~ Deception ~

by Erin O'Rielly

Part One

Standing at her office window, Lane Cuthbert looked across the street at her new law partner who was in an animated conversation with a distinguished looking gentleman. A feral smile curled around her mouth as she recognized just who the man was. There wasn't a client of Monty Geiger's that she didn't know about bible and verse – that is why she chose him. He, of course, thought that he had chosen her. After all, it was his law practice. She had set out to become his partner thirteen years earlier when she read an article in Texas Monthly about The Rancher's Lawyer. She knew where she wanted to go in life and the man, or rather his clients, were her ticket to the big time.

Lane had never done what everyone thought the conventional wisdom was for her. Her father, a prominent lawyer in San Antonio, had expected her to attend his alma mater and follow his example. But, much to the dismay of her family, Lane had other ideas. Instead of going to school in Texas, she attended Columbia for her undergraduate degree. When she chose to attend Dickenson School of Law in Pennsylvania, her father only shook his head. "Why on earth would you go to that school l? Yale or Harvard would have been a better choice, girl." He had no way of knowing that she was setting her master plan into motion by attending that particular law school.

After graduating, Lane went to work as a clerk for the chief justice of the Texas Supreme Court. Three years later, she began a stint as an ADA in Houston. Then, the opportunity presented itself – the rancher's lawyer was looking for a partner. His previous partner had unexpectedly died and his search began for the right lawyer to buy into his practice. Although he had three other lawyers in is practice, none had the necessary funds and hadn't felt any of them were partner material. He was looking for someone with solid qualifications that would impress his clients. After the death of his partner, Richard Steiner, Monty leisurely took his time in finding a suitable replacement. Then, one of his most important clients was in trouble for unethical lobbying practices in Washington and suddenly there was a sense of urgency in finding a new partner. If he prevailed in the DC case, his reputation would go beyond the borders of Texas. He needed to concentrate all his time and energies on that litigation making the need for a partner immediate.

To his surprise, Lane Cuthbert was available. Her credentials were impeccable – Phi Beta Kappa, top of her class in law school, the law review, glowing recommendations from the state Supreme Court and a stellar ninety percent win rate as a DA. Added into the mix was the fact that she had attended Monty's law school. She is exactly what I am looking forshe's a sure winner. And, she was.

"Wasn't that Sam Clayton?" she asked Monty when he returned to the office.

"Now how did you know that?"

"Oh, I remember reading an article about him when he donated money for a hospital wing in Austin."

"That was ten years ago." He laughed. "I remember the day he came into my office with that proposal." He gave her a serious look. "Are you all settled in?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Good. I need to bring you up-to-date with all my clients before Sunday."

"Sunday, why then?"

"I'm having a barbeque for you at my home that afternoon. I've invited everyone from the firm, all our clients and several others dignitaries along with the sheriff, mayor and perhaps the governor." He shook his head. "Don't know why I put off for so long getting a new partner after Richard died. Well, what's done is done. Now, we need to get you situated."

The mention of Monty's long time law partner who died in a boating accident made Lane feel strangely happy. His presence was always the one sticking point in her plan and his death came as good news to her. The other lawyers in Monty's firm were not full partners, which made Lane's arrival on the scene somewhat sticky. At the final stages of the partnership negotiations, Monty told her she was the perfect partner material because she was so dynamic that she would bring in clients. And, clients, he told her, means billable hours. When he welcomed her and unveiled the new firm's name – Geiger, Cuthbert and Associates – she saw the bitterness on the other lawyers faces. Nevertheless, she dove headlong into the mix knowing she could win them over. That didn't take long as on her first day she took everyone to lunch. Food and drink always has a way of winning people over she reasoned and she was right.

"Well, I'm ready to take it on."

Monty liked the woman. She was so well qualified he was surprised when she applied for the position. He knew of several firms in Austin that were courting her and there had been a rumor that several New York firms had offered her a very lucrative package. My good fortune he thought. "Tomorrow morning at six-thirty we will begin."

"Six-thirty?" That was the only time of the day when she allowed herself to relax. Her morning routine for the last fifteen years consisted of a vigorous work-out followed by the crossword puzzle and a cup of coffee while she soaked in the tub.

"Yep, meet me at the Blue Bonnet."

Cocking her head and furrowing her brow, she said, "I don't understand."

"Foundation, I have always believed, is an essential key to understanding your clients. You have been in the office for two days and tomorrow, your education into rancher's psyches will begin." He saw the look on her face, took it for bewilderment, and laughed. "Not to worry darlin', they don't bitetoo hard."

I wondered how I was going to scope out that famous meeting place and he has just presented me with a gift. "Okay I'll be there."

"Don't go wearin' those lawyer clothes of yours. Folks round her don't take kindly to fancy dressed people." He gestured with his finger up and down her body. "If you're going to make it here you have to fit in," he said with a wink.

Lane was taken back by his comments about her dress. I can do ranch casual. She self-consciously ran her hands over her suit jacket. It's not as if I'm going to be here forever. All Lane needed from Monty was the one big break - the one client that would make her name a household word. That was her master plan and she was certain one of Monty's clients would make it come true. All she needed was one big scandal or juicy divorce to make the headlines and she would be on her way. Watch out Nancy, Greta and Katherine, I'm nipping at your heels.

+ + +

Lane had arrived in the small town three weeks before she began working at the law firm. In that time, she managed to find a home to purchase, which fortunately was vacant and have her furniture moved in. The home was bigger than she needed – four bedrooms, three baths, three car garage all on three quarters of an acre. But, she reasoned the price was a steal, she wouldn't be living there forever and she was certain to make a hefty profit when she sold. Opened and unopened boxes were scattered throughout all the rooms except two – her bedroom and her office. They were the rooms she occupied the most so they were the first to be decorated and set up exactly the way she wanted. Each evening and during the weekends, she made her way through all her belongings organizing the boxes in the rooms where they belonged.

It was five in the morning and Lane stood in front of her closet assessing her wardrobe. Jeans, she thought, I've always hated wearing them. They're hot and just don't feel right. She pulled out a pair of khakis, a red tank top and a light blue long sleeved shirt. Perfect. She took the clothes to her spare bedroom and maneuvered around boxes to get to the ironing board. Casual doesn't mean un-ironed. By six o'clock, she was showered, dressed and ready to go. This better be good, she thought driving into town annoyed that a slow moving tractor was making the journey longer than it should be. Shit I don't want to be late. "Come on asshole move over! "

Pulling into the parking lot of the diner, Lane drove by a myriad of big trucks and SUVs that made her small BMW convertible seem exceedingly small. Unwilling to squeeze her vehicle into a spot that risked getting a ding, she exited the lot and parked on the street.

Opening the door to the restaurant, she saw a long corridor that seemed to lead to the kitchen. Shit what kind of place is this? Reluctantly, she walked until she came to a place where she could turn left and she saw three distinct dining areas. The one immediately in front of her, was filled with what she thought must be the geriatric crowd for they all seemed to be gabbing about their health and how much medications cost. Beyond that, was another area that had tables and chairs but she couldn't see if it was occupied. To the left, was another dining area where she saw Monty waving her to join him. As she stepped into the room, she scanned the other occupants. A group of about fifteen scruffy looking cowboys sat loosely around several tables eating, laughing and talking. Reaching her partner, she began to pull out a chair.

"No, sit in this one darlin' you can see more." Monty stood up and pulled out a chair to his right.

"See what?"

"Over there," he raised his head slightly and pointed his chin towards the group of men.

Lane looked the group over. "You got me here to look at a bunch of down and out cowboys?"

"Oh they're not cowboys and they certainly aren't down and out. They all have one thing in commonmoneylots of money."

Lane looked harder at the group - not one looked like they had a penny to spare. "You're kidding right?"

"No ma'am."

The waitress came and poured coffee, which gave Lane more time to check out the men. Once she looked past the hats, jeans and denim, she did recognize most of them. They were among the richest ranchers in Texas.

"You two ready to order?" a woman asked. "I know you want your usual Monty. What about you honey?

Looking quickly at the woman's nametag, Joyce, then to her menu, Lane said, "I'll have the special with scrambled eggs." She smiled up at the woman. "Thanks Joyce."

The waitress smiled brightly then left. Lane, trying not to stare, looked at the table on the other side of the room again. "Who's that blonde woman? She doesn't look like she belongs there." If the woman were one of his clients, she didn't recognize her.

Monty looked in the direction of the woman. "Now, that little gal is another story. See the fella sitting next to her?"

"The older gentleman?" Lane looked hard at the man and recognized him from her dossier of Monty's clients.

"Don't go lettin' him hear you say thatPreston Garrett is not a man to get riled up."

Lane smiled. "So he's a sugar-daddy."

Irritated by the innuendo, Monty said, "No! That's his niece."

She looked at him incredulously. "Sure it is."

Taken aback by her comment, Monty felt the need to defend his client. "His wife's sister passed several years back and her daughter came to live with them. Lydia took quite a shine to her uncle and goes with him everywhere. Pres is like a father figure to her."

"Sure he is - that is why he has his arm draped around her chair so possessively." She looked critically at Monty challenging the man. "I bet you can't look me straight in the eye and tell me nothing is going on between them."

A sly smile formed around Monty's mouth. "Now darlin', we both know never to ask a question you don't already know the answer to." He picked up his cup, took a sip of the steaming brew and eyed her before speaking again. "Wealth is the only thing they have in common. You will learn that some of them have power, some have influence and others are dangerous. Preston Garrett falls into the later category. His family is old Texas settlin' here in the 1800's and grabbing up all the land. At one time, they had close to a million acres. Eventually, the land was divided among the siblings. Preston is a taker and when his brothers fell on hard times he bought them out except for one, Brett." Monty shook his head and laughed. "That boy just never would sell to his brother." He saw the questioning look on Lane's face. "Brett hated his brother for stealin' away his girlfriend and then marryin' her." Monty shrugged. "What makes him so dangerous is that he takes what he wants without remorse. Watch out for him girl," he said seriously.

Lane took in Preston Garrett again. He was a big man with a hard, cold grizzled face. Steel grey hair, that matched his moustache, poked out of his black Stetson. The girl, who Lane thought must be in her early twenties, had very short blonde hair and seemed relaxed by the man's side. He's banging her no doubt about that. She let her eyes drift back to the man. Dangerous, hmm now that might be a good candidate for me. Bet he gets in loads of trouble and Monty has to take care of it. "You spend a lot of time keeping him out of trouble?"

"That's why I get the big retainer," he said winking. "Here's our breakfast. Everything here is homemade and delicious."

Lane looked down at her plate of greasy eggs and bacon and fought back the urge to send it back and get her usual dry toast. "Yummy, it looks really good."

"So how much land does Garrett own now?" She reluctantly took a mouthful of scrambled eggs and was astonished at how good they tasted.

Monty noted the surprised look. "Told you it'd be good." Pleased with himself, he smiled broadly before his face went flat. "Not as much as he once had. He is what we call land poor. He sold off quite a bit to developers which didn't sit too well with his neighbors."

"Why?" she asked as she shoveled in another mouthful.

"Cattlemen don't take kindly to the land being used for anything else."

Lane nodded her head in understanding and they sat in companionable silence for several minutes as they ate. She discretely studied the group on the other side of the room. Although she was certain she knew the answer, she asked it anyway. "So, tell me, who is the richest?"

Monty put his fork down and looked at Lane intently. "Now that's an odd question. You fixin' to marry one of ‘em?" He studied her face looking for any reaction, when he received none he continued. "Well, it used to be Sam Clayton."

It was impossible for Lane to hide her shock. Something is wrong. I know that just last week I checked and Clayton was Monty's richest client. "He's not? I thought he was the richest rancher in these partsmaybe in the whole state for that matter."

"Well he ain't even close to his daughter."

"Daughter?" Lane mentally ticked off her notes on the Clayton family. Four kids two of each. Boys are Hank and Martin and the girlshmmMargarita and Bryce. "He has two girls right?"

"Yup." Monty picked up his coffee cup and smiling, motioned for the waitress to bring him another. "Thank you darlin'." He slowly stirred in sugar mulling over whether to say any more on the subject. "Bryce," he said in a whispered tone.

"Really? Is she here? I didn't see any other women in the group."

"She's there in the corner next to her father."

Lane cocked her head to one side trying to get a glimpse of the person next to Sam Clayton but the man was in her line of vision. Finally, she saw a profile of sorts – a nose and chin and also saw a burnt orange hat brim. Gotta be a UT cap. When the man moved forward, she saw a long, straight black ponytail hanging out of the back of the cap. "She doesn't look that old."

"She's a few years older than you."

"And, she's richer than her father? How can that be?" Lane held her breath. Even with all her research, she had no idea that the daughter was in her father's league or that she was an important client of Monty's.

Monty fingered his coffee cup then picked it up and drank slowly as he peered over the rim at his new partner. When he placed his cup back on the table he nodded. "Bryce was what they call a child prodigy. She graduated from high school when she was fourteen then went to A&M where she had a double major - business and finance. By sixteen, she had her degrees and took over at her father's small meat packing plant. In three years she turned a middling business into a large multi million dollar enterprise." He took another drink of his coffee and saw the disbelief in Lane's eyes. "It is all true."

"So that's how she got rich? That hardly seems possible."

"Nooo," he said exaggeratedly. "That was only a stepping stone. At twenty, she attended UT for her MBA and in eighteen months, she had two masters – one in business and the other in economics. Everyone thought she would become the CEO of some big corporation but her heart was with ranching so she came back to live with her parents. Ever since she worked for her father, she had discreetly been buying up small ranches but she was interested in more than ranches."

"Really? What was that?"

"Well, she had a pretty hefty inheritance from her grandmother and she put that money to work. At that time, many of the ranchers were sufferingprices for their cattle was low and we had a drought which meant the hay crop was practically non-existent making the price exorbitant. On her first ranch, Ascensión, she had planted hay using an organic mulching technique but didn't rely on only that - she dug a well for irrigation. The result was a crop that flourished during the hottest of seasons. Not too many around here at that time irrigated so everyone just shook their heads and figured she was young and inexperienced."

Ascensión. Damn, that's why I didn't know about the daughter. I saw that name somewherebut where? Monty laughed. "It was a big joke round these parts when she had a blue metal roof put on the house and outbuildings."

"Why?"

"Back then, if you had a metal roof it was silver. Once that operation was in full swing she went up north some and bought a feedlot."

"For what?"

"Ah, it was all part of her master plan, ‘cept no one knew it at the time." He looked over in the direction of the woman. "She's smart, very clever and a damn good business woman." He paused.

Lane waited for more of the story and, when it was obvious Monty was lost in his thoughts, she spoke. "So she had a ranch and a feedlot what did she do next?'

Monty smiled. "Why she started buying more ranches."

"That must have taken a great deal of money."

"She capitalized on ranches that were close to foreclosure. She'd approach the owner and made one hell of a sweet deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"She'd buy the ranch, remodel the housesput blue metal roofs everywherethe owners could stay there and continue as before. She had a few stipulations though."

"And those were?" There's always a catch to any sweet deal.

"First, if they needed feed they bought from her which they already did ‘cause she had the lowest prices, but she gave them additional discounts. Then, if they needed a feedlot, they had to use hers – again at a discount. Lastly, she was to be paid twenty-five percent of their earnings."

"If I understand this correctly, the people she bought out became nothing more than her chattel."

Monty cocked his head and furrowed his brow. "I don't know how you can think that. Most of them were close to losing everything she gave them back their dignity. They lived without a mortgage, property insurance or rent and she even has an affordable health plan they can buy in to. The ranch kept the name they had given it and in all respects, the land was theirs. She didn't own them she saved them. To have a ranch with a blue roof is a point of pride round these parts."

"It is all in how you look at it I guess," Lane said as she tried to get a glimpse of the woman. "So which is she?"

"I don't understand."

"Powerful, influential or dangerous."

Monty's face took on a serious look. "All three," he said in a hushed voice. "Most people around here tolerate her and some even like and respect her but I've seen her when she feels threatened or has been wronged. She's one person I never want to be on the wrong side of if you know what I mean."

Lane shook her head in agreement although she really didn't understand the mentality. The woman sounds like a bully to me.

+ + +

Bryce saw Monty enter the café and knew he must be on a mission. He rarely, if ever, was up that early unless it had to do with business. Once the strawberry blonde woman entered and joined him, she knew why he was there. When the woman came to town six weeks earlier, Bryce noticed her immediately. It was difficult not to take in a newcomer who looked that good. Once she found that the woman would be Monty's new partner, she guessed why he had taken her on. He has his eye-candy new partner out showin' her of todaywonder why. I'm glad he doesn't handle much of my business anymore. As her holdings grew, she gradually eased them away from Monty in favor of a more business orientated firm. She still retained Monty's firm for some of her contract work but that was limited at best. She watched, as the lawyer looked at his breakfast partner – his eyes seemed to be focused on one place – her breasts. Men are such sleazes. She was so intent on the events at the lawyer's table that she almost forgot her father's number one rule at breakfast. Always listen to everything. When she was five and her father brought her there to have breakfast with the boys for the first time, she had asked, Daddy, why don't you ever talk? His answer was simple. Because darlin', by listenin' you can learn so much more. As much as she grew to hate the ritual of breakfast with the boys, she always heeded her father's words - even if you don't like the man it is important to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. He had been right, and she had honed her skills to the point that she could pick up on the most casual of comment and capitalize on it. She heard the tail end of Roger Briscoe's sentence. I'll be needin' to sell. She knew that the north pasture where Roger grazed some of his cattle was played out due to the lack of any measurable moisture. So he is going to sellhmm what? She took a chance.

"You know Roger, that pasture of mine that butts up to yours on the north hasn't been grazed in two years. You'd be doin' me a big favor if you were to let your stock graze there."

Roger's eyebrows narrowed. "Can't afford that Bryce, but thank ya kindly."

"Not askin' for money." A smile crossed her face. "You really would be helpin' me out." Always make sure you allow those you help out to have their dignity, her father's words echoed.

"Well if it will help you outI guess I can do that."

Bryce's father patted her on the arm and gave her a slight wink. "Need to be gettin' back home."

Bryce nodded. "I'll be along shortly." Pleased with her benevolent gesture towards Roger, she leaned back in her chair so that it rested on two legs. She hooked her booted foot into the rung of her dad's empty chair and listened intently to the other ranchers complain about the weather. As she listened, her eye wandered back to the lawyer's table and was a bit disappointed that they had left. She thought about Monty and his reluctance to share his clients with his last partner. The man is a fool. "Hey, girl you ignoring me?"

Her grey blue eyes leveled Preston Garrett with a look. He had an angry scowl on his face as his eyes bore into her. "Sorry, no, I would never ignore you. What's up?"

"You're in such a givin' mood what you say you sell me my hundred acres."

"It's not your land Prestonyour brother sold it to me. As I told you before, it's not for sale." Brett Garrett hated his older brother so when he needed cash to pay off gambling debts, he offered to sell his hundred acres of the family land to Bryce. The only condition was that she would never sell it to his brother. Ever since, Preston had been after Bryce to sell him land that he felt was his.

"I had an appraiser look it over and I'm willin' to pay you two hundred thousand which is five times more than what it is worth."

Bryce rocked before shaking her head. "You had someone go on my land to appraise it?"

"Everyone knows you stole the land from me by conning my brother into selling it to you just like you con everyone else," the man said belligerently. "Just tell me how much you want for it!"

"You can't afford it Preston."

"Try me."

She had done her homework and knew exactly how much he could afford. "If I tell you a price you will only have sixty seconds to give me an answer."

"Just tell me damn it!"

"The price is a hundred million." A satisfied look crossed her face as the man sputtered before he pounded the table. "Thirty seconds to answer," she taunted.

Preston's face turned red as he rose and lunged at Bryce. "You thiefit's my land."

He was almost upon her when she raised her leg letting her boot catch him in the middle of his stomach. Preston flew backwards and landed on his back on the floor. Instantly, Bryce was on her feet and placed the same boot on the man's chest. "Times up," she chided. "I guess that means you don't want the land." Her smile turned feral. "If you ever come at me like that again it will be the last thing you ever do." She removed her boot and held her hand out to help the man up.

Angrily, Preston slapped her hand away and struggled to his feet. Grabbing at the hat that Bryce was holding out for him, he shook his finger at her. "This isn't over. Your daddy is going to hear about this."

"Go ahead, tell him." She shrugged. "Won't make any difference - the deed is in my name."

"Bitch," he said angrily before taking his niece's arm roughly. "Let's get out of here the stench is overwhelming."

"Guess he will never get it," Bryce said to the stunned onlookers. "I'm not interested in selling." Sitting back down, she picked up her cup, took a sip and once again leaned back in her chair.

+ + +

When she returned to her office from breakfast, Lane went immediately to her computer. She was certain Bryce Clayton was not among Monty's client profiles and had to wonder why. If the woman is as rich as Monty has indicated why didn't I pick up on her name. She raised her eyebrows in thought. I guess she might not be his client but I find that hard to believe. She clicked on the Google search engine and typed in Sam Clayton, Texas. What came up was an extensive listing about the man, his ranch and his philanthropic deeds. But, there was no information regarding his family members other than their names. The she typed in Bryce Clayton, Texas, and came up empty. When she typed Ascensión, Texas, she came up with over three thousand sites. After an hour of searching through empty sites, she rubbed her eyes in frustration. Nothing. Damn what am I missing? Leaning back in her chair she thought for a moment then typed Ascensión. On the second page, she found what she was looking for – AscensiónEnterprises LLC. With her legal pad laid out next to the mouse, she jotted down every pertinent fact about Bryce and her corporation. She owned seven ranches between Dallas and Austin, five farms that grew cotton, wheat and sunflowers in the panhandle and three farms in the Rio Grande valley that produced maze, alfalfa and corn. Together the fifteen properties totaled almost seven hundred and fifty thousand acres. In addition, she owned two feed lots, several farm equipment dealerships and three small convince stores. From the few pictures that were available, the signature blue roof appeared in each one. She jotted down the locations of the nearby ranches then sat back in her chair. So why isn't her file available to me? I've seen all the others. Just then, Monty poked his head in the doorway.

"You ready for a client?"

Focusing her eyes on the man, Lane nodded her head. "Yes."

"Good. Pete Galloway is on his way in. He needs to amend his will to include his new grandson." Monty began to leave then leaned back in. "In the big picture, Galloway is just a little fish but he knows everyone and it won't hurt to have his endorsement. I'm countin' on you to do right by him."

"I won't let you down." She smiled but it wasn't sincere. Wills were mundane and she hated that.

"It'll be good to have him in your corner." He smiled knowingly. "Come Sunday you will meet the real players." With that comment, he left.

Lane tapped her computer to life and clicked on the icon that would allow her access to all the client files. She was tempted to see if she could find anything more about Bryce, but resisted and opened the Galloway account.

+ + +

Barbeques in Texas are events like no other. Lane pulled through the gates of Monty's estate and spotted the white tents and the huge covered smokers. The distinctive smell of burning mesquite filled the air and she was certain that briskets, pork shoulders, sausage and chicken had been smoking through the night. Dozens of men and women all decked out in western attire scurried about setting up tables and readying the area. Monty had told her Friday before she left to make sure she was early. Won't do for my other guests to be there before you darlin'. Smiling, she looked at her wrist watch noting that she was fifteen minutes early.

Monty greeted her with a big hug and pulled her towards a women dressed in a full skirt, cowgirl shirt, boots and hair as big as Texas. "Sarah, this is, Lane Cuthbert," he said with unabashed pride.

The woman's face beamed with a full bright smile. "Why Lane darlin' I have heard so much about you. Please forgive me for not having you to supper sooner."

"Mrs. Geiger it is so lovely to meet you at last."

"I'll have none of that Mrs. Geiger business, my name is Sarah."

Lane liked the woman. She was the personification of what the proper Texas matron should be. "Thank you Sarah. You have a lovely place here."

"Thank you dear. Oh, look the Clayton's have arrived." She beamed. "They are such a lovely couple. I can always count on them to be punctual."

Lane looked in the direction of the newcomers and saw Sam Clayton and a woman she recognized as his wife. "Don't see their daughter with them."

"Bryce? She won't be herenever comes to this sort of thing."

"Really why?"

"Social graces and all that," she whispered behind a cupped hand. Once again, the woman put on her brightest smile as she took Lane's arm and moved towards the couple. "Welcome Margarita and Clayton. It is so good to see you. And this is our guest of honor, Lane Cuthbert."

Lane smiled sweetly while her mind tried to work around the words social graces. Is the Clayton's daughter some sort of misfit? "It is so nice to meet you both," she said as she shook their hands. Margarita Clayton, who Lane knew was from Brazil, was a beauty who time had been extremely kind. Sam Clayton was a distinguished looking man who appeared to be unaware of his wealth and fame. He was tall, trim with dark hair that was streaked with gray that seem to accentuate the grey blue eyes that seemed to shine with merriment.

"Ms. Cuthbert, I do believe I have had the honor of meeting your father on several occasions." Sam smiled broadly. "We served on several committees together over the years."

Lane instantly liked the man. There was nothing pretentious about him. "Yes, he told me to tell you hello and that he looks forward to seeing you again when he comes here to visit."

"You tell him that he is welcome at my ranch anytimeas are you my dear."

It was then, that Lane decided to just ask what she wanted to know. "Will your daughter Bryce, be joining us today?"

Both the Claytons looked at each other and sighed. "Not today."

Margarita was about to elaborate when Sarah interrupted. "Lane darlin', there are other guest arrivin' and you must meet them too. You can chat with Sam and Margarita later." She took Lane's arm and guided her to what looked like a receiving line. "Don't worry, I will be right here by your side to introduce you to everyone."

Lane let out a small sigh before she smiled and held out her hand. Working the crowd was one of her strong points, so Lane visited each table and once again spoke with each potential client. The one person that surprised her was Preston Garrett. When she had seen him at the café, she considered him to be a disreputable character that was carrying on with his niece. What she found when she met him in person, was a very charming gentleman. If he was having relations with his niece, it wasn't evident - he seemed completely devoted to his wife, Marcia. She was a beautiful woman with a trim body and the grace that one gets from years of social gatherings.

She sat down at the table with Preston and his wife Marcia. "Hello again." She gave them her best smile. "I am so glad you came today. It gives me the opportunity to get to know you both better." Lane glanced around the tables. "I don't see Lydia. Did she go home?" She had only spoken to their niece briefly and wanted to spend more time with the girl. Lydia was the only one there close to her own age.

"Oh, she is over there with Margarita," Marcia said pointing to a table in the far corner. "They are probably hashing out Lydia's next menu."

"Menu? I don't understand." Lane thought the pairing of the young girl and older woman odd.

Marcia laughed. "You're new so you don't know." She laughed again as red tinged her cheeks. "I don't cooknever have. So when Lydia came to live with us she volunteered to do the cooking. Margarita spends time with her each Sunday morning showing her how to prepare various traditional dishes. I think they make up menus for the week too."

"Oh, I see. That certainly is very nice of Mrs. Clayton."

"Margarita ran a restaurant at one time and is an excellent cook."

"Enough talk about that sweetheart," Preston said patting his wife's hand. "What made you decide to practice law in these parts Lane?" He thought for a moment then added, "Is it okay if I call you Lane?"

"Of course. As to why I came herewell, I grew tired of the pace of life in Houston and the criminal element. I just love it here," she gushed as sincerely as she could.

"And, we are glad you are here too," Marcia added.

Eventually, as people were leaving, Lane made her way back to Sarah and collapsed in a chair next to her. "I had no idea being sociable was so much work." She laughed. "Thank you for all your help introducing me to everyone Sarah."

The look on the older woman's face was bright and happy and Lane suspected it was more from whiskey than her comment. "I am more than pleased you liked our little get together." Sarah patted Lane's hand and let out a small satisfied sigh. "I think everyone likes you just fine."

When no one else was around, Lane took the opportunity to ask the question that had been rattling around in her brain all day. "Why does Bryce Clayton lack social graces?"

If it was at all possible, Sarah's face lit up brighter. She leaned into Lane and held her hand alongside her mouth. "She doesn't have any people skills. Most people don't like her at all." She giggled softly as if she had just told a deep dark secret.

Lane had to back away fearing she might get drunk from the woman's breath. "Why?"

Sarah leaned in even closer. "She's not nice" The woman let out a small belch, laughed, then looked at Lane as if she had horns. "What were we talking about?"

Just then Monty appeared. "Darling, Jeb has just arrived and I need to introduce Lane." Lane stood up and he took Lane's arm and guided her away from the table. "Please forgive my wife she does like to gossip."

"She's a perfectly delightful woman Monty. She was telling me that Bryce Clayton doesn't come to any functions and I thought that was odd."

Monty stopped mid-stride. "Growing up as a child in an adult world makes it hard for the child to develop normal childhood friendships. Bryce is a wonderful business woman but lacks the experiences to mingle in large crowds. One on one she does okay but this would have overwhelmed her. It's my thinking that being a child prodigy isn't good for social development."

"Does she have any friends?"

Monty continued walking towards the newly arrived visitor. "Ah here we are." He leaned in so only Lane could hear. "You're going to really like this guy and he's not married."

Lane laughed and shook her head. If only you knew, he's not my type Monty. "Jeb Tenant, this is my new partner Lane Cuthbert."

Monty stood there as if he had just made the match of a lifetime. Jeb's face flushed and Lane's showed amusement as she cast her eyes in the direction of Lydia Peterson.

+ + +

As Lane lay in her bed, the events and conversations of the day rambled in her head. The day had certainly held surprises. Lane ticked off all the little secrets that flowed freely from the mouths of those who drank too much. The most surprising tidbit involved the sheriff and Sam Clayton. Apparently, for twenty years they had been at odds to the point that it became a running feud. It seemed that when Joe Don was running for office Sam, whom he had grown up with, refused to support him. Kin folk don't do that a tipsy Maude Santos told her. As it turned out, they really weren't kin but related by marriage.

She was also surprised to learn that the despite outward appearances, most people only tolerated the Claytons. They got more money than God, and don't care who knows it. They need a good takin' down and mark my words one of these days it will happen. Willy Buchanan, a small, but influential rancher told her. That train of thought confused Lane for out of all the people she had met at the barbeque, Sam and Margarita seemed to be the most down to earth. In her job at the Supreme Court, she had met many people who were full of themselves and to her way of thinking, the Clayton's weren't in the running.

It certainly was an odd assortment of people. She recalled Monty's wordswealth is the only thing they have in common. You will learn that some of them have power, some have influence and others are dangerous. As she recalled each person, she started to fit each person into a category. Not too long after that, she fell into a deep sleep.

+ + +

To the casual observer, Bryce Clayton gave the outward appearance of cool, detached confidence that sometimes seemed to border on callousness. Most people considered her to be standoffish which they assumed was the reason for her notable lack of friends. Because of her no nonsense business prowess, along with her, take no prisoners attitude, she was a force that intimidated many and angered the rest. Although those that dealt with her directly on a business or ranching level respected her astuteness, they only tolerated her as a person. In reality, most situations made her feel uncomfortable so she avoided any personal contact with people other than those she needed for successful business negotiations.

Watching the Clayton's attending Saturday afternoon Mass, most would figure she was the dutiful daughter. Although Bryce owned numerous ranches, she lived at her parent's ranch in their home. Out of the four Clayton children, she was the only one that wanted to make a career in ranching. Her sister lived in western Texas with her husband and two children. Both her brothers received MBAs and at a large financial institution in Dallas where they made their homes with their families. That left Bryce the sole child that remained on the home front - where she felt safe and loved.

As she usually did after going with her parents to confession and Mass, Bryce made her weekly inspection of her properties in the area by driving by them. As she drove by the acreage that shared a boundary with the Garrett ranch, she saw Preston standing along the fence line. Bryce could feel her anger grow when she saw the man with binoculars to his eyes apparently scanning her property. How dare he, she thought,I really need to do something about him and soon. When the man looked up and saw her truck stopped nearby he quickly mounted his horse and rode off. Glad that he was gone and satisfied that all her properties were being properly maintained, she headed towards Houston.

For Bryce, the week had been extremely stressful and she needed an outlet for her pent up frustrations. She knew just where to go to find relief. Saturday nights of anonymous, rough, impersonal sex were becoming a necessary part of her existence. The three hour drive to Houston gave Bryce an opportunity to concentrate on a plan to get Preston Garrett out of her life. His constant harassment about the hundred acres was becoming mundane and needed to be stopped. Just as she arrived at the motel where she would spend the night, her plan for his elimination from her life was completed.

As she walked the few short blocks to the bar on Westheimer Street, self loathing for what she was about to do, filled her mind. The beauty of going to Houston for a Saturday night of sex was that no one there would know her or want anything more than a chance encounter. Bryce stood at the door of the bar debating whether to go in or not. After her last visit, she had promised herself she would never go there again, but the need was greater than her resolve. Sighing in resignation, she opened the door and walked into the dark depths. The sound of Annie Lennox singing Here Comes the Rain with its rhythmic beat greeted her. How appropriate she thought as she walked towards the bar.

"What'll it be?" an overly pierced woman asked distractedly.

"Shiner." Once she had her drink she turned around, rested an elbow on the bar, took a long swallow and surveyed the crowd - she knew exactly the type she wanted. It didn't take long. Immediately, her grey blue eyes fixed on her target and held the gaze without breaking contact. The short spiky black hair told her all she needed to know. Yep that'll do. Abhorrence filled every fiber of her being as she watched the woman make her way through the crowd. God what are you doing Bryce? Get a grip and stop now! Yeah right, like that's going to happen. As her objective for the night drew closer, she half heartedly tried to smile seductively. A vacant expression crossed her face as her eyes surveyed the body hungrily. The breasts that heaved above a scoop neck shirt were full and inviting. Shorts that hovered around the woman's upper thighs invited her attention. As her eyes went to the woman's face, she offered a thin smile. Heavy eye make-up adorned hazel eyes, thick foundation and bright red lipstick did nothing to enhance the rather plain features of the woman. But, she wasn't there for looks. She wanted sex – lots of heart pounding hard sex - and the way the woman flaunted her body told Bryce that was exactly what she would get. "Let's get out of here."

Bryce grabbed the woman's hand and rapidly walked the short distance back to the motel - the need for release grew exponentially with each step she took. Unlocking the door then closing it hard behind them, she kissed the woman's lips hard as her hands roughly groped the ample breasts. She tore at the woman's shorts then plunged three fingers deep inside. Wanting control, she pumped the woman hard and when she felt the increased fluid, she pumped harder and deeper until the woman screamed out in release. "Get the rest of your clothes off and get on the bed," she ordered. As Bryce undressed, she scrutinized the naked body on the bed. In turn, the woman licked her lips and Bryce accepted the invitation by placing both knees on either side of the woman's head. They wouldn't exchange names, there would be no passion, love or gentleness only repeated encounters that Bryce hoped would fill the void of loneliness in her life.

Finally, around one in the morning, Bryce had her fill of the woman who was sleeping soundly in the bed. For a long moment, she stared at the door wondering if she would ever keep the promise and abstain from that type of sex. "I doubt it," she whispered as she put her clothes on. Fishing in her pocket for money, she peeled off three hundred dollar bills and put them on top of the woman's clothes. If it made the woman feel like a whore she really didn't care for, that was exactly how Bryce viewed the woman and herself.

