Shiver : 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror

Copyright © 2014/N.M. Silber

Proofed by Proofing Style, Inc./Marla Esposito

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

NOTICE: This is an adult contemporary romance novel and contains EXPLICIT descriptions of sexual acts and mature language. It is intended for readers over the age of eighteen.

Chapter One

“So, how’s it going, honey?” my best friend, Jess, asked as soon as I answered my cell phone. I watched as a sheriff escorted a six-foot-five leprechaun away in handcuffs.

“How’s it going? I’m in Night Court in Philly. That’s a nightmare under the best of circumstances. Throw in the fact that it’s Halloween and there’s a full moon tonight, and you have the makings of a bad horror movie. Part sixteen.”

“At least your hottie hubby is there with you, and you two only have one case.”

“Correction, we only had one case. Judge Epstein appointed us to several other cases, because the place is hopping, and she didn’t want us to feel left out. By the way, that one case we were here for, do you remember the charge?”

“Disorderly Conduct? What about him?”

“He admitted to being in the U.S. without a visa.”

“Oh no, an illegal alien …”

“He’s originally from the planet Nebulon Six.”

“Is that anywhere near Tijuana?”

“One galaxy over.”

“What are the other cases like?”

“Would you rather hear about the guy whose file says he died in 1905, or the guy who I think might be a vampire?”

“They’re two different people? Is anyone on your caseload human?”

“Mr. Harris, the shoplifter is back. This time they caught him with three bags of candy corn, a gallon of spiced cider and about 500 miniature Snickers bars in his pants.”

“Well, it is Halloween, honey.” She sighed. “I suppose this means you and Braden won’t be joining the party anytime soon. I’ll send someone else out for ice.”

“Probably a good idea.” I looked up at that moment and saw my tall blonde husband stalking across the courtroom to question a witness, and it made me shiver in a good way. “You know, I have to admit, that even though this is like punishment for doing something bad in a former life, seeing Braden being commanding in a courtroom again, makes it much more bearable.”

“Uh oh, there will be no sexy deliberations in the jury room for old time’s sake. The quicker you get out of there, the quicker you can find a more private place to examine his briefs. Besides, nobody wants to make an ice run.”

“I’m overwhelmed by your sympathy.”

“Have fun! Say ‘hi’ to Mr. Harris for me, and thank him for helping me to stick to my diet.”

“Later.” I clicked my phone off and took a deep breath, steeling my nerves. Before my husband and I had founded our own legal non-profit, I'd been a public defender here in the City of Brotherly Love, so this wasn’t my first time at the rodeo. Nevertheless, tonight was already shaping up to be a whole new level of crazy.

“Mrs. Pierce,” Judge Debra Epstein, originally of Bayonne, New Jersey, shouted across the courtroom, “what’s going awn with Mowrk from Owrk?” She was such a delicate snowflake.

“Mr. Smith went to get a drink of water. He isn’t feeling well, Your Honor,” I explained.

“Well, go get him and tell him it’s time to take him to your leader, counselor!”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I replied as my husband caught my eye and gave me an amused, but sympathetic, look. Even amused sympathy looked sexy on Braden. I headed for the hall, but before I exited the courtroom, Mr. Smith, my interstellar client, returned.

“I need to get out of here,” he said with a desperate look.

“We all do, Mr. Smith.”

“No! You don’t understand! This atmosphere is toxic.”

“I do understand. I had to work this courtroom for a whole month once.”

“Counselor!” Judge Epstein bellowed, in case I'd forgotten.

“Coming Your Honor!” I bellowed back. I was from New York. I could bellow. “We are not helping your case by keeping her waiting. Let’s go.” I turned and headed to the bench with E.T. right behind me.

“Mr. Brenner, what are the charges?” Judge Epstein glared at the handsome dark-haired, young prosecutor standing next to me. She was an equal opportunity Gorgon.

“Disorderly Conduct, Your Honor. However, since the defendant confessed to being in this country illegally, we were obligated to inform the INS. We’re still waiting for an agent to arrive.” He sighed and shifted his weight to the other foot. Poor Mr. Brenner. He had obviously pissed off somebody in his office. Assigning a young guy, barely out of law school, to Night Court on Halloween had to be a malicious act.

“Ha! You’re waiting for a federal employee to show up in Night Court on Halloween! That’s rich. I hope you brought a snack. Call the next case!”

“Judge!” Mr. Smith broke in. “The gravity …”

“I’m glad you realize this is serious. Now go sit down and contemplate.” She banged her gavel and gave him a gaze that would have withered a lesser alien.

“You don’t understand,” he tried again undaunted, clearly unfamiliar with Judge Epstein’s species. “The level of gravity where I come from is significantly lower. If I don’t get out of here, I may implode.”

“Yeah, you and me both, honey. Mr. Brenner, I don’t have all night! Move it along!” She banged her gavel again for good measure, narrowly missing the fingers of her clerk who was placing a file in front of her. I noticed that he had a nervous twitch, and I wondered whether or not that would be covered under Workmen’s Compensation.

“I’m warning you,” Mr. Smith said, giving me an earnest look, “if I don’t get back to the Mother Ship soon, it will be very ugly.”

“Look, Mr. Smith. I’m doing the best I can here, but the federal government is not noted for the speed of its response even during normal business hours. I wouldn’t exactly expect them to race down here at,” I glanced at my watch, “eleven-thirty PM on Halloween night because some guy from Nebulon Six doesn’t have the proper visa.”

“I’m not trying to be difficult, Mrs. Pierce. I’m merely letting you know that there could be green innards all over the floor in here if I don’t get out of this gravity.”

“It won’t be the first time, I’m sure, Mr. Smith. Now, go have a seat and I’ll let you know as soon as immigration gets here.”

I turned and headed for the defense table to get the file for my next case. Braden was there shuffling through some papers. Even after a year of married life, the sight of him still made my pulse race. He was big and blonde, like a Norse God, and he could do things to my body that sent me to another planet. Braden took sexy to illegal heights.

Back in the day, the two of us had been known to engage in some very interesting negotiations in various locations here at the criminal courts building. Ironically, though, now that we worked together, we hardly ever appeared in court at the same time. I had almost forgotten how seeing him so cool, confident and in control could melt my panties and make me want to be a bad girl.

He looked up and I saw his eyes darken. He gave me his hot Braden sex look, and I was tempted to throw myself down on the defense table in front of him and plead for mercy. The fact that we could turn each other on with just a look, while standing in the middle of Philly Night Court, was a testament to the volcanic level of sexual chemistry we had.

“Hey, Mr. Pierce,” I said in what I fancied to be my sultry voice.

“Mrs. Pierce, have you come to make a motion?” He gave me a cocky smile.

“I don’t know that we would have a chance to fully reach a resolution. The pace here is pretty frantic.” One thing I didn’t need was the pressure of trying to reach the Promised Land before Judge Epstein started bellowing somewhere nearby.

“She has to take a recess eventually. Nobody can sustain that much wrath for too long without a break. I’ve already spoken to my two clients, so I’m free and ready to engage in some private negotiations anytime you are.”

“I’ve spoken to both of mine too. If she calls a recess of at least half an hour, you’re on. In the meanwhile, while we have a moment, let’s compare notes.”

