Nothing But the Truth (23 page)

 “Is Jeff around?”

Brett’s voice reminded Ryan she couldn’t do the job on her own. As they left Judge Langston’s chambers earlier that morning, Jeff had nabbed Ryan to ask her several questions about pretrial matters. Brett, who was still by her side, had told Jeff she would stop by later to schedule her witness prep with him. Ryan was grateful Jeff was taking the lead with regard to Brett. She didn’t think she could handle proximity with Brett, especially with the undiscussed encounter that hung between them. The courage she’d summoned to talk about it had vanished when Judge Langston interrupted them in her chambers. She hadn’t planned on Brett stopping by when Jeff was out meeting with their forensics expert.

“Uh, hi. Jeff’s running lead on witness prep, but he’s not here right now.”

“Interesting. Are you really letting Jeff handle all the witness prep? Even important ones like Kenneth?” Brett purposely asked a provocative question to get Ryan’s attention since she didn’t think Ryan was listening to her. She seemed focused on some object over Brett’s shoulder. Brett followed her gaze.
Shit.
Was that sawdust all over her suit? She remembered there had been some construction on the tenth floor. She reached up to wipe it off and caught the hint of a grin on Ryan’s face. “What are you laughing about?”

Ryan looked embarrassed. “I wasn’t laughing.” She wasn’t, at least not out loud. “Okay, okay. I was merely wondering how you afford your dry cleaning bill.” She couldn’t hide the grin any longer. Brett laughed out loud and Ryan joined in.

“I make so much money doing these court-appointed cases, I can afford to wear a new suit every day,” Brett joked. “Seriously, I’m sure I’ve sent all my dry cleaner’s children to college. I can’t seem to get from my apartment to the car without wearing evidence of my every activity.” Brett let her voice drop to a soft, smooth tone. “Leave it to you to notice.”

Ryan blushed. Deep. She could feel the surge of warmth all the way to her toes. What was it about Brett that made her feel so off her game, or even made her feel at all? More than she wanted to know the answer, she wanted to relive the rush she felt kissing Brett the night before. That would never happen. She would make sure.

“Jeff should be back any minute. We’d like to meet with Kenneth tomorrow. If you can’t wait for Jeff now, I’ll have him call you to schedule a time. I imagine we’ll take a few hours. We could meet with you after.”

Brett thought about the long list of activities her father would have planned for the day before the big game. Cocktails with Texas alums, dinner with university bigwigs, more cocktails. The festivities would start early and run long. She ignored Ryan’s suggestion that she talk to Jeff about scheduling. “We can do the meeting with Kenneth in the morning, but I’ll have to take off after.” Brett reached into her bag for her BlackBerry to check her schedule and brushed against the edge of the envelope Tony had handed her that morning. “Next week’s packed for me as well.” She made a snap decision. “I’ll meet you Saturday. In fact, I’ll pick you up. Ten a.m. See you then.” Game day at the State Fair would provide many more opportunities to have a more personal conversation than the courthouse halls would allow.

Ryan opened her mouth, but the words weren’t faster than Brett’s exit. There were a million reasons she couldn’t, shouldn’t meet with Brett on Saturday. She was supposed to visit her aunt. She didn’t want Brett at her house, hell, how did Brett even know where she lived? She didn’t want to be alone with Brett.

Ryan knew the last reason fell more into the “shouldn’t” than the “couldn’t” category. She resolved to tell Brett her plan was unworkable. She would see her tomorrow when they met with Kenneth, and she would make other arrangements when others were present to prevent personal conversation.
Yeah, right, because conversation is what you’re really worried about.

 “You’re early today.”

Ryan was very early, and she knew she’d pay for it. Aunt Eunice may have a crippled body, but her mind was razor sharp.

She had shown up for their meeting with Kenneth the day before fully prepared to tell Brett she couldn’t meet with her today. Brett foiled her plans by announcing to Jeff and the detectives that she wouldn’t be able to stay after Kenneth’s meeting, but she was meeting with Ryan on Saturday instead. Remembering the rush she felt the other night convinced Ryan to trade a tongue-lashing from her aunt for time alone with Brett.

