Page 57 of Shelter for Shay
Still, she felt his gaze.
Not occasionally.
Constantly.
It wasn’t arrogance, not exactly. It wasn’t flirtation either. It was something colder. Calculated. Like he was trying to place her in the same way she’d been trying to place him.
The DA’s voice cut into her thoughts.
Jacob Donovan moved with quiet confidence, laying out the prosecution’s theory of the case. The victim, Adam Lawrence, had been Blake Edmonds’ assistant—more than that, a fixer of sorts who kept things quiet. A man who, according to the DA, had grown a conscience and was threatening to go public with something Blake wanted buried.
A motive.
The murder had taken place in the stairwell of a parking garage outside the village of Lake George. No witnesses. The murder weapon was a metal award Blake Edmonds had received a few years ago. Security footage showed the two men entering the stairwell together. Only one emerged.
Shay’s gaze drifted toward Blake again.
He looked… bored.
No, not bored. Patient. Like someone waiting for a game to unfold. And still, his gaze would land on her and linger—just long enough for her stomach to tighten and her hands to tremble faintly in her lap.
Patrick Dunn, the defense attorney, rose for his turn. He painted Adam Lawarence as a disgruntled employee with a gambling addiction. Claimed the state had no real evidence. Circumstantial. Convenient. And a clear attempt to convict a man based on reputation and wealth alone.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Patrick said, sweeping his hand across the jury box, “this trial isn’t about the man you think you see on the news. This is about facts. And I promise, when you see them in the light of day, you’ll find yourself with only one choice—acquittal.”
Shay barely heard the judge dismiss the jury for lunch.
She stood slowly, steadying her breath as she filed out with the others into the hallway. The moment her heels hit tile, she pulled out her phone and fired off a quick message to Moose.
Shay:Opening arguments are done. It’s… weird. I’ll tell you more later. Miss you.
No response.
She stared at the screen a little longer than necessary before sliding it into her coat pocket. Of course he couldn’t answer. Moose was in the middle of war games. At least, that’s what he called it. Training exercises meant to make him and his team better at their jobs.
She took that as making it so hopefully they didn’t die on their next deployment.
“Hey, Shay.”
Shay turned to see Andy Harmon leaning against the hallway wall near the water fountain, arms crossed. He was in uniform, his expression as unreadable as ever. Comforting in its familiarity.
“Hi, Andy,” she said.
“How’s it going?”
She shrugged. “Strange. A little overwhelming. I thought jury duty would be boring. This is… not that.”
Andy gave a low chuckle but kept his distance, his stance guarded. “Can’t talk about it. You know that.”
“I do.” She nodded. “I’m not trying to break any rules. Just… nice to see a familiar face.”
“You holding up okay?”
“I think so,” she said. “I mean, you sit in a courtroom long enough and the walls start closing in a little. And the defendant keeps staring at me like I’m a crossword puzzle he can’t quite solve.”
Andy’s smile faded. “Don’t read into that too much. Guys like Edmonds—high ego, high profile—they like control. Watching people’s reactions is part of that. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
She nodded, trying to absorb the advice, but it didn’t quiet the nagging discomfort curling in her belly.