Before leaving Houston, Bryce made one more stop - St. Michaels. She had stopped at that particular church every time she visited the city. There was no way she would confess her sin to the priest in her home parish. He would know her and that would be unacceptable. She knew the priest at St. Michaels would accommodate her by listening to her confession. In some small way she hoped that the confession would absolve her of what she had just done and what she was about to do.

Confessing her sins always left Bryce feeling numb and that was exactly how she felt as she drove home. She paid no attention to the speed limits and at times had her truck hovering close to one hundred. She needed to think, she needed to get a handle on her emotions and life – no amount of Hail Mary's or Our Father's would ever really absolve her.

As the sun began to lighten the sky, Bryce found her truck parked on the hundred acres that Preston Garrett so desperately wanted. The pond that was feed by a natural spring was what made the land so valuable and that was where she could find solitude a measure of peace. Out of the corner of her eye, through bushes she saw movement and instinctively turned her head in that direction. In the distance, she saw a horse and rider. Preston! I've had enough of him, she thought angrily as she started through the shrubbery in the direction of the rider.

Part Two

At six in the morning, Bryce arrived home. Her initial intention was to be there earlier but the events at the hundred acres prevented that. With stealth-like determination, she turned the knob of the kitchen door. She prayed that this time her mother would be in the bathroom, bedroom or anywhere but on the other side.

Her mother frowned. "Qué un tiempo de estar volviendo a casa." She always spoke in Spanish when she was angry with her daughter. "¿Qué está equivocado con usted? ¿No tiene usted ningún respeto?" The disappointment was evident in her eyes and even if Bryce hadn't known Spanish, the message was clear – her mother disapproved of her actions.

Bryce hung her head. "I'm sorry." The guilt she felt over the night of lust and her lack of judgment assured that no one was more disappointed in her than she was.

"Your father will be ready to go shortly. Go get yourself cleaned up."

"Yes ma'am."

"And don't let him see you looking like that." She waved the wooden spoon she held in her hand at Bryce's body. "One day it will catch up with you. Find yourself a good man and settle down before it is too late." She turned back to the stove and Bryce began to leave. "You better stop at the church for confession." Margarita shook her head and returned her attention to her meal preparation. Lydia will be arriving soon for our cooking session.

She needed to hurry if she was to be ready in time. Bryce's room was on the opposite side of the house, which assured her that she would not run into her father. If it was up to her, she wouldn't go to the café for the little informal meetings but her father insisted that she attend therefore she did. She loathed the small talk, the food and most of all the men who always seemed to be puffed up with self-importance. Today, she would go with her father and sit there, listen for a short time then excuse herself.

+ + +

She walked next to her father out to the parked vehicles. When he opened the Expedition's door and she went to her own truck he frowned. "I'll drive myself in Daddy. I need to take care of some business before I come back here." Bryce knew that if she said the word business her father would understand and not make a fuss about not going into town together.   She walked into the familiar section of the café and noticed the usual crowd sitting around the tables making small talk. As everyone greeted them she thought, God I hate this and diverted her gaze to the floor. Her greatest fear at that moment was that if anyone looked in her eyes they would see the sins that she had committed. With a silent, sullen expression and vigilant attention, she listened for any innuendo that might indicate that everyone there knew her secret. She jerked her head up when the conversation turned to Preston Garrett and why he wasn't there yet.   She didn't know who it was, but someone asked, "Anyone seen Pres? It's not like him to be late."   Her eyes shifted erratically from one person to the next as she searched each face for any hint that any of them really cared where the man was. His sins were more reprehensible than hers were and everyone there needed to know that. "We're better off without him here. The man is an idiot who gets off banging his niece."   Every set of eyes looked at Bryce in disbelief. She heard a sharp intake of a breath from her father and knew he was upset. She lowered her head and focused on the plate of eggs. She wasn't sorry for her words for it was her opinion that the world was better off with Preston Garrett out of the picture. She abhorred the man and he made her skin crawl whenever he was around. On one of her trips to Houston, he had spotted her going into a bar and mentioned it anytime he thought she needed goading. A look in the man's eye that told her he knew her secret and for Bryce, that was unsettling and unacceptable.   She had spent the better part of her life hiding who she was. To most folks she was the whiz kid who made it big. A majority of people liked her, or so she thought, but she often wondered if it was the name they liked and not the person. She had never gone out of her way to seek out people as friends so she had no real way of gauging what anyone thought. She kept to herself and that was exactly how she wanted it to be.   Her first lesbian encounter was when she was in graduate school and decided to take a course on women's issues. She had never had any interest in men but found women to be fascinating. Often she would spend time sitting on a bench in Zilker Park and watch as women jogged by. She loved the way women's bodies moved and often became so aroused by them that she would have to hurry back to her apartment and masturbate. The course instructor, Colleen Goodson, took a special interest in her and once the course was completed, took Bryce to her bed. For the professor, it was nothing more than a one-night stand. However, for Bryce, it was love. Her pursuit of the woman bordered on fanatical - she sent flowers, called or just dropped by Colleen's residence. At last, Bryce's persistence seemed to pay off when she received a call to attend to a private meeting with her former teacher.

+

"You have been stalking and harassing me for a month now and it must stop." Bryce didn't understand. "Why? I love you I want to be with you." "What do you think your parents would say if they knew?" "How would they find out?" "The Clayton name is legend around these parts. I wonder what would happen if I went to the police and filed a complaint against you." It then became clear to Bryce what the implications of her actions were. "Are you blackmailing me?" For a long moment, Colleen just stared at the younger woman. "I guess in a way I am. I want you to leave me alone." "What if I can't?" Bryce's heart was breaking. She wanted Colleen in her life forever and didn't know why she didn't feel the same. "For someone so smart you certainly are dense. I want you out of my life" "But, we made love." "It was a one nighter. It was nothing more than a good roll in the hay." No event in her life had prepared Bryce for an emotional discussion with a person she loved. Most of her relationship revolved around work or school and the professor was her first real friend. "But" "But nothing. Now here's the deal, you pay me fifty thousand dollars and I won't call the police or go to your parents. In addition, you will never contact me again." Colleen saw at the confused look on Bryce's face. "Do you understand?" She understood and fished her checkbook out of her bag. Never again would she allow anyone into her heart.

+

That had been fifteen years earlier and the check remained uncashed. Bryce figured the woman was using it as proof of her guilt. Guilt that was what it was all about and now she needed to seek out a priest for absolution. The priest at St. Michaels was a tired old man who only gave her Hail Mary's and Our Father's for her sins. He only listened because he knew she would leave a big donation. Other than that, he wanted to be done with her so he could go back to bed. What she needed was to have absolution for all her sins; most of which, in all likelihood she would do again. The ten prayers she rattled off were, to her mind, not enough of a penance. She had done the unthinkable and needed someone to tell her she was okay and that she wasn't sick or a deviant but would find salvation. Who am I kidding? The priest will tell me how evil I am. Nevertheless, she would drive the ninety minutes to the Killeen parish and confess her sins there. Perhaps by telling someone else, some of the burden of what I've done might lift from my soul.It won't take that long and I'll be back to the house in time for dinner.  She closed the curtain and slid open the small door, waited then said, "Forgive me Father for I have sinned"

+ + +

It was a little after one and she was late for Sunday dinner. She jumped out of her truck and picked up her pace by walking quickly towards the house. When she opened the door and entered the kitchen her mother frowned. "You're late."   "I know I'm sorryI had to wait for confession." She knew if she said church, her mother would forgive her lateness.   When her father came into the kitchen, he looked at her with anger. "I see you're finally here."   Bryce looked downward and was ready to explain her lateness when her mother interrupted. "It is fine Sam she was at church."   Sam growled, "Come with me." He walked away without looking to see if she was following him – he knew she would. Once they were in the living room, Sam turned and said, "How could you have embarrassed me and this family?"   Taken aback for a moment, Bryce wondered, does he know? "I'm sorry I don't know what you mean."   Sam's face reddened. "This morning in the café and that crack you made about Garrett. Do you know how hard I have worked to keep our family's reputation above reproach?" His eyes bore into her. "Do you have any idea what the others thought?"   Relieved that her comments at the café were all that her father was upset about, Bryce sighed. "I'm sorry. He has been on my case ever since I bought Brett's land."   "Then be done with it, sell him the land."   "Can't do that I promised Brett I wouldn't."   Sam pointed in Bryce's direction. "I better not hear that kind of talk out of your mouth again girl. Do I make myself clear?"   "Yes, perfectly."   Margarita stood in the doorway and decided it was time to resolve the tension between her husband and daughter. "Come on you two, the food is getting cold."   Without protest, Sam and Bryce followed her. Once seated at the table, they all crossed themselves and joined hands as Margarita asked a blessing.

+ + +

The sound of the buzzer indicating someone was at the front gate had everyone at the kitchen table turning towards the sound.   "What now!" Sam barked as he scrapped his chair across the tile floor. "Is anyone expecting company?"   Both women replied no before Sam went into the other room and pushed the intercom button. "Yes."   "It's the sheriff and I need to speak with you."   Sam pressed the button to open the gates and went back into the kitchen. "Sheriff said he needs to see me."   "Sit, finish your meal it will take him five minutes to get here," Margarita said.   The sheriff made his way up the long winding driveway to the Clayton house. I've been waiting for twenty years to pin something on Clayton and my chance has arrived at last.Maybe it won't be Sam but his daughter is close enough. Pulling his vehicle to a halt, he turned off the ignition, opened his door and allowed his long frame to slide out of the truck. A smile played around his lips as he anticipated the look on Sam Clayton's face when he arrested his precious daughter Bryce. His gut told him that she had murdered Preston Garrett and now he just needed to find the proverbial nail.   Sam heard the slamming of a truck door. He got up, went to the front door, pushed open the screen and walked out onto the front porch. "Joe Don, what brings you out this way?" Sam asked as he stepped off his front porch and headed in the direction of the sheriff.   "Need to see Bryce."   "Bryce thought you said you wanted to see me."   The sheriff let out a sarcastic snicker. "Had I said your daughter's name would you have let me in?"   Anger flared in Sam's eyes. "You already know the answer to that. What do you want with her?"   "Just need to ask her some questions."   "About what?"   "Will you please get her for me?"   "First, I want to know what this is about," Clayton demanded.   The sheriff removed his sunglasses and leveled his eyes. "I need to speak with Bryce now."   Sam turned and started for the house then, for a moment, hesitated before turning again. "This better be good Joe Don. I won't have you harassing my family over something that you and I started a long time ago."   Joe Don nodded. "Oh it's good. I promise you that." He knew half the town would be slapping him on the back for bringing down the mighty Claytons.    "You better come on in then." He held the screen door open and once the sheriff was inside, he directed him to the study. "Wait here, she'll be right with you."   "Thank you kindly, Sam. It's been a while since I've been here."   Margarita appeared in the study's doorway. "Can I get you a cold drink?" She didn't like the man but he was a guest in her home and she would treat him as such.   "Why that would be might nice of you. The sun is brutal today." Once Margarita left the room, Joe Don let out a small, silent whoop. Ever since Sam had refused to back him in his run for sheriff, he had always been looking for a way to get revenge. And, thanks to Sam's daughter, my big chance has arrived at last.

+ + +

Bryce entered the room, sized up the man looking out the window then spoke. "Sheriff, what can I do for you?"   "Answer a few questions," the man said over his shoulder before turning around.   She eyed the man cautiously. "Okay,"   "Can you tell me your whereabouts last night?" Self-satisfaction filled him as he saw Sam standing behind his daughter.   "I don't see that is any of your business." Bryce's back stiffened. She didn't like the man – never had. For a fleeting second she wondered if he knew about what she had done. How could he? "What does this pertain to?" Sam asked trying to defuse the tension in his daughter.   " Preston Garrett. We found him dead in his pasture this morning. You know the one right next to that property Bryce bought from Brett." The sheriff noted that Sam appeared visibly shaken while Bryce, looking at her feet, didn't seem surprised by the news.   "Did he have a heart attack?"   "No, looks like foul play." He watched as Sam realized why he was there. "I understand that your daughter and Preston had some sort of altercation last week."   "More than just last week," Bryce said tersely as she gave the sheriff her full attention. "That man's been after me ever since his brother sold me that parcel of land."   "Made you pretty angry did it?"   Cold, grey blue eyes pointed in the direction of the sheriff. "Not particularly."   "Where were you last night?"   "Out of town."   "Do you have someone that can substantiate that?"   "My word is good enough." There was no way she going to tell the sheriff or anyone where she was and what she was doing.   "Mind if I take a look around?"   Sam, realizing that the sheriff suspected his daughter answered. "Do you have a warrant?"   "No."   "Then I suggest you get one."   The sheriff sputtered as anger towards Sam's arrogance tried to get the best of him. "I haven't finished yet."   "Yes you have." Sam stepped towards the man. "Unless you have something other than vague innuendoes you need to leave now."   "Fine, I'll get a warrant and be back. Meanwhile, I'll station my deputies around the property to make sure nothing gets moved or changed."   "You'll have to do that from the road Sheriff. Right now you are trespassing on my property."   The sheriff's face grew red. "I'll be back before you know it."   Once the man had left the room, Sam turned towards his daughter standing at the window. "Anything you need to tell me girl?"   "Nope. Guess Monty is the one I should call to come out heremy other lawyers couldn't get here in time. I'm sure Joe Don will have no problem getting a warrant from his good friend Judge Martinez."

+ + +

Bryce had listened to the man's excuse and smiled. "You know Monty I really don't care where you are I need you here now."   "My new partner is very well qualified to handle this Bryce."   "Listen, I don't want your piece of fluff I want you."   "Fluff? Bryce I'm surprised you would say that. If you checked Lane out at all you would know she had a ninety percent conviction rate as an ADA in Houston."   Bryce took a moment to collect her thoughts. Although she had expected the sheriff's visit, it had rattled her just the same. There was no way she wanted anyone to know where she had been or did the night before and that meant she needed a lawyer. It was her good fortune that Monty was in the DC airport and had no way of getting back in time. With an exaggerated sigh of conciliation, she said, "Send her out here right away."   A smile curled around Bryce's lips. She knew all about Lane Cuthbert – she had checked her out the day she arrived in town. She knew where the lawyer lived and had lived, how much money she had and owed. It took several days of digging but in the end, she was able to find out all of Lane Cuthbert's likes, dislikes and just about everything else about her. It is funny how much information people will give up without asking to see any credentials.Even the woman's mother rambled on and on about her 'little girl'.She is ten times the lawyer that Monty is. This is working out fantastically. Monty's new partner is precisely who I'll need. She let out a small laugh. And she's far better to look at.Yep, she will be perfect.

+ + +

While she passed by the high fences that lined the Clayton Ranch, Lane still reeled from her conversation with Monty. When she turned into the drive for the ranch, she was surprised at the rather plain unpretentious entrance. A wrought iron gate with a C in the middle blocked access and on an arch above the gate in intricate scrollwork appeared the name Clayton with a wooden sign proclaiming, Tierra de Espíritu, below it. I wonder which spirits are here she thought as she stopped, lowered her window and reached out to a gooseneck panel. She pressed the call button.

Monty was unclear as to why she should drop everything and git your butt out to the Clayton Ranch. All she knew was that someone on the ranch needed legal advice and it couldn't wait until the next day. Her guess was Sam Clayton since she doubted his wife or the other ranch employees could have convinced Monty to send one of his lawyers out on such short notice. Besides, he called me and not the others, which tells me the person is a major client. A sheriff's car sitting at the nearside of the gate had her wondering just what was going on. Maybe this will be the big case I'm hoping for more likely its just some rich guy wanting his way. But, there is that police car. Hmm, maybe some important dignitary is visiting and needs protectionand a lawyer.

She looked down at her attire and laughed. Well at least he will know I dropped everything to be here. She had been painting the living room in her new home when the call came. Her clothes consisted of baggy old sweats and an old worn out Colombia tee shirt that had paint splatters all over it.

Lane blinked when a pleasant voice said, "Yes."

"I'm Lane Cuthbert and I have an appointment with Mr. Clayton."

No sooner had Lane completed her sentence than the black gates began to part. She engaged the gears of her BMW and as it crept through the opening, she got a better look at the man sitting in the patrol car. The gates closed behind her and she proceeded down the long winding dirt road of the large, rambling ranch. The pastures on either side had several horses grazing lazily on the lush green grass. As she approached the main house, she was again surprised at the lack of grandeur that one might expect from one of the richest families in the state. The white shingled house, not unlike numerous other ranch houses she had seen, was a sprawling single level structure.

Margarita Clayton greeted her. "Why Ms. Cuthbert it is so nice to see you again. Follow me please." She led Lane into the study and said, "Please wait here."

It's obvious that the wife doesn't need my help. Lane's eyes took in the room as she walked further inside. Pictures of Sam Clayton and various people adorned one wall. Upon further inspection, she saw that he stood with pride along side every president since Johnson. She also noted several photos in which he appeared with several recognizable past and present world leaders. On another wall hung a diploma from A&M along with many honorary degrees and various civic commendations.

She leaned in to get a closer look at one of the plaques when she heard someone clear her throat. When she turned, she saw the most incredible woman who oozed money, power and sexuality standing in the doorway. This must be the infamous Bryce. There was no denying that the woman was beautiful and Lane felt her knees weaken at the sight of her. The woman was tall and if one didn't know, she was of Spanish heritage they would think she had a perpetual tan. The skin, along with the jet-black hair set off the icy, grey blue eyes that spoke of hidden anger and danger. Hmm, I wonder if Sam Clayton's daughter needs my help.

"Do you make it a practice to invade people's privacy by snooping?" Bryce took in the woman noting that her attire indicated that she must have dropped everything when Monty called.

In Lane's experiences as a prosecutor, she had met many dangerous individuals so the woman's posture and words hadn't fazed her. She held out her hand. "Lane Cuthbert. Monty Geiger sent me. Are you the one that needs legal advice?"

Bryce walked towards the smaller woman, took the small warm hand and firmly shook. "I want you to know you aren't my choice but since Monty is out of town and I'm in need of immediate legal services, you will have to do."

Nope she isn't going to intimidate me. "Why have you called me out here?"

"The sheriff was here inquiring about the murder of Preston Garrett and wanted to search the property. My father told him he needed a warrant so he went to get one. You're here to protect my interests."

Preston Garrett was murdered! Lane's heart sped up. Maybe I am going to get that big break after all. "That's easy enough to do. Tell me exactly what he said."

Bryce related the conversation and when she finished waited for the inevitable question.

"Where were you in Houston?"

"That is none of your business."

"It is if you want me to help you," Lane countered.

Her eyes became dark and menacing and her jaw clenched as Bryce stood up. "Look, I was in Houston that's all you need to know."

For a moment, the woman's posture took Lane by surprise. She certainly looks threatening. There was no doubt that the woman was hiding something and the possibility that it was her compliance in the murder loomed heavy. It was at that moment that Lane decided against asking whether the woman was guilty or not. In spite of the woman's antagonism, Lane's tone remained calm. "Is there someone in Houston who can vouch for you?"

I don't even know the name much less how to find her. "No."

"Well, let's wait and see what the warrant says. If we know what they are searching for it will give us a better idea of what they think they have."

When the sheriff arrived, Lane read the warrant that allowed the police to search the stables, tack rooms and any bedroom that Bryce occupied. She lives here. Now that's a surprise.

Bryce stalked the investigators as they rifled through her belongings. When they removed and placed her prize whip in a paper bag, she glowered. "Hey you can't take that!"

"Counselor you should remind your client that the warrant says we can take anything we consider evidence," the sheriff said.

"He's right Bryce."

"But my granddaddy made that for me."

"You'll get it back," Lane assured.

The sheriff smiled with confidence as he continued his search. He was going to nail Bryce if it was the last thing he did. The Clayton's are going down.

The search was completed an hour later and several officers left with several paper bags in their possession. The deputies collected items from the tack room, the mudroom and Bryce's bedroom.

"We are all done here."

"Where is my inventory?"

"Inventory, why it's right here ma'am." Joe Don's smile was insincere as he looked past Lane to Bryce. "I need to ask you a few questions."

"I already told you all I'm going to." Fire burned in Bryce's eyes as they bore into the man.

"Now Bryce, you didn't really answer any of my questions. Why don't we sit down and have a little chat."

Bryce rose up to her full height and started towards the sheriff. Lane reached out and took the woman's arm preventing her from going further. "Of course we will speak with you Sheriff." Her eyes focused on her client. "Won't we?"

With reluctance, Bryce nodded her head and sat down.

Pleased with what could only be termed a victory, the sheriff gave both women his most condescending look. "Where were ya last night Bryce?"

With teeth clenched, Bryce stared at the man with a snarl. "I already told you I was out of town." Lane bent in and whispered then Bryce added, "I was in Houston."

"Where in Houston."

"A bar."

"What's the name of the bar?"

"Don't remember."

Joe Don looked at Bryce and raised an eyebrow. "Anyone there that can confirm your whereabouts?"

A low growl emanated from the dark haired woman whose eyes blazed with anger. Lane felt the rage and tried to diffuse the situation. "She has told you she doesn't know Sheriff either move on or this interview is over."

The sheriff shrugged. "Fine, where were you early this morning?"

Trying to squelch the growing fury, Bryce took a deep breath. "Home, I was home."

"You don't like Preston Garrett much do ya?"

"The man is a sleaze."

"I hear tell that you said everyone was better off without him just this morning."

Bryce's eyes fixed on the man. "Who told you that?"

Baffled by the look, the sheriff made a notation in his small notebook then continued. "I seem to recall you are real good with a whip Bryce. When was the last time you used yours?"

Bryce's brow creased. "I want my granddaddy's whip back."

"When did you last use it?"

"I said," Bryce's voice lowered and her eyes narrowed to slits. "I want my granddaddy's whip back." Bryce was on her feet.

Lane wasted no time in standing up next to her client and placing a strong hand on a clenched hand. "Unless you are arresting my client Sheriff this interview is over." To her ears, the sheriff's tone had taken on the sound of accusations rather than questions. From her stint as an assistant district attorney, she could tell he hadn't done many interviews.

Knowing that he would get nothing more, the sheriff stood up and tipped his hat. "I'll see myself out. Ya'll have a good day now."

Sam met the sheriff as he was leaving the study. "Joe Don, you and I have had our differences I hope you don't plan on expanding that to include my daughter."

"Wouldn't think of it Sam. I'm just following procedure in tryin' to find out who killed Preston." A sly smile crossed his face as he eyed his sworn enemy. "You didn't kill him did you Sam?"

Joe Don tried to bait Sam on every occasion and this was no exception. Sam pushed open the screen door. "Let me get the door for you Sheriff,"

Once the Sheriff had left, Sam made his way back to the study. His eyes did a quick survey of the room. The lawyer that Monty had sent was bent over a yellow legal pad scribbling notes and his daughter was standing at the window. "Has he left?" His voice disrupted the silence.

Startled, Lane looked up. "As far as I know."

With an ironic smile Sam said, "Sorry little lady, I was askin' Bryce."

Without turning, Bryce answered absently. "Yeah, I can't see his taillights anymore." She stood at the window for a few more minutes then turned towards Lane. "You're the hotshot DA, what do you think will happen next."

Lane put down her pen, drew in a deep breath and rubbed her hand across her face. "Actually, I was an assistant not the DA. If it was me, I would sit on the medical examiner and the crime team until they had preliminary results." She gave a slight tug to her lower lip. "It is likely they already have a cursory report from the medical examiner's initial examination. That's probably why he was asking about the whip, one must have been used."

"Not mine!" Bryce folded her arms akimbo much as a bad-tempered child might.

Lane could feel the deep seated anger bubbling just beneath the surface of her client. "No one said it was yours."

With the mention of the whip her grandfather had given her, Bryce felt her anger begin to flare again. "They took my granddaddy's whip seems to me they were saying just that."

Sam moved to his daughter and put an arm around her shoulders. "What else?"

Glad that the man had taken control of his daughter's emotional state, Lane continued. "If I were the DA in this, once I had any evidence of guilt I would convene a Grand Jury, present them with the evidence and request an indictment."

"How long?" Sam asked.

"Could be weeks or months it all depends on if they find any substantial evidence. If all they have is the antagonism that Bryce and this Garrett fellow had for each other it will be a stretch to prove she killed him."

Sam's face filled with worry. "What should we do in the meantime?"

Lane began gathering up her notes and placed them in her briefcase. "Nothing. Go on about your business. I will keep in touch." She saw the deep concern etched on Sam's face. "Don't go worrin' just yet." She stood up and held out her hand and Sam shook it. Her voice softened. "I won't let anything happen to her," Then she focused on Bryce, and offered her hand.

Bryce looked at the hand as if no one had ever done that to her before. When she reached out and took it, her hold was gentle and warm. "Thanks." She let go and offered a business card. "You can call me at this number if you need to contact me."

Lane hid her surprise. The woman is a Jekyll and Hyde. "I'll be in touch," she said again as she left the room.

Sam gathered his daughter in a loving bear hug. "It is all going to be ok I promise."

Part Three

True to Lane's prediction, a Grand Jury convened the following week. Since all proceedings in a Grand Jury are secret and witnesses cannot have representation, Lane advised Bryce to decline testifying. The last thing she wanted her client to do was go into the inquisition and be blindsided by the DA. On more than one occasion during her stint as an ADA, Lane had found the use of a Grand Jury a useful tool for cases that were sometimes weak.

Three weeks later, the Grand Jury handed down an indictment for Bryce Clayton, charging her with second-degree murder. Armed with the indictment, the sheriff and six deputies arrived at the Clayton ranch. "Bryce Clayton, you are under arrest for the murder of Preston Garrett. You have the right to remain" The sheriff rattled off the mandatory Miranda reading before placing her wrists behind her back, handcuffing her and leading her away from her home to the waiting patrol car.

Lane received a frantic call from Bryce's mother, informing her of the events. "Sam and I will be in town shortly. Where should we meet you?"

The news hadn't surprised Lane for she knew something was imminent when, earlier that morning, she saw a myriad of television camera jockeying for positions outside the courthouse. "I'm on my way to the sheriff's office now. Reporters are all over the place so this will probably be a circus. Use the back entrance to the sheriff's office and I'll meet you there."

"Ok," Margarita's voice had a slight tremor.

Lane's voice softened. "I will take good care of her."

"Thank you."

Once Lane had hung up the phone, she gathered her briefcase and went out the door towards what she knew would be her rising star.

The convening of the Grand Jury to hear evidence that might lead to the arrest of a prominent Texas rancher, was big news. The tall antennas of news trucks from Dallas, Austin and San Antonio's local stations along with major news outlets lined the streets. As she arrived at the sheriff's office, Lane felt the tingle of excitement knowing that this was her big break. A smile crossed her face as she saw a reporter she knew from Court TV and nodded confidently. Her attention then turned to the patrol car, with lights whirling, pulling up in front of the sheriff's office. Joe Don Wilkins exited and quickly moved around the vehicle and opened the back door. He grabbed Bryce by the arm and unceremoniously guided her out of the vehicle and took her inside. It was a feeding frenzy for the media as questions shouted in Bryce's direction while the cameras filmed her humiliation.

Elbowing her way through the crowd, Lane arrived at Bryce's side. "Don't say anything. Did you tell them you wanted your lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Sheriff, I am Lane Cuthbert, Ms. Clayton's lawyer. Once you've booked her I will need to speak with her."

"No need for all that formality missy. You'll get your chance once she's been fingerprinted and booked." Joe Don's face held a satisfied look as he waited to hand his prisoner over to another officer.

For the first time, Bryce looked directly at Lane sighed and gave her a partial smile of thanks.

"Miss Cuthbert you haven't been here that long. You're gonna find we are pretty relaxed around here most of the time but we take the murder of one of our own seriously." Joe Don lifted off his hat, scratched his head and looked around. "Who the hell called all those vultures out there?"

Bryce grinned broadly. "Like you don't know Joe Don."

The sheriff scowled. "Git her to booking," he said smugly before turning to Lane. "You can wait over there." He pointed to a small room with a table and several chairs.

"Where's the DA? I would like to speak to him."

A satisfied smile crossed Joe Don's face. "He's not available right nowout of town I think."

Lane knew it was a stalling tactic on the DA's part. This was a big case and the DA's supposedly not being there was a curious move.

+ + +

The time finally came for Lane to meet with her client. "Sit down and tell me what you said to the sheriff."

"I didn't tell him anything," Bryce said defensively. "The man came to my home to arrest me so I wasn't going to say a word."

"Good. Obviously, they had enough evidence that they could convince the Grand Jury you are guilty." Lane looked at her client with pleading eyes. "Will you tell me where you were that Saturday night?"

"It isn't relevant."

"It damn well is - your life depends on it. At some point you are going to have to tell me where you were and if anyone can corroborate that." The icy gaze that Lane received surprised her. "I will file a motion for discovery but first we need to get you out of here. How much bail money are you willing to put up?"

Bryce nodded. "As much as is needed." Quietly she inwardly smiled. She's definitely the lawyer I want on my side. The DA will be way out of his league.

Lane opened the door and saw a short round man with a balding head in his early forties speaking casually with the sheriff. The sheriff nodded towards her and the man turned around and gave her a once over. When his eyes finally tracked to her face, he smiled warmly, walked towards her and held out his hand. "Danny Kunkle."

Once the Grand Jury was convened, Lane had checked the DA out and she knew instantly who the man was. Lane gripped the hand - it was limp and wet. "Nice to meet you. I would like to discuss what evidence you have."

"Now I don't have all the information with me but I will share what I remember." His relaxed smile didn't reach his eyes.

Liar. For now, I'll take whatever he gives me. "Thank you," she said as she motioned for him to join her in the room.

The sheriff asked, "You done with your client?

Lane leaned into Bryce and whispered, "You need to be held until the bail hearingI'll see to it that it won't be long. Go with the sheriff and be goodremember, they are watching your every move hoping you'll make a mistake so they will have more against you."

Bryce closed her eyes in agreement and stood up. "Let's go," she said to the sheriff not flinching when the man took her arm.

Lane followed them, patted Bryce on the shoulder, closed the door and turned back to the DA. "Ok, let's talk."

The DA rubbed his head as if he was trying to recall information Lane was sure he had. "The coroner's report indicated that Preston died as a result of a broken neck that was precipitated by a whip being wrapped around his neck. We think that when the whip was pulled he fell off his horse which caused his neck to snap." An arrogant, satisfied smile crossed the man's face as his eyes sized up Lane's reaction had to the information. When he saw no reaction he continued. "From what I remember, the coroner put the time of death between three and seven AM." He smiled in satisfaction. "I don't believe your client has an alibi."

"That doesn't mean she killed him."

"I might not be a big city DA but your client can't account for where she was at the time of murder. That fact, along with a history of animosity she had with the victim, the only conclusion I can come to is she killed him." His eyes narrowed. "If she pleads guilty now I can go for man one."

Lane shook her head in disbelief. "You're kidding right?" When the man lifted one shoulder and slightly moved his head, she let out a sound of disgust. "Have you questioned anyone else?"

"The sheriff conducted extensive interviews."

"How many and with who?" Lane raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a witness?"

The DA refused to answer as he looked directly at Lane and let out a self-satisfied laugh. "Bet Monty is glad he's out of town for this one." He continued to chuckle. "You got the short end of the stick for your first case around these parts."

"I didn't get the short end of anything. I want all the evidence you have against my client. Surely you have more than an acrimonious relationship with Garrett."

Kunkle went silent. "I know all about your track record in Houston and you probably think that out here in the hill country we don't know what we are doing but I can assure you that isn't the case. I am a very good attorney and the case I have against your client is solid."

"How solid?"

"Solid enough for the Grand Jury."

"I will be requesting bail."

Danny laughed. "You can try but you won't get it."

Land looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Flight risk."

"Flight riskhardly. My client has family here, property and businesses, she isn't going anywhere."

"I doubt that the judge will see it that way."

Lane decided to change tactics. "Is the crime scene still secured?"

"Of course, we aren't idiots."

"Will you please give me directions so I can do my own investigation?"

Danny looked long and hard at Lane. "You city folks are all the same aren't you? Think the rest of the world is ten paces behind you. Sure I'll give you directions after the arraignment."

"When will that be?"

The DA looked at his watch. "I'd say in an hour or so." He smiled condescendingly. "Have you spoken with her daddy yet? Bet he's hoppin' mad that she has embarrassed the family like this."

Lane stood up, picked up her briefcase and smiled. "I'll expect discovery as soon as I file the motionnot one second later." With her demeanor and voice in business mode, she said, "I will see you in court." Then she turned and walked out of the room leaving a sputtering DA behind her. If he wants to play it that way, I am more than happy to accommodate him. She pulled out her cell and dialed Sam Clayton's number. She had lost touch with them when she met with their daughter. And, so it begins. She raised an eyebrow as the thought made her smile for she knew this was going to be her time. And, it didn't take long to find the perfect platform.

+ + +

Lane sat in the courtroom with Bryce's parents while they waited for her arraignment.

When Bryce entered, Lane approached her and stood by her side at the defendant's table.

The bailiff said, "Case sixteen thirty-six the State of Texas v Bryce Clayton for murder in the second degree.

The judge asked, "How do you plead?"

"Not guilty your Honor," Lane replied.

"Mr. Kunkle bail?"

"The people request remand."

"Your Honor, Ms. Clayton has no priors - not even a parking ticket. She is an upstanding member of the community with strong family and business ties."

"Your Honor the defendant has her own airplane and a pilot's license. We consider her a flight risk."

Lane was mildly surprised but covered with, "my client will be more than happy to have her plane impounded until the trial is over."

"The defendant is more than capable of buying another plane."

The judge pondered the situation for a moment then made his ruling. "Considering the heinousness of this crime and the means at the disposal of the defendant bail is two million dollars cash, the defendant's plane will be impounded and she will be required to wear a monitor."

An audible gasp filled the courtroom.

Lane was shocked but not because of the amount of bail but because it was granted at all. She wondered if Sam Clayton had any influence over the judge's decision. I didn't think she had a snowball's chance in hell of getting bail. She had participated in enough trials to know that the bail hearing was the first in a long line of skirmishes. Normally, she would have argued that two million dollars was excessive, for it was, but Bryce could more than afford the amount. She would take the victory of getting bail for her client and move on. "Your Honor, we request our right to a speedy trial."

"You sure you want that?"

"Yes your Honor."

The judge consulted at his calendar then looked up. "We will start jury selection on the twenty-third of September. I trust that is speedy enough for you counselor."

"Yes, your Honor, thank you."

"Anything further?" The judge looked first to the DA then to Lane. "Then I will see you both on September twenty-third. Court is adjourned."

Lane turned to Bryce. "We need to post bail before you will be released."

"I don't want to spend the night in jail - do something." Bryce demanded.

"I will do my best, but you will have to spend at least one night in the jail. Two million is a lot of money and unless you have that amount tucked away under your mattress it will take time. "

"Can't we put up Ascensión? It is easily worth that. My father has my power of attorney so he can sign it over.

"They want cash not land," Lane said dryly. The guards were approaching to take Bryce to the jail and Lane took Bryce's arm. "You have a lot more to worry about right now."

"Like what?"

Shaking her head, Lane let out a derisive laugh. "If you can't come up with an alibi for where you were on that Sunday morning you are going to spend a lot more than a night in jail." Lane nodded in the direction of the gallery. "Do you see the media circus you've caused?"