“Okay, for round one, I have this Mr. Marley, charged with trespass and prowling at night,” he said picking up a file and furrowing his brows. “He’s odd.”

“No, really? Imagine that,” I commented, dryly.

“I mean odd even for Philly criminal court,” he clarified.

“How so?” I leaned against the table and looked up at my handsome husband. There were still moments that I couldn’t believe that a clumsy, socially awkward woman like me, had charmed a gorgeous, sexy, guy like him. Braden loved me, though, quirks and all. In fact, I suspected that he loved me because of them.

“It’s weird, I can’t put my finger on it exactly, something about the way he talks, and the way he’s dressed.”

“He’s wearing a suit,” I noted, looking up at the gallery, where people sat waiting for cases to be heard. Mr. Marley was staring at a wall as if he were watching it do something. Okay, I could see Braden’s point.

“Yeah, but it’s the cut of it …”

“The cut of it? What are you, his tailor?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, looking sheepish. “It’s probably my imagination.”

“Oh wait, he’s the guy whose file said that he died in 1905. So, there you go. He’s odd because he’s been dead for over a century.”

“Yeah, right.” Braden rolled his eyes. “They still haven’t gotten that straightened out by the way. His case is all messed up. It’s listed on the docket for October 31st, but the year of his trial is also listed as 1905. There must have been some glitch in Records.”

“Either that or he’s a ghost.”

“Well then, I should introduce him to them.” Braden gestured at a team of guys in black t-shirts and ball caps who were laying wire and setting up some kind of equipment.

“Who are they? They don’t look like the Maintenance Department. For one thing, they’re not sitting in the lobby eating doughnuts.”

“Don’t you recognize the Spirit Hunters Team from television? They’re here to try to capture paranormal activity.”

“Well, they’re in the right place. Nothing here is normal.”

“How’s your close encounter of the annoying kind going?”

“Mr. Smith has an urgent need to return to the Mother Ship as soon as possible. He has warned me that Earth’s gravitational pull might result in him imploding into a puddle of green slime.”

“That would suck.”

“Yeah, especially since nothing involving Night Court is urgent to the Feds. It’s going to be a green bloodbath.” I nodded. “How about your other case?”

“Delores Crowley? She’s a strange woman who does creepy things.”

“Have small children mysteriously gone missing in her yard?”

“Nah, she’s charged with Disorderly Conduct, and Terroristic Threats.” He glanced at the file he was holding. “Oh, and, uh, littering.”

“Glad they tacked that on there. God forbid, a disorderly litterbug walk free. What’s her story?”

“She’s an exorcist.”

“Who did she threaten, Satan? And more importantly, will he be testifying?” You needed to have a sense of humor in this business. And alcohol. It was also important to have alcohol.

“Testifying for the Commonwealth will be Mr. Evan Drake. You’re going to love Ev. Trust me. He’s such a winner.” Braden smiled.

“Even better. Speaking of people who you would never want to bring home to meet mom, my other client is Mr. Bates. There’s something really creepy about him.”

“How so?’

“He has a weird way of staring at you, and he’s so pale and still.”

“What’s he charged with?”

“Abuse of a corpse. He’s an undertaker’s assistant.”

“That last one might be the biggest reason he’s creepy. Just sayin’. ”

“Yeah. I should introduce him to Mr. Marley. He likes dead people.”

Just then Judge Epstein summoned Braden, so I decided that I would chat with the Crypt Keeper some more. He was sitting in the only shadow in the entire courtroom. It figured. I grabbed his file and headed in his direction.

He was a tall, thin, pale guy with beady eyes and a hawk-like nose. He looked like the love child of Monty Burns from The Simpsons, and Riff Raff from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. What a cutie.

“Mrs. Pierce.” He had the bubbly voice of a spokesmodel. Okay, not really, he sounded like he looked, which was like the Grim Reaper.

“Mr. Bates, we’re just waiting for your case to be called. The docket is very full this evening,” I explained in case that fact had eluded him.

“It’s the full moon,” he replied, eyes widening. A wolf cry echoed from somewhere in the distance, or it might have been Judge Epstein.

“You know, I think that’s true,” I agreed. “It seems like the full moon really does bring out all the crazies. Oh! Uh, no offense.”

“None taken.”

“So let’s go over the facts of the case once again. This was just a mistake …” I had never heard that one before.

“I had moved the object in question …”

“That would be Mr. Peterman?” I interrupted.

“It would be the mortal remains of Mr. Peterman. It’s kind of a funny story.”

“Hey, with a dead body involved, how could it not be?”

“I’m assigned to the night shift at the funeral parlor.”

“And Mr. Peterman gave you a ride to work?” I joked. He didn’t look amused. I had a feeling that he blended in well with the other corpses. Who knew that funeral parlors even had a night shift?

“Philadelphia is a scary place at night.” He had to be kidding.

“Were you planning to use Mr. Peterman as the Neighborhood Watch? Wouldn’t someone less dead have been a better choice?”

“I was worried that someone might steal my car.” Someone might steal his car? Hold on a second. I looked down at my file.

“That would be the 1998 Geo Metro?”

“It’s a classic. I thought that maybe if the car looked occupied …”

“And you were going to put Mr. Peterman in your car so that he could act like some sort of scarecrow?” Oh I couldn’t wait to tell Judge Epstein this one.

“Exactly.” An evil grin spread across his crooked mouth and I cringed at the sight of his jagged yellow teeth. He looked like a shark, a really creepy shark. Jinkies Scooby! “What else would I have been doing with a dead body? I wasn’t planning to take him home to meet my mother.” He burst onto a fit of laughter that could only be described a “diabolical.” It sounded like “bwahahahaha.” I wish I were kidding. I inched back a bit further. I didn’t want to think about what else he could be doing with a dead body.

“Okay, then. And if for some wacky reason, that perfectly reasonable explanation doesn’t fly with Judge Epstein, do you want me to try to negotiate a guilty plea or request a trial date?”

“Eh. See what they offer.”

“Gotcha. Okay, see you soon.” I smiled and got up to leave. The moment I turned my back I rolled my eyes. I caught sight of Braden again. Judge Epstein had called his case with Ms. Crowley, who was dressed in every color imaginable. She looked like somebody threw up a rainbow. I think the look she was going for was Sideshow Fortuneteller chic. I decided to pause to watch. I had a feeling it could get interesting.

“What are the charges Mr. Brenner?” Judge Epstein, for once didn’t bellow. Maybe she recognized Ms. Crowley as one of her own.

“Disorderly Conduct, Terroristic Threats and Littering.”

“I assume that the defendant has not waived the preliminary hearing, because that would make my life too easy.”

“That’s correct, Your Honor,” Braden replied with a smile. God, I loved him.

“Are the Commonwealth’s witnesses present, Mr. Brenner?” she asked with a glimmer of hope shining in her steely eyes like a glint on the edge of a dagger.

“They are, Your Honor,” he replied, and the light was extinguished.

“Let’s get this show on the road then. Nothing like the intricate legal challenge of a littering case.” The attorneys and Ms. Crowley resumed their seats at opposing counsel table.