“Yes, I have an important meeting today. I’m sorry I had to adjust my schedule.”

Aunt Eunice frowned. “You don’t need to act all uppity. I know it’s the weekend. If you want to socialize, by all means do so, but don’t pretend you’re working. If visiting me has become an imposition, then don’t do it anymore.”

Ryan knew it was no use to argue the point. Her aunt knew the facts. Ryan had graduated from law school. Ryan worked at the district attorney’s office. But Eunice had never bothered to delve deeper to associate Ryan’s education and position with anything other than the mere fact her niece had a degree and a job. Ryan didn’t bother talking to her about accomplishments at the office or the possibility she might be the next elected official in charge of enforcing the law in one of the largest counties in the nation. She knew none of that would mean anything to her aunt. She secretly feared Eunice would think she was exaggerating. One lesson her aunt had emphasized was humility.

Instead, Ryan discussed mundane matters. What was happening at the nursing home, and other unimportant, innocuous daily news. Despite her attempts to keep the conversation low-key, her aunt invariably veered onto a tangent about the liberal doings of the African-American president. Ryan tried to tune her out, but the constant harping finally broke through. She would never talk back, but she could leave. The clock on Aunt Eunice’s nightstand signaled she had only been in the room for forty-five minutes. Ryan didn’t care. Her aunt was already angry about the change to their schedule. It wasn’t as if Ryan would suffer some additional consequences by cutting the visit short.

As she started out the door of the facility, she heard a voice call her name. She turned to see an employee of the nursing home heading her way.

“I just wanted to check in and see if you have any questions or concerns about your aunt.”

Ryan was puzzled by the question. Her aunt just was. She didn’t spend much time thinking about her well-being beyond the weekly visits she was required to make in order to keep guilt at bay. She supposed she should feel guilty for not being more involved in Eunice’s daily care, but she didn’t care about doing anything other than fulfilling the visitation duty Eunice expected. Anything more, even if well-meaning, would probably be dismissed by her as an intrusion.

Ryan realized the woman was still waiting for a response to her question. “Everything seems fine.” Her eyes flicked to the woman’s name tag, Lori Logan, and she remembered Brett said that her sister-in-law worked at the facility. Was this her?

As if she could hear her thoughts, Lori stuck out her hand and said, “I think you know my sister-in-law, Brett Logan. I’m Lori Logan, the director of nursing. I see you here all the time, but I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced.”

“Nice to meet you.” Ryan wanted to make some clever remark, signifying some insider tidbit about how well she knew Brett, especially recently, but nothing came. She felt a rush of warmth and wondered if Lori could see her blush. She needed to make her exit before she made a fool of herself. “It was nice to meet you,” she repeated. “I have to get to a meeting.”

“Sure. No problem. Glad to hear things are going well with your aunt.” Lori waved as Ryan exited the doors. “Don’t let the meeting run too long. We’ll be waiting.”

Ryan was already out of the building as Lori’s final message drifted out to her. She didn’t understand the remark but didn’t bother running back to clarify. Lori was probably referencing her next visit, which in Ryan’s opinion, would come much too soon.

*

Getting Ryan Foster to give up her address had been a battle. Brett finally had to point out that if Ryan owned a house, it would only take a few clicks on a keyboard to locate it. She knew Ryan had to be smart enough to know that, but for some reason she still guarded her privacy as if she housed state secrets.

Brett pulled up in front of a modest ranch style home. The yard was neatly kept, the trees trimmed. No signs of age on the shutters or trim. The tan brick exterior was bland. Brett idly wondered why she had expected to garner some clue about the complicated internal workings of Ryan from the exterior appearance of her house. If that was the case, she was out of luck. Brett parked her car and walked up the drive. As she raised her hand to ring the bell, the front door opened causing her to gasp.

“You scared the living daylights out of me!”

Ryan looked appropriately apologetic. “I’m sorry. I saw you pull up.” She walked out onto the porch and locked the door behind her. “Ready to go?”