Bryce looked around the courtroom and noticed the various local television personalities. "Why are they all here?"

Lane raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think? You're big news."

"Not more than one night," Bryce's voice threatened.

Bryce's posture and the coldness of her tone caused Lane to pause for a moment. I definitely will never ask her if she did it. She might say yes and then what will I do? A female guard's hand wrapped around Bryce's arm. "Let's go."

Lane watched, as her client was lead out of the courtroom then turned to Sam and Margarita Clayton.

"How long will it take for you to come up with the bail?"

Sam leaned over and whispered in Lane's ear, "I can try to get it together today but I doubt that will happentomorrow for certain." He leaned his head to the left. "We need to watch what we say the guy behind me is a local reporter."

Lane nodded. She was used to the in your face press and knew exactly how to handle them. I'll try the case in the court of public opinion before the judge can issue a gag order. Walking out of the courthouse, Lane heard the DA speaking to the press "Clearly there is a different set of rules for the haves and the have nots. Had the defendant in this case been anyone other than Bryce Clayton, bail would have been denied and they would be spending the next six to eight months in jail. Not only did Ms. Clayton get bail but her trial starts in a relatively short time after the indictmentthe whole scenario smacks of pandering to the rich."

Lane suspected the DA was correct in his assessment of preferential treatment for Bryce, but she would take it as a win for their side. She made her way through the middle of the crowd and it didn't take long before a microphone was shoved in her face. "Ms. Cuthbert did your client do it?"

Lane recognized the man from an interview she had done in Houston. "It seems to me Jeff that the prosecution is in a big hurry to pin the murder of Preston Garrett on my client. Once the evidence comes out I think you will see there was a rush to judgment."

"You didn't answer my question. Did she murder him?"

Lane's brow furrowed and she cocked her head. "Of course she didn'twhat would she gain?" she said with as much conviction as she could. "The question you should be asking is, who else had motive for the murder." Her eyes scanned the multitude of hands all jamming foamy mics in her face. "Now, I really must go." The reporters fired more questions but Lane only waved her hand as she walked quickly towards her office - her point had been made.

+ + +

Lane parked her car at the edge of the road and looked around for a police car or at least an officer on the scene. There was none. "Real secure crime scene," she muttered as she made her way through a maze of cactus and scrub. Outstretched fingers shaded her eyes as she looked towards David Garcia, the firm's investigator, who was waiting for her about fifty yards ahead. The hot sun, along with the humidity, made standing in the pasture unbearable but she traipsed along towards the man.

"Hey Dave, have you looked around?"

"On this side." He pointed to the left of where he was standing. "Over there is the land that Garrett's brother sold to Clayton."

Lane noted the proximity to Bryce's property and wondered if it was a coincidence that Garrett's murder happened so close to it. If, and that's a big if, Bryce is innocent then maybe someone is trying to frame her. Well I'll know more once I see what evidence the DA has. She put her bag down, fished out a digital camera and snapped several pictures. Ducking under the crime scene tape with David, she stopped and took several other shots. Her eyes scanned the area noticing the outline where the body had fallen. "Will you look around the area and tell me what your take is Dave?"

Carefully the man walked the grid of the crime scene taking pictures of everything. Waving Lane over, he said, "Follow my steps and come over here."

Arriving at the area, Lane saw a boot print and places where one or maybe two horses had been. She took out her camera and snapped pictures from every angle. "Looks like they took castings."

"Yeah, they made it easy for us to see what they were collecting." David laughed and shook his head as he inspected the boot print. "Look at this, they didn't even get the entire impression half the compound was left here."

Lane crouched down and looked at the imprints left by the horses. "Can they trace a horseshoe Dave?" Something was telling her that she needed to check and recheck all the information that the sheriff and DA had.

"Sure can. Do you want me to take impressions?"

"Yeah good idea." She stood up and watched as the man headed for his truck. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement and whipped her head around. She saw a large black horse and rider quickly approaching the area. Lifting her camera, she rapidly snapped several shots. David was a hundred yards away at his truck with his back turned to her. Shit!I was safer in downtown Houston with all the people around than out here practically alone. When the rider became clearer and stopped in front of the tape she smiled.

"Hi, I'm sorry about your uncle."

Lydia Peterson smiled and glided off her horse. "Thanks."

"What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to see where it happened. We buried Uncle Pres today and well I guess I was trying to make some sense of it all so I came here." Sounds logicalwhat other reason would she have for being here.

Lane smiled. She certainly appears as though she cared about her uncle - "I'm sure he will be missed by many."

Lydia's eyes looked at the truck and the man walking towards them. "Who's that?"

"That's my investigator David Garcia."

Shaking her head in understanding, Lydia frowned. "I heard you are defending Bryce."

"Yes I am." Lane watched as the girl started in the direction of the crime scene. Holding up a hand Lane cautioned, "Can you wait a minute? We're still investigating the area."

"Oh, sorry." Lydia's face appeared to pale when she saw the outline of the body. "She did it you know."

Lane kept her voice steady. "What makes you think that?"

"She hated my uncle. He told me she wanted all his land and would stop at nothing to get it."

"I see." Lane doubted the truth of the statement. Why would she want his land?Bryce has more land and money than she knows what to do with. "How well do you know Bryce?"

"Not at all. I'd see her when I went to the ranch. I tried to talk with her because her mom said she needed friends but Bryce just blew me off."

"Did you feel bad about that?"

Lydia touched her chest. "Me, feel bad 'cause she didn't want to be my friend? Hardly, I have plenty of friends."

"Hmm." Lane looked over at the horse then back at Lydia. "You ride out here often?"

"Uncle Pres and I used to ride all over the place." A tear trickled down her cheek. "Sure, I guess we rode here sometimes."

Lane saw the tear and wondered if it was genuine or for appearances. "Can you tell me which way is Bryce's propertythe hundred acres?" she asked wanting to confirm what she already knew.

"Yeah, it is right over there on the other side of the barbwire."

Looking again at the younger woman, she noticed her striking good looks. Boldly, Lane took in the woman's body. The short blonde hair sticking raggedly out of her baseball cap gave her a boyish appearance. But, that was the only part of her body that resembled a male – nipples, on breasts that seemed to be just a bit fuller than what would be the right size for her proportions, stood at attention. Implants? Even under the jeans, Lane could tell that her legs were shapely. Amused green eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. When their eyes met, Lane saw what she had hoped for – desire. She had seen enough I want you eyes. Hmm things are looking up. "I'm heading back to town in a little bit would you care to join me there for supper later on?"

It was Lydia's turn to give Lane's body a once over. She smiled and nodded, "I'd like that."

"Good." Lane smiled fully. "Shall we meet around seven at the Trail Head?"

Lydia smiled shyly as she back stepped towards her horse. "I'll see you then." She mounted the mare, gently kicked the flanks before waving goodbye.

As Lane watched Lydia ride away, she grinned. The day is looking up. She walked back towards the investigator who had squatted to get an eyelevel view of the various tracks.

"What's your take Dave?"

"Looks to me like there were two horses that came from that direction." He pointed to the east. "Looks like they were galloping then came to a sudden stop here." His fingers indicated the shoe prints Lane had looked at earlier.

"Then what?"

"Somehow the one in front found themselves on the ground."

"Did he get up after the fall?"

"Don't see any evidence of that Lane."

Lane looked around at the myriad of footprints around the area. "Did the other rider get off their horse?" She scratched her head. "Guess that will be hard to determine with all the other prints."

"Once again they helped us with that Lane." He pointed to a lone boot print that still held some of the compound used to make an impression. "This one is right next to the horse. Looks like they started to get off then decided against it." He shrugged. "Maybe they saw he was dead." His fingers circled around the impression. "See how deep the imprint is right here?"

"Yes. What does that mean?"

"All the weight was on one foot. I suppose the person could have covered their tracks and didn't get the one from mounting the horse but I kinda doubt that."

"Why?"

"Mainly because the rest of the prints are undisturbed."

"Which foot?"

"The left."

Lane sucked in her cheek in and bit it slightly. "Ok, will you drop off your findings and report at my office when you're finished?" She saw the man nod his head. "Thanks Dave." She walked towards her vehicle then stopped. "Dave?"

"Yeah."

"Will you search beyond the area to the east and see if you can find something they might have missed?"

"Sure."

"And, check over there on Bryce's land too." Satisfied she had covered everything; she started her car.

+ + +

Lane returned home and saw that she had two phone messages. Pressing play, she heard the familiar voice of her father. "Lanie, it sounds like you have a big one. I saw you on the news you looked good. Call me later." Lane smiled. Her dad would be a good resource at trial time.

The next message was from Sam Clayton. "Ms. Cuthbert, I'll have all the money by nine tomorrow morning. What should I do when I get it?" Glancing at the time, she realized she needed to get ready for her date. Date - hmm I wonder if that is what Lydia thinks it is? Pleased with what the night might hold, she gave the doorjamb a high-five as she went into her bedroom. I'll call Sam Clayton once I've had my shower. The conversation with Sam had taken much longer than she had anticipated and time was running out - Lane still hadn't decided on what to wear. Monty's words, if you're going to make it here you have to fit in, kept running through her head with each outfit she chose. "SHIT!" she screamed. "Okay I can do this." I don't know why I am so nervous she thought as she pulled out a tight fitting black leather skirt and white shirt. Oh yeah, its been a while since I spent time in the company of a gorgeous woman. Rummaging through a drawer, she found a black tank top to complete the outfit. This is probably too dressy but I haven't time to find anything else. Hmm, maybe I can ask Lydia what would be a more suitable wardrobe.Get a grip Lane. You've only met the girl don't be hooking up the U-Haul just yet. Like I would do that. Lydia will just to be a lovely diversion for a while. Laughing, she finished dressing then splashed on just a hint of perfume. She looked in the mirror. "Perfect."

+ + +

Lydia was already sitting at a table when Lane arrived at the Trail Head Bar and Grill. The place was typical – a large dimly lit room with tables made of dark wood crowded together and the smells of various foods wafting through the air. Lane gave the girl a once over as she approached the table. She looks hot! Lydia stood up. Her face beaming as her eyes lazily took in Lane's body. "Hi. I hope you don't mind that I got us a table. This place fills up fast." Lydia shrugged. "You look amazing in that outfit."

In spite of the dimness of the room, Lane was sure Lydia blushed with her comment. She openly appraised the girl's body. "You look pretty good yourself." Lydia had on jeans that left nothing to the imagination and a crème colored cashmere sweater that clung to the ample breasts with erect nipples.

Once they sat down, the waiter approached the table. "Would you care for anything from the bar?"

"Yes, I'll have a scotch on the rocks." Lane looked at Lydia. "Do you want something?"

"Yeah I'll have the same." Lydia's green eyes twinkled as they reflected the flickering candle on the table.

"I'll need to see some ID," the waiter said.

Annoyed, Lydia pulled her license out of her pocket and handed it to the man. "Here." The man looked at the date, handed it back to her and left. "I hate that! It makes me feel like a little kid." She felt her face heat up as she focused on her napkin. "I'm not that young you know."

Lane bit her tongue to prevent her mouth from saying, do you think I'd be here if you were. She coughed slightly. A change of subject is needed. "I'm so glad we ran into each other today." Lane tilted her head. "This is my first night out since I arrived."

"And you wanted to spend it with me – that is awesome." Lydia tried hard to curb her excitement but couldn't. "I'm really glad you asked me out. It's been a long time since I've been on a date."

She said date. Yep, this night holds promise. Lane couldn't stifle the smile that forced its way onto her face. She eyed the blonde over her glass as she sipped. Wonder what she's like in bed. Chasing the thought from her head she said, "Tell me about yourself Lydia."

"Not much to tell really."

It seemed to Lane that Lydia was deciding whether to continue or not. "I bet it isn't as boring as you think," she said brightly. "Why not just start and if it bores me I'll stop you."

"Okay, but I bet you'll stop me real fast." Lydia opened her mouth, closed it then spoke. "Well, my parents died when the plane my mom was piloting crashed near Dallas. I was an only child so the question of where I was to go came up. My Aunt Marcia was my mom's sister so she said she'd take me."

"That was nice of them."

"Yeah I guess so," Lydia said with an exaggerated sigh.

"You're not happy there?"

For a moment, Lydia had a far away look. "Oh I'm happy there. They treat me like a daughter it's just that"

Lane reached across the table, patted the younger woman's hand and felt the need to cross her legs in reaction to the sensations she felt. "What is it?" Her lawyer instincts told her that this story was anything but boring.

Lydia looked down at the hand over hers and smiled. "My parents were great friends of Margarita and Sam Clayton. Apparently, my folks were in the process of making them my guardian if anything happened to them. There were a lot of hard feelings over that."

"Where did you want to live?"

"Don't get me wrong, I cared about my aunt and uncle but at the time I really didn't know them that well." She shook her head and wiped a lone tear off her cheek. "Some of my fondest memories of my childhood with my parents were at the Clayton Ranch."

"Did you know Bryce then?"

"She was there but rarely joined in. I remember asking her to play once and she said get lost so I did."

"Did that hurt your feelings?"

"At the time, yes but my mom explained that Bryce was fifteen years older than me and she didn't play anymore." Again, she shrugged and sadness filled her face. "I really needed a friend and she was so cold and unfeeling. I don't think she's a very nice person." Green eyes held Lane's hazel ones until she spoke in a low ominous voice. "Be very careful for she is not what she seems."

Lane's eyebrows scrunched together. "Why do you say that?"

"You know I go over there for cooking lessons don't you?"

Lane nodded.

"I really don't need lessons, but I love spending time with Aunt Margarita."

"Aunt?"

Lydia laughed. "She isn't really my aunt but I've called her that ever since forever. Anyway, I was over there oh about six, seven months ago and Bryce came storming into the kitchen. I've never seen anyone so angry. She ranted on and on about someone outbidding her on a ranch. It wasn't until Uncle Sam came in the room that she stopped long enough to listen to him. He told her you can't win every bid. She yelled the hell I can't, and then she left slamming the door behind her."

"So why should I be careful around her?"

"She's a mean woman who will do whatever she has to so she can win. She gets herself in jams and then expects to walk away because she is the high and mighty Bryce Clayton." Lydia took a sip of her drink. "You know don't you, that if you don't get her acquitted there will be hell to pay." Emotion colored Lydia's cheeks. "She did it - I know she did."

"What kind of jams?"

"I'm not sure. My uncle told me her dad bailed her out of lots of stuff."

Lane shook her head. Nothing substantial.

Just then, the waiter brought their meals. Each woman dug into the food and sat quietly until Lane said, "Thanks for telling me your story." She reached out and touched the girl's hand again and sucked in a deep breath. "I found it to be fascinating and far from boring."

Lydia's face lit up. "So, what about you"

+ + +

Later, the walk out to the parking lot found the two women standing beside Lydia's truck. "You want to come back to my house with me?" She tilted her head to one side and timidly reached out and took Lane's hand. "By now my aunt will be in bed. She's a sound sleeper so we'd be alone."

Lane could feel her desire rising along with the need to satisfy the tightness she was experiencing. "That certainly is tempting."

Lydia laughed nervously. "Tempting I like that. It's what I was aimin' for." Impulsively she leaned in and kissed Lane.

The sensation of Lydia's soft lips against hers sent the tightness over the edge. Taking Lydia's hand, she led her to the other side of the truck where it was darker. Hungrily, she took the young girl into her arms and kissed her soundly as her tongue demanded entry. This girl has been kissed and kissed often.God, it's been a long time. Gasping for breath, she leaned back and when she saw the desire in Lydia's eyes, she wedged her thigh between the woman's legs and greedily kissed her again.

The sound and the bright lights of a vehicle's headlight had Lane pulling away. Every part of her wanted to take the girl to bed but her little voice was telling her back off. Surprisingly she listened. "I guess that is my cue to get going."

Lydia ground seductively on Lane's thigh. "Not yet." She gyrated harder then found Lane's hand and moved it towards the waistband of her jeans. When Lane pulled away, she protested. "No, don't." Lydia's fingers stroked between Lane's legs.

Lane breathed deeply, shook her head and disengaged her body completely. "Lydia, we've only just met there is plenty of time to explore this further."

Lane prevented the young woman from touching her breast and Lydia's demeanor changed to one of belligerence. "Yeah, whatever," Lydia spat out. She opened the door to her truck, rested a foot on the running board then looked back at the lawyer. "Give me a call sometime."

Lane blew out a breath as she stood in the parking lot watching the truck's taillights disappear. Shit that was a stupid move. She squeezed hard, scrunched up her face and looked at her fingers. "Guess it'll be you and me tonight."

Part Four

“Now that your bail has been posted you need to meet with me so we can go over the evidence against you.” Lane said as they walked out of the sheriff’s office. “That gizmo on your ankle will alert the authorities if you try to leave the area so don’t.”

“You think I don’t know that,” Bryce said tersely. “I’m not meeting you or anyone until I get the stink of the jail off my body,”

Lane was annoyed with the woman’s attitude but understood the mentality. I’d want to do the same thing. “Get back here as soon as you can.”

A rakish smile crossed Bryce’s face. “I don’t suppose you have a shower in your office.”

It seemed to Lane that the blue grey eyes were devouring her body and she instinctively shivered. She didn’t have long to reflect on the situation as a large black foamy microphone was shoved in her face.

“There’s talk that the case against your client is a slam dunk. Is that true?”

“The DA says your client got special treatment is that true?”

“It is obvious to me that there was a rush to judgment in this case. While the law enforcement officials are concentrating on my client the real murderer is out there running lose. Other than that we have no comment.” Lane took Bryce’s arm and led her quickly towards Sam’s SUV.

“Bryce, how were you treated in jail?” a reporter shouted.

“Get the hell out of my face,” she said angrily before giving them the finger.

Lane opened the door and literally shoved Bryce inside then climbed in behind her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? The news tonight will start out with the out of control Bryce Clayton giving the press the finger. Is that how you want people to think of you?”

“I don’t give a damn what they think,” she said petulantly.

“Well you’d better start caring for when potential jurors see this they just might form an opinion of you that won’t be to your advantage.”

Once they were out of town and he was certain no one was following, Sam pulled the vehicle onto the shoulder. He turned to the back seat and pointed his finger. “Don’t you ever do anything that stupid again do you hear me?”

To Lane’s surprise, Bryce seemed to cower. It was then, that Lane finally looked at her client. She is nothing more than a little girl lost in the world of the grown ups. From a place that Lane couldn’t quite explain, she felt tenderness towards Bryce who looked devastated by her father’s disapproval. She reached over and touched Bryce’s hand. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of it…everything will be okay.” Lane didn’t know what she would do exactly for she was certain that the press would have a field day over Bryce’s actions. Raising her eyebrows and looking at her client sternly, Lane said, “From now on I do all the talking…is that clear.”

In belligerent tone, Bryce said, “Sure, have it your way I’ll keep my mouth shut…for the moment.”

“Mr. Clayton, I need to get my files from the office. I think Bryce and I should meet at your ranch from now on…we can control the press better there.”

“I agree,” Sam said as he made a u-turn and headed back towards town.

+ + +

Lane had all her papers spread out on a scarred table in Sam Clayton’s study. She was going over the photos of the crime scene when Bryce entered.

“Well, here I am.”

Lane looked up and smiled. “Good.” Her eyes gave Bryce a once over as her eyebrows arched in appreciation. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah the shower did wonders.”

“We need to go over what the police have.” She patted the seat next to hers. “Sit with me.”

Bryce sat down, looked at all the photos on the orderly but cluttered table and picked one up. “What’s this one?”

After looking at the picture, Lane said, “It’s a boot print they found at the scene that didn’t match any they had a reference for. They surmise that it belongs to the murderer. From the inventory of what they took from the house, I see they did take three left boots. Whether any of those is a match to the one in the photo I can’t say since I haven’t been given access to the evidence yet.”

“None of my boots will match,” Bryce said matter-of-factly as she flung the photo back on the table. “This is a Wolverine mine are custom made.”

“Well that’s good to know.” Lane shuffled through the photos and held one up. “This is the whip they took from the tack room. It is my understanding that skin cells found on it matched Preston Garrett.”

“Don’t know how that can be since I haven’t used that one in a long time. My granddaddy made it for me. I only use it at fairs and rodeos for demonstrations and the last one was several years ago.”

“Okay,” Lane said jotting a notation on her legal pad, “I’ll look into that.” Lane then pulled out another picture. “This one is of the shoe mark of what they suspect is the assailant’s horse.”

Bryce took the picture, looked at it and threw it on the table. “Not any of our horses.”

“How can you be sure?”

“We don’t shoe the horses on this ranch or any of mine.” She blew out a long breath. “This is all bogus. The sheriff is out to get my dad through me.”

“Can you deny that you didn’t threaten Preston Garrett?”

“No.” She diverted her eyes. “He was constantly on me to sell him that property. I’d tell him it wasn’t for sale ever and he just kept after me no matter where I was.” Bryce’s voice raised an octave. “Cut the bullshit. How can we stop this witch hunt?”

Lane looked at the woman and wondered, not for the first time, how she could lack the essential people skills needed in business yet be so successful. “We can stop it right now if you will only tell me where you were. If we can come up with just one person to verify you were not anywhere near the murder scene they would have to drop the case.”

Exasperated, Bryce shook her head. “Not going to happen.” Her grey blue eyes narrowed. “What do you think I’m paying you for?” The tone of Bryce’s voice continued to be confrontational. “You’ll have to think of another way to exonerate me.”

Lane puffed out her cheeks then let out a long exaggerated breath of frustration. Bryce expected an acquittal. “Why can’t you tell me? You know nothing you say can be repeated by me.”

Bryce got up abruptly, and peered out the window angling her face so she could see the sky. What she saw were the splintered remains of sunlight slicing through the clouds. Just like my life – nothing but jagged edges. She stood for a long time before speaking again. “There are certain rules one is expected to follow in small towns and if those are broken the whole fabric of a person is lost,” she said flatly before turning and looking directly at Lane. “Most of the people here are narrow-minded and differences are unacceptable. My family has fought bigotry ever since my father married my mother. Not only was she of a different ethnicity, but she was catholic. My father has spent decades making our family acceptable in the community and I will not throw us back to that time.” Bryce took a nervous breath then looked at Lane with hooded eyes. “You will have to find a way to disprove their accusations without an alibi from me.”

Strain was evident on her client’s face as Lane tried to digest all that she had heard. There was no denying that Bryce was determined not to reveal her whereabouts on the morning of the murder. It was also evident that she thought that whatever she was doing would adversely affect her family. Wonder what that could be. “I will do my best,” she said at last. Drugs, gambling, sex, the mob, secret agent…damn the list is endless. “I won’t fool you into thinking this will be easy. The whip, the altercations and the threats to Preston are powerful in the case against you.” She shuffled through the papers scattered everywhere then found what she was looking for. “Who is Hector Gomez?” Lane asked with eyebrows raised in question.

Bryce rocked back and forth on her heels. “He’s Preston’s ranch foreman. Why?”

“He is on the preliminary witness list and it’s a name I don’t recognize.”

Bryce thought for a minute. “They probably want him to testify about what a great guy that jerk was to work for. I suppose he fooled some of the people into thinking he was an upstanding citizen.” She turned back to the window. “Looks like it might rain,” she said absently. “Gomez has been with Preston for as long as I can remember. I believe that they grew up together or something like that.”

“Okay, that is a start I will have some of my associates check him out.” She looked back to the witness list and saw Lydia’s name. “What do you know about his niece Lydia?”

Bryce turned, looked directly into Lane’s eyes and held them. “ Lydia,” she said softly.

For the briefest of moment, Lane thought she saw warmth fill her client’s eyes, which was in stark contrast to Lydia’s comments about the woman. She could not look away for the grey blue eyes pinned her. Finally being released Lane, for some unknown reason, tried to regain control. This must be how she manipulates people, am I that easy a mark? “Yes, Lydia. Tell me about Lydia.”

Again, Bryce turned to the window. “Not much to tell, she’s just a kid that has been victimized by her uncle.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Just stuff I’ve heard.”

“From whom?” Lane waited for what seemed like an eternity for an answer. “From whom? Please answer me.”

Bryce turned around and saw Lane sitting there with legs crossed, arms folded and a no nonsense look. Bryce’s mouth curved into a smile. “From Lydia of course.”

Over the years of dealing with the criminal element, Lane had schooled herself refrain from reacting to anything she heard. Yet, sitting there staring at the cold, hard eyes of Bryce Clayton, she couldn’t hide the surprise she felt. A tingle of fear traveled down her spine, mentally shrugging it away, she managed to regain her composure. “What did she tell you?”

The jagged light from a crack of lightning filled the room and both women jumped slightly. Bryce smiled and shook her head imperceptibly. “Guess that is my cue to speak.” She laughed coldly. “Did you know her parents died in a plane crash?” She waited until Lane nodded. “I had my first plane ride with her mother. I remember she let me sit in her lap and turn the plane one way then another until we did a loop-d-loop. She was the reason I got my pilot’s license.” Her eyes took on a far away look. “I can still remember my mother’s sobs the day they died. My mother was so distraught that she asked me to go and find Lydia and make sure she was ok.” Bryce shook her head as if to dislodge a painful memory. “Don’t know why I am telling you that. You want to know about Preston molesting his niece don’t you?”

“Yes,” Lane said.

“About six months after she went to live with her aunt and uncle she came here one afternoon. I was the only one home and when I heard a horse galloping into the yard. I went outside to see who it was and there was Lydia in tears. I was surprised since it is a good ten miles from her uncle’s ranch.” “He…” She stopped then started again. “He really is a bastard.”

“Go on.”

“I helped her off the horse and asked her what the problem was. I figured that someone died. She just put her arms around me and cried even more. Finally, she stopped and told me that her uncle had pulled her into the barn and made her touch his penis.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Pissed…I wanted to go and beat him up but Lydia begged me not to go after him or tell anyone. I asked her why and she said that he’d kill her. She made me promise not to tell and I kept my word until now. Once I learned what he was doing, my hatred for the man grew every time I saw him. It wasn’t long before others speculated and whispered about them since no one ever saw one without the other.” She shrugged. “That was years ago, whispers die - he made sure of that!”

The information was startling and Lane tried to figure out why Lydia had said that Bryce wanted nothing to do with her. She was certain she noted a bit of fondness or something like that in Bryce’s voice but it was for such a fleeting moment that she couldn’t be sure. “Are you and Lydia friends?”

Bryce looked at the lawyer as if she were nuts. “NO! She is just a kid - an annoying kid.”

“You didn’t feel anything for her after she told you she was being molested?” Lane couldn’t believe anyone could be that cold hearted.

“Yeah, I felt like she was stupid for putting up with that. How can anyone be so demeaned and not do anything about it?”

Not for the first time, Lane thought Bryce was much like a surly child who, because they don’t understand, lashes out at the world. What had happened to Lydia was indeed horrible…without all the facts how can anyone judge why she put up with it. Lane would have liked to take the time to explore the question with Bryce but they had matters that were more pressing.

“Bryce, will you go over this list and tell me what you know about each person?” The woman moved closer and Lane passed the paper across the table to her. “The ones that have checks beside them are the people I think they will call to testify they witnessed you and Preston in arguments. Do you know any of the others?”

Grey blue eyes darted across the page. “Yeah I know them all.”

“And?”

“And what? You asked if I knew them and I do.” Bryce couldn’t hide anger. “They are some of the people who live and work on my ranches,” she said furiously. She threw the paper down on the table. “I have no idea what they will say about me.”

Although outwardly Bryce was angry, Lane could see the hurt in her eyes. “You know, just because they are on the list doesn’t mean they will testify or that they are on the prosecutions side. I am sure they are on a fishing expedition hoping to catch a mackerel instead of minnow.” Bryce looked unconvinced. “I did it myself as a prosecutor.”

Angrily, Bryce stabbed at the paper. “I have helped every name on that list in one way or another. The ones that live on my ranches were in danger of losing everything until I gave them a chance at a better life.” Her voice rose. “I don’t understand how they can sell me out! Well, they will be the ones that are sorry, I’ll see to that!”

Lane stood up, went nose to nose with her client and stated softly, “That is exactly the kind of talk that they will be testifying to.”

Bryce pushed her thick black hair behind one ear, moved a step backwards and shifted her gaze from the hazel eyes. No one had ever gotten in her face like that – except her father. As she finally realized the truth in her lawyer’s words, she felt sick as a horrible knot grew in her stomach. Then her grey blue eyes sought out the hazel ones and held them. “I guess I’ve screwed myself.”

Lane could feel her client’s warm breath on her face. She softly touched Bryce’s arm as if she were soothing a child and smiled. “Yes you have. From now on try and keep those kinds of words to yourself…if you need to speak them say them only to me.” She gently squeezed the arm. “Don’t worry you have me on your side now and I’ve checked the DA out. He has never tried a murder case or, for that matter, any case of importance. He is sure to make mistakes and I guarantee you I will capitalize on each one.”

“I am counting on that.”

Then Lane turned and picked the paper up. “Okay let’s see if we can figure out what these folks will be saying.

+ + +

Lane ran to her car and ducked inside closing the door quickly but the rain seemed to follow her. She shivered for a moment as the coldness of her wet hair touched her neck. As she drove down the dark, slick road, the conversations of the last several hours interlaced in such a fashion that nothing made sense. Lightening sliced through the sky illuminating the roadway for brief seconds until being thrown back into blackness. She shook her head attempting to dislodge a memory that kept evading her consciousness. Her gut told her that it was of significance. Just as a lightening strike seemingly hit next to her vehicle and she heard the crack of thunder, she remembered - he made sure of that. “That’s what Bryce’s said about the whispers concerning Preston Garrett and his niece.”

She stared out into the pitch-blackness of the night and drove on. “What did he do to stop people from speculating? What was it that Monty said?” She tired to compartmentalize all the conversations whirling around in her mind so she could make room for her memory. “Damn it! What did he say?” As the sky lit up in whites and yellows, she recalled the words… You will learn that some of them have power, some have influence and others are dangerous. Preston Garrett falls into the later category. “Even Monty wouldn’t say anything against the man.” Her right hand went to the seat next to her and she fished out her cell. Using her thumb, she flipped it open, quickly looked to locate the right key then pressed the number.

“Hello, Lane,” Monty’s voice boomed into the earpiece. She was always surprised when someone answered and knew who it was. Caller ID she reminded herself.

“Hey Monty, how are things going in DC?”

“Well, I know why I’m a lawyer and not a politician.” He laughed. Lane hadn’t a clue what was so funny but the man clearly was amused with his words. “How’s the case going? You meet with Bryce again?”

“Yeah, I met with her today and we went over the preliminary witness list.”

“Did she tell you where she was?”

“Nope, and I don’t think she will.” Lane sighed. “She certainly is a complicated woman…nothing like what I thought she would be.”

“Do you want out?”

Lane scrunched up her face. “Hell no.”

“Glad to hear it. Now tell me why you called.”

“I am curious about Preston Garrett and something you said about him.”

“What is that?” he said cautiously.

“That he was dangerous. What did you base that on?”

There was a long silence as Monty took a sip of his drink. Once he put the glass down, he spoke. “Have you ever studied snakes?”

“No.” Shit another one of his long-winded stories from which I’m supposed to garner wisdom. “What does that have to do with Garrett?”

“Now give me a minute girl I’m gettin’ to it.” He took another sip of his martini. “Snakes slither along the ground lookin’ for a rock to hide under. Once they make themselves comfortable they lay there quietly just bidin’ their time waitin’ for the perfect moment then boom, they lash out and bite you with their venom.” He swirled the liquid around in his glass. “That’s when they are the most dangerous.”

“Are you telling me that he was like a snake?”

“Darlin’ the man is dead. I imagine if you ask around you’ll find people are willin’ to talk about the seedier side of the man.”

“Like who?”

“Just ask around it won’t take long. I need to go now. I finally have a chance to eat my supper.

“Wait…” She wanted to know more but the phone went silent. “Damn it,” she screamed as she threw the phone on the seat. “Why couldn’t he just tell me a name?” The list of potential witnesses flashed in her mind just as a bolt of light pierced the sky. “Guess I will start there.”

Lane leaned forward slightly and pushed the button for the CD. She heard Mary J. Blige singing Rainy Day, lifted her head and let out a belly laugh. Still chuckling, she reached over, cranked up the volume and sang along… It’s just those rainy days…smile for me smile for me…

+ + +

Lane was glad to be home when the garage door clunked closed. At least she wouldn’t have to trudge through the rain with all her bags to get inside. She threw her briefcase and satchel on the couch and for the first time in hours allowed her shoulders to relax. She was angry - angry with Monty for not telling her more and very angry with Bryce for her stubbornness in keeping her whereabouts a secret. “How the hell does she expect me to defend her if she can’t trust me enough to tell me the one clue that is missing,” she muttered. She walked towards her bedroom unbuttoning her shirt as she went. A nice hot bath is what I need to clear the cobwebs out and start a new.

The thoughts about Bryce and the upcoming trial spun in her head as she lowered herself into the steaming water. One thought kept trying to float to the surface and she willed it to go away but it didn’t. “Did she kill him?” she asked the room. The answer whirled around in her head softly…I don’t knowand I don't want to know.

An hour later, Lane felt refreshed and ready to tackle the chore at hand - what to eat. She opened the refrigerator then one cabinet door after another slamming each one with a hearty shit. “Where is the chocolate when you need some?” The phone rang and she barked “Hello.”

“Lane is that you?” a soft voice asked. “It’s Lydia.”

Lane’s mood softened somewhat when she heard Lydia’s voice. “Yeah it’s me. Sorry it’s been a rough day.”

“Oh I’m sorry to hear that. I must have known that ‘cause I’m calling to see if you want to meet me for drinks.”

Lane threw her head back and sighed. The girl’s voice so filled with hope in stark contrast to their parting of the night before. Lane wanted to spend more time with the girl. Just who am I trying to fool? I want to get her in bed,but now that’s impossible. “I can’t I’m sorry.”

“Is it something I did?” The voice sounded teary. “I’m sorry I just took off like that last night. I shouldn’t have been so pushy…I just wanted to get closer to you. I’m sorry.”

“No, it has nothing to do with last night.”

“Then why the brush off? I thought everything was cool with us.”

Lane could hear the muted anger and dejection, reminding her of a younger Bryce. Damn it, do all the women in these parts ever grow up! “Lydia, everything is cool.” She remembered the passionate kisses. Any sort of relationship at this time is impossible. Shit! Maybe I can get her in my bed after the trial. I owe her an explanation if I want that to happen. Damn. “When I stayed at the Comfort Inn I discovered they had a decent bar. Want to meet me there in say thirty minutes?”

Lydia’s voice took a decided upbeat. “Yes.”

“See you there.” She hung up the phone and looked down at her ratty old robe. “Guess I need to change.” This time she wouldn’t be dressing for a date. She would be letting down someone who probably deserved better. She chuckled. I bet she thinks we are going to get a room.

+ + +

The bar area was much like any other motel bar – bright around the bar and dimly lit elsewhere. Lane had often speculated that the lights around the bar were like a beacon so drunks could find there way to it. She looked around the room and saw Lydia waving her over to a booth in the farthest corner. That won’t do. She gave a slight wave and headed in the direction of the young girl.

“Hi,” Lydia said with a big smile as she attempted to pull Lane in for a hug. The half-hearted response from the lawyer had her frowning. “I hope you don’t mind I ordered you a drink.” She pointed to the drink sitting on the table of the dimly lit booth and shrugged.