“The Commonwealth calls Mr. Evan Drake.” A guy in tight pants and a T-shirt that said, “Hello, my name is Stud,” stalked up to the witness stand. As he passed by, I saw that the back said “Kiss me before my girlfriend gets back.” Ah, there was nothing like a manly man with a fabulous wit. He looked like a real catch. The kind you throw back. He was sworn in and stated his name and address for the record. He could even spell it. Who knew?

“Mr. Drake,” Mr. Brenner began, “do you recognize that woman?” He looked over at the defense table.

“Yes I do,” Ev spat back in a whiny voice. “That’s the woman who threatened me.” He seemed like the type who was threatened by women in general. I could tell already that Braden was right; I was going to love Ev. What intelligent woman with self-respect wouldn’t?

“Let the record indicate that the witness has identified the defendant, Delores Crowley. And do you recall seeing Ms. Crowley on the night of September 23rd of this year, sir?”

“Yeah. She was trying to get into my friggin’ apartment. Not that she would be the first chick to try that.” He snorted and flexed. Oh my, what a turn on. Someone stop me from tossing my panties at his feet.

“Would you please explain what you mean? About her trying to get in, that is.”

“I live in a two unit building. I’m on the first floor. Anyway, that wackadoo, ‘Steven,’ who lives above me, had that woman come to his apartment for some mumbo jumbo party.” He made sure to lisp as he pronounced his neighbor’s name. Wow, a homophobe too. He was getting sexier by the minute. Somehow, I thought that Ev had a smaller unit than Steven.

“What do you mean ‘mumbo jumbo party’ Mr. Drake?” Mr. Brenner asked.

“She came in and I heard furniture moving around upstairs and moaning coming from Steven’s place. Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of moaning coming from my place on any given night, but this was different.” Ev sat back and gave us all what I’m sure he thought was a cocky grin, but in reality, it was more like a dicky smile. Judge Epstein was looking at Ev like one would look at a bag of burning dog pooh.

“What happened?” Mr. Brenner asked, clearing his throat and grimacing. He looked like he had eaten some bad dip.

I noted that Mr. Brenner and Mr. Drake resembled each other physically. They were both tall, dark haired guys in their mid-twenties. But, while I could understand Mr. Brenner being popular with the ladies, I couldn’t help feeling that a woman would have to be desperate, or clinically brain dead, to even have a one-night stand with Ev.

“What happened was that the lights went out and came back on a few times and the air conditioning went on the blink. Then the next thing I knew, they were pounding on my door.”

“What did they want?” Mr. Brenner leaned against the prosecution table and crossed his arms.

“Steven said that the crazy chick was an exorcist and she was ‘cleansing’ the house.” He made little air quotes and rolled his eyes.

“What happened then?”

“She started mumbling and moaning. She sounded like she had been on a bender, you know? Then she pointed at me! That nasty bi … woman, said that I was full of bad energy. Can you believe that garbage?” He looked up at Judge Epstein imploringly. Her head was cocked to the side as she squinted at him. I think she was wondering if evil might be inhabiting Ev. My money was on him being possessed by the spirit of a 1970’s B-list porn star.

“What, if anything, did you say in response?” Mr. Brenner went on.

“I told them to get out of my friggin’ apartment but she said that I was the reason that our building was cursed. Can you imagine, somebody saying that I brought them bad mojo?”

“Hell yeah!” yelled some woman from the gallery.

“Order,” Judge Epstein said sternly, but I saw her smile a little.

“She said your building is cursed?” Mr. Brenner went on, glancing up almost apologetically at the woman. Clearly, he agreed with her.

“Like I said, the lights go on and off and we’ve got problems with the heat and the air conditioning. It gets really cold in some rooms, and hotter everywhere else. That’s not a curse though. It’s a cheap-ass landlord who doesn’t want to hire anybody to fix it.”

“What happened after you told them to get out?”

“Steven told her they should go because I wasn’t going to cooperate. Damn straight I wasn’t. But that nut wouldn’t leave. She kept insisting that I was the reason that our building was cursed, and she had to do some kind of exorcism and ‘cleanse’ my apartment. She was just after some extra cash. I know how these people work.”

“What happened then?”

“She started chanting some BS about returning to where I came from. I told her I came from Jersey, and she could go back to the nuthouse.”

“Did she leave?”

“No, and I tried to slam my door in her face, but she started yelling, ‘to hell with you.’ So, I yelled, to hell with you too lady! I felt threatened — in fear for my life, you know?” Oh please! I rolled my eyes.

“Did she do anything else?”

“Yeah, she dropped garlic cloves and salt all over the place.”

“No further questions.”

“Cross examination.” Judge Epstein grumbled.

“Mr. Drake,” Braden said, standing to his full six-foot-three-inch height and striding up to the witness stand commandingly. Ev shrunk back a little. “Isn’t it true that when Mr. Steven McKenna and Ms. Delores Crowley showed up at your door you opened it willingly?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You weren’t in any fear at that point, correct?”

“Not at that point, no.”

“Ms. Crowley never laid a hand on you at any point during this interaction, correct?”

“Nah, but she’s a chick, so she probably thought about it.” He started snort laughing. Braden stared. He stopped snort laughing.

“She never said she would harm you in any way, right?”

“She said ‘I order you to leave.’ That sounds like an implied threat to me.”

“Your Honor …” Braden began.

“Answer the question he asked you,” Judge Epstein snapped and Ev gave her a wounded look.

“She never actually said she would harm me, no,” he answered petulantly.

“And you testified that you yourself were yelling, correct?”

“Yeah, but she yelled first.”

“Other than the garlic and the salt, she didn’t drop anything else on the floor did she?”

“No, but that was plenty. It smelled like a friggin’ pizzeria in there.”

“No further questions,” Braden returned to the defense table. Most of the women, and a few of the men, watching from the gallery, sighed collectively. Have I mentioned how sexy my husband is? A cry echoed from the back of the room, “The EMF reader is going off the scale! Folks, we have paranormal activity!” a guy in a black T-shirt shouted. Another guy, holding a stick that seemed to light up spontaneously, headed toward Ev.

“Objection Your Honor.” Mr. Brenner was on his feet.

“I’m being threatened again!” Ev whined.

“We’re the Spirit Hunter Team,” the guy with the stick explained. “Your Honor, the witness in this case seems to be surrounded by an electromagnetic field. That could be indicative of paranormal activity.”

“What?” Judge Epstein screeched incredulously.

“This man is possessed,” a second Spirit Hunter announced as he ran a little gadget up and down near Ev’s body.

“I told you!” Ms. Crowley called out and Braden warned her to be quiet.

“We should probably get a sample, Ernie,” said the guy with the stick.

“A sample of what?!” Ev broke in.

“We’re going to need a sample of a body fluid,” the guy with box answered. “What do think, Burt, mucus or spit?” Ev looked helplessly at Mr. Brenner, but he seemed to be momentarily stunned.

“Okay, enough!” Judge Epstein banged her gavel. “You can’t just interrupt a case like this. I know President Judge Feeney said you could shoot in here, but you cannot stand in the way of justice. And there will be no spitting either.” She looked purple and veins were sticking out all over the place. It was like a scene from that old horror movie Scanners.

“Oh, uh. Sorry, Your Honor,” Ernie apologized sheepishly.

“We can wait and get the sample later,” Burt added. “He’s probably going to want to find a good exorcist, though.”

