Eleanor turned.
Judge Harlan held up the envelope.
“Both of you.”
His voice had gone noticeably colder.
“In chambers. Now.”
Reid looked across the aisle at Eleanor.
She met his eyes, confusion flickering there.
“Any idea what this is about?” she asked quietly.
Reid shook his head.
“No. You?”
“No.”
Behind Eleanor, April leaned closer, her voice low.
“A package was delivered right before openings,” she murmured. “Messenger brought it straight to the clerk. It was for the judge.”
Eleanor frowned slightly.
“And?”
April’s eyes flicked toward the bench.
“He opened it right before recess,” she said. “He didn’t look happy.”
Across the aisle, Burke was watching now, expression tight.
Judge Harlan’s voice cut through the room again.
“Counsel.”
Reid gathered his jacket.
Eleanor closed her file.
A knot formed in her stomach.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Neither of them spoke again as they walked toward the side door leading to the judge’s chambers.
Whatever was in that envelope, by the end of the day, everyone in Jackson County would know about it.
47
Judge Harlan’s Chambers — Moments Later
The door clicked shut, sealing out the low, expectant roar of the courtroom and the persistent buzz of the waiting media.