“That’s fine but can we sit out here? I really don’t like sitting in booths.”

Lydia’s face fell further. “Sure,” she said sullenly, “I thought the booth would be more private.”

She’s already for a date and probably hoping for a night of sex and I won’t even sit where she wants.Shit! “I’m sorry.” Lane scanned the room and saw one table not shrouded in darkness. “Come on let’s sit it over here.” Without turning to see if the girl was following her, she went to the table and sat down.

The message of the glasses clunking down hard on the table was unmistakable -Lydia was upset. “Here’s your drink.” The coolness of her voice chilled the air.

Lane blew out a breath and began to speak. “ Lydia something has come up and I’m afraid we won’t be able to go out socially again.” She saw the look of disappointment. “Just for a few months that’s all,” she added trying to soften the blow.

“Why? I thought we got along great and that you liked me. You kissed me as if you wanted more…I know you want me I saw it in the way you look at me. It’s the same way that…,” she said trembling.

Lane waited to reply wondering if Lydia would finish the sentence with my uncle looked at me. When she didn’t, Lane spoke with a softened voice. “We did and I do but right now it isn’t possible.”

A tear carelessly rolled down the young woman’s cheek. “Have I done something wrong? If you tell me what it is I’ll fix it.” Desperation infused in each word.

Lane resisted the urge to reach across the table and take the girl’s hand. “It has nothing to do with you - it has to do with the district attorney.”

“The DA? I don’t understand what does he have to do with me I hardly know the man.”

“I got the preliminary witness list for the trial today and you are on it. Ethically I can’t see you on a social basis.” She shrugged. “It will compromise my case.”

A look of pure hatred filled the young face. “Can’t she keep her hands off my life?”

Lane was certain she knew who the she was but asked anyway. “Who?”

“Bryce! She can’t keep her mouth shut. She is always out to make trouble for everyone.” Lydia’s face scrunched up as she spat out, “I hate her!”

Fortunately, the bar had only a few patrons. Those that were there turned in their direction when Lydia’s voice rose above the sounds of Melissa Etheridge’s I’m the Only One.

The mark of a good attorney is that they know when to shut up and listen, Lane’s father had always told her and she did just that.

“She was always harassing my uncle getting in his face telling him to leave me alone. She’d take every opportunity to make him out to be a joke and every time I had to pay the price for her actions. I can’t wait until they lock her up and if we are very lucky, they will give her the death penalty. I hate her!” The high-pitched voice of Lydia had the three other people turning to looked at them again. Her face was bright red and the veins seemed to be popping out of her neck. “I finally find someone who I can connect with and she’s ruined that too.” She swiped her hand across her face to erase the tears.

Briefly closing her eyes at the venomous remarks from Lydia, perhaps there was more to Bryce’s version than she had originally considered earlier in the day. Perhaps I should revisit that point with Bryce tomorrow. As brightly as possible, Lane replied, “Nothing is ruined, just delayed.” She gave Lydia one of those smiles she kept for charity causes - that was a mistake.

The girl furrowed her brows. “I don’t need your pity,” she snapped. “It’s all her fault. She promised she wouldn’t say anything.”

Lane’s eyebrow shot up with the comment. “About what?” She held her breath.

Lydia’s lip curled and her eyes narrowed. “You lawyers aren’t supposed to divulge what your clients tell you…I suspect you already know the answer.” She pounded her fist on the table. “Why did she have to do this to me?”

“What did she do?” Lane asked cautiously.

“She…” Lydia turned away from Lane. “She has to pay.”

“For what Lydia?”

“All I ever wanted was a friend,” she said regretfully. Lydia picked up her glass, swallowed the contents in one gulp. She scrapped her chair backwards along the grungy carpet so hard that it fell backwards. “The drinks have been paid for. I’ll see you in court!” She picked up the chair, replaced it then walked towards the door quickly before going out of sight.

Lane fished in her pocketbook for a tablet and pen then swiftly jotted down everything Lydia had said. Others saw them together and may have even overheard the conversation and that was not good. Ethics forbid her from fraternizing with a potential witnesses and she had broken that rule. The fact that Lydia would be testifying for the prosecution made her decision to meet with the woman all the more reprehensible. I knew better. But, on the bright side, I did see a side of Lydia I don’t think anyone else has seen. The girl certainly can get angry. I think I will chalk this one up to research. She quickly scribbled a note about billable hours. Pity I didn’t buy the drinks.

She moved slightly in the chair then picked up her drink. The ice cubes had all but melted and she knew she would taste a watery substitute for real scotch. Curling her nose, she put the drink back down. Lydia said that Bryce told Preston to leave her alone. Hmm I wonder…was she Lydia’s enemy or her salvation? Then she boldly wrote MOTIVE circling it several times. Under that she wrote, who had a reason to kill him and why. Glancing at the television, she saw the news was on which meant it was her bedtime. A smile crossed her face as a picture of Bryce flashed across the screen before the reporter spoke of the trial and her lawyer, the former ADA from Houston, Lane Cuthbert. I need sleep. When a perky woman appeared on the screen predicting brightly that the next day’s weather would be hot Lane rolled her eyes. “Tell me something new,” Lane said absently as she got up to leave.

For the second time that day, she sat in her car listening to the cranking sounds of the garage door closing. She would get a good night’s sleep and then, in the light of the next day, review all the information she had gathered from both Bryce and Lydia. She exited her car, went into her house, stripped off her clothes and pulled the sheets of her unmade bed up around her shoulders. She closed her eyes as the events of the day floated into her waning consciousness. I can’t think about that now I’m too tired she thought before sleep enveloped her completely.

Part Five

Lane sat in the courtroom listening to the judge give the prospective jurors the standard instructions. She had spent a great deal of the morning arguing a myriad of pretrial motions before the judge. Meanwhile, her paralegal team made some final inquires about prospective jurors giving her a good idea of whom she wanted on the jury. Prior to court reconvening Bryce browsed the list - she knew none of them. "It's not like I know everyone in area. The truth is that except for ranchers, I really don't know many people."

"Well, then maybe we can find jurors who will be impartial." Lane doubted her words for someone would have had to live under a rock not to know about the richest family in these parts.

Once the judge had finished with his instructions, voir dire started. Lane consulted her notes before questioning the prospective jurors and rejected more than she accepted. At first, Lane hadn't paid too much attention to what Bryce was doodling on a legal pad figuring she was nervous and needed an outlet. Just before Lane was about to question one man Bryce touched her arm and tapped on the legal pad. What she saw amazed her. Bryce had sketched a caricature of the man with the word redneck below the drawing and circled the word repeatedly.

"Ms. Cuthbert do you have any questions for this person?" the judge asked.

"Yes, your Honor." She looked at the man who had thinning white hair, a bulbous nose and square chin. The thing she noticed about him most was the arrogant look of his mouth. "Tell me Mr. Menger," she started as she reviewed her notes. "What is your opinion of interracial relationships?"

The man frowned. "It is not the way God intended people to live. The same should stay with the same. You don't see birds screwing around with ones not like them."

"Would you have a problem with anyone who was a product of such a union?"

"It just ain't right."

"I'll take that as a no." Lane briefly looked at Bryce and smiled. "We challenge this juror for cause."

As voir dire continued, Lane would look at Bryce's comments before asking questions. Most of the comments were already in Lane's notes but occasionally Bryce would point out an aspect that the lawyer hadn't considered. The process took almost three days and for the most part, Lane was happy with those that would sit in judgment of her client. Surprisingly, all the jurors had heard of the Clayton family but beyond that had no knowledge or dealings with them. Even more astonishing was the fact that none had met, heard of, or seen Bryce. On the other hand, most knew of Preston Garrett and divided evenly as to their opinions of the man. Most of the long time residents recalled his land deal that brought all those outsiders into our town, as one older man said. Six jurors were of a Latino background, which Lane felt, was a plus for Bryce. In addition, the seven woman six man jury consisted of three retirees, a nurse, two teachers, a college student, two ranch hands, a homemaker and a truck driver.

Bryce sat next to her lawyer and scrutinized each of the jurors. Those people aren't my peers. I bet not one of them makes over fifty thousand a year. There was a tap on her shoulder and she turned around to see her mother sitting behind her.

"I went to church and lit a candle for you." Her face softened. "Very soon we will have this all behind us." The shallow smile on Bryce's face didn't fool her mother. She saw the anxiousness in her daughter's eyes and she stood up, leaned over the rail and hugged Bryce.

Lane listened to the conversation between mother and daughter then watched the jury's reaction as Margarita embraced her daughter. If they were touched or cared, it didn't show.

Guards moved towards the mother and daughter as the judge rapped his gavel. "Please, everyone stay seated. Mr. Kunkle, will you be ready to begin your case on Monday?"

"Yes, your Honor."

"We will reconvene at nine on Monday morning." His eyes tracked to the lawyers. "I will meet with you both in my chambers tomorrow morning at eight." With a rap of his gavel he said, "Court is adjourned."

+ + +

The courtroom was jammed with spectators who sat knee to knee on the highly polished wooden benches. Bryce's trial was big news and the entire town apparently turned out for the event along with hoards of reporters. When the bailiff said, "All rise," the pocket doors near the judge's bench opened and Judge Anthony Aniline entered the court.

Once the judge gave instructions to the jury and asked if both the prosecution and defense were ready, the DA laid out his case in chief. His opening statement wove a story of the anger and revenge that lead Bryce to murder Preston Garrett. Lane wrote down the major points of his argument and made notes by each one. I've heard this all before if this is all they have then we will win, she thought until she heard the DA say, we have an eyewitness. Lane threw a look in the direction of the DA then to her client. Nowhere in the reams of information handed over from the prosecution was there any indication of a witness. The DA had blindsided her by omission -ah the beauty of a Grand Jury. On her yellow legal pad, she wrote eyewitness circling the words boldly. Leaning over to Randall Huggins, her second chair, and whispered, "Find out who that is!"

Randall's eyes threw darts at the back of the lawyer who had just had given him her instructions. Just who the hell does she think she is ordering me around like that! Bitch.

When it was Lane's turn to speak, she stood up, adjusted her suit jacket and walked towards the jury box. "Good morning," she said sweetly before giving them her best smile. Fifteen minutes later she summed up her opening by saying, "A rush to judgment is what we have here ladies and gentlemen. Listen carefully to all the witnesses and see if you can spot those that believe Bryce Clayton did this horrible crime solely based on whether they like her or her family. Thank you."

"Mr. Kunkle, call your first witness," the judge said.

"We call Dr. Stewart Barclay to the stand."

Once the doctor had taken his oath, the DA asked, "Doctor Barclay will you tell the jury what your position is?"

"I am a medical examiner."

"Did you do the autopsy on the victim in this case, Preston Garrett?"

The doctor explained what he found during the autopsy. Once the DA was satisfied that he had covered everything and all the autopsy photos were on display it was Lane's turn for cross-examination.

"Doctor Barclay, you stated that you found marks that were made by a whip around the neck of the victim."

"That's right."

"In this picture marked 2-A it shows the mark around the front of the neck. Did the impression of the whip go around the entire neck?"

"No the marks were primarily on the front part of the victim's neck."

"I see. Tell me did the victim die from the whip or the fall?"

"The fall caused damage to the medulla. Death was instantaneous."

"Is it true that the fall not the whip caused his death?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell how long after the whip marks were placed on the neck did the fall occur?"

"The bruising indicated that the injury was antemortem."

"How long after the whip was wrapped around the victim's neck did the fall occur?"

"I assume that it was immediately after."

"Why would you assume that?"

"Something made the man fall off the horse. The evidence indicates that was a result of the whip being wrapped around his throat."

"Can you say with certainty the amount of time between the whip injury and the fall from the horse?"

"No."

"Doctor, did the whip kill the victim or did the fall?"

"The fall."

"Thank you." Lane sat down satisfied that she had made her point.

+ + +

The next witness was Sheriff Joe Don Wilkins. While the sheriff related the details of his investigation, Lane sat patiently listening to every word. Bryce had drawn an exaggerated caricature of the man along with the words, how many crime scenes and boldly underneath that, the word experience. Lane nodded and wrote my thoughts exactly. When the DA finished Lane was on her feet immediately, straightening her jacket and smoothing out the straight skirt.

"How many crime scenes for murder have you investigated?"

The sheriff moved uncomfortably in the chair. "This is the first one."

"Have you gone to school or had any training on effective crime scene investigation?"

"I've read some. I have a team of investigators that know all that."

"Have they had training?"

"Of course they have what kinda department do you think we have?"

"How many of your investigators have processed a murder scene before?"

"Some, I'm not sure which ones."

"Sheriff Wilkins, did you suspect anyone other than Bryce Clayton?"

"It was pretty clear who done it."

"What lead you to that conclusion?"

"It is well known that the two of them were at each other all the time."

"What do you mean at each other?"

"Anytime the two of them were together there was always a shoutin' match."

"Other than shouting was there ever any physical violence?"

The sheriff thought for a moment. "Yeah, a few weeks before the murder they got into at the cafe."

"Is that the Blue Bonnet?"

"Yes."

"Was blood drawn?"

"No, it was more of a shovin' match."

"Did anyone file a complaint?"

"No."

Lane picked up one of the prosecutions photos. "Sheriff, is this a photo you took at the crime scene?"

The sheriff looked at the picture and said, "Yes."

"This appears to be a boot print is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Do you know who it belongs to?"

"No."

"Did you try to match any of Bryce's boots against it?"

"Yes."

"Did they match?"

"No. She got rid of it after killin' Preston."

"I move to strike."

"The jury will disregard the last statement. Sheriff, please confine your answers to the questions asked."

"How many boots, other than Bryce's, did you check to see if they matched the print left at the crime scene?"

"We checked out every boot that belonged to the team that worked the crime scene."

"Did you take possession of any boots other than Bryce Clayton's?"

"No." The sheriff glared at the defendant.

Lane moved so she stood between the sheriff and Bryce. She picked up another photo. "Sheriff, do you recognize these photos?"

Joe Don shuffled through the pictures. "Yeah."

"Will you tell the jury what the pictures show?"

"It's of hoof prints at the scene."

"You mentioned to Mr. Kunkle that one set belonged to the victim's horse and you speculated the others belonged to the murderer is that right?"

"That's right."

"Did you search for the horse that had those particular shoes at the Clayton Ranch and at Bryce's ranch, Ascensión?"

"Yep."

"Did you find the horse?"

"Nope."

"Why is that Sheriff?"

"They don't shoe their horses," the sheriff mumbled.

"Can you speak up Sheriff so the jury can hear you?"

"I said they don't shoe their horses," he said angrily.

"If the unknown shoe prints belong to the murderer's horse and you think Bryce is that person where is the horse?"

"Objection. She's leading the witness."

"Sustained."

"Did you ever find the horse that these shoe prints belong to Sheriff?"

"No."

"Where else did you look?"

The sheriff's eyes darted to the DA. "We figured she must of used one that wasn't on their ranches."

"How many horses did you look at to see if they matched the ones left at the crime scene?"

"None, we knew who did it, why look anywhere else?"

"Maybe because someone else did it," Lane retorted.

The DA was on his feet. "Your Honor"

"Sorry, it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Judge Aniline admonished.

"Thank you your Honor."

Lane raised her eyebrows at the jury then picked up another photo. "In this photo there is a whip hanging from a saddle. Is that the murder weapon?"

"Yes and that's her saddle."

"You also collected two more whips from the tack room at the Clayton Ranch didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Where did you find them?"

"In a wooden box."

"Where in the box?"

The sheriff's eyes looked at the district attorney begging for help - none came. "At the bottom."

"Was anything over them?"

"Yeah, some blankets and other equipment."

"Is it true that the whip that you claim is the murder weapon was out in plain sight while the others were hidden?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Lane turned her attention to the witness. "Sheriff Wilkins, how long have you known Bryce Clayton?"

"Since she was a kid."

"Do you know anything about her intelligence?"

The DA jumped up. "Objection, this goes beyond scope."

"Your Honor, the DA asked the witness if he thought Bryce Clayton was a smart women - my question goes to that. If you will just let me ask a few more questions the relevance will be clear."

"Overruled. You better get to the point quickly Ms. Cuthbert."

"Thank you. Sheriff, are you aware of the fact that Bryce graduated from high school at fourteen and college with two degrees at sixteen?"

"Your Honor," the DA said.

"Get to the point counselor. Sheriff Wilkins you may answer the question.

"Yeah I heard something about that."

"Did you know that she belongs to the Mensa Society?"

"Your Honor."

"You're on a short leash Ms. Cuthbert."

"Yes, thank you. Two more questions and I promise it will be relevant."

The judge nodded and Lane took in a deep breath. "Did you know she belonged to the Mensa Society Sheriff?"

"That must be somethin' for smart rich folks."

"Actually it is a society for those with an IQ that is in the top 2% of the population." She blew out a long breath. "Sheriff, do you want this court to believe that Bryce Clayton who is in extremely intelligent would hide the boots she wore, borrow a horse from another ranch then forget to hide the alleged murder weapon?"

The sheriff looked perplexed. "Maybe that is how she planned it so no one would suspect her."

Lane was on a roll. "Sheriff you said that you have a passing acquaintance with the Clayton family. Is it true that you dislike Bryce's father, Sam Clayton?"

"We nod ta one another that's all. He's not my friend."

"Isn't it true that you have been at odds with him ever since he wouldn't support your run for sheriff?"

"No."

Lane went to the defendants table and picked up a paper. "I would like to enter this letter from Jo Don Wilkins to Sam Clayton dated December 8, 1986, into evidence."

"I want to see that!" Dan Kunkle said. He gave the document a cursory look, shook his head and whispered shit before giving it back to Lane.

Lane handed the sheriff the document. "Would you please read the highlighted part?"

The sheriff's face grew red with anger. "I'm not readin' this."

Lane looked to the judge. "Your Honor will you please instruct the witness to read the document."

"Sheriff, you must read the document."

Joe Don shook his head in disgust then began to read. "You made your bed Sam now you have to lie in itYou'll be sorry that you didn't back me for sheriffjust remember that I will be watching you and your family for any infractions of the law. When that happens, I promise you I will do everything I can to see any of you are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

"Sheriff, did you investigate anyone other than Bryce Clayton?"

Joe Don belligerently said, "No."

"Are you fulfilling your promise in that letter?"

"NO!" he shouted. "She did it!"

"Move to strike."

"The jury will disregard the witness's last statement."

"I'm finished with this witness." Lane sat down next to Bryce and gave her a confident smile.

Bryce leaned into her lawyer and whispered, "Damn you're good."

Lane smiled and unthinking touched Bryce's hand. "We have a long way to go yet."

Normally, Bryce would recoil from any physical contact that she did not initiate, but the warm touch of the lawyer's hand on hers was pleasant. When Lane finally removed her hand, Bryce felt a longing to have it touch her again. Covertly, she let her eyes study the woman's face and she again realized just how good looking the woman was. Unlike many women who once their makeup is off look like an entirely different person, Lane was a natural beauty. Bryce studied the fresh, flawless skin noting that it was void of makeup of any kind. Lips, which to Bryce begged for kisses, were covered with a red, but not too red lipstick. The only thing she would change about the lawyer was the black rimmed glasses that she kept putting on and taking off. They don't do her face justice. Why doesn't she just wear contacts? A rap of a gavel brought her focus back to the courtroom.

+ + +

Two days later, after all the crime scene specialists and several deputies had testified Preston Garrett's ranch foreman took to the stand. Hector Gomez was a small Hispanic man with graying black hair, a thick moustache and brown black eyes. He sat easily in the witness chair waiting for Lane's cross examination of him. If he was at all nervous or intimidated by the process, it did not show. The man's eyewitness accounts that placed Bryce at the scene had sent Lane's paralegal scurrying out of the courtroom. Lane had deftly cross examined the coroner, the sheriff and the criminalists, but with this man, she would need all her skills. His testimony had been clear, concise and never wavered in his recount of the early morning hours when Preston was murdered.

Lane stood up, adjusted her suit jacket and then cleared her throat. "Mr. Gomez you said that you have worked at the Garrett Ranch for thirty-five years is that correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Did you work anywhere else before the Garrett Ranch?"

"Yes."

"Where was that?"

"I worked for six months on the Sterling Ranch."

"What was your position there?"

"I was a ranch hand."

"Why did you leave that ranch?"

"Mr. Preston offered me more money."

"For the same job?"

"No, I groomed horses at first."

"When did you become foreman?"

"Around nineteen eighty-five."

"Where did you work before the Sterling Ranch?"

Hector swallowed deeply. "At the Clayton Ranch."

"And what years were they?"

"Sixty-five for a year or so."

"Did you have any job between then and when you started at the Sterling ranch?"

"No."

"Is it correct that you didn't have a job for five years after you left the Clayton Ranch?"

"Yes."

"Why did you leave?"

"Mr. Clayton didn't like me so he fired me."

Lane cleared her throat and scrunched her eyebrows together. "That's all there was to ithe didn't like you so he fired you?"

The witness squirmed slightly. "Yes."

Good I've caught him in a lie. "Are you telling this court that the fact that Mr. Clayton found you and two other ranch hands selling his cattle had nothing to do with it?"

"Objection, Ms Cuthbert is leading the witness."

"I'll rephrase."

"Mr. Gomez, what were the circumstances surrounding your being fired from the Clayton Ranch?"

Hector's voice became slightly louder. "I didn't have anything to do with that. I told Mr. Clayton that at the time."

"You didn't have anything to do with what?"

"Stealin' those cows."

"Who stole them?"

"Some other guys, but not me."

"Didn't Mr. Clayton have pictures of you and the other two taking money and handing over his cows?" Lane picked up some photographs from the table and said, "I'd like these photographs to be entered as defense exhibit one."

Lane turned back towards the defendants table so she could get a good look at the DA as she passed him copies of the photos. His eyes seemed to bug out in disbelief. Ha, gotcha with something you didn't know. As she returned her focus to the witness she asked, "How then do you explain these pictures Mr. Gomez?" She handed the witness the black and whites showing him and two others taking money. Another photo showed the men with cows that were clearly branded as Circle C the Clayton brand."

The witnesses face grew red. "That was a long time ago. I was a kid and didn't know any better."

"Were you angry with Sam Clayton?"

Gomez smiled. "They were his cows and he had every right to fire us. At the time I was angry but I got over it."

"The fact that you couldn't get a job for five years didn't make you want revenge?"

"Like I said, that was a long time ago."

Lane realized that the witness had regained his composure and questioning him further on the point would be useless. "Mr. Gomez you said in your earlier testimony that you witnessed a person dressed in dark clothing, riding a black stallion in pursuit of Preston Garrett around five thirty in the morning of July fifteenth. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"The weather service said that the skies were overcast on that day. How far away did you say this rider was?"

"About a hundred yards."

"At the time could you tell if the rider was chasing Mr. Garrett or if they were in a race?"

"I doubt if the boss would be in any kind of race with that woman."

"How did you know what was happening?"

"I knew and she was chasin' him."

"How do you know that Mr. Gomez?"

"Why else would they be out there at that time of the mornin'?"

"Judge would you please ask the witness to answer my question."

"Mr. Gomez you must answer the question." The judge's attention turned to the court reporter. "Please read back the last question."

"Ms. Cuthbert - How do you know that Mr. Gomez?"

"I didn't but"

"Moving on," Lane interrupted.

"Mr. Gomez you stated in your testimony that you would know Bryce's stallion anywhere is that correct?"

"Yes. She's always riding him at the rodeo doing tricks with her whip."

Lane was pleased that he commented on the rodeo. "Are you telling the court that the last time you saw the horse was at the rodeo?"

"Yes."

"Which one?"

"I don't know for sure but it was sometime last summer."

"What would you say if I told you that Bryce hasn't participated in a rodeo event in three years?"

"I'd say you are wrong ‘cause I know I saw her."

"If I produce a written affidavit that states that the last rodeo she was involved in was in two thousand and three would you still say you saw her last summer?"

"I know I saw her last summer."

"Not in a rodeo," Lane said hoping that she wouldn't hear an objection. She did.

Lane turned her attention to the judge when he asked, "How much more do you have for this witness Ms. Cuthbert."

"Quite a bit more your Honor."

"Since the hour is late we will adjourn until tomorrow." He struck his gavel. "Court is adjourned until tomorrow at nine A.M."

The bailiff said, "All rise."

Once the judge had disappeared through the pocket doors, Lane let her shoulders relax. It would be a long night as she and her team prepared for the next round with Hector Gomez.

+ + +

At seven the next morning, Lane met with Randall Huggins her second chair. He was a decent lawyer but lacked the spark to take him farther in the firm. She had been up all night preparing her case to discredit Hector Gomez – if she couldn't it would put a serious crimp in her campaign to free Bryce. "What do you have for me Brett?"

The man took a deep breath. He really resented being the woman's lackey. The partnership was mine and she stole it from me just because she had the bucks to buy her way in. "Here are pictures of six black stallions that are on ranches that are within a ten mile radius of the murder scene. I took the pictures with approximately the same daylight as July fifteenth. All the owners have signed the backs of the pictures to verify the authenticity of the photos."

Lane looked at the pictures. "Can you see any discernable difference in the horses?"

"No, but I really don't know anything about horses. Do you have someone who can look at them for us?" Like your client.Why is she going down this path? Can't she see it has disaster written all over it?

"Sam Clayton should be here any time now and we will see if he can pick out Bryce's horse."

"What happens if Gomez picks the right one?" She thinks she is a hotshot lawyer but how can she be so stupid as to risk her client like this?

"Don't even think that Brett. It is hard enough with a client that won't fully cooperate. If Hector Gomez happens to pick the right horse we will be up shit's creek."

Randall looked at his associate for a long time. "Did she do it?"

Tired, sleepy hazel eyes lit up. "Why would you ask that?"

"Well this witness seems positive that he saw her there and if I were on the jury I would be seriously wondering if she did it. Besides, she won't tell you where she was, if the jury gets hold of that information it may well seal the deal." Now there's a thought a leak to the press about Clayton's lack of an alibi. Hmm.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know if she did it or not but I am going on the assumption that she is innocent. Otherwise, I don't think I could defend her properly."

This case was Lane's opportunity to become nationally recognized and that was, after all, why she became Monty's partner. Every major network had a representative stationed in the courtroom. With each recess, she could see them scurrying out to their respective vans, grab a microphone and smile for their cameraperson. She had never turned down an opportunity to say a few words to whoever requested an interview. The night before, someone from CNN asked, what do you think of Hector Gomez's testimony that he saw Bryce Clayton chasing Preston Garrett? Her answer was, wait until tomorrow before you make any judgments.

It was tomorrow and almost show time. She looked at the photos once again. What will I do if he happens to pick the right one? She heard the door open and saw Sam standing in the threshold. "Good morning."

"Good morning Ms. Cuthbert. Do you have the pictures?"

"Yes." She handed them to him and held her breath.

Sam studied each picture carefully then reviewed them again. "One really has to know Bryce's horse to pick it out."

Lane's heart lodged in her throat as her chest tightened. "You mean you know which one is hers?"

"Not for sure. You see the light isn't very good so at that distance it is hard to tell much detail about the horses. I doubt to the casual observer any one horse will look much different from the next."

"If you had to choose which one would it be?"

Sam sorted through the photos then held one up, "this one." He turned it over, looked at the name then laughed. "Nope it is Richard Sterling's horse."

Lane felt the constriction in her chest lessen but only somewhat. When she arrived in the courtroom and sat down next to her client, she smiled thinly. "Well how's your luck at gambling?"

Bryce looked at her attorney quizzically. "What do you mean?"

Lane laid out the six pictures on the red brown mahogany table. "Can you pick which one is your horse?"

One by one, Bryce looked at the pictures and arranged them across the table. "In that light it is hard to make out one from the other," she said. A long, tapered and calloused finger tapped on a picture. "This is my horse."

Lane shook her head as she looked at the name on the back of the picture. "An owner should know her own horse. But, if I show them to Gomez there is a one in six chance that he will pick the right one."

"The man's a liar. He didn't see me on any horse that morning. As for the chances, there is a ninety-four percent chance he won't pick the right one. I'd say the odds are stacked against him."

"That's what I thought." Call it sixth sense or fortune telling but that little voice inside Lane's head said don't do it. "I don't see that we have a choice. If I don't try to discredit him with this then the jury will think his testimony is true and that, will not bode well for our side."

Bryce waved her hand. "Oh you'll get me off. That bozo of a DA isn't any match for you."

"Don't let him fool you. He is more skilled than you might think."

"My money is on you."

Lane smiled briefly then stood up when the bailiff said, "All rise."

Hector Gomez was once again on the stand with the judge reminding him he was still under oath before the questioning began. Lane entered the six pictures into evidence then handed them to the DA then to the witness. Lane could feel her heart racing and wondered if everyone in the courtroom saw the veins thumping in her neck. She ran her tongue over her lips then spoke. "Do you recognize where these pictures were taken?"

"Yes, it is near where Mr. Garrett was murdered."

"Is the lighting of those pictures approximately the same as on the morning of July sixteenth?"

The man studied the photos. "Yeah, it seems about right."

"Can you tell the jury what is in the pictures?"

He thumbed through them. "They are all of black horses."

Lane blew out a breath. "Each of the original photos is signed by the owners of the horses to verify their authenticity. Mr. Gomez, can you tell me from those photos which one is Bryce Clayton's horse?" Lane discreetly crossed her fingers and every prayer that she had learned in bible school went up to the heavens.

Hector scratched his head and studied the pictures with a concerned look on his face. He looked at the DA, at the jury and then at the defense table and squinted. Bryce Clayton was glaring at him while the woman asking him questions was leaning against the table. The other defense attorney caught his attention with his dark disbelieving eyes mesmerizing him. His eyes focused on the chin resting on the man's thumb with the little finger crossing his lip while the others splayed against his cheek. He narrowed his eyes before looking back at the defense attorney.

Lane let out a breath. He doesn't know. "Mr. Gomez you said you knew the horse by sight anywhere. Which horse is it?" She knew she was taunting him. If he happened to pick the right one, the jury might remember that it wasn't immediate in answering. The time seemed to be in slow motion and with each tick of the clock the hollow feeling in the pit of Lane's stomach grew exponentially. A little voice was screaming take them back. "Well, Mr. Gomez, can you pick the horse or not?"

Hector looked at Lane with confusion written all over his face. He looked again at the defense table, back at the pictures then to the jury. "It is number three."

Randall Huggins, pleased with the answer, smiled inwardly as he removed his hand from his face. Guess he got my subliminal message. Why is it that the dumb ones can be so easily influenced? It's to my good fortune I would say. He had to fight the chuckle that threatened to erupt. Wait until Geiger hears about this mess, he's going to want to pull her name off the letterheads tomorrow. AndI'm just the person to tell him. It didn't matter to him if Bryce Clayton went to jail in his campaign to eliminate Lane Cuthbert from the firm. I never liked the woman anyway. She is far too smug and arrogant for my tastes. No wonder she hasn't found a man. His eyes took in Bryce's body hungrily. I could show her a good time with a real man not one of those rich sluts.

The little voice in Lane's head was now screaming told you so told you so. For Lane, being in court was like playing the lead in a drama with the jury being the ultimate critic in deciding if she would win the Oscar. She would play her part to perfection and never tip her hand or let the jury or anyone in the courtroom see how far the man's answer had thrown her. Damn. Turning to the table, she referred to her notes and her eyes drifted to Bryce's drawing. Circled in bold script was the word gender. With an imperceptible nod towards her client, she turned back to the witness. "You are correct that is a picture of Bryce's horse." She pursed her lips. "Mr. Gomez, can you look at the jury and tell them your answer wasn't a guess?"

The man's face reddened and his eyes, refusing to look at the lawyer or jury, shifted to the floor. "It was not a guess."

Lane knew he was lying but there was no way to prove it unless she redid the pictures and had him look at them again. She put that thought in the back of her mind and asked the question of gender. "Was it a male or female riding the horse?"

"A female of course," Hector said pointedly.

"How do you know it was a female?"

"It was her horse it must have been her riding it."

"Can you say with certainty that it was a woman riding the horse?"

"Yes," he said emphatically.

"Tell me how you knew it was a woman?"

Hector sputtered, "II could see breasts."

"You're telling me that at a distance of one hundred yards on a dimly lit morning you could see breasts?" Lane looked at the jury and allowed her eyebrows to rise.

A wave of laughter filled the courtroom before the judge rapped his gavel for quiet.

"Yes, I definitely saw breasts."

"Mr. Gomez, have you ever taken a good look at Bryce Clayton?"

"Yes, I know who she is. She is sitting right over there." He pointed a gnarled finger in Bryce's direction.

Lane looked at her client and winked. "Bryce, would you please stand up?"

"Your honor I object."

"Sit down Mr. Kunkle."

Bryce stood.

"Will you please stand sideways so that your left shoulder is facing the judge?"

In understanding, Bryce smiled and turned.

"Now, Mr. Gomez, take a look at Bryce Clayton and tell me are they the breasts you saw?"

Gomez's face went scarlet and the DA stood up. "Objection."

The judge tried to cover his amusement with a fist to his mouth and a slight cough. "On what grounds Mr. Kunkle?"

"They were never brought properly into evidence."

The packed courtroom collectively let out a belly laugh.

The judge rubbed his clean shaven face and pondered what to do. "Sustained."

Lane didn't bother to argue the point for it was clear to everyone that Bryce Clayton's breasts were on the small side. "At this time I have no further questions of this witness." She may have gambled and lost on the horse but, if the jury believed Gomez, Bryce's breast weren't on the horse.

The state called numerous witnesses to testify as to what a great person Preston Garrett was along with recounting various altercations involving the two. Lane handled each deftly making each witness admit that Preston wasn't always a great guy. She also was able to have each witness verify that the arguments were nothing more than verbal sparring matches. To a person, not one thought either party was in real danger when the incident involving Preston lunging at Bryce and her retaliation became known. Bodily harm to either participant was not a concern to anyone. Court adjourned for the weekend, giving Lane two days to hone her skills for the final defense witness – Lydia Peterson.

Part Six

Lane sat patiently at the defendant’s table listening and watching as Lydia gave her testimony. Recalling her past meetings with the woman, Lane remembered a smiling girl with a killer body. Now, Lydia seemed small and fragile. Nevertheless, when it came time to cross-examine her she would go for the jugular. She had taken part in enough trials to know how to play to win. Lydia would have to suffer any of the arrows needed to free Bryce. Looking over at the now familiar drawings, Lane, surprised to see a delicate portrait rather than an exaggerated caricature, touched the drawing and looked curiously at Bryce.

Bryce, feeling exposed, quickly tried to cover the piece of paper but her hand collided with the one touching the paper. She pulled back and turned her eyes away refusing to look in her lawyer’s direction.

Lane shook her head. What’s that all about? She didn’t have time to dwell on the thought when she heard the DA winding down his walk down memory lane with Lydia. Lane looked at the juror’s faces – they obvious felt sympathy for the girl who had lost not only her parents, but also a man she viewed as a father. Standing up, her face softened with a sympathetic smile.

“Good afternoon Lydia.” Lane’s voice said with a sickening sweetness. “Are you okay? Would you like to take a break before we begin?”

Lydia wiped away an errant tear. “No…it’s ok,” she said in a shaky voice.