“I’ve got a special going right now,” Ms. Crowley called out.

“How much?” Ev asked. Suddenly, he was a believer.

“Work this out later!” Judge Epstein screeched. “Is there any argument?”

“Well, Your Honor …” Mr. Brenner began.

“Case dismissed!” She slammed down her gavel. “Five minute recess.” With that she flew off the bench with her black robe billowing. She looked like a giant vampire bat. Ev went off to talk to his new friend Ms. Crowley, and I went over to talk to Braden.

“Have I told you lately how sexy you are?” I asked him quietly.

“So, you want to get sexy with me?”

“In five minutes?” I laughed.

“That’s long enough for me to cop a feel. It will build anticipation.”

“Where do you want to go?” I asked coquettishly. He contemplated for a moment, and then grabbed my hand and led me out of the courtroom. We headed down the hallway and around a corner into a cavernous room, lit only by the dim glow of vending machines. “What, are you in the mood for a three year-old Milky Way?” I joked.

“There’s a dark corner behind the machine with dubious looking sandwiches, and the pickles shot full of chemical waste. Nobody will ever venture over there.” He had a point.

I felt naughty as we snuck over into the corner, stepping over cables and wires along the way. He backed me against a wall and put his hands on my bottom, pulling my hips against him and then he leaned down and kissed me hungrily. I sighed and slid my tongue against his. Kissing Braden would never get old. His mouth was so warm, wet and wonderfully minty, and his tongue was alternately teasing and demanding. I could happily make out with him all night.

One hand slid from my bottom up over my hip, tracing my curves until he arrived at the swell of my breast beneath my blouse. Braden was a boob man, and luckily for us both, I had a pretty nice rack. He cupped and lifted with his palm and brushed his thumb over the tip, sending shivers down my spine. His mouth moved to kiss my neck and whisper in my ear.

“Wait until I get you home tonight. I’m going to do bad things to you that will make you feel so good.” His tongue traced the edge of my ear and I moaned quietly and ground my hips against him. I could feel a bulge pressing against my abdomen that was filled with decadent promise.

“Uh oh, you’re indisposed. What are you going to do about that?” I ran my hands up his back, thoroughly enjoying the way his hard muscles tensed under my fingertips. I began gently biting his neck.

“For now I’ll walk it off and think about baseball,” he mumbled against my throat, pinning me against the wall with his hips and making me tingle from head to toe. “Later tonight I’ll give it to you.”

“Oh, baby.” I giggled and writhed against him. I was starting to get lightheaded. A moment later, though, I heard Mr. Brenner calling my name from somewhere down the hall. Great. Braden sighed, collected himself, and stepped back, strategically buttoning his suit jacket in front.

“I think you’re needed back in court.” His voice was a little husky.

“Yeah, I guess so. Well, here we go.” I steeled my nerves, straightened my shoulders and prepared to return to the trenches.

“Round two.” He smiled.

Chapter Two

When we returned to the courtroom the Spirit Hunters gang seemed to be conferring about something exciting. Maybe they had found intelligent life here. Nah.

“Uh oh, I don’t see Mr. Marley anywhere. I had better go hunt him down,” Braden said, heading off in the other direction to do some spirit hunting himself. I saw Mr. Brenner head my way with a determined look on his face and a file in his hand. Great.

“Hey, Mrs. Pierce,” he said. “What’s going on with Norman Bates?”

“That’s Nathan Bates,” I corrected him.

“Right, sorry, Nathan Bates, the body snatcher.” He smiled.

“You have an offer for me?” I asked hopefully. He grimaced and shifted his weight from foot to foot. That didn’t look like a good sign.

“Mr. Peterman’s family is very upset about what he went through.”

“What he went through? You’re kidding me right? Mr. Brenner, Mr. Peterman is dead. It’s not like he cared about his little trip around the block.”

“Your client was absconding with their dead relative, to go do, God knows what. I kinda get where they’re coming from. Don’t you?”

“What are you trying to tell me here, Mr. Brenner, that you’re going to make me try this stupid case? Oh come on. Just tell the family about how the system works, how we rely on plea bargains to keep things moving along, so that live people can have their day in court.”

“I’m not going to make you try it. Your client can always just plead to the charges as filed and let the judge craft an appropriate sentence.”

“Are you serious? Let delicate Debra up there have at him? She’ll sentence him to be racked and boiled in oil. And then she’ll make him do community service and pay a fine too.”

“Now, Mrs. Pierce, you’re not implying that Judge Epstein would be unnecessarily harsh with Igor over there are you?” He was trying hard not to laugh.

“I’m so glad you find this amusing, Mr. Brenner,” I answered, trying not to laugh myself. I wasn’t succeeding very well either. Both of us were on the verge of cracking up. This was just so freaking ridiculous.

“I’m sorry, counselor, but the office policy these days is that if the family strenuously objects, we don’t offer a deal anymore, even in Night Court on Halloween.” He gave me a boyish look that probably melted plenty of panties. “I really am sorry.” I had a feeling that Mr. Brenner was a ladies’ man like my Braden had been back in the day. I think the DA’s office recruited them right out of law school. They were like their not-so-secret weapon.

“Well, I hope you enjoy our defense, Mr. Brenner. It should be very entertaining.” He nodded and covered his mouth with his fist. As he turned around to leave, he nearly ran into one of the Spirit Hunters, who was coming up behind him.

“Hello, there. I’m Ernie, and this is ….”

“Burt!” I broke in gleefully as his partner approached. Three other guys in matching T-shirts brought up the rear. I noticed for the first time that their shirts had a picture of a ghost and the letters S.H.I.T. on the front.

“Spirit Hunters Investigative Team,” Ernie, who had noticed me noticing, explained. I nodded silently and Mr. Brenner actually bit down on his knuckle at that point. At least somebody was having fun.

“Did you have something to tell us?” I prompted.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, we felt that we should let someone know, we’re picking up some really weird stuff.”

“You should be fine as long you’ve had your shots,” Mr. Brenner replied.

“No, on our equipment!” his partner, Burt said, looking excited. “We’re picking up definite signs of an infestation.”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure they sprayed,” Mr. Brenner added.

“He means we think there may be a malevolent entity here,” one of the guys in the background piped up, “but we’re not really sure it’s intelligent.”

“I thought Mr. Drake left,” I said to Mr. Brenner,

“No, he’s out in the hall having a pow wow with Delores in the Technicolor Dream Coat,” Mr. Brenner answered.

“Not him. He’s just a minor inhuman,” Burt offered.

“Those were my thoughts exactly,” I said with a smile.

“This is major spirit activity. The epicenter seems to be right in that spot right there,” Ernie said, turning around and pointing to precisely the place that Mr. Marley had been seated before he had vanished. Thunder clapped in background and lightening lit up the sky at that exact moment. Okay, not really. But if this had been a movie, that’s what would have happened.

“That spot, really? That’s where Mr. Marley was sitting,” I said to Mr. Brenner.

“Who was sitting there?” he asked.

“My husband Braden’s client, Mr. Marley. You know, the guy who supposedly died in 1905?”

“I don’t have a Mr. Marley. Edna must have him on her caseload,” he answered, referring to Edna Manson, the other prosecutor, who was working the room.

