by M. S. Parker
She managed a weak smile before nodding to the double-glass doors off to the right. “That’s my study in there. It’s where my important things are. If someone was coming after me, that'd be the first place they'd go.”
I followed her inside and immediately got an idea of what she meant. Pieces of art were everywhere. Everything from framed photographs to what looked like might have been a couple of one-of-a-kind paintings. I didn’t know anything about real art, but there was one piece that I thought I could at least identify the artist. The face was all out of proportion, the nose on the side of the head. Frowning, I looked over at Leayna. “Is that a Picasso?”
She gave me a sheepish smile, as if I'd caught her doing something childish. “I love art. I even thought I'd be an artist before I met my husband.”
“And it’s...is it original?”
She nodded, looking at it fondly. “It belonged to my father. He kept it in this climate-controlled, light-controlled room where nobody ever saw it.” She shook her head and I saw something real shine through the flakey trophy wife I knew. “But that’s not why art’s created. It’s supposed to be enjoyed.”
I looked around, studying the flipped over chair, the desk with its drawers ripped out. Sculptures had been knocked over, and there were pieces of glass all over the floor, glittering in the light.
“They broke things,” I said softly.
“I know. Some of it...not all of it was expensive, but it was mine.” She swallowed and I could see tears shining in her eyes. “I collected all kinds of art. Blown glass and…” Her voice skipped. “At least they left the paintings alone.”
I started to respond, but heard voices. Glancing back over my shoulder, I said, “I think the DA is here.”
I left the study, wondering why somebody would break in, but not take priceless artwork. And they hadn't destroyed it either. It was almost as if they'd chosen to wreck things that meant a lot to Leayna, but nothing that was excessively costly.
A voice caught my ears.
Female, low.
My skin prickled. Bethany McDermott was the ADA on the case, but I thought she'd foist something like this off on an underling.
“I'm with the DA's office.”
“Bethany, glad you could–” The words died in my throat as I rounded the corner.
The petite blonde standing there in a tan jacket and jeans was most definitely not Bethany.
Dena. Lust hit me hard and fast.
For one split second, her pale gray eyes brightened. “What are you—?”
“Arik?”
I locked my jaw at the sound of Leayna’s voice. There were too many people here for me to say any of the things I wanted to say.
Leayna angled herself into me. “Can I...am I allowed to lie down?”
“Just a moment, Leayna, okay?” I squeezed her shoulder and looked back over at Dena.
Her eyes jumped back to mine and I was suddenly overly aware of the fact that my hand was on Leayna's shoulder. In that moment, I felt like I'd been caught with my pants down, and that irritated the hell out of me. She didn’t have a claim on me. And why was she here, anyway? I was working here. It was rude of her to have burst in like this, unannounced.
“Ma’am, I’m not sure what you’re doing here, but you need to leave. This is a crime scene.”
Ma’am? I knew why I said it, and it was even partially justified. We’d met a handful of times and usually it had to do with me getting her naked as quick as possible. Now, I was working.
Even so, I felt like an ass as soon as the words came out of my mouth.
Dena’s lashes lowered ever so briefly over her eyes, but I caught a flicker there. Her mouth tightened.
Oh, shit.
As much as I didn't want to, I steeled myself. “Again, ma’am. This is a crime scene. You can’t be here.”
Something seemed to click inside her. “Oh, I’m aware of where we are, but I'm not going anywhere.”
My eyes narrowed. Was she kidding me? I must have seriously misjudged her.
Her smile was almost good enough to pass for real. She took a step forward, hand out. “I’m with the DA’s office. Dena Monroe, assistant district attorney. Nice to meet you.”
I stared at her, her words echoing in my head.
Dena Monroe, assistant district attorney.
Dena.
Fuck.
Dena was an ADA.
I’d been fucking an ADA. And apparently one close to the case.
Shit.
Her gaze swept past me and came to rest on Leayna. Automatically, I went back to the role I was supposed to be playing, and I placed myself between Dena and my client, but she didn’t try to speak to the other woman. Instead, she turned toward the officers.
“Has anything been taken?”
“Hard to say.” The cop who'd been acting like a dickhead earlier jabbed a thumb toward Leayna. “She’s not exactly forthcoming.”
“My client is understandably upset,” I said.
Dena looked around the apartment, her mouth flat. Cushions had been overturned and slashed, pictures knocked off the walls. Several large plants that had been placed near the large palladium window had been upended, leaving dirt on the plush carpet. Dirt that was being ground into the fibers with every step the cops took.
With a derisive smirk on her face, Dena swung her head to look at Dickhead. “One couldn’t possibly imagine why she might be upset, Officer...Dietz, is it?”
The other uniform, a giant brute of a fellow who looked just barely out of the academy, covered a laugh behind a clearly fake cough. Dena turned toward him and I had to cover a vicious jolt of jealousy as she smiled at him. She offered her hand and started to fire questions at him.
Deciding it would be better to focus on Leayna – and not Dena and my dick – I looked over at the slump-shouldered form of my client. Resting a hand on her arm, I asked, “Have they finished checking your room?”