“Good.” Again, Lane smiled and, with a voice filled with softness and compassion, she began her questioning. “You said in your earlier testimony that your aunt and uncle took you in after your parent’s died. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Did anyone else want to take you in?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Were there any other people who wanted you to come live with them?”

“Yes.”

“Who would that be?”

“Sam and Margarita.”

“Clayton?”

“Yes.”

“What was your parent’s relationship with them?”

“They were friends.”

“Did you ever visit them?”

“Yes, we used to go to their house or they’d come to ours all the time.”

“Why didn’t you go live with them?”

Lydia’s eyes flashed to her aunt. When she received a positive nod, she said, “Because family takes care of family. The Claytons weren’t family.”

“Did you want to live with your aunt and uncle or the Claytons?”

The young woman fidgeted with a soggy, linty Kleenex. “I belonged with my aunt and uncle.”

“Would you have rather lived with the Claytons?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“You said that your uncle treated you like his daughter and taught you all about ranching. Did he teach you how to ride?”

“No.”

“Who taught you?

“My aunt.”

“I understand she is an accomplished equestrian. Do you have a horse of your own?”

“Yes.”

“Did you buy the horse or did someone buy it for you?”

Lydia frowned slightly. “My uncle took me to a horse auction a few months after I got there and told me I could have anyone I wanted.” Short answers…remember to give only short answers. Lydia reminded herself.

“What kind of horse did you chose?”

“A ten year old mare named Lucy.”

“What color is your horse?”

“Black.”

Lane drew in a deep breath for the next question. She knew she would be playing fast and loose and undoubtedly, the DA would object, but it was necessary. “ Lydia, what cup size is your bra?”

“Your Honor, I object. That question is completely out of the scope of this testimony.”

Before the judge could speak Lane said, “Withdrawn.” She noticed the juror’s eyes fixed on Lydia’s ample breast.

“The jury will disregard the last question. Ms. Cuthbert, I don’t want to warn you again.”

“Yes, your Honor. I’m sorry it won’t happen again.” Lane turned her attention towards the witness. “ Lydia, how close were you and your uncle?”

“He was like a father to me.”

“Isn’t it true that you and your uncle often went out to dinner together without your aunt?”

“Objection, she is leading the witness.”

“I’ll rephrase. Did you and your uncle go out to dinner alone?”

Green eyes darted around the courtroom. “Yes.”

“Where was your aunt?”

“She had other things she was doing.”

“Were you and your uncle intimate?”

“Objection,” the DA shouted.

“Your Honor, the DA opened this line of questioning when he asked about the relationship between Preston Garrett and his niece.”

“Overruled. You may answer the question.”

Lydia seemed to evaporate into the chair as tears cascaded down her cheeks. “He was my uncle,” she said in her smallest little girl voice. The tattered tissue dabbed at her eyes leaving traces of soggy lint behind.

Lane picked up a box of Kleenex and offered Lydia one. “Thank you.”

“Did he molest you?” Lane asked compassionately. She had learned long ago that if you acted as if you were sympathetic to the victim the jury might not hold the harsh questions against her.

From the back of the courtroom Lane heard, “Stop this stop this now! Preston is dead what good is it to air this now?” Marcia Garrett’s eyes cut into Lane with venom.

“Order, order in the court,” Judge Aniline shouted as he hammered his gavel repeatedly. “I will not tolerate any outbursts in my courtroom. Madam, I would suggest you sit down right now!”

Marcia Garrett looked around and seemed genuinely mortified at her outburst. She shook her head, and then moved down the row until she came to the aisle. With a brief look of regret, she exited the courtroom.

“Will you please read back the last question,” the judge asked of the court recorder.

“Ms. Cuthbert – Did he molest you?”

“You must answer the question,” Judge Aniline said to Lydia.

Inconsolable tears flowed down Lydia’s cheeks shaking her body uncontrollably with each sob. “Your Honor,” Lane said with genuine empathy, “can we take a short break so the witness can calm herself?”

Judge Aniline rapped his gavel. “Court is adjourned until two thirty.”

+ + +

“What I told you about my conversation with Lydia regarding her uncle’s abuse was said in confidence. You had no business bringing that up in there,” Bryce shouted pointing towards the court room.”

Lane’s eyes flared as she grabbed Bryce’s arm and spun her around. Going toe to toe with the woman she lowered her voice and said, “I didn’t betray your confidence! Practically everyone I spoke with suspected there was a relationship between them.” Hazel eyes fixed on grey blue and held them. “What part of, you are on trial for murder, don’t you get? I am on your side Bryce.” She tried to release the eye contact but Bryce’s gaze kept her pinned. “I have to question her about this if we are going to have a chance of winning,” she said softly. “It goes to motive and whether anyone else may have wanted to see Garrett dead.”

Clenching her fists, Bryce countered, “You don’t have to be so vicious in your questioning.”

“Yes, I do.” Then Lane took back control and moved towards the window.

Bryce watched her lawyer with a new found respect. Not many had the courage to get in her face but the small woman had done just that on more than one occasion. Her eyes raked over the woman whom she had watched ever since she arrived in town. Lane was exactly the type of woman she dreamt about having a long and loving relationship with, but even if the lawyer was interested in her, it was impossible. People around these parts would never understand or allow me, or her, to live an openly gay lifestyle.Anonymous encounters are all I can ever hope to have. Yet, she is becoming more and more of a temptation. Sitting next to Lane each day in court, had Bryce’s imagination creating numerous scenarios that made the impossible possible. Often she would gaze at the body pacing in front of the jury and visualize lying naked next to her.

“Look, Lane, I’m sorry. Lydia suffered so much at the hands of her uncle when he was alive she shouldn’t have to continue down that path now that he’s dead.”

The lawyer turned and gave her client a curious look. That’s the first time she’s ever called me by my first name. A fragment of excitement tried to make its way to the surface but she squelched it immediately. Lane sighed. “My little voice is telling me that Lydia will deny being molested so it would seem that she is allowing him to control her from the hereafter.”

Creasing her eyebrows, Bryce shook her head. “Tell your little voice it is way off base. What reason would she have to deny anything? The man is dead and no longer a threat to her. Unless…” Bryce’s eyes lit up. “Unless she is protecting someone else.”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know.” Bryce seemed to be contemplating the question. “Maybe someone that is close to her.”

Hazel eyes fixed on the dark haired woman with meaningful contact. Damn, what’s going on with me? Oh yeah, it’s been a while since I had any. Lane shook off the direction her mind wanted to go and focused on Lydia’s testimony. “When Lydia came to the ranch on her horse how did she get through the gate?

Lane furrowed her brow. “She didn’t. There are all sorts of pastures and fences between properties that a horse can pass through.”

“Hmm, so if someone wanted to get onto the ranch by not going through the gate they could?”

“Yeah, if the knew the right paths.”

Lane jotted a quick note on a legal pad then looked up at Bryce. “You know, if she does deny being molested, you will have to sign an affidavit stating what she told you.”

“Sorry can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone and up until now I haven’t. I told you because you needed that information but I will not tell anyone else.”

“Do you understand that your life may well depend on the fact that Preston Garrett molested his niece? I can’t get you acquitted if you won’t trust me by giving me all the information I need to defend you.” Lane’s fair skin colored with the emotion as she resisted the urge to shake the woman into understanding. How can someone so smart not see the importance of this? “Can’t you trust me?”

With new eyes, Bryce looked at Lane and saw the frustration the woman felt. Can I trust her? She shook her head. I can’t take that chance. “I won't break my promise to Lydia?”

“Why? She’s doing her best to see that you go to prison – does that sound like she feels any kind of loyalty towards you?” Lane’s voice filled with annoyance and anger. “I can’t save you if you won’t save yourself!”

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door before it opened. Margarita Clayton stood in the doorway stricken with tears in her eyes.

Bryce walked rapidly towards her mother. “What’s the matter?”

With a shaking hand, she held up a piece of paper. “This.”

Lane knew instantly what it was and said, “Shit!” Moving towards the older woman she grabbed the paper. “I can’t believe this. Did they just serve you?”

Margarita nodded. “Yes, some man came up to me and asked if I was Margarita Clayton and when I said yes he handed me an envelope and said you’ve been served.”

“What’s going on,” Bryce demanded.

“They are going to call your mother as a witness for the state.”

“They can’t do that!”

“Oh yes they can and they did.” Lane took Margarita’s hand and said, “Come over here and sit with me I need to know everything that was said between you and Bryce when she came home.”

+ + +

As Lane sat in the courtroom waiting for the judge to reappear, she wondered why the DA wanted Margarita to testify. From what she told me, the conversation between her and Bryce was innocuous at best. Lydia was with Margarita that morning. Hmm, I wonder… The bailiff ordered all rise and the judge entered the courtroom. After sitting back down, Lane leaned over and whispered to Randall, “Go and find Margarita Clayton and find out everything about the conversation she had with Lydia that morning.” She needed to know if the women’s conversation was the impetus behind Margarita’s summons.

She should have already found that out, Randall thought as he begrudgingly got up. That bitch has no business trying this case. She can’t even get her facts straight. Maybe, just maybe, I will keep some of the information to myself. Ha, see what happens then. What do I care if another Clayton bites the dust? Good riddance to the lot of them, he thought as he pushed through the swinging door.

As the judge called the jury into the courtroom, Lane looked over at Bryce’s decidedly angry face. Gently, she touched the hand resting on the chair’s arm. “I won’t let them harass your mother.” When the grey blue eyes filled with rage turned in her direction, she added, “I promise.”

In a tight, hushed tone, Bryce spat out between gritted teeth, “They can come after me but not my mother.”

Lane didn’t move her hand but increased its pressure. “I know you’re upset and you have every right to be, but you can’t let the jury see that - it will be detrimental.”

“How would you know how I feel? It’s my mother not yours!”

She had to diffuse the anger her client felt. She leaned in closer and whispered the first thing that came to her mind, “Have dinner with me tonight.”

At first, Bryce didn’t know if she heard correctly so she pulled back and looked quizzically at her lawyer. “What?” Her anger began dissipating as she tried to focus on what the lawyer had said.

At that moment, the judge called Lydia back to the witness stand. Before Lane rose to begin her examination of the witness she quickly smiled and said, “You heard me,” then winked. She stood up, straightened her jacket and gazed directly at Lydia. “Are you alright now?

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, before we adjourned I asked if your uncle molested you. Would you please answer the question now?”

A lone tear coursed its way down the young woman’s face. “No,” she said sniffling.

“Ms Peterson, shall I remind you of the penalties for perjury?”

“I’m not lying, he didn’t molest me!” Lydia emphatically stated.

“Did you have a sexual relationship with your uncle?”

“NO!”

“What would your answer be if I told you I had a witness that will swear that you told them your uncle was molesting you?”

“Your Honor she is badgering the witness.”

“Ms. Cuthbert.” Eyes peered over his glasses as the judge gave Lane a stern look.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to answer that question,” the judge said softly to the witness.

Lydia’s eyes lifted and her gaze shifted to Bryce before she spoke in a cold tone. “I’d say it was a lie a big lie so you can try to shift the blame from your client to me. She killed him not me!”

“Your Honor I move to strike.”

“The jury will disregard the outburst by the witness.” His attention turned to Lydia. “Ms Peterson, you were instructed not to answer the question. Please refrain from further statements unless you are directed to answer.”

“Ok,” Lydia said in a small voice.

Lane blew out an exasperated breath. “Is there a way onto the Clayton Ranch by horse that is easily accessible?”

Lydia gazed curiously at the lawyer. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“If you’re riding a horse and don’t want to use the front entrance to the ranch could you get onto the property?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how?”

“Yes.”

Lane shifted her gaze to the jury and raised her eyebrows. “I have no further questions for this witness at this time.” She sat back down and wrote shit in bold letters on her yellow legal pad. Bryce’s hand reached over and wrote, dinner will be great but I won’t testify against Lydia. Lane just shook her head and gave her client a half smile as she heard the bailiff call Margarita Clayton to the stand.

The DA’s first question was, “What is your relationship to the accused?”

“I am her mother,” Margarita answered coldly.

“Do you recall what time your daughter came home on the morning of July fifteenth?”

“No.”

“Mrs. Clayton what time did you tell the sheriff your daughter came home on the morning of July fifteenth?”

“I don’t remember.”

“I would like you to look at exhibit marked A-10, which are the notes that Sheriff Wilkins took regarding his conversation with you on the morning of July fifteenth.” He handed them to Marina. “Maybe this will refresh your memory.”

Lane leaned in and whispered to Bryce, “Depending on how she answers this he may declare her a hostile witness.”

“I don’t recall saying any of this,” Margarita said strongly.

“Your Honor, I would like to have this witness declared adverse.”

“Not so fast Mr. Kunkle, I would like to hear a few more questions,” the judge stated.

Clearly annoyed, Danny Kunkle asked, “Did you see your daughter on the morning of July fifteenth?”

“I see my daughter every morning.” She held up the sheriff’s notes. “I recall speaking with the sheriff but never gave a formal statement.”

“Your Honor,” the DA implored.

“Not yet Mr. Kunkle, I haven’t heard this witness say anything that I would declare as hostile.”

“Mrs. Clayton, will you please tell us what you did say to the sheriff about that morning.”

“I really can’t remember.”

“Perhaps if you look at the notes they will refresh your memory.”

“I have looked at them and can’t recall saying anything like what it there.”

“Will you just read all the notes again? Surely you remember saying something to the sheriff about your daughter.”

Bryce leaned into Lane’s ear, cupped her face with her hand and asked, “Is she going to get in trouble for not answering?”

Lane stood up. “Objection your Honor, the district attorney is harassing the witness. She has said on five separate occasions she does not remember.”

“Sidebar, your Honor.”

Judge Aniline waved the two lawyers forward and covered the microphone. Lane was the first to speak. “Unless the State has a signed statement we have no way of knowing when the sheriff entered those notes or if they are accurate.”

“Your Honor, why would the sheriff write notes that aren’t accurate? These notes are part of his investigation.”

The judge scowled. “Stop wasting my time and move on Mr. Kunkle,” the judge directed as his hand shooed them back to their respective sides.

“I would like this witness to be declared as an adverse witness.”

“Granted.”

Lane slumped slightly in her chair. By being declared adverse, the DA could now ask leading questions and the jury would hear Margarita’s supposed statement whether she said it or not.

“Mrs. Clayton, you told the sheriff that your daughter arrived home around six in the morning. What did she look like at that time?”

“Like she always does.”

“You told the sheriff that she had on jeans a black t shirt under a white shirt is that correct?”

“I don’t recall.”

The questioning of Margarita Clayton went on for the rest of the day with the DA asking leading questions and the witness replying with, I don’t recall. Finally, it was Lane’s turn to cross-examine. “Good afternoon Mrs. Clayton. The hour is late so I will keep it brief.” Lane said smiling.

Margarita nodded and blew out a breath. Lane was sure she had been holding it for the district attorney’s entire line of questioning.

“I only have a few questions for you.”

Margarita smiled. She was relieved that finally she was looking at a friendly face. “Thank you,” she said.

“At any time did the sheriff or the district attorney call you into their offices and ask you questions regarding your daughter’s whereabouts or statements she may have made on the morning of July fifteenth?”

“No,” Margarita said wearily.

“Do you think the sheriff’s notes are an accurate description of what went on between Bryce and yourself on that morning?”

“I don’t recall saying those words.”

“Thank you. That is all I have for this witness.” Lane sat down and saw the district attorney jump up.

“I have a few more questions.”

Margarita shook her head, looked lovingly at her daughter then closed her eyes.

“Mrs. Clayton, are you telling the court that the notes the sheriff made are bogus?”

Black eyes stared menacingly at the man. “I have told you over and over again I do not remember saying those words. I don’t know if the sheriff made them up, you will have to ask him. I don’t recall what was said!”

Margarita’s message for Danny Kunkle was clear – don’t ask me any more questions. It was at that point he had to make a decision. If he continued to question her in the same aggressive manner, the jury could become sympathetic towards her thereby casting him in a poor light or, he could sit down - he sat down. “I have nothing further. Your Honor the state rests.”

“Are you ready with the defense Ms. Cuthbert?”

“Yes your Honor.”

“In light of the late hour, we will resume in the morning,” Judge Aniline said as he rapped his gavel. “Court is adjourned until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

+ + +

“Just what did you think you were doing by inviting her to dinner?” Lane said to the image in the mirror. “She is your client for god’s sake. It’s bad enough that you think she’s hot but to meet with her in private is strictly out of bounds.” She shook her head. “Did that matter to you? Oh, no you just went headlong into the forbidden.”

The day in court hadn’t gone as she expected. Lydia’s steadfast insistence that her uncle hadn’t molested her made her upcoming campaign to discredit Preston Garrett that much harder. Bryce’s mother meant well, but she came off sounding as if she knew something damaging about her daughter and was covering it up. Then, there was the kicker of it all – she invited Bryce to have supper with her.

“What a dumb head,” she said to the romaine lettuce she was chopping. “At least she agreed to have dinner here rather than out in public. “Shit, what have I done?” Picking up the lettuce and placing it in the bowl, she started singing softly. Anticipation, anticipaaaaation is making me wait… “Damn it, now I’m singing. This has to stop! I’m ruining my whole image.”

The doorbell rang and Lane kicked herself the entire time she walked to the door as a bubble of expectation for what the night might bring rippled near the surface. Stupid, stupid, stupid. When she opened the door, she felt as though all the oxygen had left the room. Bryce Clayton stood there looking spectacular. Did I say hot? I meant en fuego. Her hair, no longer pulled back, cascaded down her shoulders in dark waves that barely kissed each breast. Her grey blue eyes danced with amusement and her luscious looking lips beckoned to be kissed. Bryce’s sleeveless tight cut white shirt showed off every curve to perfection. Since first meeting the woman, Lane had been fully aware of how good Bryce looked when her well-muscled body moved. Now, she is standing in my doorway and no one else is around…I’m in big trouble, she thought as she squirmed slightly when she felt her body react. Anticipaaaaation. “Hi,” she finally managed, “come on in.”

“Thanks. I’ve never been in this neighborhood.” Nervously, Bryce fidgeted with the bottle in her hand. “Oh, here I brought this for you.” She shoved the bottle in Lane’s direction as her eyes sought a distant wall. “It’s a Texas wine.”

“I’ve heard about Texas wineries but I’ve never tasted any?”

Bryce focused on the smaller woman, tilted her head and frowned. “That’s right you’re not from around here. There are quite a few actually.” Hell, what do I say next? “If you don’t like it I can bring one from a different winery…hmm, the next time.”

She said next time! Is there going to be a next time?Anticipaaaaation… “I’m sure if you like it must be good.” Lane felt her face do a lame smile and her eyes fluttered slightly. SHIT I’m flirting like a schoolgirl. Anticipaaaaation… Get out of my head stupid song! Color tinged her cheeks.

Bryce rocked back and forth nervously looking at the door as she debated whether to stay or run. I’ll bring some next time. What a stupid thing to say. Eyes searched the woman’s and when she saw no threat she decided to stay. She inhaled deeply, “Hmm, something smells good.”

The comment on the smell of the simmering food made Lane’s face break out into an all out smile. “It’s one of my specialties.”

“Specialties? Are you a serious cook like my mother?”

“Not really.” Lane’s face blushed again. “I only have two chicken and seafood.” She shrugged.

“Well you’re way ahead of me.” Bryce’s boisterous laugh was strangely out of place.

Lane, out of awkwardness more than anything else, chuckled slightly as she walked towards the sun porch. “I thought we could sit out here.” She led the way to a small, but comfortable sun porch off the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind it is the only room that I’ve finished that I feel relaxed in.”

Bryce looked around the room and smiled. “I can see why you like this room,” she said trying to sound casual. She wandered over to the window and peered out taking in the beautifully landscaped yard. “You like yard work?”

Lane laughed self-consciously. “I can’t take the credit for that, the former owners were gardeners.” She watched her guest standing at the window. She is so unlike the woman I’ve seen in the courtroom. “Please make yourself at home. I’ll only be a minute. I need to stir something in the kitchen.”

Bryce looked at her and smiled. “Take your time.” Bryce turned back to the window and watched two squirrels chase each other. Thoughts spun in her mind all revolving around the woman in the other room. She had been watching her from day one and now that she was alone with her in a non-courtroom setting, she felt terrified.

A few minutes later, Lane came back and saw Bryce still standing at the window. “Something interesting out there?”

Bryce turned startled by the question. Damn she looks good enough to…. “Not really. Do you mind living here by yourself?”

“No…I like it for the most part. Of course there are times when I get lonely, but not that often.”

“What do you do with your free time?”

Lane chuckled. “Free time…what is that?” After both women laughed, Lane continued. “I like to draw.” She pointed to several pen and ink framed drawings on the wall.”

Bryce walked to the wall, looked closely at one of the pictures and raised an eyebrow. “This is good, really good.” She shrugged, “makes my doodling kinda lame.” She pointed to one of the pictures. “I like this one.”

“It’s my grandparent’s home out in Galveston,” she said wistfully. “Do you live with your parents because you don’t like living alone Bryce?”

“Actually I prefer the solitary life but…” she sighed, “it hasn’t worked out that way.”

“Why?”

For a moment Bryce looked at the woman as if she had two heads. I don’t share personal stuff she thought then for some inexplicable reasons said, “After I graduated from UT, I came back here to live at my ranch. A day after I arrived home, my mother’s father died and off we all went to Brazil. Two weeks later, we flew back with my grandmother in tow.” Why am I telling her all this? Inwardly, Bryce shook her head then forged ahead. “My mother’s grief over her father’s death and the added responsibility of caring for her mother was palpable although she never complained - I stayed to help. Five years later grandma passed away.” Her voice and face softened. “My mother was a basket case for a very long time…I think in a way she still is.” Her hand went to her face and she rubbed at her eyes. “Its fifteen years later and I’m still living out there.”

Lane instinctively reached out and gently caressed Bryce’s shoulder. The woman had just spoken more words than she had since they first met. “It sounds to me like you are a wonderful caring daughter,” she said softly. “Do you have any plans on ever moving to your ranch?”

“I was in the process of doing that when this mess happened.” She laughed apprehensively. “Guess the gods are trying to tell me not to move.”

“Perhaps.” With her hand still on the woman’s shoulder, she squeezed gently. “Come on, supper is ready.”

The supper conversation was light. “Why do you drive that old truck and not a new…Hummer or something like that?”

Bryce placed her fork on her plate, finished chewing and looked directly at the woman across from her. I can’t ever recall speaking with anyone like this. “I don’t like the trappings or pretenses that being rich, has. It seems to me people get the notion in their heads that if they make a lot of money they need to make sure everyone knows about it. They buy big expensive houses with twenty rooms or luxury cars and show them off so everyone can be impressed. In reality, a nice four bedroom house and a Chevy would meet their needs but, for some reason, if you make a lot of money people feel they need to live up to that image. I just don’t get it.”

“So, the unpretentious life is for you.”

“Yes.” Bryce picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of chicken then put the fork back down. “From all that I’ve read you were on the fast track in Houston…why did you come here? It seems to me to be a step down.”

Lane picked up her glass and took a sip of wine as she eyed the woman across from her. “This wine is excellent,” she said taking another sip. “I have always wanted to live here and be Monty’s partner.”

“Yeah, right.” Bryce let out a sarcastic laugh.

“No, it’s true.”

The serious look on Lane’s face made Bryce realize that the statement indeed was true. She wanted to come here? No way. There has to be more to it than just that. “I must be dense ‘cause I can’t imagine that anyone would voluntarily want to come here.”

How much do I tell her? “I spent every day as an assistant district attorney dealing with the most heinous of people and crimes. After a while, it all got to me and I realized I needed to find something else and Monty looking for a new partner was an answer to my prayers.”

Bryce listened to the words, digested them and concluded that there was much more to the story. “But you said you always wanted to be Monty’s partner.”

“Yeah I did. Years ago, I read a fascinating article about him being the ranchers’ lawyer and that’s what I wanted to be and it stuck.” She raised her arms shoulder high, lifted one shoulder and said, “And, here I am.”

“But, from all accounts you would have been the next DA. Wouldn’t that mean your duties would have been more management orientated?”

Now what do I say? “That’s not for me.” She picked up her fork and focused all her attention on the plate of food. “How do you like the meal?”

“It’s very good.” Bryce put a forkful into her mouth. She got the message - the conversation was over.

Both let out a simultaneous sigh as they finished their meal. “That was delicious. Thank you for inviting me.” Bryce hesitated a moment. “Will you tell me something?”

“Don’t tell me you want the recipe!” Lane said laughingly.

Bryce shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “Why haven’t you ever asked me if I murdered Preston Garrett?”

Lane, surprised by the question let her eyes dart around the room until they finally rested on the grey blue eyes. “My very first case involved a man accused of embezzling three hundred thousand dollars from the company he worked for. In my initial interview, I asked him if he was guilty and he assured me he was not. To make a long story short, the verdict came down as not guilty. As we were leaving the courtroom he whispered to me that he was guilty.” She absently added. “Ever since I don’t ask.”

“Don’t you want to know?”

“No, I never want to know. By assuming clients are innocent, I can defend them vigorously and fully. I don’t think I would do as good a job if I knew they were guilty.” She smiled. “It’s a win, win situation in my mind.”

Bryce pressed her hands together and put them to her mouth as if she were ready to say a prayer. Her eyes held the hazel ones in check. “If I was going to kill someone it would have been a lot more creative.”

“In what way?”

“There are so many subtle ways to murder a person without leaving traces behind. Had I really wanted Preston dead, there would be no way it would be linked back to me.”

Lane listened carefully. “So who hates you so much that they went to all this trouble to frame you?”

She shook her head then mumbled, “Maybe the police should be looking closer to home or better yet just let it be.”

Lane scrunched up her eyebrows while trying to decipher Bryce’s cryptic comment. We’ve already been down the Lydia path, she thought before looking closer at the woman. In Bryce’s voice, Lane detected a hint of a little girl’s voice asking, why is this happening to me. “You know this can be ended right now if you will trust me enough to tell me where you were that night.”

Bryce’s back stiffened as she lowered her eyes. “I can’t do that.”

Exasperated, Lane knew there was no point in perusing the subject. She’s not going to tell me. “Is there a special someone in your life?”

“No.” Bryce scrapped her chair over the tile floor. “I need to get going.”

“But we haven’t had dessert yet.”

“I really need to go.”

To Lane, Bryce seemed like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Please, don’t go.”

Bryce was already at the door when she heard Lane ask her to stay - she wanted nothing more. Why did I have to bring up the trial? “Maybe another time.” She placed her hand on the knob and turned.

Lane watched the door close with her mouth agape. “What just happened?” she reached for the knob and quickly opened the door. “Bryce, please come back,” she called out. But, she found her eyes straining through the dark to get a look at the old truck’s taillights that grew small and distant.

Closing the door behind her, she walked rapidly towards her desk and the yellow legal pad. Picking up a pencil she wrote…had dinner with Bryce… Hey, she thought it's billable hours.

+ + +

The only light illuminating the moonless, pitch-dark night were those of Bryce’s old Ford pickup. She was on the run again, just as she always did when she felt her emotions trying to take control. Lane had been so easy to talk to that she forgot her fears and momentarily let down her guard. She liked the woman, more than liked her and that scared her. She also knew that when people allow their emotions to rule they become careless – she couldn’t allow that to happen.

“You really handled that with your usual aplomb. What a dope head I am.” Bryce rattled off every name in the book as she relived the evening’s conversations. She didn’t know what Lane’s sexual proclivities were but she was certain that the woman was flirting with her. The entire time they were together Bryce could feel the sexual energy flowing between them. As far as she could tell from her investigations, there was not, nor had there ever been a man in the lawyer’s life. Is that why I bolted with the mention of a significant other in my life? Maybe she would have invited me into her bed if I stuck around. Bryce was aware of being aroused and knew that she had been suppressing her desires that had been smoldering from the moment the lawyer had opened the door. Hell maybe from the moment she whispered in my ear or maybe when… Shit!

Trying to get her mind off the increasing need between her legs, Bryce concentrated on the red flags of the evening. One of Lane’s comments had her wondering why, or if, she had been lied to. In all the research she had done about the lawyer, there was no mentioned her being a defense lawyer yet she said she had defended an embezzler. Maybe it was in law school. But, if it wasn’t then why did she make that story up? Another question that was playing in her subconscious was the weak excuse Lane used for why she had left the DA’s office in Houston. She had gone over the footage of the lawyer speaking with the press after she had won a big case involving a drug smuggler and the woman Bryce saw in the video was at ease in front of the camera and seemed to glow with the victory. So why did she really leave Houston and come here?

Questions and more questions filled her mind as she turned into the drive and the hard rubber of the tires came to a stop at the gooseneck pole. She slid her left thumb into the reader and the gates slowly slid open. Lane Cuthbert was still on her mind as she unlocked the door and went inside her parent’s home. No one was awake and she was glad for that…or was she? The need to have her mother embrace her and whisper that it would all be work out by morning was overwhelming. She felt emotionally overloaded and her mind cried out for human contact. Turning on her heel, she quietly opened the door, went back outside and got into her truck. She wouldn’t deny the need that begged for release any longer. Self-gratification would not do, she needed comfort and that was what she would find.

+ + +

Lane sat with a drawing pad on her lap and a pencil in her hand. She was astounded at what she had just drawn. She looked at the drawing of a smiling Bryce Clayton and shook her head. The evening had been interesting to say the least. On one hand, there was something about Bryce made Lane want to take her in her arms and comfort her much as a mother would a frightened child. On the other, there was a definite sexual undertone in the way Bryce looked at her and that had her senses wanting more. Clearly, the woman fascinated her and she wanted more. Once the trial is over she thought as she put the drawing and pencil down and picked up her notes for the trial.

The morning would bring a new day along with the opportunity to present her begin her case. She had participated in enough trials to know that as long as Bryce’s whip loomed over the proceedings her defense was on shaky ground. She would have to find a way to pull out all the stops if she wanted an acquittal. Why can’t she be honest with me and tell me where she was? Resting both of her hands on top of her head, she stared off into the distance and tried to visualize a sequential order to all that she knew.

“If I go on the assumption that Bryce is innocent then I need to figure out who wanted to kill Garrett and make it look like she did it.” She frowned. “Something is not quite right with that scenario.” She cupped her chin with her fingers. “But what that is I’m not exactly sure. “Then there is Lydia. Something is off about her…the person on the stand was nothing like the Lydia that wanted in my bed or the pissed off woman that I rejected. I guess that could just be because she had to testify.” She bit her lip. “Yeah right, I don’t believe for a minute. She certainly was convincing as the distraught niece but I’m sure that was an act for the jury. Why is she protecting her uncle? She has nothing to gain by doing that.” Her hands moved to the notes as her eyes slowly scanned the observations she made during each witnesses initial questioning. Her eyes drifted to the notation about Marcia Garrett’s outburst. Was that an admission? Did she want their dirty little secret to stay hidden? Why? “Guess I should add her to the mix.”

The ringing of the phone brought her out of her musings. “Hello.”

“You keep defending that bitch and you’ll pay with your life,” the voice said.

“Who is this?” she demanded.

“Your life depends on walking away from the trial now.”

In her job as an assistant district attorney, she had her share of threats. “If your point in calling is to scare me it isn’t working.”

The voice turned icy. “If you continue you will die.”

“Bite me,” she said as she hung up the phone. Her mind went quickly over the day’s testimonies as she tried to decipher which testimony was responsible for the call. Lydia’s, she thought as the phone rang again. “Hello.”

“I may just kill you anyway for being so rude.”

She slammed the phone down on the receiver. Lane pressed the caller ID and wrote the number down. She didn’t recognize the area code as one from the area but dialed the number anyway – it was a calling card. Lane scratched her head then rubbed a hand across her face. What to do…what should I do? She doubted seriously that the sheriff would be of any help. Anyway, there’s little he can do without a callback number or…

She removed the receiver and walked quickly to the closet in her office and started pulling out boxes and rummaging through them until she found what she was looking for. In one of her cases in Houston, she had received a series of threatening phone calls and the police gave her a device that would record calls. With practiced patience, she plugged in the device, set it so it would start when she picked up the phone and then waited. She returned the receiver to its cradle and waited. It didn’t take long. Brrring brrring brrring.

Snatching up the handset, she waited a half second until she saw the green light go on. “Hello,” she said holding her breath.

“Why did you hang up on me Lane? That isn’t the way things are done around these parts.” The deadly seriousness of the voice sent a shiver down Lane’s spine.

“What do you want?” she said calmly. She needed the person to threaten her again.

“I told you before didn’t you listen?”

“I won’t stop defending my client.” She took a deep breath “I will make sure she gets acquitted.”

“Then you will die for your foolish actions.”

“You don’t scare me,” she said with a bravado that she really didn’t feel.

“You should be,” the caller said before hanging up.

For a long while, Lane sat with the phone in her hand. Finally, she replaced the handset before going to the kitchen. I need a stiff drink. She poured herself two fingers of scotch and went back to the recording device. Repeatedly she listened to the muffled voice trying to recall where, or if she had heard it before. She was almost certain it was a man, but with all the technology out there today there was no way she could be one hundred percent certain. “With the recording I can contact the sheriff’s office and make a report. I’d better inform Judge Aniline of the threat too.” She stretched and yawned. “I’ll do that tomorrow, bed is calling me now.” She undressed then slid under the covers and closed her eyes. As sleep began to overtake her, scattered thoughts whirled until one, struggling to the forefront, won - Bryce, she thought before falling into a deep sleep.

Part 7

Before the trial proceeded, Lane met with Judge Aniline, Danny Kunkle and Sheriff Wilkins in the judge’s chambers.

Once they had all listened to the recording, the sheriff was the first to speak. “Just someone trying to rile you little lady I wouldn’t take it too seriously.”

“I assure you Sheriff I take threats on my life very seriously.”

“As do I,” Judge Aniline said. “Sheriff you will place a guard on Ms. Cuthbert.”

“Your Honor,” Danny said, “Is that necessary this is probably an isolated incident.”

“And, if Ms. Cuthbert is harmed because you and the sheriff didn’t take this as a serious matter what will you say then Mr. Kunkle?”

“I will place two of my officers on her twenty-four seven,” the sheriff said begrudgingly, before adding, “of course that means that they will be taken away from protecting the community.”

Unimpressed, the judge shook his head disgustedly. “Just get it done. Now, if there isn’t anything else we need to discuss I will see you all in the courtroom.”

Lane was the last to leave the chambers. “Thank you Judge,” she shrugged, “for standing up for me.”

Judge Aniline’s soft brown eyes met hers. “I’ll see you in court Ms. Cuthbert.”

+ + +

Once the jury had entered the courtroom and taken their seats, the judge looked directly at Lane. “Are you ready to present your defense?”

“Yes your Honor. At this time I would like to request that the charges against my client, Bryce Clayton be dropped.”

“Request denied. Call your first witness.”

“I call Dr. Everett Hastings.”

Lane sat down and Bryce nudged her. “Why the delay this morning?”

Lane leaned in closer and whispered, “I’ll tell you later,” as the doctor was being sworn in.

