Nothing But the Truth Read Free Page B

Scotch to take the edge off. Ryan leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
    With the concerns of her job blocked out, she could focus on what could really relax her. An image of a tall brunette came to mind. Brett Logan. Ryan had seen her in the halls of the courthouse many times, but she hadn’t connected the striking woman with the reputation of Ms. Logan. Too often, young prosecutors under her command came to Ryan wanting permission to kick a case because Brett had announced ready for trial and they knew their case was a dog. Ryan usually sent them packing. Bluffing should be a required class in law school. Obviously, Brett had the skill, but many young prosecutors were too scared of wrecking their stats to take a chance on a crappy case. Ryan found it interesting to learn the woman whose body she admired had a mind to match. She focused again on the image of Brett Logan, standing in the well of the courtroom. The image looked so real, Ryan felt as if she could reach right out and grab Brett’s tight, round ass. Ryan knew what would take the edge off . She reached for the phone and dialed a number from memory.
    She waited impatiently through the rings, breathing only after her call was finally answered. The voice at the other end of the phone confirmed the code word she offered and affirmed her hope that the cure she sought was available this evening. Ryan repeated the address she was given before hanging up the phone. She didn’t recognize the location. She committed it to memory by repeating it silently to herself. She didn’t write it down, look it up online, or plug it into the GPS in her car. Those were the rules, and she obeyed in both letter and spirit.
    Ryan stopped by her North Dallas home to change clothes. Not for the first time, she wished she lived closer to the courthouse, but the constituents in North Dallas were the ones most likely to get her elected, so she purchased a modest house in the bland area of the city in order to appear to be one of them. Once she arrived at her house, she took her time selecting a suitable outfit, shedding her tight braid and sharp-lined suit as she moved through her wardrobe. Ryan tugged on a pair of designer jeans and slipped into spiked, black leather sling-backs. A snug charcoal blouse with a plunging neckline, deep burgundy lipstick, and hairspray to enhance the wave of her now free hair completed her transformation. She surveyed her image in the mirror and allowed herself a wry smile. She looked nothing like the woman pictured on her official badge.
    Back in her car, Ryan pulled a map out of her glove compartment and ran her fingers along the streets, tracing her intended path. Her proclivity for following the rules mixed with the intoxicating danger of her destination to create an intense feeling of arousal. She resisted the urge to speed. She would not draw attention to herself. Not yet.
    The valet was a hulking creature dressed in tight black clothes designed to make him blend into the night. He confirmed she knew the code and watched while she stowed her purse under the front seat before he drove her car to an undisclosed location. Ryan knew if anything went wrong inside, neither she nor anyone else would ever see her car again. She walked up the sidewalk, ignoring the front door, instead veering toward the side of the house. At the side entrance, she paused before raising her hand to give the requisite knock. No matter how many times she attended these events, she always experienced a twisted knot in her belly, tied with apprehension and anticipation.
    As she moved slowly through the main living room, Ryan paused only to lift a flute of champagne from a passing tray. She had no trouble assessing the rest of the evening’s fare while on the move. She savored a sip of the dry, piercing potion. She would have only one glass. More would be risky, and, despite her presence in this place, she was averse to risk.
    Every party, no matter where it took place, was the