She shook her head as she folded her arms around her stomach.
I worked hard to keep my voice gentle. “Okay, let’s take care of that. You can’t lie down until they're done, but if we take care of your room, maybe you can rest for a bit.”
***
“Wow.”
Dena came in behind me and my skin immediately felt about two sizes too small. The sound of her voice, that was all it took. The subtle scent of her shampoo or perfume or whatever it was she used came with her and my cock started to swell. This was not good.
She picked a spot about five feet off to my right, her boots crunching over the shards of glass. “Hope whatever that was wasn't something important,” she said quietly.
“It was all important to my client.” I knew what Dena actually meant, but I was feeling like enough of an ass to pretend that I didn't.
She was quiet for a moment and then continued along what I assumed was her original train of thought. “Seems strange to trash an apartment as classy as this, but leave things like that Picasso untouched. If you’re going to do it, why not go all in? Or at least take some stuff with you.”
I looked over at her. “Leayna wasn’t here when the place was tossed.”
“I’m not saying she was.” She sounded sincere, but her eyes were cool, distant even.
Like I was a stranger.
I didn't like it.
I took a step toward her without even really thinking about it.
She took a step back, keeping the distance between us the same. “Does she have any idea who might have done this?”
Keeping my face carefully blank, I thought back to the discussion I'd had with Leayna earlier this week. Her late husband had been involved in some rather shady activities, some of which were connected to organized crime. They'd threatened her, wanting her to plead guilty to having murdered her husband. Doing this to her house seemed like a good way to send her a message without quite crossing the line enough to warrant a thorough police investigation. Whoever these guys were, they were smart, and I couldn't completely
rule out the possibility that they had someone from the police or even the DA's office in their pocket.
I’d have to reconsider how I went about getting protection for Leayna. And while I was doing that, I needed to play my cards close. I didn't think Dena would be involved in something like this, but I also wouldn't have pegged her for an ADA either, so I wasn't going to trust anyone.
“I’m considering a couple angles.” I kept my answer as vague as possible.
Dena slid a look at me, clearly not happy.
That made two of us.
“We’re pretty much done.” The newbie cop appeared in the doorway and gave us both a nod, his gaze making it clear that he was talking to Dena and not me. “Ms. Mance finished up her list of damaged items. She seems much calmer now.”
I'd been with Leayna while she'd given her statement, but making a list of everything that had been broken wasn’t something she'd needed a lawyer for, so when she'd asked me to check something for her, I'd been all too willing to go. I'd needed a moment to get my head together.
It hadn't worked.
“I had a feeling you’d have a gentler touch than your partner, Rubens,” Dena said.
Rubens blushed and I had to bite back a smart comment. It wasn't the kid's fault I was in knots.
Dena started for the door.
“Well,” she said, speaking to nobody in particular. “This has been fun.”
I reached for her, but she sidestepped me.
“Mr. Porter, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“Dena—”
She stopped and gave me a blank look. “It’s Ms. Monroe,” she corrected me. “And if you'll excuse me, my boss wants a full report as soon as the cops were done.”
I didn’t even have a chance to try to stop her from leaving, because Leayna appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide and lost.
So while the woman I wanted disappeared, I was left with the widow facing the murder charge.
Chapter 2
Dena
The entire way back to my office, thoughts circled in my head, not giving me a moment's peace. But not thoughts about the case, not about my report to Bethany.
How had this happened?
Had Arik known who I was all along?
Had he approached me just because of where I worked?
It seemed like an awful lot of work, especially considering it hadn't been like we'd simply bumped into each other at a coffee shop or even at a regular club. Then again, some people would do anything to win.
Once back in the safety of my coffin-sized office, I locked the door. Sinking into my seat, I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands.
What had I done?
“Don’t think about it.” I said the words out loud, like that would help. I took a deep breath. Not thinking about it was one way to handle it.
If I didn’t think about it, then I didn’t have to deal with the pain that lurked just inside my heart.
No, I reminded myself.
It wasn’t inside my heart. All we'd had was sex. Sure, it would suck if it turned out he’d been using me, but only because of how stupid I'd feel for having been taken in.
And the fact that it would mean the best sex I'd ever had would never happen again.
That was all.
“Dammit.” I stood and crossed my office. It took like two steps. Sinking down into my chair, I stared at the white board I’d affixed to the wall and made myself acknowledge the truth.
I had to think about it.
If I tried to ignore it and it came out that Arik had known, then, well, I was fucked. My career as a prosecutor would most likely be over before it even got started.
“It could end my career.” My stomach twisted as I said it. It wasn’t a certainty, I didn't think, especially since I hadn't shared anything with him, but it was possible. Depending on who found out, who said something, and how much trouble it caused. At the very least, it'd make anyone think twice about giving me anything more important to do than arguing traffic tickets.
Dropping my forehead into my palm, I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed, in and out, in and out. I did that for probably close to a minute, just to settle my stomach and my thoughts.
