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killed.”
    “So could in discretion. Like in Halcon.”

Chapter 3
    z
    H olly’s attention was drawn to the end of the hallway when a door was opened and Crawford Hunt strode through. Looking disheveled and angry, he glanced at her but said nothing as he walked past on his way to the men’s room.
    “They’ll be wanting to talk to me now,” she said to her assistant, who had refused to leave her alone while waiting her turn to give her statement. “Thank you so much for staying, but go on home, get some rest. Tomorrow will be a circus, I’m afraid.”
    “But, Holly—”
    “There’s no telling how long they’ll keep me.”
    “I can stay indefinitely. You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
    Marilyn Vidal had been of the same mind when she was notified of the shooting. She’d been prepared to drop everything and make the drive from Dallas to be with Holly, who had discouraged her from coming. “I’ll call when and if I need you. Right now, it’s rather chaotic.”
    “I thrive on chaos.”
    That was true enough, but Holly won the argument. Marilyn stayed put but had ordered Holly to keep in touch, particularly if she was required to issue a statement to the media. “Before you say anything into a microphone, run it past me.”
    Dennis, her former boyfriend, had also called on the office line. Mrs. Briggs had spoken to him, assured him that Holly was bearing up well, and agreed to notify him in the event her status changed or if there was anything he could do for her.
    However, Holly hadn’t been without a coterie of supporters. In a town of only twenty thousand, word of the shooting had spread rapidly. Judge Mason, the administrative judge of the district, had been in the neighboring courtroom at the time of the shooting, so he was immediately at Holly’s side. A few friends she had made since moving to Prentiss had rallied around her, aghast over what had happened and eager to help in any way they could.
    Most of the time they had been left waiting while she was being interviewed by police. But it had been a comfort just knowing they were accessible if she needed them. Eventually they’d seen the futility of hanging around and had made their departures.
    Mrs. Briggs was the last holdout. “I’ll be fine,” Holly assured her now. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll request a police escort home.”
    “You absolutely should. And call me if you change your mind. I’ll come over at any hour.”
    Before leaving, she got Holly’s promise to do that, although Holly knew she wouldn’t be summoning help. It had been a horrific experience, but the culprit was dead. All that remained for her to do was to give her formal statement, and then the ordeal would be over.
    In the coming days, Greg Sanders would be watching to see how she responded to the crisis situation and how quickly she recovered from the trauma of it. If she showed any signs of cowardice or weakness, he would gleefully expose it.
    Following Crawford Hunt out of the interrogation room, Matt Nugent and Neal Lester made their way down the hallway toward her. They had interviewed her in the Family Court immediately following the shooting, but to record her formal statement, they had asked that she come downstairs to the ground floor where, like the SO, the city police department was also headquartered.
    She stood up. “My turn?”
    “I’m afraid not, Judge Spencer,” Neal Lester said. “We’re only taking a break. We’ve got a lot more to cover with Mr. Hunt.”
    “I see.”
    “I know this is a hardship after what happened today. We’ll get you out of here as soon as possible.”
    “I understand.”
    “One question, though. The suspect’s name hasn’t been released because we’re having trouble locating next of kin, but his driver’s license identifies him as Jorge Rodriguez. Ring a bell?”
    “No.”
    “Not surprising,” Nugent said, looking happy to have something to contribute. “He had a Texas driver’s license, but