“Harleigh.” Andrew pushed out her name in a long, low sigh. “You know, you really are quite beautiful.”
His hand touched her leg.
Leigh reeled away from him. Her chair scraped across the floor. She was on her feet, back to the wall, before she let herself process what had just happened.
“Harleigh,” Andrew stood up from the table. The toothy grin was back, the one that said he was enjoying everything about this moment. His footsteps shuffled across the floor. “What’s the perfume you’re wearing? I really like it.”
Leigh started to shake.
He leaned in closer, inhaling her scent. She could feel her hair brushing his face. His hot breath was in her ear. There was nowhere to go. Leigh’s shoulder blades were stabbing into the wall. All she had was the make-up brush that she still clenched in her hand.
Andrew looked into her eyes, watching her carefully. His tongue darted out between his lips. She felt the pressure of his knee pushing against her clenched legs.
That’s okay little girl don’t be scared of your ol’ pal Buddy.
A loud boom of laughter came from the other side of the door. The sound echoed through the hallway. She struggled to remind herself that she was not trapped inside of the yellow Corvette. She was in a tiny conference room inside the Superior Court for DeKalb County. Her associate was outside. Her assistant was nearby. Sheriff’s deputies. Prosecutors. Colleagues. Detectives. Cops. Social workers.
They would believe her this time.
She asked Andrew, “Does Linda know you’re a rapist like your father?”
A subtle change crossed his face. “Does your husband know you’re a murderer?”
Leigh stared all of her hate into him. “Get the fuck away from me before I start screaming.”
“Harleigh.” His toothy grin returned. “Don’t you know by now that I love it when a woman screams?”
She had to slide along the wall to get away from him. She felt her legs shaking as she walked to the door. Opened it. Went into the nearly deserted hallway. Two men stood near the elevators. Another pair was entering the men’s room. Liz was sitting on a bench against the wall. She had her iPad on her lap, her phone in her hand. Leigh walked toward her, hands clutched into fists because she didn ’t know what to do with all of the adrenaline in her body.
Liz said, “Jacob’s in the courtroom going through the questionnaires. We’re ten minutes out.”
“Good.” Leigh looked down the hall, trying to banish her anxiety. “Anything else?”
“No.” Liz didn’t return to her electronics. She stood up. “Actually, yes.”
Leigh couldn’t take one more bad thing. “What’s wrong?”
“It just occurred to me that I’ve never seen you upset. Like, your hair could be on fire and you’d ask me to bring a glass of water when it’s convenient.” She glanced at the conference room. “Do you need me in there? Or Jacob? Because he creeps me the hell out, too.”
Leigh couldn’t worry about her emotions being on full display. Her legs could still feel the pressure of Andrew’s knee trying to pry them apart. She didn’t want to go back into that room again, but the only thing worse than being alone with Andrew was giving him an audience.
She was saved the decision by the sight of Dante Carmichael getting off the elevator. The prosecutor had brought a team. Miranda Mettes, his second chair, was on his right. On his left was Barbara Klieg, the detective in charge of the Tammy Karlsen investigation. Taking up the rear were two uniformed DeKalb County police officers.
“Shit,” Leigh whispered. She had only looked at Andrew’s mugging story and his failed ankle monitor as individual pieces. Now she saw them as a whole. Another woman had been violently attacked. Andrew had been connected to the case. They were here to arrest him.
“Harleigh?” Andrew was holding up her personal cell phone. “Who’s Walter? He’s been trying to call you.”
Leigh grabbed the phone out of his hand. She warned him, “Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
His eyebrow rose up. He thought this was all a joke. “Are you worried about your family, Harleigh?”
“Collier,” Dante called. “I need to talk to your client.”
Leigh gripped her phone so tightly that she felt the edges press against the bones in her fingers. They were all watching her, waiting. The only thing she could think to do was to show them the bitchy litigator they were expecting. “Go fuck yourself, Dante. You’re not going to talk to him.”