Once I felt a little clearer, I opened my eyes. I needed to be smart about this, think with my head. I flipped open my notepad and started to sketch a few things down. I would have to shred this, but I needed to put it all down, even if only for long enough to make everything concrete in my mind.
Without allowing any emotions to come into play, I jotted down a series of notes, numbering them as I went. Having started with the question that seemed to be the most important, I followed with how I needed to handle it. Once I was finished, I took a deep breath and then began to read back over what I'd written.
Did he know I was working with the DA's office?
Find out
Figure out potential problems
Figure out potential outcomes
Figure out potential revenge
I underlined revenge several times just to make myself feel better, although it wasn’t like I’d actually do anything. I wasn't a vengeful person. Though if I just happened to talk to one of my good friends about what happened and she just happened to tell her somewhat overprotective boyfriend who happened to be the owner of Club Privé, and Arik suddenly found himself persona non grata...I wouldn't complain.
And, of course, if I found proof that he'd known who I was and had acted inappropriately, then I’d turn him in to the ethics committee. That, however, wasn't vengeance. That was a consequence of doing something unethical.
But I wouldn't worry about that until I'd done everything else on the list. Evidence first.
Staring at it for a long, hard moment, I committed it to memory and waited for my gut to settle.
It didn’t.
But at least some of the chaos in my mind settled to a dull roar.
I could think.
Folding the paper into twos, then fours, I put it through the crisscross shredder. I definitely didn't need Bethany or Pierce finding out about Arik. The bin itself was locked, collected by an outside company for disposal weekly. Somebody would have to be particularly determined to get inside there and even more determined to re-create anything they got out of the bin.
I studied it for a few more minutes, uneasy.
But it wasn't over the list I made. I was uneasy over the man I'd left behind in the defendant’s home.
Had he known?
I didn’t know.
But I was going to find out.
***
I spent the next twenty minutes trying to work on my report before I gave up and decided to take a break. A coffee and bagel run should help. It usually did.
My boots made hollow sounds on the tiled floor, reminding me how empty the building was on a Sunday. If it hadn't been for the fact that I wanted to get everything typed up while it was still fresh in my mind – not to mention needing something to distract me from my personal problems – I wouldn't have been in at all. As I made my way down the hall, however, I saw that I wasn't actually alone. I bit back a dozen curses and wished desperately for a ladies’ room to duck into.
There wasn’t one.
Pierce Lawton, the other new ADA hire, glanced back at me. Judging by the look on his face, he seemed to be having as good a day as I was. Maybe Bethany had decided to kick him off her for a while, and sent him off to do actual lawyering. I could only imagine how difficult that would be for him.
He slowed his steps until I had no choice but to either slow down myself, or walk next to him. As he glanced over at me, I stared straight ahead, nodding in response to his greeting.
It sounded almost...normal.
But Pierce didn’t do normal. He did stuck-up. He did arrogant. He did asshole. He didn’t do normal.
“How did things go at the suspect’s house?” he asked.
I wasn't surprised he knew Bethany had sent me, just that he cared. “I’m working on the repo
rt right now. Figured that way Bethany could read it as soon as she got in tomorrow. I just need a bagel and some coffee.”
“That wasn’t what I asked,” he responded, smiling a little. “Everything cool?”
I slid him a narrow look. “I’m hungry. I want to get some food. Some of us didn’t get to...sleep in.”
His face went a dull shade of red, but he manned up quick enough. “Look, Dena. I’m just wondering how everything went. This is my case too.”
“Is that why you're here?” I asked.
His turquoise eyes narrowed. “I'm here because I needed to look over a few things for tomorrow.”
He fell silent as the two of us made our way to the front doors.
Just before I stepped out, I glanced over at him. “You do know, she’s got a reputation for being something of a shark.” I paused, then added almost thoughtfully, “You could probably even call her a man-eater.”
I strode through the doors before he could respond.
I’d probably regret my last comment, but my patience with all of this was wearing thin. I hadn't spent all these years working my ass off to play these high school games.
***
I finished the report in a caffeine-driven haze. The bagel had been half stale and lousy, but I'd eaten it anyway, needing the fuel.
Once I was done, I emailed a copy to Bethany, Pierce, one to my own email account, and then I CC’d the DA. I also printed up three paper copies. I'd give her one personally tomorrow morning, keep one in my own files and then sealed the third in an envelope that I planned to mail to myself.
No way in hell would I let Bethany pull the same shit with me that she’d done with Officer Dunne's differing reports.
I’d been thinking it through, and I had a feeling she was behind those missing reports. There'd been a look in her eyes when I was talking to her. One I didn’t trust at all, but I wasn’t going to think about her right now. I wasn’t going to think about Bethany, or Pierce...or Arik.
My stomach churned, but I slipped my sunglasses on and strode out into the brilliant sunlight of a New York afternoon. Instead of hopping on the subway to head back to Chelsea, however, I decided to do some window shopping. Anything to avoid hanging around my apartment with nothing to do but think.