Page 76 of Crash Course
She bumped him with her shoulder. "It was worth it."
Five minutes later, dinner plan for tomorrow secure, they approached her car in the garage. For ease, she paid for a reserved space on level one because she didn’t want to be lugging files to the roof when she couldn’t find a parking space after hearings.
"It’s not an awful walk," Cruz said.
"Not at all. That’s why I like the reserved spot. If I’m in a hurry, I can be here in four minutes. Yes, I’ve timed it."
Cruz laughed, then gestured to the briefcase. "Where do you want this?"
"Back seat is fine."
She clicked the unlock button on her key fob and opened the driver’s side door, tossing her purse on the passenger seat.
Out of the corner of her eye, something yellow registered and she glanced at the windshield. Envelope. Tucked under her wiper blade.
She backed out of the car and reached around the frame just as Cruz shut the back door.
"What is it?"
Slipping the envelope from under the blade, she held it up. "I don’t know."
The edge of her finger caught something hard and she ran her thumb over it. "It feels weird."
"Cilla, the whole thing is weird, unless people randomly leaving envelopes on your car is normal."
"Not normal, per se. But, with what I do, people send tips in many ways."
Threats, too, but she wouldn’t mention that.
Maybe whatever was in the envelope might help with one of her cases. She tore the top off the envelope and peeked inside.
Was that?
She tipped the envelope over, dumping the contents into her free hand.
One lone bullet shell.
"What the fuck?" Cruz breathed.
"This," Cilla said, forcing air through her nose as pressure built in her chest. "Not normal."
"I fucking hope not. Is there a note?"
Still holding the bullet, she peered inside the envelope. "Nothing."
Her mind reeled. Over the years, she’d received a handful of threats that turned out to be just that. Hateful e-mails and packages from desperate folks hoping to scare her into throwing a case. Which did nothing but piss her off.
And now, a bullet. Just as she was about to start another murder trial.
Terrific.
"Nine-millimeter," Cruz said. "Why would someone put this on your car? And please don’t tell me it's what I think it is."
"I believe," she said, "it might be a scare tactic. It happens."
He gawked. "It happens? What the fuck does that mean?"
"I practice criminal law. Some people don’t like that. I occasionally receive threatening mail." She gestured to the bullet with her free hand. "And apparently bullets."
