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Chapter 1 – Andi

If you preferred jury duty to going to work, there was something seriously wrong. Maybe with you, but definitely with work. I was no exception. I’d accepted this hellish alternative to my job as an HR manager for Emerald Candies in a last-ditch attempt to avoid burnout. Too many hours and too many days had flown past since my last real break. Vegging out, listening to evidence sounded like a treat.

Sitting in the jury selection room on my first day, waiting to be called, I had no one to blame except myself for my predicament. It was just my luck Ty Sheldon joined me in purgatory. Tyler Sheldon, former captain of my brother Jimmy’s high school soccer team and current bane of my existence at trivia night. What were the odds he’d be pulled into my jury pool? Out of almost a million county residents, he’d made the cut. Remembered embarrassment washed through me.

I wouldn’t be surprised if the sexy 911 dispatcher ignored my presence in the bland jury selection room, much like he ignored my existence at trivia night. I’d blame his disdain for me on our team’s winning record—if we had one.

Tall, with longish dark hair and penetrating brown eyes, the broody former goalkeeper still had the proportions of a soccer player. His powerful calves and thighs were topped by a lean upper body, filling out the simple collared shirt and slacks he wore. The bright blue shirt only served to highlight his sun-darkened skin and white grin. He and Jimmy may have hung up their cleats more than a decade ago, but Ty still looked like he could swagger out on the field.

I ignored my watering mouth, focusing on my phone instead.

Tamra: You get called yet?

For a labor and delivery nurse, my friend Tamra had no chill. She’d texted every hour. It was her day off, and she’d been pushing me to join her in her next dance class.

Andi: Not yet. Do you think it’s lucky that I’m juror 69?

Tamra: Well it’s certainly MY lucky number. LOL

I smirked. Too much information, but since she’d become one of my closest friends, I’d grown used to Tamra’s radical honesty, verging on constant overshare.

Andi: I suppose it’s better than 666.

Andi: Guess who’s here?

Tamra: ????

Andi: Ty

Tamra: Ty the Trivia Terror? No way!

I smirked at the nickname. Not exactly flattering, but not wrong either. Ty was a force to be reckoned with. It’s why I’d tried to enlist him for our team. Our cohort, consisting of nurse Tamra, writer Chase, firefighter Jimmy, and massage therapist Melena, sorely needed rounding out. On paper, we looked like we’d possess a diverse knowledge base, but Ty’s team smoked us regularly on anything news-related. My recruiting instincts were always on high alert, looking for our next teammate.

Tamra: This is your chance. Talk him into defecting to our team!

I shook my head. She had no idea how hard I’d tried. Not just to recruit him to Trebek’s Rejects, but to my bed. My teen crush on my brother’s teammate had bloomed into full-blown lust watching him spit out correct trivia answers at the bar every week. Sexy brainandsexy body? Yes, please.

I pushed away thoughts of Ty as the jury coordinator, an older man with a haircut that screamed former military, knocked on the dark wooden doorjamb, calling for our attention.

“My name is Ramon Gonzalez, and I’ll be your jury coordinator. I need the following jurors to follow me.” The gray-haired man pushed up his glasses, consulting a list before rattling off a range of numbers. I listened, hoping he’d skip right over lucky number sixty-nine.

“And sixty-nine,” he said.

The unlucky, including me, gathered our things, following the rotund man out of the jury room and down the hall toward an imposing door.

Passing through the heavy mahogany doorway shouldn’t have been intimidating.Iwasn’t on trial. But something about the gravity of the process still sobered me. I glanced behind me at the other jurors assembled from our pool. Old and young, anyone without a better excuse trailed along, expressions ranging from polite interest to boredom. I bit my tongue as I realized Ty numbered among us. He carried a canvas bag, and I narrowed my eyes. Was that pink yarn sticking out the top?

Ramon led us to benches set up along the wall. Not long after, the honorable Judge Ye was announced, and we were asked to rise. She seated us, and I noted the plaintiff and defendant tables quieted at her entrance.

The lawyers in their slick suits looked like modern-day gladiators. The defendant’s counsel, a stately Black woman in a purple pantsuit, eyed us with a friendly smile to mask her inspection. The attorney for the prosecution had a sleepy, rumpled demeanor that I assumed was all for show, meant to lull the defendant into a false sense of security. Purple pantsuit didn’t seem like she was fooled, but her client lolled back in his chair. Barely old enough to shave, his slicked-back dark blond hair and classic suit would have been more fitting on his father, but instead resembled a kid playacting being a grownup who wouldn’t even get served in a bar. I tried not to let his clothing spark any preconceived ideas about his guilt or innocence, but as he perused the line of jurors with the smallest smirk, it was hard to suspend judgement.

I’d grown adept at reading people quickly, and the defendant’s body language communicated cool arrogance. Interesting, since he was the one on trial. Too young to have much experience with the court systems, his confidence seemed misplaced. It made me wonder what kind of case we’d been called for.

The judge droned through introductions of the counsel, Ms. James represented the defendant, and Mr. Willows the prosecution.

“The defendant, Mr. Shepherd, is charged with hit and run property damage, malicious mischief, stalking, and harassment. These charges carry the possibility of jail time and fines.”

My brows rose at the list of charges. Not a simple case. Any hopes for a quick resolution, a basic DUI offense resulting in a fine, or a store burglary gone wrong, evaporated. I’d banked on a few days away from the office to rest and do something different. Not an extended absence. I bit my lip. Maybe I’d miscalculated.