Pas de Deux

by Jamie Craig

  Scott took a small notebook out of his pocket. It seemed so incongruous with what Duke of knew of Scott that he couldn’t help but stare at it. “I have a list of names here.” He took out a small digital device. “And about a dozen interviews on this. I’ll be more than happy to share them with you…over drinks.”

  Drinks. For a moment, Duke’s brain refused to compute the implication. He was still a tad bewildered that Scott could have an entire list of people with valid information on the case that he didn’t. If Saucedo had talked to even one of them, Young wouldn’t currently be sitting in a cell.

  Drinks. His gaze leapt to Scott’s. Scott was holding the list for ransom for…drinks? What on earth for? He clearly had the advantage here. He had to know Duke didn’t have anything new. Otherwise, he would’ve resumed his why is the DA stalling routine as soon as he’d walked through the door.

  “You have a date.” A statement of the obvious, but the best he could manage while he struggled to put some order into Scott’s actions.

  Scott straightened, his eyes dancing with victory. “Great. Let’s go.”

  Duke blinked as Scott headed for the door. “What? No, we’re not going anywhere.”

  “Why not? Didn’t you just agree to drinks?”

  “No, I was reminding you of the fact that you have a date. In an hour. That’s what you said.” His brows drew together into an immediate frown. “Unless that was an attempt to put me off from pushing for an interrogation tonight. In which case, you should know I really don’t like being lied to.”

  “Oh, that. I was going to meet somebody for a late dinner. But I think you and I can find a far more productive use of my time.”

  He held out his hand. “Give me the list and there’s no need to change your plans.”

  “I’m thinking no. It’ll be far more beneficial, for both of us, if we have a few drinks, discuss what’s on this tape, and try to figure out just why you don’t already have this information.”

  “I can figure it out perfectly well on my own.” His snappish tone surprised both of them, and he deliberately took a deep breath and dropped his hand. Scott would not push his buttons. He would not let it happen. Just to be safe, he took another deep breath before speaking again. “How is this in any way beneficial to you? If you already have witnesses, you don’t need to curry my favor to help you with your case.” There. That made him sound competent and in control again, even if he didn’t necessarily feel it.

  “Curry your favor? Duke, I’ve already got this case in the bag. But regardless of that, there’s still a murdered girl, a lack of physical evidence, and a detective who is smart enough to figure everything out, if he stops looking at the red herring.”

  The last thing he needed was for a cocky lawyer telling him how to do his job. “If the only way you’re going to hand over that list in a timely manner is for me to join you for drinks, then you don’t really give me much of a choice, do you?” He peeled off his gloves, grateful for the mundane distraction. His control walked a knife’s edge already. Damn Scott. He’d rather deal with Abbott and his backstabbing homophobia than Scott right now.

  If Scott had any idea how annoyed Duke was, he didn’t show it. In fact, his wide, charming smile returned. “I knew you would see things my way. I would offer to drive, but I have the feeling you don’t want to leave your car around here.”

  He also didn’t want to be stuck in a locked car with Scott until he had his emotions back under control. “I’ll follow you.” And keep the meeting as short as possible. He’d get the names and interview them himself.

  He’d save trying to understand Scott for later.

  Chapter 5

  Getting Duke to agree to drinks had been an amazing coup and one that, quite frankly, Scott didn’t think he would be able to pull off. He knew the witnesses would be his best bet, but Duke was a good detective. He would have sought out the same people Scott did, and probably would have come to the same conclusions on his own. Sooner or later. Though he did not have a luxury of time, and they both knew it.

  Convincing Duke to agree was one thing. Scott still wasn’t entirely convinced that Duke would actually show up where they had agreed to meet. It would have been easy enough for Duke to change his mind and simply drive home, or back to the department. But he had a really hard time imagining Duke going back on his word, no matter how grudgingly he had given it. Scott wasn’t even entirely sure why he cared so much. Except that every time he looked at Duke, he found something new to like. Currently, his favorite thing about Duke was his eyes. Which appeared to be a dark brown. Except when he was annoyed. Then they were closer to black. Scott knew he could spend way too much time staring at those black eyes.