Bryce listened as Lane asked the forensic pathologist questions regarding the whip. She thought back to the night before…

Her body cried out for satisfaction and the tracking device made a drive to Houston out of the question. She knew it was risky to find someone so close to home but the need outweighed sensibility. The bar she chose was dark thereby, to her mindset, ensured some degree of anonymity. For close to an hour she scoped out various women before targeting one that she wanted to take to her truck parked in the farthest, darkest corner of the parking lot. Just as she was about to make her move, her eyes tracked to the television over the bar and saw her lawyer with a microphone shoved in her face saying, I have no further comments. It was then that Bryce realized the folly of her actions and left the bar. Her body craved gratification and ultimately she would be the one to indulge the need.

The night had been late and she yawned just as Lane sat back down after completing her questioning

“It’s not a good idea to let the jury see that you are bored,” Lane scolded.

A look of surprise crossed Bryce’s face. “I’m not bored. I just didn’t sleep very well last night.”

Lane tsked before turning her attention back to the DA and his cross-examination of the forensic expert. She had scored points with his explanation of how Preston Garrett’s neck had been broken because of the fall from the horse and not from the whip.

Danny Kunkle stood up and asked, “Did the whip wrapped around Preston Garrett’s throat facilitate his death?”

Dr. Hastings thought for a moment. “The forensics tell me that the whip was around his neck prior to his dying. That act was not responsible for his broken neck.”

“But it is possible to break a neck with a whip isn’t it doctor?”

The doctor thought for a moment. “Yes I suppose so but the conditions...”

Cutting off the further explanation the DA said, “That’s all I have for this witness.”

Lane stood up. “Redirect your honor.”

“Go ahead Ms. Cuthbert.”

“Do your findings support that the Mr. Garrett’s death resulted from a whip being wrapped around his neck Doctor?”

“No. If someone wrapped the whip around his neck then pulled there wouldn’t be sufficient power behind it to break the neck. Strangulation would have come first.

“Did you find any evidence that occurred?”

“No, clearly the man died as a result of the fall from the horse which broke his neck.”

“Thank you Doctor. I have no more questions for this witness.”

Lane’s next witness was her long time friend and fingerprint expert, Rachel Walley. After swearing in, Lane began her questioning. “ Ms. Walley what is your occupation?”

“I am a fingerprint analyst for the HPD.”

“That’s the Houston police department?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you worked there?”

Before Rachel could answer, Danny Kunkle was back up on his feet. “The state will stipulate that this witness is recognized as an expert in the field of fingerprints.”

Lane recognized the defense attorney’s stipulation was a tactic to prevent the jury from hearing all of Rachel’s qualifications. That didn’t bother her for she knew she would have sufficient opportunities to inject the qualifications during her inquiry.

“ Ms. Walley, in your eighteen years at the HPD how many fingerprints would you say you’ve examined?”

“Literally millions.”

“I would imagine that over the years the techniques of examining fingerprints have changed significantly.”

“Your Honor is there a question?”

Judge Aniline looked at Lane. “I’ll rephrase your Honor,” Lane said then smiled at her long time friend. “ Ms. Walley, did you examine the fingerprints on the whip marked as P-3?”

“Yes.”

“And what were your findings?”

“The fingerprints belong to Bryce Clayton.”

Bryce sat stoically as a collective gasp went around the courtroom. Danny Kunkle couldn’t suppress his smile. She’s proving my case. Bet she’s gonna have a cow over this.

“ Ms. Walley, the prosecution’s fingerprint expert said that transferring fingerprints without leaving some telltale trace would be difficult if not impossible to do. Do you agree with that?

“No. I’ve seen several cases recently where fingerprints were transferred onto objects without any telltale signs of the transfer.”

“The whip in question belongs to Bryce Clayton would you expect to find her fingerprints on it?”

“Yes.”

“If someone wore gloves and used the whip what would happen to the prints?”

“There might be some smudging of the prints but if held properly the wearing of tight fitting gloves shouldn’t affect the prints at all.”

“Is there any way of telling if someone, other than Bryce Clayton, wearing gloves used the whip?”

“No there isn’t.”

Lane looked at her notes. Satisfied that she had covered everything she said, “I have no further questions of this witness at this time.”

The district attorney rose rapidly to his feet. “ Ms. Walley, did you find any evidence that would indicate that anyone other than the defendant used the whip?”

Rachel shot Lane an apologetic look. “No.”

“Isn’t it true that transferring fingerprints to the surface of a whip is much more difficult than transferring them to a smoother surfaced object?”

In resignation, Rachel answered, “Yes.”

“I have no further questions.”

The judge rapped his gavel. “Court is adjourned until one thirty.”

After the courtroom had cleared, Lane remained at the defendant’s table next to Bryce. For every point she made that morning, the district attorney found a way to turn it to his advantage. How can I undo Bryce’s fingerprints? She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “That damn whip is killing us,” she said exasperatedly. “You understand don’t you, that your freedom is on the line here.”

Bryce nodded, her silence damning her.

Lane put her hand on top of Bryce’s larger one. “If we are going to win we need your alibi.”

Bryce avoided looking at her attorney focusing her attention instead on the hand resting on hers. As much she as craved a meaningful relationship, she knew she was alone just as she had been most of her life. If I admit, where I was and what I was doing, not only will I humiliate my family but I will incriminate myself further. If I stay silent, I risk the distinct possibility of going to jail. She made a decision. Family takes precedence. “I can’t do that.”

Lane moved her hand, reached out impulsively, turned Bryce towards her and put both of her hands on the woman’s cheeks. She looked directly into the grey blue eyes and said, “I don’t want to see you go to jail for a crime you didn’t commit.”

Bryce was unprepared for the unsettling feelings that the warm hands on her face created – that is unacceptable. She reached up, dislodged the hands and glared at the lawyer. “How do you know that? You haven’t bothered to ask me if I did it or not.”

“I don’t need to ask because I already know,” Lane replied softly. “Please Bryce, save yourself.”

The sound of Bryce’s chair scrapping against the wooden floor reverberated throughout the empty courtroom. “I am paying you a truck load of money to see that I don’t go to jail. I’d suggest you work harder to earn that money.” She turned her back on the lawyer and stormed out of the courtroom.

+ + +

Lane sat slumped in a leather burgundy chair in her office. Peering outside, she could see a gaggle of news trucks and reporters. Bryce’s trial was big news, which was exactly what she had hoped for when she took the partnership with Monty. Court TV, CNN, FOX and MSNBC had all contacted her for extensive on screen interviews once the trial was over. She had already carried out several interviews with Nancy Grace and Greta Van Susteren questioned her daily. Now it’s only a matter of time before my master plan comes to fruition.Isn’t that what I’ve worked so hard to obtain? Why am I so unhappy?

Bryce had been right – I’m being paid handsomely to defend her. With the way the case was preceding, there was a seventy-thirty chance of Bryce’s conviction. If only Bryce would trust me with her alibi.

A soft knock turned her attention to the door. “Come in,” Lane barked.

Slowly, the door opened and Rachel poked her head tentatively into the room. “Is this a bad time?”

Lane gave a half smile and shook her head. “No, come on in,” she said getting up from her chair and going around her desk.

“Nice digs.” Rachel’s eye scanned the room. “You’ve moved up kid.” When she finally let her gaze rest on her friend she said, “Rough one isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more of a help. I was thinking that you could recall me and I could show the jury just how easy it can be to transfer prints.”

Wiping a hand across her face, Lane sighed heavily. “Thanks, but I think at this point that would look like a desperation move.”

“Have you considered that she may be guilty?”

Lane returned her stare to the window and the news crews standing outside their trucks eating sandwiches. “I think someone has gone to great lengths to set her up. The only real evidence against her is the damn fingerprints…all the rest is conjecture.”

“Does she have an alibi?”

The lawyer shrugged. “None that she cares to tell me about.”

Rachel held up a bag. “I brought some wraps. We can share just like the old days.”

For the first time that day, Lane’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “I’d like that.”

“Good, then you can tell me all about your love life.”

Lane shook her head and laughed. “What love life?”

“You mean to tell me you haven’t found anyone of interest in this town?” Laughing, Rachel punched her friend’s arm softly. “Now, that doesn’t sound like the Lane I knew. You always had a knack of finding loads of sexy women.”

“Oh, there are plenty of those around here…its just…”

Rachel’s eyes lit up. “Your client isn’t too shabby in the looks department.”

Lane’s face reddened. “She’s off limits.”

Cocking her head Rachel winked. “But…”

Lane, smiling and shaking her head as she bit into her wrap said, “But nothing Rach, she’s off limits.”

+ + +

The first witness for the afternoon session was Harvey Hackly a crime scene investigator. Once again, the prosecution stipulated that her witness was an expert in their field, which didn’t make Lane happy. She wanted to stretch the case out as long as possible in hopes that Bryce would come around with her alibi.

“ Mr. Hackly, did you go over the crime scene photos?”

“Yes I did.”

“What, if any, conclusions did you make?”

The man pointed the photo of the tracks that where attributed to the victim. “You see here there is clear evidence that the horse was brought to a sudden halt. What is puzzling about that is the rider must have pulled back on the reigns to stop the horse to make those types of marks in the ground.”

“The prosecutions witness said that horse came to a halt as a result of the whip wrapped around the victim’s neck. Do you agree with that finding?”

"No."

“Why?”

“If that scenario were correct then the tracks would be different. The marks made by the victim’s horse tell a different story.”

“In what way?”

“The man stopped his horse before he fell off. If the whip wrapped around his neck and he was jerked off the horse there wouldn’t be sufficient time for him to pull back on the reigns to achieve the marks that are in the photo.”

“ Mr. Hinkle, what sort of marks would you have expected if the prosecutions theory is correct?”

“The horse’s prints would have continued without stopping.”

“No further question.” Lane sat down hoping Danny would have more than a few questions. Her wish came true. He had questions, numerous questions that lasted for the next hour. Not once was the DA able to get the witness to vary from his conclusions. Score one for our side Lane thought as the questioning finally ended.

Later that afternoon, Lane called a local rancher, Jimmy Robson whose property sat adjacent to the Garrett ranch.

“ Mr. Robson how well did you know the victim?”

“Me and Pres grew up together.”

“Did you like him?”

“He was mean and ornery as a kid and stayed the same once he became a man.”

“Did you have any run-ins with him?”

“All the time.”

“Why is that?”

“Well you see I have water on my place and he didn’t…well he did up until his brother sold that land to Bryce. After that he had to dig wells and put up windmills.”

“What were the run-ins about?”

“He thought the water should be shared so he’d have his hands cut the fences so his cattle could drink my water. I told him to just dig more wells and stop cutting my fence.”

“Was he angry?”

“Was he ever! I thought he was gonna bust a gut every time. He was the type to get right up in your face and threaten you. He didn’t care if he was in the wrong only that he got his way.”

“Did you ever fear for your life?”

“Yeah, there was one time I thought for sure he was gonna kill me…”

Throughout the afternoon, Jimmy Robson related tales of Preston Garrett’s intimidation and threats.

When Danny Kunkle questioned the witness he asked, “Although Mr. Garrett threatened you verbally you never really felt in danger did you Mr. Robson?”

“There was no doubt in my mind he meant every word,” the witness replied decisively.

The DA continued at length to ask the same question from varying angles and approaches. For each repeated question, Lane would object to the DA’s harassing of the witness and each time Judge Aniline would admonish him. Finally, realizing it was an argument he would not win Danny petulantly said, “No further questions.”

A collective sigh of relief rolled around the courtroom when the judge rapped his gavel and said, “The hour is late. We will resume in the morning.” He bangeded his gavel again. “Court is adjourned until nine o’clock tomorrow.”

+ + +

Lane paced her office floor as she waited for Bryce to arrive. Once the judge had ended the afternoon session, Lane grabbed her client’s arm before she could get away. “My office NOW,” was all she said before she let go. That had been fifteen minutes earlier and Lane was growing impatient.

Bryce stood outside the closed door of her lawyer’s office, raised her fist then lowered it. She was hesitant to meet with Lane for she was certain she would again implore her to give up her alibi. She took a deep breath and rapped lightly. When she heard come in, she opened the door slowly, went inside closing the door behind her.

Lane, by the window with her arms crossed looked at her client ensconced by the closed door. “Glad you could make it,” she said coolly.

“I’m here, what do you want.”

Motioning towards an empty chair Lane said, “Please have a seat.”

“You sound serious what’s up?” Bryce asked from her sitting position.

Lane looked at her client’s peevish expression and once again realized that in spite of her business shrewdness, Bryce was childlike in many ways. Her persona was complete with the false bravado that allowed her to think that the world revolved only around her and that she was impervious to everything. What a shame. “You’re the math whiz, what do you think your chances are for acquittal?”

Bryce shrugged and pursed her lips. “Doesn’t really matter what I think ‘cause you are being paid to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Lane refused to be sucked into her client’s reasoning. “How would you feel if you went to jail?”

Bryce shook her head then looked directly at her lawyer. “You gonna let that happen?”

“You didn’t like spending one night in jail how do you think you’ll like it for the rest of your life?”

“It won’t be so bad. Manslaughter seems to be the way this will go so I figure I’d get a max of twenty-five years and with good behavior I would be out in say ten maybe less.” She chuckled. “Besides, I’ll get three squares a day.”

“This isn’t a joke Bryce. If you go to jail, they will eat you alive.”

Bryce lowered her head and rubbed a hand across her face. “Don’t you think I know that?” she whispered.

“Then save yourself and tell me where you were that night.”

With her head still bowed, Bryce stood up. “I can’t do that.”

“Do you think that your family isn’t already embarrassed by your being accused of murder? Is what you’re hiding any worse to them than seeing their daughter in jail?”

Bryce raised her head and Lane could see fear, confusion and sorrow. She’s such a child. No sooner had she formed that thought, than she quickly moved towards her client and wrapped her arms tightly her shoulders. “Why.”

Bryce struggled to get away but Lane held on even tighter. “Let me go.”

“No I won’t let you go,” Lane said softly. “You are not alone Bryce. I am with you all the way. There is nothing you can tell me that will shock me or make me turn away.”

Bryce melted into her lawyer. The strong arms wrapped around her made her feel safe and genuinely cared for. Other than her parents, no one else had ever made her feel like that. As hard, as she tried, Bryce couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

When she felt the moisture on her shoulder, Lane pulled back slightly. “Let me help you,” she whispered before pulling Bryce closer again. She began stroking the black hair much as a mother would to comfort her child.

“I don’t want to go to jail,” Bryce said between sobs.

“Then tell me so I can help you.”

This time, when Bryce tried to get free, Lane let her go. The space between them remained close as hazel and grey blue eyes searched each other for any sign of deception. Then Bryce took a step back and spoke in a hushed whisper, “I was at a lesbian sex bar in Houston.”

Lane closed her eyes in concentration then spoke. “The one on Westheimer?”

“Yes.”

Lane finally understood why Bryce didn’t have an alibi. Shit we’re screwed. Women went to that bar for one reason – anonymous sex. Names were never a requirement and few, if any, could identify the person they paired up with for the night. When she was with the DA’s office in Houston, she had several cases that involved that particular hangout. She looked at her client and the stricken look had her moving closer to wrap her arms around her once more. “You are not alone in this anymore Bryce.”

For a reason that she couldn’t quite understand, Bryce wrapped her arms around the lawyer - it was instinctive and right. She breathed in deeply and, for the first time since the nightmare began, relaxed.

Lane let go, looked at Bryce and smiled. “Let’s see if we can use the information to our advantage. She motioned for her client to sit down then sat next to her. “What time did you leave Houston to come home?”

Finally, that secret is out in the open. A sigh of relief came from Bryce. “I don’t know around one or two.”

“Did you stop for gas or go to an ATM or anything like that?”

“Afraid not.”

“Where did you and the person you picked up go?”

“A little hotel down the street.”

“Did you use your credit card to pay for the room?”

“I always use cash when I go there.”

Lane realized that the line of questioning was getting them nowhere. Bryce clearly wanted to cover her tracks.I can send a detective there to ask if anyone saw her but that’s a long shot. From what she knew about the bar, anonymity was the policy so the lights were low and the bartenders and owners diligently practiced not remembering anyone. Shit.

“Did you go straight home?”

“No, I stopped at St. Michaels.”

Curious. “Why?”

“To confess my sins.”

“Then where did you go?”

“Drove back here.”

“Did you go straight home?”

“No. I needed to think.”

“About what?”

Bryce shrugged. “About things…about everything that was happening in my life,” she said softly.

“Where did you go?”

“There is a secluded spot near the water on those damn hundred acres. I like to go there ‘cause its quiet.”

Oh SHIT, Lane thought. “Did you see anyone there?”

“I thought I saw Preston riding his horse.”

This can’t be happening. “Was it?”

“I thought he was going to cut the fence again and I wanted to stop him.”

“Did this person see you?”

“No, I’m sure they didn’t ‘cause there is plenty of scrub and a few cedars around that part.”

Lane rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. Why did I insist on finding this out? Damn it. “Was it Preston that you saw?”

“I don’t think so. The person was smaller.”

“Can you describe the horse?”

Bryce’s grey blue eyes seemed to disappear under the lids. “It was black.”

Lane sat with her pencil tapping her cheek. “So you probably saw the murderer leaving the scene.”

“That’s what I figure.”

The lawyer shook her head and blew out a breath. “Unfortunately, this puts you near the scene around the time of the murder. I don’t think this will do us any good.” She thought for a few minutes more. “Are you sure you didn’t recognize the rider?”

“No.”

“What about your first impression? You said you thought it was Preston. What made you change your mind?”

Bryce appeared to be attempting to recapture the moment as she closed her eyes. “I saw something out of the corner of my eye then stood up to see what it was. I knew that Preston liked to ride early in the morning. Me and some of the other ranchers figured that’s when he cuts the fences.” She opened her eyes and looked at her lawyer. “I was tired of him doing that and I wanted to stop him.”

“How,” Lane asked softly. Do I really want to know the answer to this?

“I don’t know…I guess I was going to tell him that I caught him doin’ it.”

“Then what happened?”

“As I moved through the brush I took a closer look and realized it wasn’t Preston but someone else.”

“What made you think it was someone else?”

“Size mainly. Preston was a big man and the person was much smaller.”

“So who did you think it was?”

She closed her eyes tight as if she were willing the memory to come alive. “Before I could get a good look, the rider and horse turned north.”

“Can you describe the rider?”

Bryce shook her head. “No, it was just getting light and the horse and rider were all black as if they were one.”

“Was it a man or a woman?”

The picture of the rider on the horse filled her mind’s eye. “No, sorry it is just one black vision. That is why I can’t understand how Hector Gomez could say it was a woman…the lighting was really bad.”

“But you’re certain it wasn’t Preston?”

“Positive.”

“What is to the north of there?”

“The Garrett Ranch and a few other smaller places.”

“Did you see Hector Gomez?”

“No, but as I was arriving I did see the taillights of a vehicle going north.” Bryce studied the face of her lawyer who was deep in thought. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you with this before,” she said with practiced remorse.

Lane’s eyes searched Bryce’s for any sign of deception and she saw none. “I don’t think it would have made a difference Bryce. All you would have done was to corroborate Gomez’s story and put yourself at the scene. Our biggest problem is the whip with your fingerprints on it.” Lane shook her head. “That is the problem that we face…how to figure out how someone got into the tack room got your whip, used it then put it back without being seen and without disturbing your fingerprints.” Lane blew out another breath. “That is enough for now. What do you say we get a bite to eat at the Blue Bonnet?”

“Won’t all the news people be there?”

Lane answered, “Yeah they will be.”

“Why don’t you come home with me? My mom always makes too much and I know my folks would like to see you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I’d like that.”

+ + +

Lane tossed and turned for what seemed like hours until she finally got up. To her surprise, it was only one in the morning but it really didn’t matter for she knew she wouldn’t sleep. Bryce’s revelations about the day of the killing kept invading her mind as she tried to figure out what to do next. She had five more witnesses that she knew would vilify Preston Garrett as a man akin to the devil. She needed more and was certain that somewhere in Bryce’s escapades was the answer. But where? That was the provocative question keeping her awake and would do so until she found the answers. She threw the covers aside, sat up, slid her feet into her old worn slippers and shuffled to the kitchen. Coffee, it’s going to be a long night.

For an hour, she just sat in a chair drinking her coffee while looking at the sum of the case strewn on her living room floor. She tried to recreate the murder by mentally adding up everything she knew about it. Somehow, Bryce’s whip wrapped Preston Garrett’s throat shortly before his death. Her crime scene investigator claimed that Garrett’s horse came to a rapid stop. Getting up from the chair, she bent down and picked up the pictures of the crime scene. She hoped something would miraculously jump out at her - nothing did. Sorting through the photos again, she came to one of the crime scene taken from the road. A month before the murder the area underwent clearing and she didn’t see where someone might have hidden and surprised Garrett. So why did he come to a sudden stop and, why didn’t the other horse do the same? The only conclusion was that the other rider was at a stand still perhaps laying in wait for Preston to arrive. But why and where?

“ Bryce all but confirmed that Hector Gomez was there and did see the rider. It then makes sense that his assessment that it was a woman on the horse was correct.” Lane paced as she conversed with the room. “The woman was there waiting for him that is why he came to a sudden stop. So who was she? His wife, niece or some other female like…Bryce.” The thought that it might be her client was oddly upsetting to her. “What happened then? They had an argument and the woman took the whip and wrapped it around the man’s neck, he struggled to get free, somehow lost his balance and fell off the horse.” Her pacing took her into the kitchen and the coffeepot. “If that scenario is correct then the woman would have to be very strong to jerk the whip and hold it in place until he fell off the horse.” She took a long sip then set the cup down on the counter. “Shit, it all comes back to that damn whip. How could someone take it from the ranch, use it then put it back without anyone seeing them?”

Her mind flashed to something the sheriff said. Walking quickly to the living room, she sat on the floor and rapidly sorted through her notes. “Yes!” Like an athlete that had just won a race, she held the paper up in triumph. Her eyes darted over the page until she found the passage she wanted. She had asked the sheriff, how do you know someone didn’t take the whip from the Clayton Ranch, use it then put it back? His response was, you’ve been out there Ms.Cuthbert did you see any way for someone to sneak onto that ranch? An eight foot fence with razor wire surrounds it. The gate is state of the art and using either thumb prints or a command from the house to open. Tapping the paper against her leg, she thought about the tesitimony. “Therefore whoever used the whip was someone who had easy access to the ranch.” That thought brought her back to the one name she didn’t want to think of – Bryce. “Shit, it can’t be her…it just can’t. I know I’m missing something.”

She looked at the clock on the mantle. It was after four and court would be back in session in less than five hours. A yawn overtook her mouth and she stretched in response to it. She stood up, trundled back to her bedroom, set the alarm for seven and crawled between the cool sheets. “I’ll just sleep for a little bit maybe then things will be clearer.” In less than a minute sleep had claimed her but her mind continued to whirl in a kaleidoscope of scenarios.

+ + +

Lane robotically questioned her witnesses as each one related story after story of Preston Garrett’s maniacal disposition. When the district attorney questioned her witnesses, Lane would half listen as she wrote repeatedly on a yellow legal pad the words motive, opportunity and WHIP. After listening to her witnesses the motive part was easy – the man was truly evil. Any of the people that took the stand to vilify Preston Garrett could have killed him. Most knew of his habit of early morning rides therefore, in reality, every single rancher that attended the ritual morning breakfast had the potential of being a suspect. That still left the biggest obstacle – the whip. If I’m going to get Bryce acquitted I need to determine who hates not only Preston but Bryce too.

The sound of the gavel striking brought Lane back to the courtroom. “All rise,” announced the bailiff as the judge left the courtroom for lunch recess. Lane turned around and saw Margarita Clayton speaking with her daughter. “ Mrs. Clayton,” she called out. When the older woman looked in her direction, she motioned her over. “Listen, I have some questions I need to ask you. Do you think you could come to my office now? I can have sandwiches delivered.”

Margarita smiled a sweet motherly smile. “Of course I can dear.”

She turned her attention to her client, “Will you join us?”

If her doodling is any indication, I know what the topic up for discussion will be. “Sure thing.”

+ + +

Lane sat at her desk waiting for Bryce and her mother to appear. She needed to go over Margarita’s recollections of the morning Bryce came home again. Something was there that she was missing. When she saw, Bryce craning her neck around the partially opened door she smiled. “Ah, good you’re here.” Once both women were in the room she motioned to a small table that held sandwiches and drinks. “Please help yourselves.” She waited until each woman sat before she started asking her questions.

“Mrs. Clayton, when Bryce came home that morning where her boots dusty or muddy or anything like that?”

Margarita furled her brow. “She didn’t have boots on.”

“Is it possible she had boots and left them in her truck?”

A smiled filled her face. “Obviously you have never been in my daughter’s truck. She is what they call a neat freak. Everything has to be just so for Bryce I doubt seriously that she would have boots lying around in her truck.” She looked fondly at her daughter. “She wouldn’t have been able to stand it.”

“When Bryce left the ranch with her father to go to breakfast did they go together?”

“No, they each took their own trucks.”

“Why did you do that Bryce?”

“I needed to take care of some business.” Bryce shook her head in agitation and fear. “Look we’ve been over this a thousand times do we really need to go there again.” The last thing I want coming out is where I was that night.

“Yes, we do.” Lane, realizing Bryce’s fears shot her a look of assurance. “What business did you have to take care of?”

“I needed to go to confession.”

It was Lane’s turn to furrow her brow. I thought she said she went to confession in Houston. Why did she go a second time? “I understand that the ranch has a sophisticated security system at the gate. How many people use thumbprints to enter?”

“Only the immediate family and the foreman all the rest have to call to have the gate opened from the house,” Bryce answered.

“ Mrs. Clayton, when Lydia arrived I assume that someone let her in.”

“I did.”

“How long did it take for her to get to the house?”

“Only a minute or two.”

“Is there any chance she may have gone to the tack room before she came into the house?”

“No, after I opened the gate I went out on the front porch just like I always do and waited for her to arrive. We went right into the house after that.”

“Was there anyone else with her in the car?”

“It was a truck and no, I didn’t see anyone.”

“Is it possible someone could have been hiding in the truck bed and you didn’t see them?”

“No, the back is covered…you know, the kind that have locks.”

“Yeah, I know the ones. How long did Lydia stay?”

“Let’s see now, she got there around eight thirty and left I’d say close to eleven.”

“Was there any time that she excused herself to go outside?”

“We were together the entire time.”

“Did you see her leave or did she go to her truck alone?”

“We hugged goodbye on the porch and then I watched her get in her truck and leave.”

“Who opened the gate to let her out?”

“There’s an automatic sensor that opens the gate when people leave,” Bryce said.

Lane brought a can to her mouth, took a sip then asked, “When I came out to the ranch and drove up to the house your dog barked. Does she bark every time someone arrives?”

Margarita laughed heartily. “Bella only barks when a stranger arrives.”

“So she didn’t bark when Lydia came?”

“No.” Margarita looked at the lawyer curiously. “You’re not trying to say Lydia had anything to do with this are you?”

“I’m just exploring all the possibilities Mrs. Clayton.”

“Lydia is a good girl who has been through much in her life…she would never do such a thing,” Margarita said with resolve.

Lane scratched her cheek, closed her eyes then lifted her chin slightly. Sighing she said, “I’m trying to find out who murdered the man so your daughter won’t go to jail. I must look at everyone and everything if I am to do that.”

Margarita reached over and patted Lane’s knee. “I know dear. It’s just that Lydia is very special to me.”

Lane stretched slightly. Is the girl more important to her than Bryce is? I’ve seen the way she dotes on her daughter…she’d give up Lydia in a flash if she had to. “Do you remember what time did your husband arrive home Mrs. Clayton?”

“Around noon I think.”

“Who else was at the ranch that morning?”

“Just me.”

“No hands?”

“Oh no, Sam insists that everyone have Sunday off.”

“How many know of that policy?”

Margarita shrugged. “Everyone. When my husband decided it would be in the best interest of his employees and the ranch there was a big uproar among the other rancher’s workers.”

A thought popped into Lane’s mind. “When the hands come to work isn’t it a chore to open the gate from the house for each one?”

“I don’t do that. The gate is open at that time and the foreman has a man posted there.”

“What about for the everyday comings and goings of your employees, is the gate open then?”

“Yes, but someone is always at the gate during the day.”

Lane realized the line of questioning wasn’t going to answer how someone got on the ranch to take the whip. “Bryce, how many people know about your whip and where you keep it?”

Bryce pursed her lip and partially closed her eyes. “Just about everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Yeah, I used to do demonstrations at the county fair and at rodeos.”

“She became quite well known for her abilities,” Margarita said proudly. “Until she decided to stop that is.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I grew tired of doing it.”

Lane smiled inwardly. She couldn’t picture Bryce in the middle of an arena showing off. Somehow, that doesn’t seem like her style. “When did you last use your whip?”

Bryce thought for a minute. “I’d been out in the panhandle for about four months before all this happened so I’d guess maybe six months ago.”

This line of questioning got me nowhere, Lane thought. “Can either of you think of anyone who might hold a grudge against your family or Bryce?”

The question hung over the room for several minutes before Margarita finally spoke. “The sheriff.”

“What about Roger Whitaker, Stan Greenly, Fred Lester, Marcia Garrett, Hector Gomez, or Lydia Peterson?” Lane named all the ranch owners that shared borders with the Garrett ranch along with the significant people living on the ranches.

This time Bryce answered. “The only one we ever had trouble with was Preston.”

Lane looked at the clock. “Thank you both for coming in and answering my questions. It is almost time to get back to court.” Well this has been a big waste of time.

Margarita stood up and her deep brown eyes fixed on Lane. “She didn’t do it.”

Lane too stood up and faced the older woman. “I know and we will solve the mystery of who did kill Preston Garrett.” The words rang hollow in her ears. That damn whip! There doesn’t seem to be any way around it and that means Bryce, in all likelihood, has a jail term ahead of her. “Did you both get enough to eat?”

In true mother fashion, Margarita picked up a sandwich from the tray. “Here, eat your mind will work better if you have food.”

Lane laughed and took the sandwich. “I’ll eat on the way. We need to go or we will be late.”

Part Eight

Lane knew she was in trouble - losing the case was a distinct possibility. She had made the sheriff look like a buffoon interested in revenge rather than justice and her forensic pathologist presented a very convincing case for the fall rather than the whip causing Preston Garrett’s death. Even her fingerprint expert raised reasonable doubt issues as to who murdered the man. Then there’s the damn whip with Bryce’s fingerprints. She could call expert upon expert to dispel the prosecutions case but, at then end of the day, it would come down to the whip. The one that Bryce’s grandfather made for her, the one she held as a prize possession and the one with Preston Garrett’s DNA.

While she waited in the courtroom for the judge to appear, Lane shuffled her papers then stopped to look at Bryce. Her client’s face was tense yet focused and something else that Lane hadn’t seen before - apprehension. “Want to talk about it?” Lane asked gently as she gave into the urge to touch Bryce’s arm.

Grey blue eyes focused on Lane. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever is going on in that head making you look like a kid who has been sent to the principal’s office.”

“I was wondering if I should take the stand and tell what I saw out there that morning.”

Lane pulled at her lower lip. “You know what that means don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you prepared for what will happen if you do that?”

Bryce didn’t have a chance to answer as the bailiff announced, “All rise, court is now in session the honorable Anthony Aniline presiding.”

“Before I call the jury in I have a few matters to discuss with the lawyers.” When he saw the lawyers look in his direction, he motioned them forward. “Ms. Cuthbert, you have two more witnesses do you expect to wrap that up today?”

“I have several witnesses I’d like to recall.”

“When do you think you will be ready for summation?”

“By Tuesday your Honor.”

“Mr. Kunkle will you be ready for closing on Tuesday?”

“Yes your Honor.”

The judge shooed the two lawyers away then turned his attention to the bailiff. “Bring the jury in.”

Lane gave herself a high five. Great I have the weekend and a day to prepare and maybe we can find new evidence that will clear Bryce. If I stretch my witness’ testimony out as far as I can then perhaps we’ll get an additional day or two. She would call her last witness before recalling Hector Gomez, Lydia Peterson and Margarita Clayton.

“Call your witness Ms. Cuthbert.”

Richard Collins took the stand and sat in a relaxed manner while he waited for questioning. He was a distinguished looking man in his mid sixties who owned the local mercantile with plenty to say about Preston Garrett and the way he treated people. Randall had done the interview and although he had nothing remarkable to say, he could attest to how Garrett treated him and others in the man’s store. Midway through his testimony the store owner said something so startling that Lane found herself at a lost for words. Her father’s words, never allow yourself to let a witness’ testimony surprise you, echoed in her head. Why didn’t Randall tell me about this?

“Would you please repeat that Mr. Collins?”

“I said, every time that man came into my store with his niece he had his hands all over her.”

“He did that in front of you?”

“No,” he said shaking his head. “You see I have those mirrors so I can see who’s doin’ what in my store. At first I reckon he didn’t think I seen him but I did.”

“What did you see?”

Danny Kunkle was on his feet. “Objection, your Honor I don’t see what the victim did or didn’t do in Mr. Collins’ store has anything to do with this case.”

“It goes to motive your Honor. The state only looked at one person in the death of Mr. Garrett I am merely exploring other avenues.”

“Overruled.” He turned towards the witness who was looking at him expectantly. “You may answer the question.”

“His hands were always rubbin’ her backside or he was standin’ so close to the child that there wasn’t any room between ‘em. He’d be there grindin’ against her like he was fixin’ to get it off if you know what I mean.”

“How did his niece react?”

“She’d try to move away but he just kapt on doin’ what he wanted.”

“You said at first you didn’t think he knew you could see them but then you said he knew. What do you mean by that?”

“I’d see him lookin’ up and smilin’. I half expected him to wave or somethin’ like that. One time he walked by me and said you git a good look Dick. That’s what he always called me. I’d tell him don’t call me that but he didn’t care he just kept taunting me no matter who was around. He even did it one day in front of my grandson. He was a mean son-of-a-bitch and killin’ him was a service to this town.”

An audible gasp saturated the air of the courtroom as Lane’s eyes opened wide.

The district attorney wasted no time in objecting. “I object.”

“Sustained. The jury will disregard that last statement. Mr. Collins, please keep your answers to the questions asked.”

Lane couldn’t believe her good fortune. I’ve never seen a jury yet that totally disregarded comments made by witnesses or lawyers. Richard Collins’ comment made her case for a rush to judgment that much stronger. Someone other than Bryce wanted to see the man dead. In order to undo the damage to his case made by the comment, Danny Kunkle will have to question the witness at great length. A win win in my book. Lydia's uncle molested her and now I have an eyewitness. This day is looking better and better.

With her listening skills honed to the point where she could pick up on significant points without her full concentration, Bryce listened to Richard Collins testimony with disinterest. Her ears perked up when the man gave his account of Preston Garrett’s taunting him in front of his grandson. Her brow creased and her eyes narrowed. That sounds familiar. Her face scrunched as a memory tried to surface but it was gone when Lane sat down and squeezed her hand.

Buoyed by the an unexpected lift her case got, Lane sat back down at the table and unconsciously reached over and squeezed Bryce’s hand. Once she realized what she had done, she glanced sideways at the woman and saw a small, satisfied smile on the beautiful face. She leaned over and whispered, “You should smile more often.”

