Page 4 of To Have and to Hold

“And you are the poop nugget that prosecutes.”

“Love it. Keep going.”

Knox’s phone dinged, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Knox,” he said as he answered. His brows creased the longer he listened. I stopped paying attention, instead turning to Marks’s folder and hoping to find some semblance of a nugget—preferably golden and not shitty—in my evidence for this afternoon. It appeared Cerise Watts was a wash, but that didn’t mean my other witnesses were worthless.

“Uh-huh,” Knox said in the background. “Sure. I’m up at court in Manhattan so can be there in ten or fifteen. Yep.” He clicked off.

“Wish I could continue, brother, but I gotta jet,” Knox said as he stood.

I glanced up. “Please tell me you’re off to locate the hidden clue in my case that will blow my defendant’s ass wide open.”

“Don’t be a lazy fuck.” Knox pulled open the door. Ringing phones and light chatter from the busy cubicles in the main section wafted through. “Possible kidnapping-in-the-past in the financial district. I’m off to collar new Hershey squirts.”

“Luck be with you,” I muttered, but Knox’s new case had already floated out of my mind. I was back to studying Max Torro’s public displays of anger and what I could do with a guy who beat and tortured women for sport.