Judge & Jury - James Patterson [26]
Andie had asked for some time with the judge and finally mentioned how she had found her windshield smashed in two nights before. Judge Seiderman told her it probably wasn’t related. But that wasn’t exactly making her feel safe and secure right now.
“So, then isn’t every piece of land in the world kind of a peninsula?” Jarrod shrugged. “I mean, look at Florida. Or Africa and South America. Doesn’t everything stick out into the ocean at some point, Mom?”
“I guess.” Andie tucked in his blanket and sat brushing back his soft, light-brown hair.
“Hey,” he said, squirming, “I’m not a baby.”
“You’re my baby, always will be. Sorry, but that’s the deal.”
Andie’s hand stopped abruptly at the sound of the doorbell.
Jarrod sat back up. They both looked at the clock. It was after ten. “Who could that be, Mom?”
“I don’t know. But one thing I do know, Einstein.” She took the book from him. “It’s lights out.” She bent and gave him a kiss.
“’Night, Mom.”
Andie went into the hall to answer the bell. She turned the lock and cracked open the front door slightly.
She did a double take.
It was that FBI guy she’d noticed in the courtroom, the nice-looking one. And there was a uniformed police officer with him. No—two police officers, a man and a woman.
What were they doing here at ten o’clock?
Chapter 26
HE HELD UP his FBI shield for her to see. “I’m sorry to surprise you, Ms. DeGrasse. May I come in? It’s important.”
Andie opened the door. The FBI guy was dressed nicely, in an olive raincoat over a brown sports jacket, with a deep-blue shirt and a tie. Her mind flashed to how she must look—in a bright-pink DKNY sweatshirt, with a towel draped over her shoulder. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
“We’re sorry to bust in on you like this. I’m Nicholas Pellisante. I’m a special agent in charge of the FBI’s Organized Crime Unit. I’m heading up the Cavello investigation.”
“I’ve seen you in court,” Andie said. Then, warily, “Isn’t there some kind of rule that we’re not supposed to be talking to each other?”
“Under normal circumstances, yes.” The FBI guy nodded.
“Normal circumstances? I’m not following you. What’s happening?”
“The trial procedures are being changed. As a matter of safety, the judge feels—and I agree—it may be prudent for the members of the jury to be removed from their daily lives.”
“Our daily lives?” Andie blinked. What did that mean? She ran a hand through her messy hair.
“The judge would like the jury sequestered. I don’t want you to be alarmed. There’s no specific threat. It’s just for your protection.”
“My protection?”
“Yours and your son’s,” the agent said.
Now Andie was alarmed. “You’re saying there have been threats?” Her mind flashed to the windshield of her car. “This is about what happened the other night.”
“I’m not saying that,” the agent said. “There’s an officer outside who can assist you.”
“Assist us with what, Agent Pellisante?” A tremor galloped down her spine. “I have a nine-year-old in here. What do I do with him while I’m being protected? Pack him off to boarding school?”
“Look, I know how this sounds, and I know how short notice it is. We’ll make provisions that you get to see your son regularly, for the balance of the trial.”
“The balance of the trial!” Suddenly the magnitude of this smacked Andie face-on. “We’re only in the first week. This isn’t exactly what I signed up for, Agent Pellisante.”
The FBI guy looked sympathetic, but also helpless to do anything. “I’m afraid it’s not a matter of choice.”
Her blood was pulsing. She could have gotten off this trial just the other day. “When?” Andie looked up at him. Then she realized what he had meant by the officer waiting outside.
“I’m afraid, right now. What I have to ask you to do now is to go pack some things.”
“You’re kidding!” Andie stared at him, glassy-eyed. “My son’s in bed in the other room. What am I supposed