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Chapter Eight
Emma had just needed a moment. A moment to wonder how, out of the millions of people in Texas, she’d come face to face with the one who’d seen her face in a case file. She wondered what that photo looked like, and she guessed not great.
She certainly wouldn’t have the perfectly pointed and slanted wings of her eyeliner. Her hair had probably been the mousy brown variety, not the nearly black hair she had now. Emma hadn’t gone to great lengths to change her appearance, but she wasn’t the same woman she’d been a decade ago.
“I can answer your question,” she said, though her stomach rioted against her. He hadn’t asked about Missy, and she wouldn’t have to go that far to tell him that yes, she’d once been Robert Knight’s girlfriend.
She’d never heard the words “known associate.” It sounded so lawyerly, and she was keenly interested to know how a prosecutor had pivoted completely to become a prisoner. Ted suddenly possessed more power, because now Emma knew he was smart. Smart enough to go to law school, and smart enough to work in a huge office with other prosecutors.
“Okay,” Ted said. “I went to a low-security facility with camp capability for aggravated assault of a police officer.”
Emma absorbed what he’d said. “You beat up a police officer…and went to a jail…camp?”
Ted burst out laughing, but he had to know she didn’t understand anything he’d just said.
“I was at an office party,” he said, perching on the edge of her desk. With the warm afternoon light coming in behind him, he was absolute perfection, right in front of her. “It was Wells Brown’s birthday. Kellie had brought in a cake. I was cutting the cake when some clients came in, shouting and causing a big thing.”
Ted looked straight at her while he spoke. “Apparently, our office had been under scrutiny for some prosecutorial misconduct, and they wanted to see how we’d react when confronted with difficult clients. One of them rushed at us, and Kellie got knocked down. I sort of lost my temper, and I pushed the guy back.”
Emma decided right then and there she didn’t like this story. She wanted to tell him she didn’t need to know, but she didn’t know how to ask him to stop now.
“Well, I had the knife in my hand, and he was a cop, and things got way out of hand from there.”
Emma took a breath, her pulse racing. “Did you use the knife?”
“No,” he said. “But it was in my possession. I may or may not have issued some threats, and the guy was an undercover cop.”
“Did you issue threats?”
“I don’t remember it,” Ted said. “But a couple of people gave testimony that I did.” Ted lifted his hand and ran it up the back of his head. “So I probably did. I can have a temper sometimes.” He resettled his hat on his head, which he’d lowered now so she couldn’t see his eyes. “And since they were already investigating our office for misconduct, it was easy to put it all on me.”
“All of it?”
Ted didn’t need to confirm. The flashing glint in his eyes said it all. “I got a six-year sentence, which probably would’ve only been twelve to fifteen months if the office hadn’t already been under investigation, and if that ‘client’ hadn’t been an undercover cop.” He shrugged, but Emma knew there was a huge difference between one year and six.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“A low-security facility with camp capability is the lowest form of security for prisons in the Bureau,” he said. “The men at the camp actually leave the facility and stuff. I stayed in the low-sec, because that’s where my friends were, and there were more opportunities for classes and recreation. The camp is really crowded.”
“You said something about having your own room,” she said. “Did you not have your own cell there?”
Ted shook his head and smiled. “No cells in a low-security facility,” he said. “We live in dormitories. Sixteen men in each unit.”
“You slept in a room with fifteen other men.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Emma wanted to know a lot more, but she told herself to stop. There was plenty of time to get to know Ted better.
No, she told herself.There’s plenty more time to get more information from Ted.
“That’s it?” Ted asked. “You’re stopping there?”
“Do you want some ice cream?” Emma hooked her thumb over her shoulder, and she turned and started for the door again. “I do, and Lord knows I need it to tell my part of the story.” She went into the kitchen, and Ted followed her. He sat at the bar while she busied herself with pulling open the freezer and taking out a couple of boxes of ice cream bars.
“These are double chocolate, and these are almond,” she said, extending them both toward him.
“Almond,” he said, reaching for one of those. She selected the same and put the rest away. She turned toward him, and he’d already unwrapped his treat.