“Edna must have who on her caseload?” said a hardened-looking, Assistant District Attorney who happened to be walking by at the moment. She pushed a lock of jet-black hair out of her face, revealing a jagged scar and a charming sneer.

“Mr. Marley? He’s charged with trespassing and prowling at night?”

“Oh right. That’s just an administrative case, though. It was never closed, and we just have to figure out what to put in the file.”

“Why did you make him show up for that?”

“Make him show up? What are you talking about? The guy died in 1905, right here in this courtroom as a matter of fact.” Her mouth curled into a nasty grin, and I noticed that she had rather pointy teeth.

“From what, old age?” I asked, looking at my watch. There were going to be lots of warm drinks at Jessica’s Halloween party.

“He had a heart attack just as they called his case,” she answered in her gravely, three-pack-a-day lilt. “That’s why it was never resolved.” She cracked her knuckles.

“What are you talking about? He was sitting right over there,” I said, inching back. Edna was a little creepy.

“In the epicenter!” Ernie looked like he might wet his pants.

“We might be talking vortex,” Burt replied. He and Ernie gazed at each other like they had just struck gold. They darted off to go play with their lights in the spot Mr. Marley had been occupying with the entire S.H.I.T. following close behind. Well, at least I was fairly sure they could get a sample of some body fluid over there.

“It must be a mistake,” Edna said dismissively. She was such cynic, but she was a regular in that courtroom. Her spirit had probably died in there a few decades ago too.

“The date must be wrong,” I suggested. “Maybe he had a heart attack recently, but he survived. That’s probably what happened.”

“I work this courtroom all the time. I would have remembered that.” Edna paused and seemed to give it some thought. “Probably.” She didn’t look like she was so sure.

“Well, I’m telling you, there was a Mr. Marley, who must have known the facts of the case, because Braden discussed it with him,” I insisted. I had just been kidding around about him being a ghost. This night was getting weirder by the minute.

“I don’t know what to tell ya.” Edna shrugged and ambled on. Judge Epstein’s clerk called Commonwealth vs. Bates. Mr. Brenner and I glanced at each other resignedly and headed up to the bench. When we got there, I turned to see if Mr. Bates was coming, but he had been standing silently right behind me. I yelped and jumped about a foot in the air, putting a hand over my racing heart and blowing out a ragged breath. I turned around and saw Judge Epstein’s glare and jumped again. I had to get out of there or I was going to develop a nervous condition.

“What are the charges Mr. Brenner?” the judge growled.

“Abuse of a corpse, Your Honor.”

“Charming. What, no littering charge you can tack on?”

“I’m afraid not, Your Honor,” Mr. Brenner answered.

“Please tell me that you’ve reached an agreement on this,” she said, dropping a couple of Alka Seltzer into a glass of water and taking a big belt of it before it had even finished plop-plopping and fizz-fizzing.

“I’m afraid not, Your Honor,” I echoed, throwing a baleful look at Mr. Brenner to let her know whose fault that was.

“Your Honor, the victim’s relatives …” he began.

“The victim?!” Judge Epstein screeched. “The victim is a corpse!”

“Nevertheless, Your Honor …” Mr. Brenner looked like he might be in pain.

“Oh …” she grumbled something unintelligible. “Get them up here!” Mr. Brenner sighed and headed off to find the late Mr. Peterman’s relatives. I turned around and saw that Braden was watching. He gave me a supportive smile. I smiled back and reminded myself that he was going to make my body an epicenter of pleasure later.

A couple of minutes went by, and Mr. Brenner returned with a guy who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else and a woman who had such an angry, pinched look on her face; she made Judge Epstein look like Betty White. She was clutching a purse in front of her body like a shield, and I wanted to tell her it wouldn’t work in here. This whole place was like Kryptonite. She looked up at Riff Raff and a vein started pulsing on her forehead. Yikes. She made Edna look like Betty White.

“Your Honor,” Mr. Brenner said with another heavy sigh, “on my left is Mr. Irv Peterman, brother of the deceased. And this, is Mrs. Gladys Peterman, widow of Sid Peterman, who Mr. Bates took for a stroll.” Suddenly, I felt sorry for Mr. Brenner, and the late Mr. Sid Peterman.

“I want that sicko locked up!” Gladys shouted, waving her handbag at my client.

“Off the record!” Judge Epstein yelled back, glaring at the stenographer who immediately stopped typing and looked up at her in shock like a deer in headlights. She must have been a sub. “Mr. Brenner, what are the facts of the case?”

“During the early morning hours of October twenty-fourth of this year, in the city and county of Philadelphia, undercover vice squad officer, Jason Gallagher, observed Mr. Norman, uh, sorry,” Mr. Brenner cleared his throat, “Mr. Nathan Bates, dragging the mortal remains of Mr. Sid Peterman down the sidewalk on the fifteen hundred block of Broad Street. When Officer Gallagher ordered Mr. Bates to stop, he instead picked up Mr. Peterman and hurled him at Officer Gallagher, who ducked out of the way.” Mr. Brenner paused and looked up significantly. “I will note, Your Honor, that the Commonwealth has not added a charge of aggravated assault on Officer Gallagher.”

“Why not?!” Gladys shrieked, and the glass of Alka Seltzer on the bench shook.

“Order!” Judge Epstein banged her gavel, shaking the glass harder. Nobody was going to out-shrew her in her own courtroom. “Counselor,” she said, glaring at me, “why was your client taking a dead guy out for a midnight stroll in North Philly?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could get a word out, Gladys chimed in again, “He wanted to have sex with him!” We all turned and looked at her in confusion.

“I’m not a homosexual!” Mr. Bates piped up. We all turned to look at him in confusion. Gay? He was worried we would think he was gay?

“Your Honor,” I answered, ripping my gaze away from Mr. Bates and shaking my head to clear it, “my client was concerned with the rate of car theft in the area. He felt that if he stored Mr. Peterman in his car, that it would act as a deterrent to car thieves.”

I wondered if that explanation sounded as stupid as I thought it did. When several people waiting in the gallery broke out in laughter a moment later, I got my answer. Yep. It sounded as stupid as I thought it did. I looked up at Judge Epstein and winced. Somehow, I didn’t think she was really onboard with Mr. Bates’ anti-car theft strategy. She just sat there, glaring. Why wasn’t she saying anything? I started to sweat and shifted my weight to the other foot, waiting for her to crucify me.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said finally.

“Tonight, or in general?” I asked. Brenner coughed and quickly turned away to cover up his own laughter. Judge Epstein actually looked amused for about a millisecond. Gladys, however, would not be thwarted.

“I’m telling you. He wanted to have sex with Sid! I know about these narcoleptics. I saw it on the Discovery Channel.”

“And God forbid that Sid have sex for once,” the live Mr. Peterman spoke up. I had forgotten he was there. “It’s Gladys’ mission in life to make sure my brother never gets laid. Even in death.” He shook his head in obvious disgust.

“I’m not gay!” Mr. Bates yelled again. Apparently, the possibility that he might be a necrophiliac, or a narcoleptic for that matter, didn’t seem to bother him, as long as we knew that he was heterosexual.

“Why did you toss Mr. Peterman at Officer Gallagher, Mr. Bates?” Judge Epstein asked my client.

