Friction

Crawford said to him, “You see anything hinky, Pat, you signal me.”

 

 

“Sure thing. Where will you be?”

 

“Right over there.” Crawford tipped his head toward the periphery of the media cluster. But before he could move away, Marilyn Vidal hooked his elbow and steered him to the lectern. “You stand here.”

 

He wanted to ask just who the hell she thought she was to order him around. But he was aware of all the onlookers as well as the live microphone. Besides, although he hated being in the spotlight, he was glad to be standing close to Holly, on her right and slightly behind her. From that position he could survey the crowd.

 

The din subsided as Marilyn Vidal stepped up to the microphone. She introduced herself and thanked everyone for coming on short notice. “Despite the harrowing incident that occurred in Judge Holly Spencer’s courtroom on Monday afternoon, she wanted to address you this morning. Some, including myself, tried to dissuade her from appearing publicly so soon after an attempt was made on her life, but she insisted that I call this press conference.

 

“She’ll make a statement, but I’ve refused to let her take questions.” She raised her hands to stave off the murmurs of disappointment. “You’ll have your chance with her at a future date. I promise. Without further ado, I’ll turn the podium over to Judge Spencer.”

 

Holly took the campaign manager’s place at the mike. She also began by thanking the reporters for being there. “The incident in the courtroom was harrowing. I think I speak for everyone who was there that we feared for our lives. Tragically, we who work here in the courthouse lost a highly regarded colleague, Deputy Sheriff Chet Barker.”

 

She went on to commend him and underscore that he’d sacrificed his life in the performance of his duty. “What occurred afterward on the roof was an additional tragedy. But the man who was mistaken for the gunman in the courtroom did fire twice upon a uniformed officer, and this after having been ordered several times to place his weapon on the ground. There’s been a lot of speculation about what went wrong and who was to blame. But I want to go on record as saying that I owe my life to Texas Ranger Crawford Hunt.”

 

Crawford, stunned by the statement, cut his gaze over to her, but otherwise didn’t move.

 

“Had he not reacted swiftly and without any regard for his own safety, the number of casualties could have been much higher. Many more could have fallen victim to the man who was later killed by the SWAT officers, or to the individual who eluded capture and remains at large. I want to publicly express my gratitude to Ranger Hunt now.”

 

She turned and extended him her right hand. He looked down at it, then into her eyes. He took her hand, gave it two abrupt shakes, then dropped it, all the while maintaining his rigid stance while photographers’ lights exploded like fireworks.

 

Holly turned back to the microphone and began addressing something that her opponent had alleged, but anger had deafened Crawford to what she was saying. He had no choice except to hold his temper until she wrapped up. Fortunately, the rest of her remarks were brief.

 

As she stepped away from the podium, the harridan with the bad hair stepped forward to congratulate her on how well she’d done. Neal, who was standing outside the circle of policemen guarding the lectern, was rushed by several reporters asking questions about the progress of the investigation.

 

Marilyn Vidal planted herself in front of Crawford. “You were fantastic. No conceit, no false modesty. Perfect. Let’s go have a drink.”

 

“’Fraid not.” He curled his hand around Holly’s biceps. “There’s an urgent matter that I need to discuss with Judge Spencer.”

 

He gave neither woman time to protest before turning Holly around and marching her toward the hallway off the lobby where the restrooms were located. Realizing that they were being watched, she went along without protest, acting as though she’d expected to be led away like a child being placed in time-out.

 

Pat Connor had followed them. When they reached the hall, Crawford told him, “Keep everybody away from here.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

He propelled Holly forward until they were at the end of the corridor, where she pulled her arm free of his grasp and faced him. “I know what you’re going to say.”

 

He bent down and whispered, “What the fuck? That’s what I was going to say.”

 

“I know you’re angry. I knew you would be.”

 

“Which is why you didn’t tell me or Neal or anybody else about this press conference beforehand.”

 

“If I had, you would have said no.”

 

“Damn right.”

 

She took a breath for both of them and continued in a less heated manner. “I was against exploiting any aspect of the incident and had made that clear to Marilyn. But this morning’s reports about Rodriguez changed my mind. The slant was critical toward you.”

 

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