  Which was very bad, because if there was anybody in the city he needed to maintain a professional distance with, it was Owen Duke.

  Scott chose a small wine bar on Cole Street. He was a regular, but not because he regularly conducted business there. In fact, he never conducted business at the Isis. It was a very intimate location with a soothing, quiet atmosphere. But men went there on dates. They did not go there with opposing counsel. Scott knew he was making a huge gamble. One that probably would not pay off. But he was poised to become his firm’s youngest partner, and he didn’t get to that point in his career by being afraid of risks.

  He waited in a corner booth that gave him an open view of the front door. He’d briefly debated waiting outside, but that reeked of desperation—or at the very least, insecurity Duke wouldn’t show—and he didn’t want that. So when the door opened and the object of his attention walked in, tall and commanding in his immaculate dark suit, he didn’t bother holding back his smile.

  Duke didn’t share it as he approached the table. He didn’t sit, either.

  “I’m here,” he said. “Now let’s go somewhere more appropriate for our meeting.”

  Scott blinked, schooling his features to the very picture of innocence. “What’s inappropriate about this place? It’s quiet, the wine selection can’t be beat, and nobody will bother us here.”

  “Because they’re all on dates.”

  “True, but…” Scott looked around the room. “They all seem to be very respectful dates. I don’t even see any PDAs.”

  “That’s not the problem. This”—he gestured between them—”is not a date.”

  Scott didn’t miss a beat. It wouldn’t be the first time he had been shot down, after all. “No, but this”—he mimicked Duke’s gesture—”is a meeting between a high profile attorney and the man who just took over a high profile case. People are at least discreet here, if nothing else.”

  Duke tightened his mouth, his now-black gaze sweeping over the other patrons again. He’d likely expected some sort of compromise, but Scott wasn’t willing to give it to him. Bending a little wouldn’t do him any harm, especially if it would help him see the ridiculousness of Hector’s incarceration.

  His gaze swept back. “Tell me why you picked this place and I’ll stay. Because there are plenty of discreet locations in this city without coming someplace like…this.”

  “Because there are two places in this area where I’m known, and where I’m comfortable. At this hour of the night, one is full of lawyers. This is the other one.”

  Duke’s nostrils flared. After a moment, he slid into the booth across from Scott. “I’m sorry. I jumped to a wrong conclusion.”

  Scott wanted to ask what that conclusion was. Had he really been that annoyed because he thought Scott wanted a date? Or was there something else? After all, Duke knew exactly what kind of bar this was. Perhaps he had been there before.

  “It’s not a problem.” He sipped from his glass of water. “Have you been here before? If not, I’ll be happy to offer a few recommendations.”

  “Not for a long time, but that’s all right. I’m just having coffee.”

  “You don’t drink at all, do you?”

  “Not when I’m on duty, I don’t.”

  Scott smiled sheepishly. “I’m so
rry, I didn’t even really think about that.”

  “That’s all right. You’re just more used to drinking during business meetings.” Duke finally relaxed a little in his seat, his hand straying beneath the table to unbutton his jacket. “Besides, alcohol tends to make me tired. I won’t do anybody any good if I fall asleep in the middle of your list.”

  Scott filed that bit of information away for future reference. He didn’t know if he would ever get the chance to use it, but it was best to err on the side of caution. He did, however, know that he couldn’t put Duke off forever. He took the notebook out of his pocket and flipped to a page in the back.

  “Rex Nieves, property manager. Nicole and Blake Rogers, next door neighbors. Branson Nichols, Greg Smith, and Xavier Gato, her neighbors across the hall. Richard Pennyworth, night security guard at Ms. Mayfield’s building. Ishi and Ken Lee…” Scott looked up. “You’ve met Ishi. Ken is her son. And Chandra Cunningham has been the community outreach coordinator at the Woodson Halfway Home for nonviolent criminals for the past five years.”