“It was North Philly at night and some guy dressed like a deadbeat, no pun intended, ordered me to stop. I was scared!” It said something about North Philly that the guy carrying the dead body was scared.

“It's true, Your Honor, that Officer Gallagher wasn’t in uniform, but he did identify himself as a police officer,” Mr. Brenner offered.

“And I was supposed to believe him?” Mr. Bates asked, sounding incredulous. “You know what kind of crazy people are walking around out there these days?”

“All right! Enough already!” Judge Epstein broke in. “That explanation is so stupid that I actually believe it.”

“You do?” I asked, wondering if I had heard her wrong.

“Yeah. I do. But he still couldn’t just walk out the door with a dead body. Charge him with Receiving Stolen Property. Did he spend the night in jail?”

“Defendant served 24 hours, Your Honor,” Mr. Brenner answered.

“Time served. Fines and costs.” She banged her gavel.

“Wait a minute! That’s it?” Gladys screeched.

“That’s it!” Judge Epstein snapped back. Her clerk handed her a paper, which she quickly read. “Half hour recess!” she called out and got up to leave. The minute she was gone, the lights seemed to get brighter.

As I escorted Mr. Bates off to meet with a deputy, who would take him to fill out his paperwork, Braden walked over to the courtroom door and gestured subtly for me to join him. I smiled with anticipation, and followed.

We walked down the hall casually. I was about to turn the corner toward the vending machine room, when Braden steered me in the other direction. “Where are we going?” I asked, looking up at him, intrigued.

“For a trip down memory lane,” he answered with a smile, and I saw that he was headed for the District Attorney’s on-site office suite.

“We can’t do that in there anymore,” I said coyly, feeling my tummy flutter at the memory of how we had utilized the negotiation rooms back when Braden was a prosecutor and I was a public defender.

“I asked Mr. Brenner earlier if he would mind if we discussed a case in there privately, and he said it was no problem.” He held the door open for me and I walked inside. Thankfully, we were the only ones there. “I think that he may have suspected, though, because he did remind me that the negotiation room doors don’t lock.”

He led the way down the hall to the furthest room, and then stepped aside to let me pass by. I went in, flipped the light on, and turned to face him. I immediately recognized the look on his face, and my breathing quickened in response, as my pulse shot up. The hot Braden sex look always did me in.

“Just like old times,” I said in a husky voice.

“Watching you in court always turns me on,” he said crossing the room in one stride and pinning me up against the wall. He began trailing kisses up my neck and along my jaw. I sighed happily and buried my fingers in his hair.

“Watching that case turned you on? What are you a narcoleptic?” I teased and he laughed, which tickled my neck deliciously.

I pulled his mouth to mine, and took the initiative, letting my tongue explore freely. Suddenly, I wanted to make this beautiful man, whom I loved so much, feel really good. I grabbed that sexy ass of his, and ground my hips against him, reveling in how hard I could make him so quickly. I pushed him back and undid his trousers. Giving him a naughty smile, I dropped to my knees as he placed his palms flat against the wall to brace himself. “Oh yeah,” he said, his voice vibrating with arousal, as I freed him from his boxers.

Looking up into his eyes, I leaned in and ran my tongue teasingly around his tip, and then gripped him at the base, and slid him into my mouth until he hit up against the back of my throat. He let out a low groan that sent a surge of tingling warmth flowing between my legs. Exciting him excited me.

I knew what he liked and I gave it to him, twisting my fist as I pumped up and down, lightly scraping him with my teeth as I pulled him out of my mouth and sucked him back in, swirling my tongue along the sensitive underside, and then finally, reaching down between his legs to gently cup and squeeze his balls. Suddenly, he grabbed my head and held me still.

“Stop,” he bit out in a low, thick voice. “Ladies first.” I knew that making me come was important to Braden, and I wasn’t about to deny either one of us. I eased him out of my mouth and he helped me to my feet. It was his turn to drop to his knees.

He looked up at me with those eyes like the blue part of a flame, and eased my skirt up over my hips, tugging my panties down around my ankles and helping me out of them. He lifted my right leg, hooked it over his shoulder, and began trailing kisses along my inner thigh above the lacy top of my stocking.

I felt his warm breath caress me intimately a moment before his tongue did, and I gasped and leaned back, feeling the cool concrete press against my skin through the fabric of my blouse. His tongue lapped against my entrance, teasing me, and making me ache for him to fill me up. I whimpered and grabbed his hair, pressing myself harder against that silky mouth. The strokes he made grew broader, as he inched higher and higher. My muscles felt as tight as piano wire, while I waited with anticipation for the explosion of pleasure that I knew was seconds away.

The sounds of my rasping breath, and my low moans, echoed off the walls. He was still moving higher, getting so close, almost there. I was starting to shake, and then the velvety wet heat of his tongue rolled over my throbbing clit, and the leg supporting me gave out. He held me up in place with a steel grip at my waist, never even pausing, as he continued to drive me out of mind with his talented mouth. The ache grew so intense that I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to feel him inside me.

“Braden, please. Oh God, please Braden,” I begged in desperation, my voice rising in pitch. He knew what I wanted.

“Shh,” he warned and I felt him smile against me. He eased my leg down, stood up, and took me into his arms, guiding me toward the center of the room. “Do you think you can be quiet?” he whispered in my ear and I nodded mutely. I tended to be a rather noisy lover, but I had gotten better over time. “Bend over the desk, I’m going to take you from behind,” he instructed firmly, and I almost swooned.

I nodded again and leaned across the desk, feeling him ease my skirt up higher and caress my bottom. His fingers slid between my legs, stroking me, and testing to make sure I was ready for him. Mother Nature had blessed Braden abundantly, and he was always careful not to hurt me. His fingers withdrew and I felt his hard length slide up against my wet heat. I braced myself.

“I’m ready,” I mumbled thickly, and he positioned himself to enter me, grabbed my hips, and slid home. I softly sobbed with pleasure and held onto the edge of the desk. “Yes.” I gasped. “More.” He rubbed my back with one hand and started talking to me in a low, seductive voice, while he pulled back and pushed into me harder.

“Baby you’re so sexy, so confident. I love watching you.” He pulled back again and thrust forward, filling me completely. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry out. “Love how strong you are, so beautiful. You get me so hard.” He started building his rhythm while he told me how much I excited him. God, I loved it when he talked to me like that while he took me. Braden and I knew just what to do to make each other feel good.

I got lost in sensation, somehow feeling every inch of my body, while at the same time, so intensely focused on the pleasure that flowed from between my legs, where he was pounding into me, up into my belly. I was dizzy with it, floating on a wave of bliss, and then I felt the delicious pressure begin to build and my tummy got tighter. I started to climb quickly, losing control of my body, half out my mind with ecstasy.

“Oh God. Oh God. Braden. Oh God!” My legs stiffened and I went over the edge as my inner muscles contracted forcefully. He knew I was coming, and he started pumping his hips harder and faster. The waves of heat crashed over me and I clenched against him over and over, shivering and moaning with orgasmic delight.

He slammed into me one final time and I felt his fingers dig into my skin as ground out “Gabrielle,” groaned, and went still. A few seconds passed with only the sound of us breathing heavily before he pulled back and eased me up, turning me around and pulling me into his arms as he leaned on the desk. We stood there holding each other while we recovered.

