Page 50 of Wyoming Homecoming


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She laughed. “It amazes me, too,” she confessed. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I track this down.”

“Thanks again.”

“I don’t mind,” she told him. “I like the challenge.”

“You should have gone to law school,” he said.

“I did think about it,” she said. “But I couldn’t bear the thought of getting up in front of so many people in a courtroom without stark terror smothering me. I do best in areas where I don’t have to give speeches.” She sobered. “It’s a deadly thing, defending someone for a capital crime. You have to have the guts to argue the case, to present facts in a manner that the jury will understand, you have to be able to speak to witnesses and drag the truth out of them.” She shook her head. “I’d be a dead loss.”

“Not likely,” he said. “You’d be great at it. You have to believe in yourself, Abby.”

“There’s another problem area.” She grinned.

He just laughed.

“I’ll text you as soon as I dig out some information. It may be late,” she cautioned.

“Won’t bother me,” he said, and he smiled.

SHEWASCURIOUSabout the area of law that was involved in the cases Mr. Owens was working on. He was a tax lawyer and he also specialized in estate law. What he wanted was a precedent in a criminal case, a point of law that excluded certain people from legal penalties if convicted.

But that was Mr. Owens’s business, she told herself firmly. She knew that he had plenty of friends in legal circles, so perhaps a friend had asked him to check it out and keep the information to himself.

She liked Mr. Owens a lot. He was a good boss. She felt like part of a family in the law practice. It was a good feeling.

CODYDRAGGEDHOMElate that night, his head reeling with what he’d learned about Debby’s secret life. He’d hoped to phone Abby and talk to her for a few minutes. But after hearing about her and Lassiter, he wasn’t confident enough to do it. She might be embarrassed if he brought it up—especially if she really was attracted to the man.

So he sat down on his sofa, looking absently for Anyu and realizing immediately that she would never be there again, looking up at him and laughing with her blue eyes so steady on his face. He ground his teeth together. He had to stop thinking about it or he’d certainly go mad.

He’d finished a dish of scrambled eggs and sausage and was looking forward to early bedtime when he was called out to a desperate hostage situation, involving a young man and a pre-teenage girl whom he’d taken prisoner and was trying to carry away. Her father had come outside with a gun and threatened the young man, and the girl was screaming her head off trying to get away from him. A knife at her throat stopped both the screaming and her father, who was just leveling the gun.

Cody found the address on his computer and signaled dispatch that he was en route. Jeb was on the scene, along with another deputy and about three Catelow police officers who’d been listening to the chat and rushed over to help. Cody was grateful for the backup, but afraid so many law enforcement people might cause the perp to do something desperate.

He motioned them all into a huddle. “Do we have anybody here who’s ever done negotiation?”

One of the police officers raised his hand. “I worked in Denver for a while, and I thought I’d like being a negotiator, so I trained for it. Gave it up, though, it was just too much work.”

“Can you bargain with the perp?” Cody asked.

The man sighed. “Well, I trained to do it about twenty years ago.”

A car pulled up nearby and a tall, dark, incredibly handsome man got out of it. He was wearing a tee shirt that said Shrödinger’s Cat is Alive/Dead. A geek shirt, for sure. He joined the group.

“I’m J.R. Lassiter,” he introduced himself. “Hostage situation? I’m a trained negotiator. Let me do this.”

Cody was seething inside. The man was handsome. He hated him already. “Okay,” he said, though, knowing the other man was more qualified.

“What’s his name, do you know?” Lassiter asked.

“No idea. Hey,” he called to the man holding the girl prisoner. “What’s your name?”

“Tony. Why?” came the belligerent reply.

“His name is Tony,” Cody told Lassiter. “Go get him.”

“My pleasure.” He started walking toward the perp as lazily as if he had all day.

“Hey, stop coming closer. Who are you?” the man demanded.

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