Neal Lester held up his hand, “Uh, judge…”
“I won’t compare notes with him,” she said to the detective. “I wouldn’t interfere with your investigation or breech ethics by discussing his custody case. I just need to tell him…” Her breath caught as she turned and looked up into the other man’s face, which conveyed all the warmth of an ice carving. “Thank you for saving my life.”
The flinty gray eyes registered surprise, but the involuntary reaction lasted for only a millisecond. “The guy was a lousy shot.”
Emotion welled up in her throat. “He was accurate enough when he fired at Chet Barker.”
The implacable eyes flickered again, and this time one corner of his mouth tensed. “At that range, he couldn’t have missed.”
“He couldn’t have missed me, either, if you hadn’t done what you did.”
“How do you remember it, Judge Spencer?”
She turned to Neal Lester, who’d asked. “When I saw Chet fall, my first instinct was to run to him, but I froze when the man continued up the aisle toward me. The mask made his face look grotesque, terrifying. Mr. Hunt came over the railing and sort of tackled me.
“I confess that the next few moments are a blur. The shots continued in rapid succession. I remember thinking that he would surely run out of bullets eventually, but I thought for certain that I would be killed before he did. His last shot must have gone into the ceiling. I’ve still got plaster dust in my hair.” She tipped her head down to show them.
“The shot went wild when Crawford kicked him in the knee,” Nugent said.
She looked at Crawford Hunt. “You kicked him?”
“Reflex.”
Absently she nodded. “The next thing I remember, you were patting down my back. I don’t remember what you said.”
“I was feeling for blood. I asked if you’d been hit, you said you didn’t think so.”
“Did I?”
He gave a curt nod.
She turned to the detectives. “Mr. Hunt pushed off me. But not before telling me to stay down.”
“But you didn’t, did you?”
She replied to Lester’s question with a rueful shake of her head. “The courtroom was in chaos. People who’d heard the shots were rushing in through the rear door. Mrs. Gilroy was crying hysterically, as was the court reporter. Mr. Hunt bent over Chet. He took his gun and shouted to another bailiff to summon officers. Then he ran out the side door.”
Lester asked, “How much time had transpired between when the gunman ran off and Crawford charged after him?”
“A minute, maybe a little more. Not long.”
“What happened next?”
“I can only speak to what was going on inside the courtroom.” Glancing up at Crawford Hunt, she added, “I don’t know what happened beyond that side exit.”
The senior detective said, “We don’t, either. Not everything. We were just getting to that when we decided to take a break.”
A taut silence followed. Matt Nugent was the first to move. He dug into his pants pocket for change and started walking toward the row of vending machines at the far end of the hall. “Anyone else want a Coke? Judge Spencer?”
“No thank you.”
“Mr. Hunt?”
“No.”
“Nothing for me.” Neal Lester’s reply coincided with the chirping of his cell phone. He pulled it from his belt and checked the readout. “Excuse me.” He moved a few yards away and turned his back, seeking privacy to take his phone call, and leaving Holly essentially alone with Crawford Hunt.
Besides that being inherently awkward, his physicality was intimidating. His boots added at least an inch and a half to his height, which was well over six feet. He had appeared in court wearing well-pressed blue jeans, a plain white shirt, black necktie, and a sport jacket.
At some point since then, he’d discarded the sport jacket, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar, and rolled up his sleeves to just below his elbows. His hair was defying the slick-back treatment he’d given it only minutes ago. Straw-colored and thick, it seemed to have a will of its own.
He went to stand on the other side of the hallway where he leaned with his back against the wall and glared at her. In her view, his animosity was unwarranted.
Trying to break the ice, she said, “Are the Gilroys all right? Your mother-in-law was terribly upset when she was finally allowed to leave the courtroom after being questioned.”
“She was shaken up pretty bad. Last I talked to Joe about an hour ago, she still hadn’t stopped crying.”
“How traumatic it must have been for them.”
He gave a grim nod.
“And how is your daughter?”
Visibly he tensed. “She’s on a sleepover with a neighbor lady and her granddaughter. I thought it would be best if she spent the night there. She wouldn’t understand why Grace and Joe are so upset, and I was tied up here.”