+ + +

Lane sat in her office going over the day’s events in court. Although Collins’ testimony was something that she could use to create reasonable doubt there was still the sticky issue of the whip. It’s always about that damn whip. She rubbed her eyes. It was almost midnight and she had been running on empty since the morning. Luckily, Margarita Clayton had been looking out for her when she made her eat lunch otherwise she doubted she would have had the energy to drive home.

A thought floated up from her subconscious as the words of one of her law professors, the name now long forgotten, surfaced. There comes a time in every trial that you have a choice of winning or losing. The lawyer who takes control and makes the trial theirs wins. She pursed her lips and blew out a cleansing breath, My time has come and it is up to me whether I control Bryce’s destiny or watch her being lead away in handcuffs. I need to find a way to take control. Another thought, which she couldn’t quite grasp, kept trying to bubble up but refused to become clear. I need a good night’s sleep then I will tackle the next phase of the trial and all the disjointed thoughts rattling around in my head. She stretched and yawned before turning out the office lights and heading for her car, home and much needed sleep.

+ + +

Lane sat up quickly and looked around her darkened bedroom. What the hell? She snatched up the ringing telephone and bit out, “This better be good.”

“Lane it’s me Bryce. I just thought of something important about the whip. Can I come over?”

Bryce what the hell? She sounds drunk…shit all I want is sleep. “Sure come on over, I wasn't doing anything but sleeping.”

Lane looked at the bedside clock. “Arrgh, it’s only three.” She closed her eyes in exhaustion. I’ll just get in a few more minutes, she thought before her eyes flew open again. “What?” she said into the handset.

“I told you that bitch needed to die and you need to remove yourself from the case.”

“Get a life.” Lane slammed the phone down, jumped out of bed and flew down the hall to the living room. As if on cue, the phone rang again. She pressed the switch for the recorder and picked up the receiver but didn’t say anything.

“I thought you were a bright girl Lane but you obviously need a lesson in how to do what you’re told. That bitch client of yours needs to be in jail. Do I make myself clear?”

Lane said nothing allowing the time to stretch out until the caller spoke again.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” The voice went quiet for a moment before speaking again. “You know what I was just thinking?” Silence again. “How much I'm going to enjoy cutting out your tongue out before I kill you. What do you say to that Lane, hmm?”

After a long hesitation Lane spoke. “You’re sick and you need help would you like me to recommend a good therapist?”

“BITCH!”

“What’s the matter am I hitting too close to home?”

There was a light knocking on her door and she quietly she walked in that direction.Thank god for cordless phones. She looked through the peephole, smiled then opened the door. She motioned for Bryce to come in while holding one finger to her lips. Bryce nodded and sat down on the couch.

“I’m warning you take yourself off the case and let the bitch be convicted or you will regret ever becoming a lawyer.” The phone line went silent followed by a dial tone.

Holding the handset, Lane looked at it for a moment before placing it back on the holder. “Sorry,” she said to Bryce. “What did you remember about the whip?”

Bryce looked at the still blinking light on the recorder. “Kinda late for phone calls…was it your boyfriend?”

Lane frowned. “No…it was nothing.”

The dark haired woman’s eyes tracked to the table that held the phone. “Nothing? Really? Then why did you record it?”

Lane rubbed her forehead with her thumb and two fingers before letting out a loud sigh and pressing play. Once it was over, she looked at Bryce. “There you have it…someone definitely is out to get you and me.”

Bryce’s eyes widened. “Do you want me to find another attorney?”

Hazel eyes shot a look in Bryce’s direction. “NO,” she said emphatically. “I have no intention of letting some nameless, faceless deranged person dictate my life or how I defend my client. Please tell me what you remembered.”

Bryce gestured at the cushion next to her. “Sit here. What I have to tell you won’t make that caller happy.”

“Why don’t I make us some coffee first?”

“No, please sit.”

The look in Bryce’s eyes told Lane that whatever she had to say it was serious. “Okay.” She sat down and could feel the warmth radiating from her client’s body. “Tell me what you remembered.”

“This afternoon you asked me about the last time I used the whip.”

“Yes, I remember you thought it was about six months ago.”

“When Richard Collins was testifying today he said something about Preston embarrassing him in front of his grandson. At the time, I thought that sounded familiar but couldn’t figure out why. Then I forgot about it until I was lying in bed and all of a sudden I remembered why.” Her face glowed with excitement. “My family has a barbeque each spring and we invite just about everyone. Well, at the one this year some of the guys asked me if I would do a few tricks with my whip for their kids. I really don’t like to do that kind of thing but it was our party so I figured I should go ahead and do it. I had been doing it for about five minutes when who should bully their way to the front but Preston Garrett.”

“And?”

“He started heckling me with curses and saying something like the only way I could show off was if my mommy and daddy threw a party. Some of the people told him to stop, that their kids were there, but he just kept it up.” She paused for a moment as if to catch her breath. “Now, here is where it gets interesting…I took my whip and flicked it in his direction and it wrapped around his arm…the one that was holding his drink. I pulled a little until he dropped the cup. Then I said and that’s how you stop a drunk from drinking. Everyone laughed and Preston stomped off.”

Lane was wide awake now. “That was the last time you used the whip?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t clean it or oil it or do whatever it is one does to a whip?”

“There was nothing to do but coil it and put it back on the saddle.”

“You haven’t used the saddle or whip since then?”

“I only use that saddle when I am doing demonstrations.”

“Do you know if the whip left a mark on his arm?”

“I did see a red mark when I released the whip.”

“No blood?”

“There wouldn’t have been any. I wasn’t doing it to harm him only get his attention.”

“You say there were witnesses?”

“Oh yeah, there was quite a crowd around me…mostly kids but I’d say about ten adults.”

“Do you know who they are?”

“Yeah.”

Lane was alert and her mind was whirling with all the possibilities and implications of the information. There’s a distinct possibility that her whip wasn’t the one used in the murder. “One thing is for sure, it will bring reasonable doubt about the whip to the forefront.” For the next hour, Lane paced the room as she asked Bryce question after question about who was there, what they saw and of all the witnesses who would be the most reliable.

“Were either of your parents there?”

“No, but my mother saw him right after ‘cause he told her he was going to get my butt thrown in jail for what I did.” Bryce laughed.

“Do you know if he actually spoke to the sheriff?”

“Yeah I think he did ‘cause Jo Don came up to me later in the day and told me to keep away from Garrett if I knew what was good for me.”

Lane’s eyes lit up, the sheriff - what better witness is there. She stood directly in front of her client and placed her hands firmly on Bryce’s shoulders. “This is excellent news. This morning the best I could have hoped for was a hung jury but now…with this information no jury will convict you.” In an unexpected gesture, she planted a kiss on Bryce’s lips then pulled her in for a hug. Just as quickly, she pulled away, her face on fire. “Oh, Bryce I am so sorry that was completely uncalled for and totally unprofessional.” She shook her head and took a big step backwards. “I'm really, really sorry.”

Bryce’s eyes focused on a distant corner of the ceiling as she tried to process what had happened. Uncharacteristically, she blurted out the first thought that came to her. “I’m not.”

Lane’s brow furrowed. “You’re not what?”

“Sorry it happened.” She shrugged then leaned in and kissed Lane. “Maybe after this is all over we can explore it further.”

Lane, with her lips still tingling from Bryce’s kiss, looked into the grey blue eyes and smiled. “I’d like that.” She was reluctant to let the moment end but it wasn’t the time or place. “Looks like the sun is about to rise. Why don’t I make us some breakfast?”

“If I recall you had two supper specialties…what about breakfast?”

Lane laughed heartily. “I’ll have you know I am known in my family as the primer breakfast taco maker.”

“Now how did you know that was my favorite?”

Again Lane laughed. “A lucky guess. Come on you can beat the eggs.”

+ + +

The weekend flew by as Lane prepared for Monday’s day in court by interviewing several of the guests that attended the spring barbeque. Armed with her new information, she added a new name to her witness list. The hour had finally arrived and she sat motionless as she heard her first witness name called.

Although Bonnie Mae Earle was in her mid sixties one might think her to be at least twenty years younger. She walked with a straight back and head held high to the witness stand and pronounced I do precisely after the oath had been administered. The woman had a pleasant face marked by deep brown eyes that seemed to be almost black. Her furrowed brow was testament to her long hours as a veterinarian. If Monty Geiger was the cattleman’s lawyer Bonnie Mae was their vet.

“Dr. Earle do you know the defendant Bryce Clayton?”

“Land sakes yes.”

“For how long?”

“Since the day she was born.” Bryce had told her that she was delivered by the vet since she wasn’t about to wait to go to be born in the hospital.

“Do you think she is an upstanding citizen?”

“I sure do. There are lots of things she does in the background for the community that most folks aren’t aware of.”

“Like what?”

“She probably will have my hide for sayin’ this but years ago she set up an endowment fund for folks that couldn’t afford their vet bills.” She looked fondly at Bryce and was glad to see her adopted daughter smile.

“Dr. Earle, did you attend the barbeque at the Clayton ranch last April?”

“Sure did. I have never missed one,” she said with pride. “Everyone comes.”

“By everyone do you mean just the ranchers?”

“Lord no, I mean everyone around these parts. The Claytons have been havin’ the first barbeque of the year as long as I can remember.”

“Was Bryce at that barbeque?”

“She sure was and so were her brothers and sister and their families. The whole day is about family and all the Claytons attended.”

“Did you see Bryce use her whip on that day?”

“Yes, some of the boys talked her into givin’ a demonstration for their kids. Everything was going great until a drunken Preston Garrett showed up and started razin’ Bryce.”

“What happened?”

“Well he wouldn’t stop even after some of the fellas asked him to just cut it out being as their kiddos were there.”

“What did Bryce do?”

“Nothin’, she just kapt on until she heard them tellin’ him to stop?”

“Telling who to stop?”

“Why Preston of course.”

“Then what happened?”

“Bryce flicked her whip in Preston’s direction and wrapped it around his arm.”

“Can you show me about where on the arm?”

Bonnie Mae held her right thumb and forefinger around her left forearm. “Right here.”

“What happened next?”

“She tugged a little and he dropped the cup he was holdin’ and Bryce said that’s how you stop a drunk from drinkin’.” The vet laughed. “Lands sake, everyone started laughing and Preston grabbed that niece of his by the upper arm and stomped off.”

“Was Mr. Garrett’s shirt long sleeved or short sleeved?”

“I remember that the day was sweltering hot so everyone either had rolled their sleeves rolled up or had on short sleeved shirts.”

“Was there a mark on Mr. Garrett’s arm?”

“Sure was.”

“Did it bleed?”

“I didn’t see any blood. I doubt that there would have been any cause Bryce didn’t use much force.”

“Did Mr. Garrett say anything when he left?”

“I can’t remember the exact words but he said something about his niece being able to use the whip better than Bryce.” Bonnie Mae laughed. “He was madder than a wet hen.”

Lane turned back to the defendants table and smiled. “No further questions.”

Danny Kunkle wasted no time in jumping to his feet to begin his cross-examination. Much to the DA’s dismay, he could not persuade the vet to change any of her testimony.

“Call your next witness,” the judge said.

“I’d like to recall Lydia Peterson.”

Once Lydia took the stand and advised that she was still under oath, Lane asked her the first question. “Ms. Peterson, were you present in the courtroom when Dr. Earle gave her testimony about the barbeque last April at the Clayton Ranch?”

Lydia frowned. “Yes, it was a very hot day and my uncle didn’t like soft drinks or iced tea so he drank beer. He usually didn’t drink much and I’m afraid he had too much.”

“Did you hear the doctor’s account of what took place between your uncle and Bryce Clayton?”

“Yes.”

“To the best of your recollection was the doctor’s testimony accurate.”

“Yes.”

“Did your uncle seek medical aid for the mark left on his arm by the whip?”

“No, but he did show Margarita.”

“That’s Mrs. Clayton?”

“Yes.”

“According to Dr. Earle, your uncle said something about you being proficient in the use of a whip, is that true?”

Lydia squirmed a bit and lowered her eyes. “I am no where the expert Bryce is.”

“I’m asking, can you use a whip with some degree of accuracy?”

Again, the young girl squirmed. “Yes.”

“No further questions.”

The DA stood, straightened his suit jacket, opened his mouth to speak then sat down again. “No questions for this witness.”

“Call your next witness.”

“I recall Margarita Clayton.”

Margarita was reminded that she was still under oath then Lane asked, “Mrs. Clayton did you witness your daughter’s whip exhibition at the barbeque your family held last April?”

“No, I was busy welcoming our guests at the time.”

“Did Preston Garrett approach you at some time regarding your daughter’s behavior?”

“Yes.”

“Would you please tell the court to the best of your recollection what transpired?”

“For some unknown reason, Preston always spoke to me in Spanish which I never understood since my native tongue is Portuguese. He said something like that bastard daughter of yours has injured me and I am going to press assault charges against her. I looked at the arm he was holding up in my face and saw red around it. I asked him if he needed first aid. He was obviously intoxicated and his words were slurred. He told me that he didn’t need any of my help and that even a loser like my husband couldn’t have sired such a bitch and he asked who her father was.” As she spoke of the man’s crude remark Margarita’s voice fell to a whisper.

“What happened then?”

“I told him he was drunk and he should go home and sleep it off.” She blew out a breath. “He told me there was no damn way he was leaving and he grabbed Lydia and walked away.”

“What did Lydia do?”

“She looked back at me and mouthed she was sorry.”

“Mrs. Clayton, did Bryce use her whip after that day?”

“I don’t see how she could have. She was out in the panhandle most of the time looking at properties before going to her home near the Rio Grande. The saddle where she kept the whip was one her grandfather gave her. I remember asking her in a phone conversation sometime in late June if she wanted me to cover it up since she wasn’t using it.”

“What did she say to that?”

“She told me that as soon as the projects on several her properties was copmplete she planned on riding more when she returned home.”

“Why did she have to wait?”

“The summer was extremely hot and we didn’t have much rain so she had several companies drilling water wells on her properties. Bryce is a hands-on owner and spent most of the days helping the drilling companies.”

“Thank you Mrs. Clayton. No further questions.”

Danny Kunkle just sat in his chair seemingly dumbfounded. “Mr. Kunkle, are you planning on questioning this witness?” the judge finally said.

“I’m sorry your Honor yes, I am.” The DA didn’t stand up but focused his eyes squarely on Margarita and glared. “Mrs. Clayton, wouldn’t you do or say anything to protect your daughter?”

“What I said was the truth.”

“Please answer my question Mrs. Clayton. Wouldn’t you do whatever it took to see that your daughter didn’t go to jail for murder?”

Margarita sat looking directly at the man and matched his glare. “What I said was the truth. Preston Garrett was at the ranch on the day of the barbeque and showed me a mark on his arm that he said Bryce inflicted.”

“Would you do whatever it took to see that your daughter didn’t go to jail Mrs. Clayton?”

"Objection, he is badgering the witness."

"Overruled." The judge looked at Margarita. "You must answer the question."

In a low, quiet voice, Margarita answered, “Yes.”

“I have no questions for this witness.”

Lane watched as Margarita walked away from the witness stand and smiled fondly. That one could be considered a draw, Lane thought before she said, “At this time I would like to recall Sheriff Wilkins.”

Jo Don Wilkins took the stand with eyes shifting and sweat evident on his brow. The fierce look he sent in Lane’s direction was unmistakable.

For the sheriff, Lane remained seated. “Sheriff, this will be short. Did you attend a barbeque last spring at the Clayton ranch?”

“Yes.”

“Did Preston Garrett approach you and ask you to arrest Bryce Clayton?”

“Yes.”

“Why did he want you to arrest her Sheriff?”

“She used her whip on him,” he mumbled.

“Please speak up Sheriff I don’t think the jury heard you.”

“I said she used her whip on him,” Jo Don bite out.

“I have no further questions.”

The DA only shook his head before saying, “I have no questions.”

“The defense rests your Honor.”

+ + +

The prosecution’s summation was long winded and drawn out as the district attorney tried to paint a picture of an out of control woman who wanted to exact revenge on the victim. In his theory, Bryce was so incensed with Preston Garrett’s harassment that she finally snapped and murdered the man. He summed up his argument saying, “Consider all the evidence in your deliberations and don’t be swayed by the smoke and mirror defense that has been used in an attempt to confuse you into thinking the defendant is innocent. I assure you that she is not.”

On the other hand, Lane’s summation was short and to the point. “Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Over the course of the last several weeks, the prosecution has tried to weave a story of deception, vengeance and lust for land that resulted in the death of Preston Garrett at the hand of Bryce Clayton. We have a sheriff who held a long time grudge against the defendant’s father and a district attorney with and agenda that a high profile case could advance. We have heard how the police honed in on Bryce Clayton immediately and in their haste they never seriously considering anyone else. Every piece of evidence the prosecution has brought forth has no tangible link to my client and that includes the whip. As you heard from the prosecution at the beginning of this trial…”

Her summation concluded fifteen minutes later with, “If you have any doubts about Bryce Clayton’s participation in the murder of Preston Garrett then you must return a verdict of not guilty. Thank you.”

Returning to the defendant’s table, Lane patted Bryce’s hand and smiled. In return, Bryce with her face filled with apprehension gave her lawyer a slight nod. As the district attorney was giving his final summation Lane leaned in and whispered, “We are in the home stretch now the last thing the jurors will look at as they leave will be you. Don’t give them a reason to think you look guilty. Look at each one directly with the same confidence you show when you make a business deal.”

Bryce nodded, blew out a breath and looked at the jury, as they were lead out to the room where they would decide her fate.

+ + +

It only took the jury an hour to come back with a verdict. When the call came, Bryce, her parents, two brothers and her sister were in Lane’s office going over strategy for post verdict interviews.

“That was fast,” Bryce said to Lane as they walked hurriedly back to the courtroom. “Is that a good sign or a bad one?”

Lane stopped and looked at her client. “Let’s wait and see. It will be what it is and any conjecture that we might do is just that – a guess.” She saw the questioning look on Bryce’s face and smiled warmly. “Personally I will be surprised if they convict you.”

As the two women and the Clayton clan, made their way through the myriad of reporters and camera operators questions flew in their direction. Just as Lane had instructed, each looked ahead and refused to answer any questions.

As the jury filed into the courtroom, Lane looked at each one trying to see if she if anyone’s mannerisms would tell her the verdict. Inwardly she laughed for she had never seen a jury that anyone could read.

Judge Aniline asked the jury forewoman, “Have you reached a verdict?”

“Yes, your Honor,” the forewoman said and handed the bailiff a slip of paper.

The judge read the verdict. “Before the verdict is read I want it understood that outburst of any kind will not be tolerated in this courtroom.” He then handed the paper back to the bailiff who returned to the forewoman. “Will you please read the verdict?”

“In the case of the state of Texas verses Bryce Clayton for the second degree murder the jury finds the defendant not guilty.”

Bryce turned towards Lane and engulfed her in a hug. “Thank you.”

A roar of voices along with cheers welled up until the judge hammed his gavel. “Order in the court!”

Danny Kunkle was on his feet. “I want the jury polled your Honor.”

The bailiff then called on each juror to disclose how he or she voted. Once that was over, the judge again rapped his gavel. “Bryce Clayton you have been found not guilty and are free to go. Thank you jury for your service you are also free to leave.” He rapped the gavel for the last time, “Court is dismissed.”

Bryce turned to her mother and saw her cheeks colored with emotion before hugging her close. Soon her entire family had engulfed her in a group hug. Lane looked towards the back of the courtroom and saw Lydia standing near the door. The young girl smiled, winked then mouthed congratulations before a wave of departing spectators swept her away. Lane’s brow creased as her eyes tracked towards her client who also was watching Lydia.

Once the courtroom emptied, Bryce and her family stood with Lane. “When we go outside we will go as a group. The press will be on us like bees on honey so I must urge you to say only the minimum to them. I will read the following statement – The family of Bryce Clayton wishes to thank everyone for their support and comfort during this long ordeal. They want to especially thank the jury for the just verdict which exonerated my client – then I will take a few questions that we will collectively answer.”

Sam Clayton held out his hand to Lane. “Ms. Cuthbert I want to thank you for everything. If there is ever anything I can do for you please don’t hesitate to ask. Our family is very grateful for proving Bryce's innocence.”

Lane shook the man’s hand. “You’re most welcome. I think your daughter deserves much of the credit for she is the one that remembered about the barbeque and if it hadn’t been for that the verdict may have been different.”

Bryce seemed embarrassed by the discussion as she rocked back and forth on her feet with a slight tinge of red to her face. “Daddy will you and everyone give Lane and me a minute?”

Margarita gave her daughter a hug. “We’ll be right outside the door so none of those pesky news people can get in.”

“I can do one better Mrs. Clayton, Bryce and we'll use that small conference room. Why don’t you all meet us by the front entrance and we will be along in a minute or two.”

Once in the conference room, Bryce moved closer to Lane and engulfed her in a hug. “Thank you so much for everything,” she whispered through the strawberry blonde hair. She gave a final squeeze then moved back a step without releasing her hold. Grey blue eyes searched the hazel ones asking then receiving the answer. Slowly, she moved in and kissed Lane gently.

Not to be outdone, Lane returned the kiss in a more passionate manner. Finally, Bryce released her embrace. Lane smiled and nodded at the door. “Come on let’s get this over with and then we can start to get to know each other better.”

Outside, the family of Bryce Clayton stood in front of a conglomeration of microphones while Lane read the statement. “We have time for a few questions,” she said as she motioned the others closer.

“Bryce how does it feel to have a not guilty verdict?”

They certainly didn’t pick the best and the brightest to be here! How the hell do they think I’d feel? “I am very happy.” That should be a short enough answer.

“Lane, what do you think of the DA and sheriff’s homing in on you client only?”

“The sheriff has lost valuable time and evidence by focusing on my client exclusively. Right now, there is a killer on the loose and because of their rush to judgment they haven’t a clue as to who that might be.

“Lane, it has been said that the camera loves you. Are you interested in a broadcasting career?”

It was exactly what she wanted but it was too early to reveal that. “Well,” she said with a slight laugh, “I haven’t been asked.”

Without warning, the sound of a shot firing pierced the air. People began scrambling for somewhere safe to hide while others screamed out in horror. Sam Clayton grabbed his wife and pulled her to the ground. Bryce covered Lane with her body and they fell backwards. An eerie quiet filled the air as everyone held collective breaths waiting for another shot. After what seemed like an eternity, the sound of siren’s wailing filled the air. Slowly and cautiously, people began to stand and look around in fear of what they might see.

“Bryce I think we can get up now,” Lane whispered. Bryce didn’t move. Lane shook the woman’s back below her shoulder. “Bryce, Bryce you okay?” She felt sticky moisture and lifted her hand to see it coated in blood. Instantly, her fingers went to Bryce’s neck feeling for a pulse. Relieved that her finger felt a slight throbbingshe screamed,“Somebody, help, Bryce has been shot.”

Once the paramedic had carefully rolled Bryce away, Lane gasped, “I’ve been shot too,” before she lost consciousness.

Part Nine

“It’s your fault Joe Don,” Sam Clayton shouted angrily. “If you had bothered to find the murderer instead of falsely accusing my daughter she wouldn’t be lying in a hospital with a bullet wound.”

The sheriff’s face grew red. “All the evidence pointed to her!” He reached out to the irate man only to have his hand slapped away. “Listen, we will find out who did this.”

“You’re damn right you will!”

“I don’t know if it will help, but Bryce wasn’t the target – her lawyer was.”

Sam knew the truth in the words for there had only been one shot and from all accounts, Bryce stepped in front of the lawyer. The bullet traveled through the upper right part of Bryce’s body through her lung, exited and entered the left chest of the lawyer. To all intents and purposes, she saved Lane’s life - the bullet’s trajectory was aimed for the lawyer’s heart. The slug nicked Lane’s carotid artery resulting in profuse internal bleeding, which caused her heart to stop. The quick action by the paramedics and a top notch surgical team repaired the damage and although in ICU, she was in stable but serious condition. Bryce suffered a collapsed lung, which required the insertion of a tube to help with her breathing until the lung healed.

“We are on the same side here Sam. I am on my way to meet with my detectives who tell me they have a break in the case. Why not come along with me and you can hear it when I do.”

Sam scowled. “This better be good.”

“From the preliminaries, I understand that one of the camera crew didn’t duck but turned his camera in the direction of the gunshot. We have a specialist digitizing the still shot so we can get a better look at the shooter.” Joe Don ushered Sam through the door to the criminalist’s lab. “I hope you have good news for me Ned.”

“Sure do Sheriff. I have a clear picture of the shooter. First let me show you the tape.” The man pressed play and a picture came into view that quickly panned the terrified people then focused in the direction of the shot. There clearly was a person crouching behind a car with a rifle resting on the trunk. When the person stood up to walk rapidly towards an alley between two buildings a clear image of a man was visible. “There was only a brief second of the guy’s face but that was enough to zoom in on him.” Ned made a few more mouse clicks and a picture appeared. “Do you know who it is?”

Both Sam and Joe Don’s mouth opened in shock.

“Isn’t that…,” Sam said.

“Randall Huggins,” Joe Don said. The sheriff scratched his head. “Why would he want to kill his law partner?” He turned to Lisa Gibson the lead detective on the case. “Have you located him?”

“He isn’t at his home or office. We have an APB out for him. Someone spotted his car at the Hill Country Motor Lodge but by the time we got there, he was gone. It is just a matter of time before we pick him up.”

“Keep me informed.” Joe Don looked at Sam. “I’ll give you a call as soon as we hear anything. Right now, I need to get Monty on the phone.”

Sam’s eyes fixed on his long time adversary. “Make sure that you do. I don’t think anymore screw ups will appeal to the voters Joe Don.”

+ + +

Bryce stood by Lane’s bedside and watched the woman sleep. Except for the machine she had to carry around, she was ready to go home. Lane looked so vulnerable and small that Bryce wanted nothing more than to scoop her up in her arms and protect her.

“Are you going to stand there just looking at me or sit down?” Lane’s hoarse voice asked.

A smile filled Bryce’s face for the first time since the shooting. She pulled a chair closer to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit…how about you?”

“I’m doing okay.” She gently took Lane’s hand. “We’ve all been worried about you.”

“We?”

“Your folks, my parents and Monty.”

“My mom and dad are here?”

“Yep, they went back to your house to shower and freshen up. They didn’t want to leave but my mother persuaded them it would be for the best.”

Lane’s mind was trying to remember something important that was just out of reach. “How long?”

“Three days.”

Lane’s eyes fluttered shut then opened wide. “That caller followed through on his threat didn’t he?” She saw the faint nod of Bryce’s head. “You saved my life.”

“I think it is the other way around,” Bryce said gently.

“No, you saved me from…a gunshot.” Her eyes widened. “That madman really wanted me dead.” Panic and fear colored her words. “Did they catch them?”

Bryce gently ran her fingers along Lane’s cheek. “Why don’t you get some rest and we can talk about this later.”

Moving and grimacing, Lane croaked out, “No! We will talk about this now! Who tried to kill me?”

“That’s not important. What’s important is that they didn’t kill you. You have been through a major ordeal and right now you need to relax and not get upset.” Bryce couldn’t believe the words that were coming out her mouth. This is so unlike me.

“I will be a lot less upset if you will just answer my question. I’m not a child that needs to be protected just tell me who shot me!”

Ronald Cuthbert entered the room and beamed at his now awake daughter. “Now darlin’ you know better than to demand an answer. You need to cajole the witness into thinkin’ that they are safe then they will tell you everything.”

“Daddy!” Lane’s face lit up when she saw her father. “Where’s mom?”

“She’s outside talking to Bryce’s mother.” He approached the bed and bent to kiss his daughter lightly on the cheek.

Lane cast a disparaging look at Bryce. “Maybe you will tell me who shot me.”

“Now don’t go gittin’ all riled up at Bryce, she is only following the doctor’s orders.”

“I don’t give a damn about the doctor or his orders I want to know who shot me!”

Ron turned to Bryce. “You know, even as a child she was single minded. Once she got her mind set on somethin’ there was no changin’ it until she got answers.”

Bryce shook her head knowingly. “Hey, that’s what makes her the great lawyer who won me my freedom.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Hey, you two, I’m here in the room.” Lane chuckled for it was her standard line when she lived at home and her parents were discussing her schooling.

Just then, the doctor entered the room. “Would you excuse me while I examine my patient?”

Ron and Bryce smiled knowingly at each other – they had dodged telling Lane the answer to her question. Once out in the hall, Ron said, “When the doctor comes out we will ask him if we can answer her.”

“Your daughter certainly reminds me of dog with a bone.” Bryce laughed as Ron put his arm around her shoulder and she fought the urge to recoil from the touch.

“I know I have said this before, but my wife and I are so grateful for what you did to protect her.”

Bryce moved away from the embrace and looked reflectively at the older man. There was never a question of whether to save just myself - Lane came first. The emotional tug to protect Lane felt strange to her. We haven’t known each other all that long, but I know I want to watch over and protect her. “I would do it again.”

Marissa Cuthbert engulfed Bryce in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for saving my little girl.”

Bryce was so far out of her element she didn’t know how to handle the situation. She had never been a touchy feely type of person and in the last few days, it seemed that someone is always hugging me. She gently disengaged herself from the arms of the older woman. “You’re welcome.” Her eyes turned towards her mother and pleaded for help.

True to form, Margarita came to the rescue. “I’m going to take my daughter down to the cafeteria for some coffee. Can I bring either of you something back?”

“You don’t want to wait for the doctor?” Ron asked.

Bryce wanted nothing more than to be there when Lane found out that Randall Huggins shot her. It is something that her parents need to do without me there. “No, I think it needs to come from you.”

Ron and Marissa Cuthbert just stared at Bryce. I would have to be blind not to see the connection she has with my daughter, Marissa thought. The older woman reached out and touched Bryce’s hand. “She will want you there too.”

Life had taught Bryce to remain in control of every situation and she didn’t know what to do with the woman’s touch. The feeling I have of protectiveness towards Lane is so strange to me…but, it is something I want to explore further. How can that be? She looked in the woman’s eyes and thought she saw sincerity. I’ve learned never to reveal how I feel so others wouldn’t have the upper hand and yet I want to know Lane on a level I have never explored before. I need to think. “I’ll be back.”

“We won’t be long.” Margarita smiled and took her daughter’s arm and led her away. Inwardly she sighed. I wonder if my daughter will ever get used to another’s touch.

A few minutes later, Dr. Moran came out of the room. “How’s she doing?” Ron asked anxiously.

“Right now she seems very agitated.”

“She wanted to know who shot her.”

“Tell her. That wound doesn’t need the increase in her blood pressure.”

Once the doctor left, Ron and Marissa took several deep breaths before entering their daughter’s room.

+ + +

Lane rested the newspaper on the hospital table. She was still reeling from the news as she read local attorney Randall Huggins arraigned for attempted murder. Until the moment that the bullet penetrated her body, she thought the world was hers for it was. She was exactly where she had planned to be. All the major television outlets were clambering for interviews and several had even made overtures about an audition. The attempt on her life was a life altering experience and she needed time to reevaluate her priorities. Added to the mix, was Bryce Clayton who proved to be more of a surprise than the shooting. She didn’t know the exact moment when she started thinking of Bryce in terms other than lawyer/client, but she had. Now I’m sitting here like a school girl waiting anxiously for the Bryce’s visits each day. Then when I see her, I feel all giddy and awkward. I’m a lawyer for god’s sake how can I be so tongue tied when she’s around.

The long hours of alone time in the hospital gave Lane plenty of time to reflect on her life and she didn’t like what she had become. Up until the shooting, Lane’s life was all about her master life plan. With my goals, coming so close to fruition I wonder if that plan was such a smart idea. I wish I had taken more time to know some of the women that I bedded over the years. I bet many of them could have been lifelong friends. She had always considered friendships a necessary evil to an end in achieving her ambitions. Is there anyone other than my parents, I could call and know they will drop everything to be with me?NO! Solitude had always been her way of keeping the world at arms length. I certainly have accomplished that. For the first time, she was lonely and craving the company of something other than her law books. Is Bryce what I crave or am I transferring a need I have for someone in my life on to her? She sighed. Guess I need to start somewhere. Who better than someone who appears to want, no needs the same thing that I do. In the bargain, I get to spend time with a beautiful woman.

As if on cue she heard, “How’s my girl doing this morning?”

She felt her heart skip a beat as she looked into the grey blue eyes. “Am I your girl?”

Bryce shrugged, “I hope you will be.”

Lane smiled and shook her head. “I would like that very much.” She patted the bed. “Come sit by me and tell me what’s happening outside of these four walls. Did you go to the arraignment?”

Bryce took Lane’s hand as she sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “He pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity.”

The lawyer narrowed her eyes. “Insanity? I worked with the guy and there is no way he is insane.”

“Yeah I know.”

Lane was seething. “I spoke with Monty yesterday and he said that Randall was outraged when I was made partner. He had worked for the firm for fifteen years and thought that the position should have been his.” She swiped a hand across her cheek pushing back her hair. “According to Monty, he called me the rich bitch that had no business in the law firm. Apparently, he had been conducting an ongoing campaign to discredit me from the beginning of your arraignment. He was on the phone with Monty daily telling him what he thought I was doing wrong.” Lane flexed her jaw. “Never once did he mention anything about Randall being mentally unstable so how is this plea possible.”

“According to what was said in court, he has a long history of psychosis that he was taking medication for. Sometime in the last six months or so he stopped taking them and his lawyer is saying that the shooting was a result of that.”

“That’s bullshit.” A memory invaded her consciousness. “You know I had a similar case when I was in Houston. Insanity is so subjective that they will end up with,” she held up her fingers in a quote motion, “two experts divergently opposed in their opinions.” She tapped her lips with her finger. “Hmm, I will have to give the DA a call…” She felt the warmth of the hand holding hers squeeze slightly as hazel captured blue grey. “I’m sorry. It’s the legal mind I can’t seem to turn it off.”

“Which is why you’re a great lawyer?”

“Not a very good one if I couldn’t see that the man I trusted to be my second hated me.”

There was a light tap on the door and both women turned to see who it was. Lydia Peterson stood in the doorway holding a balloon. “Is this a bad time? Margarita said you were allowed visitors.”

Lane smiled at the young woman. “Please come on in Lydia.”

Bryce awkwardly got up from her resting place on the bed. “I…I guess I should leave.”

Hazel eyes flashed and grabbed Bryce’s wrist. “No.” She noticed Lydia looking at her curiously and added, “We still have some legal matters to discuss.”

Bryce’s eyes focused on Lane as she pulled her hand loose. “It’s okay I’ll come back later.” The hazel eyes were pleading with her to stay and she was helpless to refuse. “Well, I guess I could wait right outside the door and read a magazine while you visit with Lydia."

Lane smiled happily. “Good, I’m glad that is settled.” She held her hand out to the young woman. “Please come sit in the chair and tell me how you’re doing.”

Cautiously, Lydia walked to the chair while her eyes never left the retreating Bryce. Lane scowled slightly noticing the satisfied smile cross the young woman’s face. What’s up with that?

Lydia took the offered chair as she smiled and winked. “I am doing great. My aunt and I are thinking about remodeling the house and a general upgrade to the out buildings. We’d like to eventually purchase several new stallions and go into horse breeding. Aunt Marcia thinks we might want to start some sort of horse training facility too. Of course, that is all in the future. First, there are problems with my uncle’s will – some sort of legal stuff about a codicil he attached that has the bulk of his estate tied up for now. Fortunately, my aunt saved wisely over the years so she will be fine until it is all figured out.” Lydia blushed. “Oh. I’m sorry to be rattling on about me when you are the one lying there in a hospital bed.”

