Take a Chance on Me by Susan May Warren

hated the fluorescent glow and kept the overhead off but had plundered a standing lamp from the reception area to spread light over her shoulder and onto the mess of papers scattered on her L-shaped desk.
    Her cursor blinked on an evidentiary brief she was reviewing for tomorrow’s hearing.
    Ivy forced a smile and debated warming up her coffee, maybe finishing the sandwich she’d ordered from the Blue Moose Café. “I’ve reverted back to my days as a clerk, I guess. Getting up at 6 a.m. for class, working at the firm at night. I think I lived on coffee and Hot Pockets.”
    “Daniel said you were his top assistant prosecutor down in Anoka.” He smiled, kindness in his eyes. “I have no doubt you can handle this.”
    A burn filled her throat at the mention of Daniel Wainwright, her mentor/boss/friend. “Daniel might have been overly optimistic about my abilities.”
    “I always considered him a great judge of character and ability. If he believed in you enough to offer you a junior prosecutor position out of law school, then I believe I hired the right person.”
    She blinked away a rush of heat in her eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Teague.”
    “DJ. And I miss him too. The cancer took him too quickly.” He leaned forward. “You weren’t the only one to sit under his teaching.” Ivy could feel the quote before it came. “‘You hold justice in your hands. Treat it with respect.’”
    She nodded. “I hear him in my head sometimes, even after a year.”
    He laughed. “I hear him in my head after ten years. But I found that everything he said was spot-on. Especially in a small town like Deep Haven. Everyone is watching you here. You have to keep your word and earn their trust one case at a time and never, never abuse your power.”
    “I wouldn’t—”
    “Of course not. But justice to one person looks like favoritism to another. This may be the hardest job you ever have.”
    “I want to get this right. I’ve dreamed of living here ever since . . .” She grimaced. “Well, since the Jensen Atwood case.”
    “It was your memo that called for a departure from sentencing guidelines and set up the plea agreement.”
    “Yes. I still remember the day Thornton Atwood passed it to me—in fact, he gave it to an associate, who gave it to me. Truth was, I didn’t know I was doing research on his son’s case. He told me to find a way to get the defendant out of jail time. I slaved over that memo, looking for precedent. Daniel was one of my law professors at the time; he read the piece and thought it was a slick bit of legal work.”
    “And you didn’t worry about the ethics?”
    “Why? Atwood wasn’t representing the case, and I didn’t evenknow Jensen. To be frank, I thought it was a teaching exercise until I saw it on the news after I turned it in.”
    “You didn’t see the headlines?”
    “I was clerking and going to law school. I didn’t watch television.”
    DJ nodded. “Daniel told me you were one of his shining stars.”
    Shining stars. Oh, she missed him.
    DJ picked up a file and paged through it. “Jensen still lives here, you know. Still working on his hours. Mitch O’Conner is his probation officer. His office is just down the hall.”
    “I saw Jensen the other night at the VFW. Nearly said hi, but he doesn’t know me.”
    “Probably better that way,” DJ said.
    “Why?”
    He frowned and slowly shook his head. “He might not thank you for what you did. It hasn’t been easy to live here.”
    “And going to jail would have been better? Listen, Deep Haven should be happy they got anything on him. At least justice prevailed.”
    “Justice can take many shades, especially in a small town.” He put the file back on the stack. “In this job, you get to know your friends, your neighbors, and as their lives weave together with yours, the lines become blurred. You have to always be thinking of conflict-of-interest issues. You get to know the darker side of the community, your