Jude straightened his shoulders. He had at least three inches on the judge and a good forty pounds. “The boys are being taken care of.”
Harper blinked. “I’m sorry. Are you the new ADA?”
“No.” A growl. His gaze raked the older man. Harper was in his early fifties but the guy could have passed for forty. All those gym memberships she’d heard about.
Brown eyes narrowed. “Then who are you?”
Erin grabbed Jude’s hand. “He’s with me.” That was really all the judge needed to know.
Arrogant ass. She’d always hated going into his court. She’d made a point of wearing her longest skirts and her most concealing blouses.
Hot Harper might have been a favorite with some of the other female lawyers, but no way had she ever wanted to be considered for wife position number four.
“Ah…I see.” Harper blinked. “Does Cartwright know you’re down here?”
District Attorney Kent Cartwright. “Yes. He knows.” Kent had been the one to help her get the job in Baton Rouge. He’d also been the guy Jude grilled for half an hour that morning. Kent swore he hadn’t told anyone where she went, and Erin was inclined to believe him. His responses had been too genuine.
“And why are you down here, Judge?” The demand came from Jude, but it was a question also on the tip of Erin’s tongue.
Being in the basement was on par with slumming for Harper.
And on a Saturday?
His lips thinned. “I was…planning to meet an associate here. To discuss a private matter.”
Oh, yes. Right. Ten to one odds said the associate was a female.
A most likely married female if they were meeting in the basement, far away from prying eyes.
“Erin!” Cartwright’s sharp voice. He shouldered into the room, casting a quick, somewhat bemused stare at Harper. “Erin, I just got a call from the PD, thought you’d want to know…”
Not good. Couldn’t be good.
“A tip came in last night.” The tiny room was too crowded. “The caller said he knew where Donald Trent’s body was buried.”
The air seemed to leave her body in a hard rush.
Her eyes locked on Cartwright. The DA was just a few years older than she was. He had a politician’s open face. Light brown hair. Worried blue eyes.
Good old Kent. He hadn’t given her secrets away. No, not him.
“Where?” The question was soft.
His lips thinned. “According to the tapes from 911…the body is in the woods behind Katherine LaShaun’s place.”
Sonofabitch.
She slammed the files closed. Jude was already moving, shoving past the other two men. Clearing her way.
He was real good at clearing the way.
Erin hurried into the hall. Rounded a sharp corner behind Jude and—
Smacked right into Lacy Davis. A clerk in the DA’s office. Friendly, flirty, married Lacy.
The woman grunted and stumbled. “Erin?” Her eyes, dark green, widened. “When did you get back in town?” Her gaze drifted over Erin’s shoulders and a red flush stained her cheeks. “J-Judge H-Harper, what are you doing here? I thought you’d—”
She did not have time for this. Jude stood next to the elevator, holding the doors open and waiting for her. Great. “Got to go, Lacy, we’ll catch up”—not really, they’d never been close—“later.”
She hurried forward, heart racing. Donald Trent’s body? Oh, hell.
“Not so fast, Jerome.”
Kent’s voice. The hard and sharp tone that he usually just delivered in court.
She glanced back at him. She saw the judge reach for Lacy’s hand. He leaned in close and murmured something to her.
Erin’s jaw locked and she gritted, “Kent, if they found his body—”
He slanted a quick glance over at the judge, then stalked to her side. “You don’t work for me anymore,” he said, softer now. Probably so the judge wouldn’t overhear. Like that guy was paying them any attention now. “You can’t go storming onto a crime scene.”
“But it was my case.” Still was, if he only knew what was really happening.
“Was,” he threw back at her. “It’s just mine now.” His shoulders straightened. “I always liked you, Erin.” A gentleness in his eyes. Flashed there so briefly. “You’re tough, smart, but my favors for you end here. You don’t work for me anymore,” he said again. “And I can’t let you interfere with an investigation.”
Hell. The damn thing was—he was right. No way should she be at a crime scene. But she needed to be at this one.
“Who is the detective on this?” Jude asked.
“Ben Greer. He’s coming in early to handle things.” Kent’s stare bored into her. “You know he’ll do this right.”
Yes, and she also knew he wouldn’t let her anywhere near the case, either. Erin gave a grudging nod.
Then the DA brushed by her. He caught the elevator Jude had kept for her and vanished behind the heavy metal doors.
Erin looked over her shoulder. The judge and Lacy were gone. They’d probably ducked into one of the rooms for a
“meeting.”
“They won’t have anything for hours anyway,” Jude said. “The cops will have to search the woods with dogs.”
He was right.
“Then it’ll take ’em time to dig up the body.”
Her eyes closed. “What will it do to the boys?” They’d already been through enough.
A brief hesitation, then, “Call Katherine. Tell her to get the boys out of there—and to keep ‘em out until this mess is over.”
Erin’s lashes lifted. “But that’s against protocol—” She stopped. She didn’t work for the Lillian DA any more. He’d just said so himself.
“Call her,” Jude repeated, eyes intense. “Tell her to get the boys the hell out of there.”
The cops would be on their way over to her place now. There wouldn’t be much time.
“They don’t need to see their old man’s body dug up.”
No, and they didn’t need their only safe haven turned into hell right in front of their eyes.
Screw protocol. Not her case? Fuck it. Those boys were hers. She snatched out her cell phone. Dialed the number she’d memorized yesterday. When a woman’s soft voice answered, she said, “Katherine, it’s Erin Jerome. We don’t have much time, and I need you to listen carefully…”