Harper leaned slightly closer.
“My house was broken into less than an hour after my case was dismissed.”
Maria’s face lost color.
Harper continued quietly.
“I had notes about those cases in my bedroom.”
Maria glanced toward the security camera mounted over the clerk’s counter.
Then she stood.
“Wait here.”
She disappeared through a side door.
Harper waited.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
At twelve minutes, Maria returned carrying no files.
Instead, an older woman walked beside her.
She wore a dark blue suit and an identification badge clipped to her lapel.
“Harper Freeman?”
“Yes.”
“Judge Evelyn Cross.”
Harper recognized the name immediately.
Judge Cross was the supervising criminal judge for the county.
Harper extended her hand.
Cross did not take it.
“Come with me.”
Her chambers were two floors above Brenner’s.
Unlike Brenner’s office, there were no framed photographs of politicians, golf tournaments, or ceremonial dinners.
The walls were lined almost entirely with books.
Judge Cross closed the door.
“Sit.”
Harper sat.
Cross remained standing.
“I watched part of your hearing.”
Harper waited.
“You embarrassed two officers of this court today.”
“I presented evidence.”
“That was not criticism.”
Harper studied her.
Cross moved behind the desk.
“Your analysis of the surveillance footage was correct.”
“Thank you.”
“Your analysis of the confession was also correct.”
Harper nodded.
Cross folded her hands.
“But your statement concerning automatic legal representation for minors was broader than the controlling rule would support.”
Harper paused.
There it was.
A correction.
Not humiliation.
Not mockery.
A legal correction.
Harper nodded once.
“You’re right.”
Cross raised an eyebrow.
“No argument?”
“No. The point was stronger than the wording I used.”
“Good.”
For the first time, Cross almost smiled.
Then her expression became serious again.
“Tell me about the other cases.”