Blood Will Tell by Jean Lorrah Read Free Book Online

think—"
    “You think only too clearly, Your Honor. Whatever you're up to, stop before you get us both into trouble,” Brandy said, keeping her tone of voice and facial expression neutral. “You haven't crossed the boundary into sexual harassment yet. Please don't cross it, and I will not need to report your indiscretion."
    The iron-gray eyes showed feeling now: incredulity. Granted, the man was attractive, but he was also old enough to be her father. Did he actually believe wealth and power made him irresistible?
    Before Callahan could respond, Church returned with fresh coffee. As he set the Styrofoam cups down, the judge said, as if continuing a pleasant conversation, “Your mother says you'll be taking the sergeant's exam in the spring."
    “I'm afraid she's mistaken,” Brandy took it up with equal smoothness, ignoring the sick feeling in her gut. “She's trying to persuade me, but I don't feel ready. You know how mothers are."
    “Proud of their daughters, as they should be,” replied Callahan. “Well, Brandy, when you are ready, let me know. I can help you understand the legal part. You think real hard about taking the exam. I'll bet you could slide right through it.” He drained the cup of coffee, stood, and took his leave, picking up his hat and pausing only for a couple of quick handshakes at other tables.
    Brandy waited until Callahan was out the door before she said softly, “Damn him!"
    “What's the matter?” asked Church.
    “First, he's ganging up with my mother against me. Second, what was that—a bribe?"
    “What're you talking about?"
    “Church, you should take the sergeant's exam, not me. You've got more experience, and you like to study. But Callahan tells me I'll ‘slide right through’ the exam—right after he makes sure I'm not going to testify in favor of Rory Sanford getting out of prison."
    She took a mouthful of coffee—and scorched the roof of her mouth. Swallowing painfully, she realized that the way the judge had gulped his down meant she had upset him more than he had shown. Oh, terrific. All her careful avoidance of the man's bad side, blown in five minutes.
    “God, Brandy,” Church was saying. “Any mention of your mother sets you off. Are you gonna think I'm in on the conspiracy if I say she's right? You're qualified. Go for it. Let's both go for it. I will if you will, okay?"
    “Oh, Jeez. Now I do feel paranoid,” said Brandy. “You know what just flashed through my mind? A conspiracy to set us against each other for promotion!"
    Church laughed. “Everything's a conspiracy. Come on, Brandy—let's get back downtown."
    There was a message for Brandy: Carrie Wyman had called. She dialed her number. “Sorry I missed you for lunch,” said Carrie.
    “You actually took a lunch hour?” Carrie was usually lucky to wolf down a sandwich between clients.
    “Cancellation. I wanted to grump over the fact that my abuse case went home."
    “She'll be back,” said Brandy.
    “Yeah, but who will get hurt the next time, and how badly? Oops! Gotta go. Here comes my next appointment!"
    At 3:20 there was a call: domestic violence.
    “So what else is new?” Church asked through a yawn, stretching his way into his jacket. “Come on—this may take a woman's touch."
    Two uniformed officers were already on the scene, pounding on the door of a dilapidated yellow frame house. From inside a male voice shouted obscenities against a background of female weeping.
    “Open up! Police!"
    The male voice shouted, “See what you done! God dammit, woman, yer nothin’ but trouble!"
    “Ricky, please! No!” the female voice pleaded—and suddenly erupted into wordless screams. A child's voice shrieked in pain.
    One of the officers, Jimmy Paschall, shouted, “This is the police! We're coming in!"
    The screams became moans of “No! No-oh! No-oh-oh!"
    Paschall smashed the glass with his gun butt.
    Shots. Three fast ones, a pause accompanied by an inarticulate yell, and two more.
    The male voice