The Distraction by Sierra Kincade

surprised.
    â€œKeep him off Davis Island.”
    I was 99 percent sure Alec wouldn’t try to confront Maxim Stein, especially where he lived. Maybe 98 percent sure. That would have been bad for everyone.
    But that didn’t mean Maxim wouldn’t try to contact Alec.
    My frown etched deeper. That would be just as crazy. It would totally jeopardize the upcoming trial. But Maxim had been desperate enough to protect himself that he’d allowed Bobby to kill someone to prevent his secrets from getting out. I didn’t put it past him to try something.
    â€œNothing’s changed for Alec,” Terry continued. “He’ll still be the key witness. The only witness, unless Calloway has a change of heart and flips in prison, which I doubt will happen.”
    â€œWhy?” I asked. Bobby didn’t exactly seem like martyr material.
    He stuck his thumbs into the front of his belt. “I’m sure there’s some deal in the works where he gets a cushy cell and a weekly conjugal so long as he keeps his trap shut. Stein would have made sure to take care of him in exchange for his silence.”
    So Alec was still going to have to testify, but I was safe. I didn’t feel safe. I felt like I needed to find the nearest storm shelter and curl up into a tiny ball.
    â€œMaxim Stein had a secretary,” I said. “Ms. Rowe. Surely she would know something.” She might be able to help corroborate Alec’s story, take some of the pressure off of him.
    â€œMissing,” said Terry. “Disappeared the night of MacAfee’s murder. I think the FBI put a search out for her.”
    I pictured the shapely brunette with her flawless appearance and icy demeanor. She’s been cool under pressure and well organized, and I had a hard time believing she’d split without a specific plan in place.
    Before I could stop myself, I imagined Bobby running her off the bridge, the same way he’d done to Charlotte.
    â€œCheer up,” Terry said. “This is good news. Once the trial’s over, you can put this all behind you.”
    â€œThe date hasn’t even been set yet.” It was out there looming before us, this vague, ambiguous thing that was supposed to fix everything. I wanted to believe it would, but I couldn’t help but feel doubtful.
    Because Terry was starting to look a little worried, I forced a smile, but it probably looked a little scary.
    â€œSo if you’re not here for that, what brings you to the courthouse today?” he asked.
    â€œI’m volunteering.” My voice sounded small. Terry was right, Bobby’s confession was good news. I should have been doing cartwheels down the middle of Florida Avenue.
    I cleared my throat. “I’m volunteering,” I said more clearly. “For CASA.”
    â€œCourt-appointed Special Advocates?” he asked. “Hard work. You ever done that kind of thing before?”
    â€œA while ago,” I said, referring to a previous career in social work and a burned-out stint in child welfare.
    When Terry said the work was hard, he didn’t mean the hours or that it was particularly complicated. He meant that it came with an emotional burden, the kind that was hard not to take home at the end of the day. I knew this, which was why I had decided to start out slow, take one case at a time. If I did well, I’d look into re-upping my social work license. If not, I could finish out my one client—the one I was meeting for the first time today—and move on.
    â€œWell good for you,” said Terry. “Your dad’s proud, I’m sure.”
    I’m sure he would have been, if I’d told him. The truth was, I hadn’t told anyone, not even Alec or Amy. I wanted to make sure I could hack it first.
    Terry held the door open for me as we stepped through the glass doors into the busy main lobby. Signs for different specialties pointed right and left, just beyond the metal