He looked down into my eyes. “It’s not just in court. I love watching you.” He paused and began to stroke my hair. “I love you.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat.

“I love you too, Braden. I can’t even express how much.”

“Let’s get pregnant,” he said, watching my reaction carefully.

“I think our half hour’s almost up,” I joked.

“Not now.” He laughed. “Even though I’ve always loved these sexy courthouse trysts of ours, I don’t want our child to be conceived in Night Court. Why don’t you make an appointment with your doctor? We’ll find out the healthy way to have you off the pill.”

“You’re serious,” I said, feeling a tingling down my spine and a nervous flutter in my tummy.

“Yeah, I’m serious. We’ve been happily married for a year. Adam and Lily are already trying,” he said, reminding me that two of our closest friends had decided that they wanted to start a family.

“But, what about our practice? We’ll be short two lawyers if both Lily and I are out on maternity leave.”

“Drew will be graduating in May,” he said, mentioning his younger brother who was in his last year of law school. “We can afford to take on more staff.”

“Do you think we’re ready to be parents?”

“We’ve done a great job with Bruno.”

“Braden, Bruno is a Chihuahua.”

“He’s very well grounded for a Chihuahua. It’s a high-strung breed.”

“Okay.” I smiled.

“Okay? You mean …”

“Okay, let’s get pregnant.” I smiled. “Just not in Night Court on Halloween.” He smiled back and pulled me into a tight embrace. I hated to let go of him, but I knew we didn’t have a choice. I also knew that I would be falling asleep in his arms that night, and waking up with him the next morning. As we tidied ourselves up, I looked at him, feeling love warm me. He had that look of sleepy post-coital euphoria that I adored.

“You look like you need a nap,” I teased as I pulled my panties back on and pulled my skirt down over my hips.

“Yeah. I hope the rest of this night goes quickly,” he said as he refastened his trousers.

“Get ready for round three,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Chapter Three

When we got back into the courtroom, Mr. Brenner informed me that an agent from the Immigration and Naturalization Service had finally shown up, and that, as an added bonus, he had brought an agent from the Department of Homeland Security with him. He pointed out a bland-looking guy in a blue suit, who stood next to a bland-looking woman a blue suit, who stood next to a stack of papers that they must have brought in with a wheelbarrow. I took a deep breath and the two of us went over to brief Uncle Sam.

“Hello, I’m Matt Brenner, from the Philadelphia District Attorney’s Office. This is Gabrielle Pierce, who represents Mr. Smith.”

“Mike Fisher from INS. This is Susan Brooks from the Department of Homeland Security. We understand you have a foreign national here charged with a crime.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s a foreign national, more an interplanetary visitor.” I smiled.

Mr. Fisher looked at Ms. Brooks. Then both of them looked at Mr. Brenner. I had a feeling they didn’t have much in way of a sense of humor, or possibly a pulse.

“He’s in need of a psychiatric evaluation,” Mr. Brenner explained slowly, in case the words were too big for the Stepford agents, “But apparently, the fact that he claims to be from another planet, is enough to trigger a federal investigation.”

“Well, he’s going to have to fill out some paperwork,” Ms. Brooks offered in a monotone voice. Interestingly, I noted that she actually kind of resembled the paperwork piled next to her, at least in personality.

I decided to give it a try, “Folks, what Mr. Brenner is saying, is that Mr. Smith isn’t really from another planet; he’s mentally ill. He needs to go to a hospital.”

“He’s still going to have to fill out the paperwork,” Mr. Fisher replied and I sighed. Okay, they wanted Captain Kirk to fill out paperwork, that was fine with me. I went off in search of Mr. Smith. I found him in the vending machine room, talking to a beverage dispenser, and I led him back to meet Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dumber.

When I got back to the courtroom, it was immediately clear that there was some kind of situation going on. A group of deputies were meeting with the Spirit Hunters Team. Burt was gesturing wildly and the rest of them were nodding. I didn’t see Ernie anywhere, though. I led Mr. Smith over to the government think tank, and tracked down Braden to ask him what was going on.

“Is there some sort of crisis in the spirit realm?” I asked.

“Ernie is missing.”

“Missing?” I raised an eyebrow, inquisitively.

“Missing. He went off to retrieve some equipment and he never came back. I’m thinking that maybe he’s with Mr. Marley, who is also still MIA.”

“Oh hey, that reminds me, Edna Manson said something weird.”

“That’s not really surprising. Edna Manson’s pretty weird in general, Gabrielle.”

“Yeah, she is kind of creepy,” I agreed, “but listen to this, she claims that Mr. Marley’s case is just supposed to be administrative, because Mr. Marley died of a heart attack before it could be resolved.”

“What?” he asked turning to look at me. “He was sitting right over there, in the vortex area. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Wait, it gets better. This fatal heart attack happened in, you guessed it, 1905, in this very courtroom.”

“Yeah, right,” Braden replied skeptically. “What is this a horror movie?”

Suddenly, as if on cue, the lights went out, leaving us in total darkness. There was a second of silence, and the room filled with sounds of chairs scraping and falling over as people started yelling. The lights immediately came back on. Everyone froze and stopped yelling. The lights went back off. They started moving and yelling again. They came back on! Back off! Back on! That happened three more times, until finally everyone just shut up, and they came back on and stayed on, illuminating a bunch of bored, pissed off looking people. At that moment, the courtroom doors flew open and there was a sudden explosion of color. It was Delores Crowley. She was running up the aisle toward the bench.

“He’s here and he wants justice!” she cried, waving her arms like she was trying to land a 747.

“Who wants justice?” Judge Epstein asked with a scowl. There wouldn’t be any justice in her courtroom, dammit.

“The one who died,” Ms. Crowley answered. “I need an empty vessel.”

“Have you met Ms. Brooks and Mr. Fisher from the federal government?” I asked helpfully. Suddenly a blast of cold air came shooting down from the ceiling, blowing their enormous stack of papers all over the courtroom. Coincidence?

“The EMF meter is going off the scale!” one of the Spirit Hunters called out.

“Three point five, three point six, point seven, point eight,” another chimed in, looking at his own little light up box.

“This place is crawling with abnormal energy!” Burt informed us.

“It’s like that every night,” Mr. Brenner noted.

“His soul is disturbed,” Delores went on in a deep raspy voice, her eyes rolling back in her head. I had news for her, that wasn’t all that was disturbed. From somewhere out in the hall, came a horrible sound, not unlike the wail of a Banshee.

“Sid! It’s my Sid! I knew it! He wants justice!” Apparently, Gladys Peterman had not left the building. She came tearing into the courtroom like a bat out of hell, or more accurately, like a bat into hell, in this case I suppose.

“If he wants anything, Gladys, he wants you to shut up already,” her brother-in-law Irv said, coming in after her. “The poor guy can’t even get away from you by dying.” A loud clanging noise sounded from somewhere in the building. I guess Sid agreed.

“I need something to contain it!” Delores cried. “An empty vessel of some sort.” She looked around frantically. A guy who looked like a biker stood up and dumped a bottle of vitamin water onto the floor, handing it over to Delores.

“Fifty dollar fine!” Judge Epstein yelled out with a bang of her gavel.

