference.”
“I’d put my money on our team.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, enough rhetoric,” he said, smiling good-naturedly. “What’s your gut feeling, Steffi? What kind of case have you got?”
Recalling Smilow’s concerns, she said, “We’d like more hard evidence.”
“Name a prosecutor who wouldn’t. Rarely do we catch the accused holding a smoking gun. Sometimes—more often than not—we have to make something of little or nothing at all. Hammond will get his indictment, and when the case gets to trial, he’ll bring in a guilty verdict. I have no misgivings about his abilities.”
Although it pained the muscles of her face to do so, Steffi smiled. “Nor do I. If he doesn’t fall head over heels.”
Mason was looking at his wristwatch, saying, “I must be on my way. I’m meeting my trainer for a quick workout and massage before I climb into this monkey suit. Cocktails are at five. Mrs. Mason made me swear I wouldn’t be late.”
“Have a good time.”
He frowned. “That’s a jibe, right?”
“Yes, sir, that’s a jibe.” Laughing, she wished him a pleasant evening.
He had almost reached the end of the hall when he stopped and turned back. “Steffi?”
Her back was to him, so he didn’t see the triumphant smile that spread across her face. She collapsed it before turning around. “Yes?”
“What were you implying with that remark?”
“Remark?”
“About Hammond falling head over heels.”
“Oh.” She laughed. “I was joking. It’s nothing.”
He retraced his steps back to her. “That’s the second time you’ve alluded to Hammond being infatuated with Dr. Ladd. I don’t consider that nothing. I certainly don’t think it’s a joking matter.”
Steffi gnawed the inside of her cheek. “If I didn’t know him better…” she said, faltering. Then she shook her head firmly. “But I do. We all do. Hammond would never lose his objectivity.”
“Not a chance.”
“Of course not.”