Page 51 of Shadow Justice

Blue sat beside Linc’s chair, vibrating with hope. Linc looked down at him. “You’re larger than the last time I saw you.”

Blue wagged.

“And probably no wiser.”

“Boy, is that the truth,” Holly said.

Linc broke a tiny piece from the edge of his muffin and held it between two fingers. Reid opened his mouth, likely to protest, but Holly put a hand up.

“I’ve got a substitute.” She pulled a biscuit specifically made for dogs who came to the shop patio from her pocket and handed it to the judge. “Lemons aren’t good for dogs, but he can have this.”

Blue accepted the biscuit with reverence.

Linc gave Reid a dry look. “The dog and I understand each other.”

“You both like to eat things that aren’t good for you,” Reid said.

“It was a treat, not a felony.”

Holly sat across from Linc. The kitchen looked almost the same and not the same at all. The curtains had been replaced. A calendar with church suppers and medical appointments hung where Coraline’s recipe cards used to be pinned. The table had new scratches. The chair where Roni used to sit and kick Holly under the table now had a cushion.

Time had been here, moving Linc’s life by inches.

He ate half the lemon muffin before speaking again. “Roni says you’ve put my grandson to work.”

Holly glanced at Reid, who stood near the counter with his coffee. “Temporarily.”

Linc’s eyes narrowed slightly, not with disapproval, but with the old courtroom habit of listening to what had not been said. “Didn’t realize coffee shops required Navy lawyers to clean tables.”

“They require people who can refill napkins and follow instructions,” Holly said. “He’s adequate at both.”

“High praise from you.”

“She keeps me away from the espresso machine,” Reid said.

“She’s always been sensible.”

Holly took a sip of coffee to hide the warmth that rose at the familiarity in his voice. Linc had always treated her as if she belonged to the house when she was inside it. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed being spoken to that way.

His attention moved between them again, lingering when it came back to her. “Everything all right at the shop?”

Holly’s fingers tightened around her mug. Reid answered before she had to.

“Busy,” he said. “A lot going on.”

Linc’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s a lawyer’s answer.”

Reid’s mouth flattened, and Holly saw the careful line he walked. While he might have liked to pick his grandfather’s brain about what was happening, he didn’t want to worry him. He certainly didn’t want to pull Linc into something dangerous. Holly understood both instincts, though she could tell Linc did, too, and resented being handled.

Reid set his coffee down. “I met someone who knew you yesterday. Do you remember Allen Davies?”

Linc had been about to take a drink. His hand paused. It lasted only a second, maybe less, but Holly saw it.

“Allen Davies,” Linc said.

“He recognized me as your grandson. Said you believed in the letter of the law.”

Linc leaned back in his chair, lemon muffin forgotten. The sharpness in his eyes changed, pulling away from the kitchen and into a courtroom Holly had never seen. “That sounds like Allen. He was a prosecutor when I was on the bench.” Linc picked up his coffee, then set it down without drinking. “Ambitious, smart as a whip, but in the end, too certain that being right made procedure optional.”