  Duke frowned at the very first name. “Nieves is on Saucedo’s list. His answers were inconclusive.”

  “His answers weren’t as precise as I would hope, but he did tell me that in June of this year, he ran into Ms. Mayfield and Hector while waiting for the elevator. She introduced them, but he doesn’t remember Hector saying much while they chatted about the ballet.”

  The frown deepened. “You’re giving me prior knowledge of the victim here. What did the others tell you that you think will exonerate Young?”

  “Your only piece of physical evidence is the fingerprint in Ms. Mayfield’s apartment. A fingerprint that is easily explained away by the fact that they were friends. Or are you going to arrest every person who visited her home in the past three months?”

  “She was robbed. Young’s modus operandi.”

  “Was she? What’s your proof of that, detective? What’s missing?”

  “There’s no way for us to be certain without someone to inventory its contents.”

  “In other words, you can’t say she was robbed because you simply don’t know. I’ll tell you one thing, though. Nieves was with her parents after they were allowed to enter the apartment and pack everything up. He told me they never indicated anything they sent her was missing, and that includes a beautiful diamond pendant she received for her twenty-first birthday.”

  “Unless he had a personal relationship with her, Nieves is not a reliable witness to everything that was in her apartment, regardless of what her parents may or may not have said.” Though Duke didn’t sound entirely convinced by his own argument. He had a way of tilting his head when his thoughts were clearly working. He shouldn’t have to try so hard if he had facts at his disposal.

  “But it’s enough to introduce reasonable doubt and demolishes the one piece of evidence you have. Incidentally, Branson Nichols, her neighbor and somebody with easy access to her apartment for the weeks she was missing, also has a record. Two charges of possession, one attempted robbery, and one B&E.” Scott sighed and pushed the recorder across the table to Duke. “This doesn’t reek to you?”

  “I’m not like you, Mr. Scott. I can’t know until I have all the evidence in front of me. It’s the only way to make a case stick. But I’ll tell you one thing. Nichols has one thing Young doesn’t. An alibi.” Though he regarded the recorder with obvious curiosity, Duke refrained from picking it up, tracing an invisible line along the table. “Did you talk to Saucedo at all before I got assigned to the case?”

  “No. The case was reassigned before I had the chance to speak to him.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why?”

  Duke waved it off. “I just wondered what he might have said. I haven’t had the chance to talk to him yet.”

  “How…is that possible? Why wasn’t he the first person you spoke to?”

  “Because he had a heart attack.” For all Duke’s reluctance to tell him before, now the information came easily, naturally. “I left a message for him today, but he hasn’t got back to me yet.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know. Is he in the hospital?”

  “Yes. That’s why I inherited it.”

  “That might explain why there’s information you don’t have. Perhaps he was feeling unwell when he began his investigation.”

  “Perhaps.” Duke’s normally hard features softened, though the waitress’s arrival pulled him from whatever thoughts consumed him. After she left to fill their order, his gaze fixed on Scott again, his eyes closer to their normal brown. “You seemed to get a lot accomplished today. You must have a lull in clients.”

  “No, a full slate. But I didn’t have a court appearance this afternoon, there were a few meetings I could postpone until later in the week, and I delegated the two depositions scheduled for this afternoon. It took a bit of juggling, but I figured it would save me time in the long run.” Scott absently scraped his thumb across the side of his water glass, gathering the perspiration forming there. “Honestly, I needed the distraction. I’m waiting on a verdict and I don’t want to dwell on that.”

  “The Jenkins case?”

  “Yes.” Scott leaned forward. “What’s your professional opinion? Do you think I’ll get the verdict I’m hoping for?”

  “I didn’t follow the trial. I don’t know the details.” Of course, he would say that. Scott shouldn’t have expected anything less. Then he surprised Scott by adding, “But I can tell you half my precinct wants Griswold’s head on a platter. It’s tough when a case you’ve worked your ass off on gets handed to someone who makes the kind of dumb mistakes he does.”

