She took up the conversation in a lofty voice, as though she were speaking to a brute who had been brought to heel. “There wasn’t a policeman at the door. I merely walked in.”
He’d hardly been brought to heel. “Someone gave you the room number. Who was it?”
“Is this off the record?”
“It sure as hell is not! I intend to go straight from here to the hospital and read the staff the riot act.”
“Then, I’m sorry, Mr. McKee. I never, never, reveal my sources. You should know that that’s the unwritten creed of any reporter who values his credibility.”
He was quaking with rage, and Kari knew the exhilaration of triumph. She had him right where she wanted him. He was tasting humiliation and frustration and was powerless to defend himself against them. Wasn’t that how she had suffered when he accused Thomas of wrongdoing?
But she was soon to learn that Hunter McKee wasn’t a defeated foe. Not yet. He took a step toward her, until their clothes were brushing together. He was as close as he could come without actually touching her. Those intriguing eyes homed in on her mouth and stayed … and stayed. At last he said softly, “You’re asking for trouble, Kari.”
His eyes remained on her mouth. She refused to move away and give him the satisfaction of knowing that this intent inspection disturbed her greatly. Unable to bear it any longer, she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I’m not afraid of you,” she said huskily.
The corner of his mouth twitched with the need to grin. Then his eyes lazily strayed up to hers. When they collided, her stomach dropped.
“I think you are.”
Without another word, he left.
“You’ve got a real tiger by the tail this time.”
Hunter, sitting at his desk, his feet propped up on the corner of it, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, don’t I know it. Jury selection was bad enough.”
He and Guy Brady had been poring over briefs and legal tomes for hours. It was late and he was tired. He swung his feet down and stood. He stretched, arching his back as his fists dug into the small of it.
“Of course the judge’s ruling is a break for us. We can try that kid as an adult,” he said.
It had been a month since the Hopkins incident. Hopkins never came to trial. After extensive psychiatric tests, he was judged by several doctors as being mentally unfit to stand trial. He was committed to a state hospital on the condition that if he was ever released, he could be tried for the murder of his wife.
This case was just as touchy. Hunter had no choice, other than releasing a killer back into society, than to go all the way with it.
Guy frowned down at his scribbled notes. “Some social-conscience groups are gonna raise hell. Why does he have to be just sixteen?”
“In years he’s sixteen,” Hunter said, playing devil’s advocate. “He’s far older than that in experience. Have you read his arrest record? It’s as long as my arm. Petty theft, burglary, robbery, assault, vandalism, possession of controlled substances, possession of a lethal weapon. This is not your ordinary sixteen-year-old high-school kid. Since he was nine, this kid’s been in trouble. He’s been a violent crime waiting to happen. It finally did.”
“He’s pleaded self-defense. That’s a helluva hard thing to prove.”
“And that’s the defense’s job. I think the coroner’s report is a definite plus for our side. Is it conceivable that he stabbed his father forty-three times if he didn’t intend to kill him?” From an assortment of vending machine junk food lying on the table, Hunter picked up a Twinkie, studied it dubiously as he unwrapped it, then bit into it. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s open and shut. I’ve questioned the boy, studied the reports. He’s amoral.”
“But defense will come back with the low socioeconomic level of the family, the crowded home, the irresponsible mother, the abuse the boy suffered from his alcoholic father, the—”
“You ought to join the Kari Stewart camp,” Hunter commented dryly. “I can just hear her now.”
Guy chuckled. “She’s really got it in for you.”
“Yeah, and this trial is going to be right up her alley. It will give her all the ammunition she needs to make me come out the villain. I hope to God no one else thinks I will enjoy getting a conviction on that kid. It’s necessary. That’s what I’m paid to do.”
Hands shoved into his pockets, he went to the window. A late evening rain had washed the downtown streets. They reflected traffic lights in blurred ribbons of red and white. It was still coming down, rain mixed with sleet now. Hunter’s gaze crawled over the skyline to the WBTV broadcast tower.