“You didn’t have to stand at the door waiting. I’m a few minutes early.”

“Not a problem. I’ve been ready.”

Brett had hoped to get a glimpse at the inner sanctum, but it was apparent that wasn’t going to happen. She looked at Ryan hoping perhaps her attire would be inappropriate for the day’s activities and she could suggest they go back inside to look for something suitable. She took in Ryan’s outfit and was pleasantly surprised. Ryan’s hair was in the familiar French braid, but otherwise she was stylishly casual, wearing a neatly pressed oxford shirt, crisp jeans, and leather loafers. “You look great.”

Ryan glanced down. “Um, thanks.”

Small talk during the drive was strained. Neither one seemed to want to fill the space between them with trivial conversation, nor did they seem willing to talk about the professional and personal intimacy they had shared. Luckily, the drive from Ryan’s place to Brett’s parents was short.

As they pulled into the drive, Ryan spoke. “Who lives here?”

Brett grinned. “Potential voters.” She opened her car door and waved for Ryan to follow. “Come on in and meet my parents.”

The word “parents” nearly sent Ryan into a tailspin. She struggled to mask her anxiety with her courtroom game face. She tamped her stress level down with logic. Brett’s father was Gerald Logan, friend of Leonard, and a senior partner in a powerful Dallas law firm. He was a staunch Republican, definitely poised to support Ryan’s campaign. She was headed into friendly territory. Still, of all the scenarios she’d envisioned for this day, the last place she expected Brett to take her was her parents’ home. She certainly would have dressed more formally if she’d known where she was headed.

“Ryan Foster! What a terrific surprise.” Gerald Logan stood in the front entryway and his voice boomed toward them.

Ryan forced a hand forward. “Good afternoon, Mr. Logan. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“It’s Gerald, please.” He rocked back on his heels and shot a glance at Brett. “Brett, I thought Ms. Foster was a Harvard girl?”

“That’s what her bio says, but today she shall be an honorary Longhorn.”

“I should hope so. The limo leaves in ten minutes, and you better be on board. The kids are staking out seats and your brothers and the gals are out by the pool finishing brunch. There might be a scrap or two left if you hurry.”

Brett nodded and signaled for Ryan to follow her. She did. She didn’t have the wherewithal to do anything else since she was completely perplexed by his questions about college and references to a limo that they were supposed to be leaving in shortly. What had she gotten herself into?

“Come on. I’ll explain.” Brett’s eyes were twinkling with mischief. Once they made it into the spacious house, she pulled Ryan into an unoccupied room. “I’m sure you know it’s Texas/OU weekend?”

“Yes.” Ryan tried to cipher Brett’s point.

“We’re headed to the Cotton Bowl.”

Ryan shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m not.”

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

“We’re supposed to be meeting to discuss your testimony. After I meet with you, I plan to tackle hours’ worth of work I have to do on this case.” She did have hours’ worth of work to do, but she had half-hoped her time with Brett might turn into something more. Of course, now that Brett was trying to get her to spend the entire day with her, she felt herself backing off.

Brett wasn’t having it. “I’m a litigator. Do you really think I need much preparation to anticipate your questions and give the answers in the way you want? I swear we’ll have time to go through the highlights, but I can’t miss this game. It’s a family tradition. Besides, I thought you might enjoy spending a few hours with a potentially huge campaign donor.” Brett tried not to wince at the partial lie. She didn’t care if they had time to review her testimony, and she cared even less about her father and brothers giving Ryan’s campaign a single dime. She did want to spend time with Ryan, though, and she had plans to get her to herself at some point during the day to talk about the burst of passion they had shared in Brett’s foyer.

Her father’s booming voice sounded through the hall. “Brett, we’re loading up.” Brett tugged at Ryan’s arm. “Come on. It’ll be fun. When’s the last time you had a Fletcher’s Corny Dog?”

“Uh…”

“Oh my.” Brett put the back of her hand up to Ryan’s forehead. “At least tell me you’ve heard of this delicacy?”

Ryan let out a pent up breath. “Absolutely. I don’t live in a cave.”