April looked at Eleanor again.
Eleanor ignored her with the discipline of a saint.
Reid stopped a few feet from the witness stand.
“Mr. O’Rourke.”
“That’s the one.”
“You care about Ms. Harper.”
“Deeply unfortunate, but true.”
The courtroom laughed.
Reid’s mouth twitched.
“So you might be inclined to see things in a way that benefits her case.”
“Son,” Deck said, settling back in the witness chair, “I’ve known Eleanor Harper long enough to know she doesn’t need me helpin’ her win an argument.”
Another ripple of amusement moved through the benches. Even Judge Harlan’s mouth twitched.
Deck gave a small shrug. “Retired Charleston homicide before this. Thirty years. And no, I do not skew things anyone’s way.”
That landed.
Not with laughter this time.
With weight.
Reid nodded once.
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“Smart man.”
Reid slipped one hand into his pocket. “You don’t approve of me much, do you, Mr. O’Rourke?”
Deck looked him up and down with open consideration.
“Oh, I think you’re very pretty.”
The courtroom lost all dignity.
April made a strangled sound into her hand.
Judge Harlan removed his glasses and looked briefly skyward.
Reid grinned. “Pretty.”
“Aye,” Deck said. “Like a fox in a three-piece suit.”
Reid’s gaze flicked briefly to Eleanor.
Eleanor folded her arms.
Reid turned back to the witness. “And yet here you are, testifying under oath on her behalf.”
