Bad Behavior(129)

Wash stood over him, as if unsure whether he wanted to kick the shit out of him while he was down or yank him up and hit him in the face again. "Don't you ever talk about Caroline like that again." His voice was quiet, far too quiet. It was scarier than a full-on yell.

Kennedy darted between the men and pushed Wash away with one hand while giving him a thumbs-up where Matt couldn't see. "Wash, go."

A security guard from the metal detector station stared at us, as if unsure how to react to two attorneys fighting in the courthouse.

"Go, man. I'll take care of it." Kennedy shoved Wash back a few more steps and turned to smirk at Matt.

"I'm going to have you arrested, Wash. You fucking assaulted me." Matt's voice was distorted through his hand, and a thin trail of blood ran down his cheek.

"Oh, can it, you blowhard. I'll take you to TGI Friday's or something. Maybe a tittie bar on Bourbon? My treat. Get up. Quit crying." Kennedy waved Wash and me away as he knelt down to Matt.

Wash held out his hand toward me in a very non-colleague way. We'd attracted more than a little attention with our dustup, but Wash didn't seem to care who saw us. His eyes, the ones that had been livid only seconds before, were kind again. When he looked at me like that, with a warmth that I knew could turn to a flame of desire in an instant, I couldn't say no. I took his hand, and we left together while Kennedy promised Matt a hundred one-dollar bills and a lap dance.

Thursday morning's attorney meeting was brief and led by Mr. Palmer instead of Wash. Mr. Palmer chose Terrell to assist him in another high-profile murder case over in Lafayette. The case seemed interesting-a high school kid accused of bullying another teenager into suicide. But I was covered up with the Bayou Butcher and didn't even try to volunteer for it. 

Terrell was over the moon and started packing up his desk for his temporary relocation to the satellite office in Lafayette. I hovered around, pretending to help, but really just getting antsy about him leaving me for such a long while. We'd been more or less inseparable for the past four years.

He tossed a couple of evidence books into a banker's box and grinned at me. "Worried about who's going to hold your hair when you puke after too many drinks on Bourbon Street?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned. "That happened one time, Terrell. One. And you are still on about it, like, three years after the fact."

He threw some legal pads into the box and stood. His grin turned into the warm smile that charmed the pants off many a man. "It's going to be fine. I'll definitely be back on the weekends. And it isn't forever. Just a few months. You'll be okay. Promise."

"I know. I just worry about you, is all." I picked at the hem of my red cardigan.

"Right. Sure you do. I don't blame you for being sad. I am, after all, the most handsome man in the office. Eye candy gone. It's a pretty big blow to morale."

I smirked and looked him up and down. "I've seen it all, baby. It ain't that great."

He hefted the box and walked past me before backing up and dropping a kiss on my forehead. "Keep telling yourself that."

I laughed even though I felt like my security blanket was being ripped away.

"I'm going home to pack. But I'll call later, okay?"

I nodded. "Yes. Fine. Have a good trip out to the boonies."

"I will. See you Friday night. Don't drink all the Lynch Lane in my absence."

"Never." I planned on doing just that.

He disappeared down the hall, and I retreated to my office. I made a list of the things I needed to get done for the week, but my phone rang before I could finish.

Wash's secretary's nasal voice came over the line. "Dr. Snider called in, and Mr. Granade wants you to sit in on the phone call."

"On my way." I grabbed my legal pad and hurried to Wash's office.

I entered Wash's office and closed the door behind me. He already had Dr. Snider on speaker and was asking questions. "Is that conclusive for anything?"

"No, not yet. I've sent off the samples taken from the wooden pieces and the victims for DNA comparison. It'll be at least a week."

"No offense, Doc, but we already knew that. What do you have for me that's new?"

"I was getting to that if you hadn't jumped me on DNA results. There's a new body. Looks to be Bayou Butcher."

I dropped my pen.

"What?" Wash and I said in unison.

"Yeah, I got a call from the coroner just fifteen minutes ago asking me to consult. Dr. Russell is on vacation. I'm gearing up right now to head to the site. Bayou inlet on the other side of Pontchartrain."

"You didn't tell him we've retained you for this case, right?"

"This isn't my first rodeo, Wash." Dr. Snider chuckled. "No, I didn't say a word."