  “I can imagine. It’s just…a bit disorienting. I’m usually pretty good at being able to read juries.” Scott shook his head, flashing a smile. “Sorry. I know you didn’t come here to discuss my jury problems.”

  “Is that the real reason you took this case? Because you needed the distraction from how long Jenkins is taking?”

  “No. At least…I don’t think that’s the reason I took the case. Though, I suppose I’m not usually on the lookout for the hard luck cases.”

  “Well…” A hint of a smile played on Duke’s mouth. “It would certainly make more sense than a gut instinct.”

  Scott couldn’t help but stare at him. “I wasn’t sure you even knew how to smile.”

  “Maybe that’s proof you shouldn’t always jump to such quick assumptions.” The waitress arrived with their drinks, but her presence didn’t banish this slight shift in Duke’s mood. He thanked her warmly and sipped at his creamy coffee. Another anomaly Scott hadn’t expected. He would have said Duke would prefer it sharp and black. When he set his cup down, his lips glistened lightly with new moisture before he licked it away. “Did you have any luck finding an alibi for Young today?”

  “He said he went for a walk. There’s nothing I can do about that. But we both know it won’t be an issue if there’s no physical evidence linking him to the crime itself. And who says I’m the one who jumps to quick assumptions?”

  Duke sighed softly and shook his head. “Contrary to what you might think, I’m not trying to railroad your client. I’m following the leads where they currently exist. If it turns out Young isn’t guilty, I’m not going to sit back and let him rot in a cell.”

  “If it turns out?” Scott mocked gently. “Your bias is showing. Remember, the presumption is not guilty. Though, I do believe that you’re not trying to railroad him. You don’t strike me as the sort of guy who is more interested in his reputation than justice.”

  “Because I’m not.” Another hint of a smile. Scott thought he could get used to those very easily. “Though I won’t deny working to have the best record in the precinct.”

  “I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that you do. Do you have any outside distractions? Family, secret addictions, things like that?”

  “If they’re secret, I’d hardly tell you, now would I?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you’d trust me. People sa
y I have an honest face.”

  “I’m more interested in actions, not appearances.”

  “In that case, I might have a few moves you’d be interested in.”

  Duke cocked a brow. “Please tell me that’s not one of the lines you use on actual dates. Though it might explain why you thought this could be one.”

  Scott feigned surprised innocence. “What made you think I thought this was a date?”

  Dark eyes locked on his. “Call it a gut instinct.”

  Scott couldn’t dampen his delighted laugh. “You’ve got me. I’m an optimistic guy. Perhaps my optimism was a little…unwarranted in this case.”

  “I would suggest just…poorly timed.”

  His eyes widened at the implication, and he tried to keep his excitement at bay, but failed. As far as he was concerned, that was practically an invitation to try again. “You’re right, my timing could have been better. In fact, I’ll promise you now, in the future it will be better.”

  Duke finally looked away, giving Scott a moment to breathe. Duke was probably a master in interrogations. Under those intense eyes, retreat was impossible. He suspected there was little Duke ever missed. Duke would be thorough and focused, unrelenting in his attention.

  Heat rushed to his cock. Those characteristics would be a bigger bonus in the bedroom. Or on a table. Or against a wall.

  “Could you give me the list of people you spoke to today?” Duke pushed the notepad he’d been writing in over coffee that morning in front of Scott, open to a blank page. “I’d like to compare it to Saucedo’s notes.”

  “I bet you are hell during cross-examination, aren’t you? Opposing counsel must wince when they see you on the witness list.” Scott pulled another piece of paper from his pocket, tossing it on the table besides the recorder.

  “You had these ready to give to me?” Duke asked in disbelief.

  “I knew you would want them. Hell, I wanted you to have them. You can keep the recorder, too. The interviews are very illuminating and not even a little incriminating.”