“Saturday.”
He held her gaze. “Good,” he said quietly. Then he added, softer, the edges of his voice rougher than before, “Because I’m not very good at waiting.”
The words slid over her like a touch. Eleanor felt a flutter in her chest, then lower, a slow awareness that had nothing to do with the sun overhead. “Neither am I,” she admitted.
They had reached the courthouse steps without her quite realizing it. Reid moved ahead and pulled the door open for her, his hand braced above her shoulder.
Behind them on the sidewalk, Deck and Lawrence had slowed near the corner. Deck glanced around once, making sure no one was close enough to hear.
“Larry,” Deck said quietly.
Lawrence looked over. Deck’s expression had shifted. Serious now.
“What is it?” Lawrence asked.
“I found out who she really is,” Deck said. “You know that podcast woman? Lila Grant. She used to be Lila Allen.”
Lawrence’s face went still, a mask of boardroom neutrality sliding into place to hide a flash of genuine alarm.
“Allen,” he repeated, the name sounding like a curse.
He remembered the headlines. The girl’s mother screaming at Eleanor from the gallery.
“She’s not just reporting, Deck. She’s hunting.”
Deck nodded. “She’s the cousin of the girl murdered in Charleston. The case Eleanor defended.”
Lawrence’s shoulders drew back a fraction. “So this is personal.”
“Very,” Deck said.
Lawrence glanced toward the courthouse. Through the glass doors, he could see Eleanor with Reid at the base of the steps, heads close together, some private joke still hanging between them. Laughing. Happy. Relaxed for the first time in years.
“She looks happy,” Lawrence whispered.
Deck followed his gaze. He watched the way Eleanor’s head tipped back when she laughed, the way Calloway’s hand lingered at the small of her back, steady and protective.
He felt the weight of the folder in his jacket pocket, a cold, heavy stone against his ribs. He’d come back from Charleston ready to burn the world down, ready to arm her for the fight of her life. But seeing her now, bathed in that easy mountain gold, looking lighter than she had since the day she’d left Charleston… his hand stayed right where it was.
“Keep an extra watchful eye on our girl,” Lawrence said.
Deck gave a small nod. “You know I will. I’ll be watchin’ Lila Allen Grant too. You can count on it.”
Across the street, Eleanor laughed again at something Reid said as they disappeared into the courthouse.
Neither of them noticed the storm already moving toward them.
41
Saturday Evening
The Jaguar roared gently to life, a low purr that vibrated through the leather seats.
Reid fully dropped the top as they pulled onto the winding road toward Bryson City. Evening air poured over them cool and soft, carrying the scent of pine and distant woodsmoke.
The breeze caught Eleanor’s hair, sending blonde strands flying around her face. She laughed, the sound caught somewhere between surprise and delight.
“Hold on,” she said, gathering the loose waves and pulling them over one shoulder, baring the long line of her neck to the fading light.