“Ask Sid if that pervert violated him!” Gladys demanded.

“Tell him it’s about time he got some,” Irv muttered.

“What’s going on in here?” Edna Manson asked, joining the party a bit late … from the jury room? Mr. Bates came out behind her, pulling up his fly. Okay, that was something I really didn’t need to see. I glanced at Braden.

“Don’t think about it,” he said grimly.

“There’s a ghost in the room, and he’s pissed off, because somebody screwed him … or didn’t screw him,” a woman who looked like a working girl answered.

“Is it Mr. Marley? If so, I have that case,” Edna said, heading over to the prosecution table and digging through a pile of files. Braden rolled his eyes.

“It’s my Sid!” Gladys insisted.

“How do you know?” Edna shot back. She wasn’t going to let Mr. Marley off the hook just because he died in 1905.

“Because she said that the spirit wanted justice and he was disturbed!” Gladys seethed. A Spirit Hunter approached her with his Light Bright and she swung at him with her purse.

“I think this one might be a demon,” the Spirit Hunter said, ducking just in time.

“You’re just figuring that out now?” Irv Peterman asked.

“Enough of this!” Judge Epstein shouted, banging her gavel so hard that she broke it. “Everybody shut up!” There was silence as we all waited expectantly. “You, in the shit shirt, you first. What’s going on in here?” She glared at Bert malevolently.

He cleared his throat and launched into his explanation. “Well, Judge, my partner Ernie went to retrieve some equipment and seems to have gone missing. Our equipment is indicating that there is paranormal activity going on in this room at the moment.”

“Okay, and you, dressed in the rummage sale, Ms. Crowley, what’s your problem?” she asked Delores.

“I’m hearing voices from beyond demanding justice and I’m prepared to perform an exorcism … for a reasonable fee.”

“Uh huh. And you, Mrs. Peterman, you think this is your husband.”

“It’s because the narcoleptic violated him!”

“But you, Ms. Manson, think it’s a different ghost?”

“Yeah, I think it’s a guy named Marley, who died in 1905. He’s charged with trespassing, and if he doesn’t make an appearance,” she shouted at nobody in particular, “I’m gonna request a bench warrant!”

“I made an appearance two hours ago,” a voice answered from the back of the room. “This place moves like a glacier.” Everyone turned to look at Mr. Marley, who had reappeared, or materialized, depending on what you believed.

“You’re Marley?” Judge Epstein asked. “And you’re not dead?”

“Yeah, I’m Marley, and I’m as alive as he is,” he said glancing over at Mr. Fisher from the INS. We all took a second to try to figure out what that meant.

“Your Honor, we straightened out that trespassing case,” the judge’s clerk said, coming in through a side door. “The 1905 case was Commonwealth vs. Morely. This is Commonwealth vs. Marley,” he said laying a file on her bench and looking up. He seemed a bit perplexed at what exactly was going on.

“So, it looks like Mr. Marley is among the living. Does the Commonwealth have an offer?” Judge Epstein asked Ms. Manson with a smile.

“Yeah, we’ll come up with something,” Edna replied, looking disappointed.

“Your Honor, I apologize for the problems with the power,” another voice announced from the back of courtroom. Once again, everyone turned to look. It was Ernie, looking sheepish.

“You were responsible for that?”

“Uh, yeah,” he shuffled his feet. “I got a little carried away with the EMF meter. Wound up causing an electrical surge so powerful I knocked myself out for a few. All better now, though.”

“So, nobody is missing. Nobody is dead. And there’s an explanation for why the lights went out and the air conditioner went wild.” She tossed her broken gavel down on her bench.

“I still think there’s paranormal activity here,” Ernie answered.

“Me too!” Delores agreed. The two of them gazed at each other and you almost hear the violins and see the little cherubs floating above their heads.

“I still think it’s Sid,” Gladys grumbled.

“Somebody get her out of here so we can wrap this nightmare session up,” Judge Epstein grumbled back and a deputy escorted Gladys out of the courtroom. Braden went off to negotiate a plea bargain, for the very much alive, Mr. Marley, and I went over to talk to Mr. Fisher, Ms. Brooks and Mr. Brenner.

“We’ve determined that you’re correct, and Mr. Smith is not actually in the country illegally,” Mr. Fisher informed us.

“There are some people from Mental Health who are coming to pick him up,” Ms. Brooks added. “It seems that our work here is done.”

“Thanks.” I smiled. The two federal employees gathered their things and left.

“Happy Halloween, Mrs. Pierce,” Mr. Brenner said, turning to leave.

“Happy Halloween!” I called after him.

A half an hour later, Braden and I finally walked wearily out of the front doors of the criminal courts building and headed for our car. It was too late for Jess’s party, but we were exhausted anyway.

“So, that was definitely an interesting experience,” I said to my husband.

“Yeah, no more Night Court.” He stopped walking and stood staring at something in the sky. I followed his gaze.

“What is that?” I asked, puzzled by the cigar-shaped object with the blinking lights. Suddenly, with what looked like a burst of energy, it disappeared.

“It’s gone. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“You don’t suppose …” The two of us looked at each other.

“Nah, couldn’t be,” he answered and we walked on hand in hand. We had bigger things to think about anyway, like the baby we were planning to make.

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N.M. Silber is an attorney, turned full-time author, who survived the Philadelphia criminal court system, largely by having a sarcastic sense of humor. She used her experiences there as a starting place to build her humorous cast of characters and sexy story lines, and she uses her knowledge of legal practice, courtroom procedure, and how lawyers really think, in every one of her novels.

She has been a USA Today Bestselling author and #1 Bestselling author in Romantic Comedy on Amazon. She was voted an Amazon Reader's Choice Best New Author for 2013, and has been ranked as a Top 100 author there overall. She has stated that her goal is to write books that make readers laugh, blush, swoon, and genuinely feel good.

She is represented by Kimberly Brower of Rebecca Friedman Literary Agency.

Website: http://www.nmsilber.com/

WordPress: http://nmsilber.wordpress.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7094314.N_M_Silber

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The Lawyers in Love Series and Other Works

“N.M. Silber’s Lawyers in Love, make the courtroom … and the bedroom sizzle!” Julia Kent, New York Times Bestselling author

The Law of Attraction (Lawyers in Love 1)

(Now available for only $0.99!)

Top 100 Bestseller on Amazon and Barnes & Noble, Amazon Bestseller in Contemporary Romance, Romantic Comedy and Humor

The Home Court Advantage (Lawyers in Love 2)

Amazon Bestseller in Romantic Comedy, Humor, Satire,

and Humorous Women’s Fiction

Legal Briefs (Lawyers in Love 3)

Top 100 Bestseller on Amazon and Barnes & Noble, Amazon Bestseller in Contemporary Romance, Romantic Comedy, Humor, Satire,

and Humorous Women’s Fiction

Legally Wed (A Lawyers in Love Novella)

Amazon Bestseller in Humor, Humorous Erotica, and Romantic Comedy

The Lawyers in Love, Books 1 & 2 Boxed Set

LOL Volume 1 (Romantic Comedy Anthology)

USA Today Bestseller, Top 20 Bestseller on Amazon and Barnes & Noble, Top 10 Amazon Bestseller in Romance, #1 Amazon Bestseller in Romantic Comedy