“Trust me, it is good to hear conversation other than what my urine output is or if I’ve had a bowl movement.” Lane laughed then held her hand over the incision in her chest.

“Are you okay?” an alarmed Lydia asked.

Lane saw Bryce nervously pacing outside her door and smiled. “I forget every so often that things that we take for granted like laughs, coughs and sneezes are painful if you’ve had surgery. I’ll be fine. I read somewhere that laughing helps people heal faster.” Her eyes tracked to the young woman and smiled fondly. “I’m glad that you are doing so well Lydia, I was worried about you.”

Lydia leaned in close and whispered, “You said we couldn’t go out because of the trial. Now that it is over would you have dinner with me once you are up and about.”

Lane scratched her head. I really do need someone to wash my hair before something sets up house in there. “Why don’t we see how things go once I get home.” She hoped that would placate the girl until she could think of a good reason not to have dinner with her. Her eyes diverted back to the woman outside her door. Lydia is nice but young and I’d rather spend time with Bryce.

Fifteen minutes later Lane yawned widely and closed her eyes.

“You look like you need a nap and I should be going,” Lydia announced as she got up. “I don’t want to be the cause of a relapse.”

Both women looked towards the door when a young man in a short lab coat entered. “Time for another blood sample,” he said cheerfully.

Lane frowned. “Haven’t you taken enough from me already?” She turned her attention to Lydia and smiled. “Thanks for visiting and we will talk as soon as I am back on my feet.”

Lydia shrugged then bent over and kissed Lane on the cheek. “Get better real soon now ya hear,” she drawled as she turned and left the room.

As Lydia left, the man approached the bed with his plastic carrier filled with blood testing materials. Lane held her arm out and made a fist then noticed Lydia and Bryce talking outside her door. Her attention, intent on the two women, completely masked the feeling of the needle pricking her skin and drawing blood from her vein. “That’s it,” the man said.

Still concentrating on the hallway, Lane absently said, “Thanks see you later.” The exiting man blocked her line of sight and when she could see the women again, they were embracing. A shot of jealousy raged through Lane’s mind. Why are they hugging? Bryce is interested in me and so is Lydia not each other. Her analytical mind began piecing together the puzzle pieces she had gathered but hadn’t put together. Was it Bryce Lydia was looking at in the courtroom and not me? Lydia’s distain for Bryce seemed genuine but her client tried to protect the woman from a brutal cross examination. Are they friends? Maybe more than friends…what is going on between them? Her mind was whirling with so many scenarios that when Bryce re-entered the room she didn’t notice.

“Hey, are you ok?” Bryce asked.

Lane shook her head and looked at the woman with suspicion. “What’s going on?”

Bryce’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You and Lydia out there in the hall.” Lane’s eyes never left Bryce’s face. If she is lying to me, I will know it.

For her entire life, Bryce had been practicing for this one moment. “Lydia?” she asked frowning. “I heard about the problems with her uncle’s will and wanted her to know if she or her aunt needed anything. I told her whatever they needed I would provide.”

“What have you heard about the will?” Lane asked coolly. Why would Bryce be so eager to help them out - they hate her. Don’t they?

“The story goes that Preston was in the process of changing his will the week before his death.”

“And?”

“Apparently, he was in the process of disinheriting everyone and setting up an endowment at UT.”

Lane’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“Don’t know. The man was crazy so anything he did wouldn’t surprise anyone…especially me.”

“What else.”

“It seems he had only initialed the first page of the document and never signed it.”

“He was a client of Monty’s how come I never knew about this?” Something stinks in this story. “Had we known this information during your trial...there never would have been one.” Lane thought for a minute. “Monty was out of town so who…”

Bryce’s grey blue eyes hardened. “Huggins.”

The room became deathly silent. Lane focused her eyes on a piece of thread from the blanket. Bryce’s revelations had brought to the forefront a thought that was swirling around in her head for days. “Randall,” she said softly.”

Bryce noticed the sudden change in mood, sat back down on bed and held Lane’s hand. “What about him?”

“Did he Randall kill Preston so he could set me up?” she whispered. If I’m responsible for the man’s death, I need to know. “He withheld the information about the will from me and he had to have known it would have stopped the sheriff’s investigation into you completely.”

“No, no he didn’t kill Preston,” Bryce said in a hushed tone as she breathed a sigh of relief. Good, this has put her onto another train of thought away from asking about Lydia.

“How do you know that? Wouldn’t he have killed Garrett to set up the trial and ultimately me if he is truly deranged? Look, at all he did to sabotage your trial. I bet I can come up with a half a dozen interviews he took and never gave me all the details.” Lane laughed. “I went home at night going over my notes wondering why I was surprised by a witness’s testimony.” She shook her head and added, “They were my witnesses!” She pursed her lips before blowing out a long breath. “Add to that the issue of the will and it seems to me that he could have killed the man.”

“Look at me please.” Bryce lowered her head so Lane’s hazel eyes had to look directly into the grey blue ones. “Preston got exactly what he deserved. Now, Lydia and her aunt don’t have to live in fear. Once they get the issue of the will cleared up they will have the lives they should have always had.”

Lane knew the answer before she asked the question. “You know don’t you?” She shook her head. “You know who killed him.” In an almost imperceptible voice Lane added, “You?”

A long tapered finger touched Lane’s lips. “Some questions are better left unanswered.”

A myriad of scenarios whirled in Lane’s mind. It is clear to me that Bryce had a hand in the man’s death either directly or indirectly. I’m certain she didn’t kill him but I can’t be sure. Did she concoct an elaborate ruse to get the police to focus on her only? The timing of the revelation about her whip couldn’t have come at a better time. The jury found her not guilty, the trail to the real murderer is cold and the case is dropped. I wonder who she’s protecting. It was in that instant that Lane knew she wanted to know the answer but at the same time feared what it would be. All the testimony pointed to the fact that Preston Garrett was an egomaniac who did unspeakable things to Lydia. I imagine his wife had her share of his abuse too. For now, I will go along with Bryce…some questions need to go unanswered but not forever.

“Hey,” Bryce said. “What’s going on in there?”

Lane shook her head and smiled. “Nothing really. You’re right I don’t need to know the answer.” As she had done numerous times during the trial, Lane searched Bryce’s eyes for hints of deception. She saw none but wondered if the woman was a master of illusion. Did she orchestrate everything? Am I just one violin in the symphony’s strings section? She closed her eyes knowing that she would never know the answer to her questions unless she met them head on. Now, isn’t the time, she thought exhaling. She couldn’t help herself as the words flowed out of her mouth, “Are you playing me Bryce?”

The same fingers that touched her lips caressed her face. “No,” Bryce said gently as she lifted Lane’s face. “Right now you need to focus on getting better.”

Maybe it was the medication or the stress of the situation that caused tears to well in Lane’s eyes before they tracked down her cheeks. “You know I’m not as strong as I make out and this has really scared me,” she admitted tremulously. “How can I ever trust anyone in my profession again?”

Gently, Bryce brushed her fingers across the tear stained cheeks. “I won’t ever let anyone harm you again.” She moved closer to the woman before engulfing her gently in a hug.

Lane felt the arms around her and knew the truth of Bryce’s words. Just as she had protected her during the shooting, she would always keep her safe. “I’ve been so lonely and never knew it,” she whispered.

Bryce hugged Lane even closer. “Me too. You want to know my greatest fear?’

“What?”

Bryce released the hug then placed her strong calloused hand on each of Lane’s cheeks. “Did you know I am falling in love with you and that is something I have never felt before?” She watched as Lane smiled and briefly close her eyes. “My greatest fear is waking up and finding you’re gone.”

Lane’s hands mirrored the larger ones. “I am falling in love with you too. Like you, it is a new and very scary emotion. My greatest fear is that if you knew my life’s plan and what I have done to achieve it you would walk out the door.”

Bryce breathed in deeply. I worry one day you will find out the truth about me and be gone. Bryce cocked her head and smiled. “Tell me your plan you might be surprised by my reaction.”

Lane lowered her hands and waited for Bryce to do the same. Her eyes diverted back to the thread on the blanket. “I don’t want to take the chance of losing you,” she said barely above a whisper.

A large hand rested on Lane’s head as Bryce bent her neck to look into the woman’s face. “Trust me.”

After a long pause, Lane began telling of her plan and all the choices she made to achieve it. All the while, she had her head lowered refusing to make any eye contact with Bryce. “Your arrest was exactly what I wanted. I used you to attain notoriety so I could become the next legal darling of the airwaves.” Her words sounded so cold and heartless that she could hardly believe her ears. When she finished, she held her breath and waited for Bryce to get up and leave.

When Bryce had researched Lane Cuthbert, she realized it was more than a coincidence that Lane had attended Monty’s alma mater. Dickenson School of Law was an excellent institution but Lane was too good not to go to the very best law school. At the time, she knew there was more to the story and now she knew the answer. Lane had cleverly calculated every move so she would end up as Monty’s partner. “It must have seemed like a gift when you were presented with my case.”

Lane sniffled. “At the time, I couldn’t believe my good luck.”

“And now?”

She lifted her head and looked squarely at Bryce. “Now, I can’t believe my good fortune to have you in my life.” Once again, she held her breath.

Bryce stood up. “I’ll be back later,” she announced over her shoulder as she left the room.

Lane was shocked as confusion filled her mind while she watched the retreating Bryce. I’ve made such a mess of everything. I should have said nothing and taken her as my lover until I grew weary of her as I have all the others. Her heart ached at the thought. She wanted Bryce in her life. Tears fell and her nose filled. “Damn it, where are the tissues?” She bent over, opened the drawer of the bedside table and rummaged around until she found the small box of hospital tissues. When she looked up through tear drenched eyelashes she saw Bryce standing in the threshold holding several bouquets of red roses. She furrowed her brow. “You came back. I thought you had walked out of my life.”

“These are all they had in the gift shop so I called the florist and they will be delivering more.”

“I don’t understand.”

Bryce laid the flowers on the bed and smiled down at the teary eyed woman. “My girl deserves flowers lots of flowers so she can shame them with her beauty.” Her eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that what people who are in love do…buy flowers?”

“But you left?”

“The lady in the gift shop told me earlier that fresh flowers would be delivered at ten and I didn’t want to take a chance that they would be gone.” Bryce looked at the stricken look on Lane’s face and suddenly realized what she had done. “I’m sorry…I didn’t think…I just wanted to get you the flowers.” She didn’t know what to do. Her mind clicked through all the scenarios of her life and she realized she had no frame of reference for tears. She looked at the rivers that continued to course down Lane’s cheeks. “Please don’t cry. I will never leave you. I already guessed most of what you told me, and it doesn’t matter. If you want to become the next television legal goddess, I’ll support you completely. Hell, I’ll buy you a network if that’s what you want.” She didn’t understand why Lane hadn’t stopped weeping. This is all so new to me. Shit, what have I done? How do I fix it? She kissed Lane and tasted the salty liquid. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

Lane wrapped her arms around Bryce’s neck and pulled her in for a deeper kiss before whispering through her lips, “They’re happy tears.” Several minutes later, the two women were smiling happily at each other as they quietly whispered words of love.

+ + +

Much to Lane’s protestations, she did her recuperating at the Clayton Ranch under the watchful eyes of Bryce and Margarita. On the plus side, she could spend the majority of her day with Bryce, but even that had its drawbacks.

After a week of cold showers and stolen moments of intimacy, Lane felt her body scream for satisfaction. Once their kisses turned passionate Bryce would pull back in fear of one of her parents discovering them. Somehow, I need to figure a way to get her alone, she thought as she sat at the kitchen table chatting with Margarita while the older woman did preliminary preparations for supper. “Mrs. Clayton?”

Margarita stopped tearing lettuce and looked up. “Yes, dear.”

“Do you think Bryce would show me her ranch…I mean do you think I would be up to something like that?”

Margarita beamed. “I am glad my daughter has finally found a friend.” The older woman shook her head. “I have worried over her for so long.” She reached over and patted Lane’s arm. “I am sure she would love to take you.” She eyed the woman curiously as Lane’s face lit up when Bryce entered the kitchen. “Ah, there you are. Would you take Lane out to Ascensión? She wants to see what’s out there.”

Confused, Bryce looked first at her mother than at Lane. “Sure, no problem. When do you want to go?”

Just the sight of Bryce made Lane’s body tremble. “The sooner the better.”

“Are you sure you are well enough?” Bryce said with concern.

“Trust me I am more than ready.”

Bryce frowned slightly. What’s going on? Then she saw the smoldering look in Lane’s eyes and winked. “Then let’s get going.”

“Supper is at six don’t be late.” Margarita watched as to women went out the door. She hadn’t been blind to the way they looked at each other. Although, the thought of her daughter in a relationship that the church strictly forbids upset her, she was glad that Bryce had someone in her life. I have never seen Bryce smile or laugh in the way she has since meeting Lane. She shrugged as she went back to preparing the night’s meal. “Love is love.”

“For who?” Sam asked as he snatched up a slice of green pepper.

Margarita slapped her husband hand. “Stop that is for supper.” Then she smiled brightly at the man who had been at her side for nearly forty-six years. “Don’t you think that love is love in whatever form it comes in?”

Knowingly, Sam shook his head. “Yes, I do.” He eyed his wife. “Is it okay with you?”

Margarita sighed. “Yes and no. I have never seen her so happy and relaxed. Lane is good for her but…”

“The church.”

“Yes. How can I resolve that?”

Sam wrapped his arms around his wife. “You said it all. Love is love and isn’t that what God teaches us.”

“God may teach that but the church takes an entirely different view.”

Sam laughed. “Yes, it does but from my point of view, Bryce is happy and that is what is most important to me.”

Margarita wasn’t as convinced. “It is important to me too but… We shall see.”

Sam hugged his wife close. “It will all work out. By the way, where are they?”

“Oh, they took a ride out to Ascensión. Lane said she wanted to see what it was like.”

Sam eyed his wife. “And you don’t think that was the truth?”

“No, I think she wanted to see it, but wanted to see it alone with Bryce.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, Sam’s eyes took in his wife’s body. “We’re alone and we should make the most of it.”

Margarita smiled, put down her paring knife and fell into the loving arms of Sam. “I’m all yours.”

+ + +

After they drove up the dirt road and were out of sight of the house, Bryce applied the brakes. “You want to tell me exactly what you want?”

With a rakish smile, Lane leaned over and caressed Bryce’s face. “I want you.” Her thumb made slow circles on the woman’s cheek. “I don’t want to wait any longer Bryce.” Her other hand found its way to Bryce’s thigh. “Will we be alone at your ranch?”

“My ranch hands will be there.”

“In the house?” Lane asked as her voice took on a seductive growl as her fingers rubbed the thigh.

Bryce sucked in a breath. “No,” she said with a tremble. “Lane…”

A lone finger touched her lips. “We will take it slow.”

“But…” she said around the finger.

“Why don’t we go to Ascensión and just take it from there.”

Bryce engaged the gear and sped off towards her ranch with a mixture of trepidation and excitement spinning in her mind.

In sharp contrast to the outside temperature, Bryce’s home was cool and comfortable. Sausalito tiles seemed to cool the room more and Lane shivered in reaction. “Do you want me to turn up the heat?” Bryce asked as she put an arm around Lane’s shoulders.

“No,” Lane purred. “I think you can warm me up just fine.”

Apprehension filled Bryce. I’ve only taken…I don’t know if I can be tender and loving. “I can try,” she said softly.

Standing on her tiptoes, Lane’s lips caressed the full red ones. Stepping back, she smiled. “This is new to me too. What do you say we just take it slow and see what happens?”

Lane’s answer was to be swept off her feet and carried into the bedroom. Trembling naked bodies lay huddled in the security of each other’s arms. At first, their lips gave small chaste kisses but soon insistent passionate ones demanded more.

Pulling out of an embrace and with trembling hands, Lane stroked Bryce’s face. “I’ve never made love before,” she whispered.

Bryce frowned, “You’re a virgin?”

Lane chuckled. “No, I have had my share of bedmates, but none that I have ever been in love with. Until you are with someone in that way it cannot be called making love.” She shrugged. “So I guess in a way I am a virgin.”

Strong arms immediately encircled the strawberry blonde woman. “So am I.” Bryce closed her eyes relishing in the feel of her body rubbing against the bare skin of Lane. “I want to make love with you…I want you.” Her lips kissed the woman with a tenderness and love that she had never experienced. Her only desire was to show Lane all the love she felt. “I love you Lane. I’ve never loved anyone before…you are my first.” Her eyes never left Lane’s as she tenderly let her fingers trail over the taut, yet supple body. She saw the delight in Lane’s eyes when she let her fingertips skim over the erect nipples sending a warm sense of pleasure through her body. Then, a hand reached out and encompassed her small breasts and Bryce felt an eruption of desire.

It seemed to Lane, that where she left off Bryce would begin - time has no meaning here only our love. Mutual touches elicited a sense of pure joy in and around her. I want nothing more than to love Bryce. Maybe then all those years of loneliness I’ve experience will be erased. Repeatedly, she whispered tender words of love as she delved deep inside touching the very core of the woman she loved. “I love you,” she mouthed as she felt Bryce tighten. Their bodies sang in one voice with the ecstasy of the moment when their bodies and spirits came together.

For an hour, they lay cuddled in each other’s arms. Words were not needed for each woman knew she was loved above all else. Finally, Bryce whispered, “It is almost four thirty. We have an hour to get a shower before we need to start home for dinner.”

“Hmm,” Lane purred. “I would rather stay right here, but I know how your folks are about meals.” She smiled seductively. “Have you ever taken a shower and made love?”

Bryce pulled back the sheet. “Another first,” she said before scooping Lane up and heading for the shower.

+ + +

In Lane’s honor, Sam and Margarita held a barbeque. It seemed as though the whole town turned out to welcome her as one of their own. Although Lane and Bryce made a conscious effort not to be together constantly, it was difficult. For the week proceeding the barbeque, they had found every excuse imaginable to leave the ranch and go to Ascensión where they would hole up, make love and delight in each other.

Bryce saw Lane standing near a fence chatting amicably with Maria Garrett. “Hi, are you two are you enjoying yourselves.”

The look that Lane and Bryce exchanged was not lost on Marcia who said, “I’m having a most enjoyable time, thank you. No one puts on a barbeque like your parents.” She smiled at Bryce. “Lane here tells me she will be going back to work on Monday. I bet your family will miss not having her around.”

Bryce drew in a breath. “Yeah, it’s been like having my sister living here again.”

Lane began coughing to disguise her laugh. Immediately, Marcia began patting her back. “Are you okay child?”

“Yeah,” Lane said breathlessly. “I think I swallowed a bug.”

“That’s gross,” the voice of Lydia said as she joined the group.

Laughing Lane smiled fondly at the younger woman. “Yes it is.”

“I’ll go get you something to drink,” Bryce said with a wink.

“Thank you.”

Marcia gently put her hand on her niece’s arm. “If you don’t mind, I see Ruth Hopkins over there and need to speak with her.”

Lydia nodded then smiled at Lane. “How are you feeling?” Lydia asked as she moved closer to the woman.

“Really good. How about yourself? Your aunt said that they start remodeling the house next week.”

“Yes, we decided to go ahead thanks to a generous loan from a friend.”

Bryce? Lane wondered.

Lydia hesitated then said, “May I ask you something?”

Lane’s attention focused on scanning the crowd for Bryce so she wouldn’t see the longing in Lydia’s eyes. “Sure ask away.” When she finally looked at Lydia, she felt her stomach churn. I know what she’s going to say.

“Why haven’t you ever called me back? I thought we had plans for dinner after you got out of the hospital.”

The stricken look on the girl’s face made Lane feel like she was about one inch tall. “Lydia, I’m sorry…it’s just that I…I’ve been out here recuperating…” Lane felt like the biggest jerk on the planet. I like Lydia but I’m not romantically interested in her. I guess in a way I led her on but that was before Bryce. Looking past Lydia, Lane spotted Bryce and her face filled with a glorious smile.

The look was not lost to Lydia nor was the companion smile beaming in Lane’s direction when Bryce arrived. “No problem,” she said with her eyes fixed on Bryce. “I understand.” Bryce wins again. "Bryce did keep her word to me and my aunt," she said absently. We are safe and out of the clutches of that evil man. To me that is more important than any relationship I might of had with Lane. Besides, the look of love is unmistakable.

Lane’s ears perked up. What promise? She felt Bryce’s fingers touch hers and all thoughts of anything else left her mind.

“Here you go,” Bryce said as she handed Lane a cup of ice tea. The touch of Lane’s fingers set off instant eruptions of pleasure. “Can’t have you relapsing…you would have to stay with us for another two weeks then.”

“We certainly wouldn’t want that would we.” Lane and Bryce locked eyes and held the gaze.

Lydia laughed and said, “I’ll leave you two alone…bet you don’t get much of that around here.” She winked then went in search of her aunt.

In the late hours of that night, Bryce quietly opened the door to Lane’s room. She peeled off her shorts and t-shirt and slid in next to Lane. A soft warm mouth assaulted her neck. “I thought you’d never come,” Lane cooed.

“I’ll always come for you,” Bryce said engulfing the woman in her arms.

+ + +

For the next three months, Bryce and Lane spent as much time together as their schedules would allow. Lane’s notoriety brought many new clients to the firm and that kept her very busy. Nevertheless, she always made time to spend supper and the evenings with Bryce. She had turned down the offers of several news stations opting to stay put and settle down. For her part, Bryce hired a management company that took over most of the duties that she shouldered alone. Daytime would find her at Ascensión working shoulder to shoulder with her employees in the day to day ranch activities.

Lane was amazed that Bryce seemed to be so at ease with her wealth and power. There were times that she wondered if the woman had any clue as to her importance in the community. She continued the practice of breakfast with the ranchers but never asked Lane to join her. In fact, Bryce never spent the night and that bothered her. She would ask her, why won’t you spend the night, and the answer was always the same – gotta to be up for breakfast with the boys.

It was Valentine’s Day and Lane stood in her living room with her hands on her hips amazed. Bryce must have bought every rose from miles around and they were now covering the room. She heard the door open and smiled. I’ll have to show her just how much I appreciate the gesture.

“Do you like them?” Bryce engulfed Lane.

“Oh yes,” Lane purred. “Want me to show you how much?”

“Just what do you plan on showing me?”

“This.” Lane kissed her cheek. “This.” Her lips traveled to Bryce’s mouth. “And, this.” Her fingers slipped up Bryce’s shirt and under her bra to capture a taut nipple. Her lips again captured her lover’s as her tongue sought entry. Nimble fingers undid the button of the jeans and slid the zipper down then pushed the garment towards the floor. “Hmm no underwear - you know just what I like.”

Bryce was lost in the feelings of Lane’s exploration. Every time they made love, it was as if it were the first time. Her experiences with woman and tenderness were limited at best. The professor was never gentle she only took. From that experience, Bryce learned to take what she wanted and never give anything in return. With Lane, she wanted only to give but had no point of reference for those feelings. She truly felt that until she made love with Lane she had never experienced lovemaking. I’ve never had any experience where love was involved.

They lay spent amidst rose petals. Bryce had surprised Lane when she pulled out a bag of rose petals and spread them on the bed. Breathlessly Bryce said, “I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

“Its amazing isn’t it? I don’t think there will ever be adequate words.” Lane smiled. “I love you is so lame when I feel so much for you.”

Bryce rested her head on Lane’s belly and looked up at her lover. “There is so much I want to give you.”

“I know one thing you can give me and it won’t cost you anything.”

Arching an eyebrow, Bryce asked cautiously, “And that would be?”

“Spend all your nights with me forever. Be my partner in all things and in all ways.”

There was a deep intake of breath before Bryce spoke. “I can’t do that?”

Although she tried to disguise it, a quizzical and disappointed look blazed in Lane’s eyes. “Why not…and don’t give me that stupid breakfast with the boys shit.” A thought that she had long ago surpressed forced its way to the top. “It’s about the trial and who killed Preston isn’t it?”

Bryce lifted her head and furrowed her brow. “No, why would you say that?”

“Why? Don’t you know why Bryce?” She saw the seemingly puzzled look and let out a small breath of reproach. “I’m not stupid Bryce I know you and Lydia have a secret about the murder…she as much told me so.”

“It’s news to me.”

“If we are to have any sort of relationship you have to trust me Bryce.”

“I do trust you.” Bryce moved so she was sitting up and looking down at Lane. “I…my…they don’t know and it would break their hearts…my parents…”

“Bryce, you are thirty eight years old and have never had a relationship with a man. Over the last several months, you’ve spent all you time with me. Do you realize just how many times I’ve had supper with you at your parent’s?”

“Oh, I guess about a dozen.”

“Try three times a week times three months.”

“That many?”

“Yes. How many other people have you brought home to supper?”

Bryce’s face reddened. “None.”

Lane widened her eyes. “Dah! I rest my case. You think your parents are stupid?”

“They aren’t stupid but…” Bryce sighed. “As long as it isn’t spoken of it isn’t real to them.”

Lane leaned forward and looked up into Bryce’s downcast face. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and maybe, if it isn’t too late, have children with you. We can’t do that if you stay hidden in a closet can we?”

Bryce looked away. “Can’t we just keep things like they are?”

“Is that what you want?” She grabbed Bryce’s jaw and forced her to look at her. “It isn’t what I want.”

“I don’t want to break their hearts.”

“But you will mine?” she asked in frustration. “If we have children there’s no way they won’t want to be involved. Isn’t that a given, especially with your mother?”

Bryce shook her head. “I never want to hurt you.”

“Well I have news for you - every night when you leave me it hurts.”

For the first time Bryce felt apprehension enter her heart at the fear of losing the woman she loved. “I don’t want to hurt you but what can I do?”

“Tell them. You want to know what happened when I came out to my folks?”

“Should I be afraid?”

Lane playfully slapped Bryce’s arm. “No silly. It is rather humorous.”

“Then by all means tell me.”

“Well, it was the final months of law school and I came back to San Antonio for my dad’s birthday. After the cake and presents my dad said he wanted to see me in his study.” Lane scrunched up her face. “Yikes, I thought, I must be in big trouble. So, I went into his study, which for some reason always frightened me. You’ve met my dad so you know how imposing he can be and he was on that day…”

+

“Lane I want to talk with you about a very delicate matter. Both your mother and I think the time has come for a frank discussion,” He said in his deep southern voice.

“Daddy, if this is about the birds and the bees I hate to tell you that you are too late for that.”

“No it is not about that. Don’t you have a secret you have been keeping that we should know about?”

Lane raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes upward in deep thought. “No, no I can’t think of anything,” she said with a shrug.

“Are you certain of that because we have been hearing rumors?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Ron Cuthbert looked at his daughter squarely and sighed. “I guess you don’t think you can trust me.”

Lane walked up to her father and put her arms around his waist. “Of course I trust you Daddy. There just isn’t anything I can think of that you don’t know.”

Ron hugged his daughter then released her. “Git goin’ then, your mama will be wonderin’ where you are.”

Lane started to leave when she turned around. “I guess I could tell you I’m gay.”

Her father only shook his head. “We’ve known that for years. I was talkin’ about you takin’ a position with the supreme court and not goin’ into practice with me.”

+

“You see Bryce, they already knew and my not going into practice with my dad was more important to them. I think if you tell your parents they won’t be surprised.”

“I don’t have the words.”

“I will be with you and we will find the words together.”

Bryce’s face brightened. “You would do that?”

“Of course, I’ll admit this is all new to me but I think it is part of love…being there for each other and being honest with our thoughts and emotions.” Lane had put one matter on the back burner for long enough. If we are going to commit completely I need to know the answer. “Will you ever tell me who killed Preston Garrett?”

“No.”

“Do you know who did?”

Bryce’s mind scrambled for a diversion. “You could always marry me and then it really wouldn’t matter what I told you would it?”

Lane’s mind was in turmoil this was like a dream with an added twist. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

Bryce grinned. “I can then whisper all my secrets to you and only you. Especially the ones about how much I love you and can’t live without you, what do you say?” She chuckled. “Besides, maybe then you’ll not ask me about Garrett again… for the record, I didn’t kill him.”

“But you know who did don’t you?”

“No.”

“No? Please Bryce its important do you know who killed the man?”

“I’m telling you the truth, I didn’t kill him and I don’t know who did.” Technically, I don’t know exactly who killed him. A name given to an anonymous person who used it for their own nefarious reasons can’t fall on my head.

There was no more doubt in Lane’s mind. Bryce didn’t kill Preston Garrett and doesn’t know who did. “Well in that case I have no other choice but to accept your proposal.” She fell into Bryce’s arms. “I love you. Tomorrow we will tell your parents and then,” she kissed her lover, “you can buy me a really big diamond.”

+ + +

Early the next morning Bryce held Lane’s hand as they entered the empty kitchen. “I don’t think I can do this,” she said.

“Sure you can. I’ve got your back.” Lane turned her neck and looked down Bryce’s backside then wiggled her eyebrows. “Hmm nice.”

Bryce dropped Lane’s hand and went rigged when she heard her father’s voice. Instincts took over and she turned towards the door only to have Lane’s firm hand take her arm. At that moment, Sam and Margarita entered the kitchen and Bryce gulped back the bile that had risen in her throat.

“Well it’s about time you two showed up,” Sam said gruffly. “We waited for over an hour to have dinner and why weren’t you at breakfast this morning?”

Bryce’s eyes found the floor. “Hmm, I didn’t know you were waiting and I had something else to do this morning.”

“What do you have to say for yourself girl?”

Margarita stepped in. “Lane I’m so glad to see you. I’ve made that tortilla soup you like,” she said as she gave the woman a hug. “Did Bryce give you flowers for Valentine’s Day?”

Bryce’s eyes flew open and her head jerked up. “What makes you think I gave her flowers?”

It was Bryce’s turn for a hug. “Don’t tell me you didn’t give her flowers…your father gave me two dozen of the most glorious red roses.” Margarita’s eyes turned to her husband and she smiled.

Sam nodded. “That is what you do on Valentine’s Day for the one you love Bryce. Don’t you know that by now?”

Her feet seemed to be rooted in one place and her mouth refused to shut. Did I hear right? “Of course I know that,” she said defensively.

“So did you give her flowers on not?” Sam asked with a twinkle in his eye.

What the hell do I say now? Her eyes locked with hazel and she knew the answer. “Did you have any trouble buying those flowers Daddy?”

“Yeah, I had to go clear to Austin for them.”

“You know why that was?”

Sam shook his head then laughed. “You gonna tell me you bought them all?”

“Yep, every single rose in town went to the woman I love.” Her arm went around Lane’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Please be happy for us.”

Margarita clapped her hands and laughed. “See Sam, I told you she bought all the flowers for Lane.”

Sam eyed his daughter and Lane. “I can see that you are happy therefore I am happy for you.” He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. “It won’t be easy you know.”

Lane spoke up. “We know but our families support and love will get us through the rough spots.” An impish smile crossed her face. “You know your daughter doesn’t cook and I’m not that good in the kitchen either, know any good teachers?”

The expression on Margarita’s face was priceless. “You won’t have to learn to cook for you shall have supper here.”

Lane grinned. “That is just the answer I hoped for,” she said as she approached the older woman and hugged her. “Otherwise I think we would have both starved.”

Margarita released the embrace as her face became serious. “I can’t lie to you and tell you both that this has been an easy decision for me. I have struggled with the obvious love you have for each other and the teachings of the church.”

Lane took a step back and found Bryce’s arms wrapping around her. Her head turned and hazel locked with grey blue and spoke of love. Bryce then leveled her eyes on her mother. “I love her and I won’t give her up.” She felt Lane pat her hand in support and swallowed deeply before she spoke again in a trembling voice. “For years I have lived in the shadows hiding who I am and how I feel. I’ve seen how you and Daddy and my brothers and sisters act with their families and long to have that same relationship with someone. Lane is that someone.” She gently kissed the strawberry blonde head. “Is it in your heart to accept me for who I am? Can you welcome us into the family just like anyone else?”

Sam moved close to his wife and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. For a long while, Margarita remained silent as tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks. “I love you Bryce.”

“But.”

“Don’t let Father Mark see you?”

Bryce let go of Lane as her eyes deepened in color. “And what? Live in the shadows some more? No, I don’t think that is going to happen. I love Lane and want the world to know. If that is a problem then we will move to a place where people appreciate love for love’s sake.”

Lane touched Bryce’s face. “I think we can come to an agreement here that will be suitable for us all.” She looked at Margarita. “I don’t believe for one moment you want Bryce to move away.”

“I do not want her to leave us, we love her. At the same time how can I ignore what Father Mark and the others will say and think behind our backs.”

Bryce’s face softened. “Is what others may think more important to you than I am?”

Margarita's eyes dropped a fraction to the stone floor and then she sighed heavily, “I love you Bryce and you are as dear to me as my husband.” Turning to Lane, she appealed for help. "You said you may have a solution?”

Lane rubbed her eyes and sighed. This isn’t going to be easy. “Do you think that you can allow Bryce to live her life with me?”

Margarita looked up at Sam, who smiled tenderly at his wife, women who ever understood them! “Bryce has always lived how she wanted. We would never stand in her way. Besides, I'm no baby sitter to a thirty-eight year old. I can't recall the last time she allowed her mother or me to bully her into anything…oh yeah she was three and wanted to keep that damn comforter she loved.” He winked in Bryce's direction.

Lane smiled. Ok we are making headway. “Bryce, do you think that we can be a couple and not flaunt it all over town…especially in front of the good father?” She raised her eyebrows in question. “They probably already are speculating about us so don’t you think it is better to let them guess than come right out and tell them?”

Bryce felt irritated at the compromise. She wanted this to be a fresh start with everything in the open.” We’ve had enough deception in our lives. “Is that what you want to do? Will it mean we can't live together as a couple?”

Damn is she stubborn. “NO. We are a couple and will live as one we just won’t be in people’s faces about it.” Lane shrugged and looked at Bryce tenderly. "We can do that can't we?"

Bryce took a deep breath and clenched her jaw. "I don't want to pretend I've done that all my life!"

Sam listened to the conversation and thought back to their early beginnings. We had to work so hard at dispelling any intolerance people felt towards us. When he heard his daughter challenge Lane’s compromise he knew that Bryce’s stubbornness and unwillingness to bend would soon turn to anger. He cleared his throat and saw three tense, yet astonished faces look in his direction. “Our family has weathered the storm of prejudice before so we are old timers at that.” He looked at Margarita. “Isn’t that right darlin’?” He noticed her face soften. “We were the only interracial inter-religious family around these parts and paid the price didn’t we?”

For the first time, Margarita realized that she was being as bad as the people who had scorned her and Sam over forty years earlier. I didn’t realize I had become just like them. I remember how much it hurt. Gazing at Bryce and Lane, she saw what was most important – love. It shines out of their eyes for each other. “You know your father and I can tell you some mean stories about prejudice around these parts, anyone for supper?”

The two women had met the first challenge to their relationship and won and that brought a smile to Bryce's face. She hugged Lane close to her and whispered, "I love you." And they kissed before they sat at the table for their first true family dinner.

No longer would either woman live in the shadows of deceptions and half truths. They had found what they had been searching for all their lives – love and acceptance.

The End