A Raging Dawn by C. J. Lyons Page B

do know who the prosecutor is, don’t you?” He waited a beat until he was certain he had her attention. “Your new favorite plaything.”
    She dropped the shrimp she’d so painstakingly picked up with her chopsticks. It slid across the plate, dangling over the edge. “How did—” Her face tightened. She looked over her shoulder before returning her gaze to him and lowering her voice. “I’ll do it. But you need to leave Manny out of it.”
    “Of course, of course. Far be it from me to interfere with true love.” He smirked as he skewered the wayward shrimp and popped it into his mouth. When would she learn? It was the one thing he shared with his father: Devon always got what he wanted.
    Always.
     
     

Chapter 11
     
     
    “C’MON, DETECTIVE, LET’S get our new friend tucked in,” Manny said to Ryder, walking past me.
    Jacob had his back turned, shuffling his papers and files at the defense table. Ryder waited a beat, raising one eyebrow as he stared at me, his expression hungry. I couldn’t help smiling in return, heat burning my cheeks.
    First day back at work after getting shot and he got to tackle a guy and hopefully get a lead on Tymara’s killers. Of course his hormones were raging worse than a teenage kid’s. Ryder allowed his hip to nudge against my backside as he strolled past, following Manny.
    Leaving Jacob and me. Our marriage had been dead and buried long enough that we could be friends without worrying too much about hurting each other. We knew each other’s vulnerable spots and we both cared enough to avoid them.
    I joined him at the table. The scuffle with Littleton had left his carefully organized files in a jumble. He was compulsive enough to keep his tea bags alphabetized; he wouldn’t rest until the files were back in order. I arranged the ones in reach, working in silence beside him, listening to him breathe, shallow and fast, as if he were still fighting with Littleton. “You did good today.”
    “Did I? Did I really?” His tone was bitter and defeated. He wasn’t struggling because of his wrestling match with Littleton. It was the harder fight, the one with his conscience.
    Knowing that reminded me why I had fallen in love with him. If Atticus Finch had had a grandson, it would be Jacob Voorsanger.
    “If you got Littleton off, you’d be condemning another woman. More than one. This way, with his help, we can nail the others. Pretty good for a day’s work.”
    “I’m not proud of what I did.” He stood, facing me, his files forgotten. “And you shouldn’t be either.”
    For once, I was unable to read his expression. His tone implied I was at fault for his betrayal of his values. “You did this for me? I don’t understand.” He winced and I knew I’d hit the bull’s-eye. “I didn’t ask you to do this, Jacob. I never asked—”
    “No, you never ask for anything, do you, Angie?”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Nothing. As usual, I have nothing to do with anything in your life.” His focus zeroed in on an imaginary speck between his shoes as he avoided eye contact with me and shook his head, small shakes of anger and frustration.
    “Exactly how is any of this my fault?” I asked. “Are you angry because of what you did? Or because I was here to see it?”
    He opened his mouth, closed it again. This was the first time I could remember seeing Jacob speechless. He turned to shove the rest of the files haphazardly into his satchel. “I wish to hell I knew.”
    He stalked away from me.
    The door opened before Jacob reached it, and Ryder reappeared. Ryder held the door as Jacob faltered, sending a last look over his shoulder to me. My stomach clenched as if something terrible and important had just happened, but I wasn’t sure what.
    Then Jacob was gone, leaving Ryder and me alone in the cavernous hall of justice.
    Sunlight glinted through the stained-glass windows, casting red and gold diamonds on the marble floor. Ryder leaned against the heavy oak