Fool Me Once (Codie Snow #1): A Romantic Suspense Series

by Jade C. Jamison

  Yes, she had heard that one from him before.

  “Okay. Fair enough. I just didn’t realize the kings had hired you.”

  A slight smirk moved Slade’s lips, but it felt calculated, as if he were holding back. “Let’s just say that I’ve acquired as clientele some big Dalton players.” Yeah, it showed. Not that Slade looked any different. The man had always played the part, and having a rich father hadn’t hurt at all. “Remember, anyone accused of a crime is innocent until proven guilty, and everyone has a right to be represented by an attorney.”

  Codie was trying to prepare a smart ass comment when Matthew interrupted them. “Aha! Yep. Michelle Clark married a guy named Caleb Dinsmoor almost three years ago.”

  “So that was her?”

  “Yes.” Matthew turned his monitor so that she could see the screen. Somehow, he’d found the wedding announcement that had been printed in Dalton’s daily back when it had happened. She imagined Matthew had access to more information than she’d ever need. “You gonna be okay, girlfriend?”

  God, Matthew knew how she was going to feel even before she’d figured it out. Yes, this upset her. Greatly. Michelle had never been a best friend to Codie, but they’d had a lunch or two together, and Codie remembered the young woman as vibrant and caring—a real sweetheart. In fact, at their pinning ceremony after two months of intense classes and clinicals, one of their instructors had said Michelle embodied the spirit of Clara Barton more than any other student she’d ever had the honor to teach. Codie swallowed and gathered her thoughts. “Yes, I’ll be all right. I just…” She shook her head. “It’s so hard to believe that Michelle would commit suicide—and in such a strange way.” She couldn’t get the scene out of her head—the plastic bags strapped around the woman’s head, the strong odor of urine. Codie regretted not having kept in touch with the woman, not that she could have helped her, but she couldn’t stop that thought from crossing her mind.

  “Stop it right now, Codie. You couldn’t have done anything.”

  Matthew, always spot on. “Get out of my head, weirdo.”

  A big grin crossed her roommate’s face. “I love you!”

  “Love you back.”

  Slade had always tolerated the way the two of them interacted, not that they would have cared what he thought. Codie was getting ready to bring the subject back to Michelle when Matthew’s phone started talking.

  Well, it was actually the receptionist out front talking through his phone. “Matthew?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a Mr. Strong here to see you.”

  Slade sat up, but there was nothing urgent about it. “You need the two of us to clear out of here?” Why did that sound to Codie like Slade was talking about them as a couple again?

  “No, I can just take him into one of the interview rooms.”

  Matthew said into the phone. “I’ll be right there.” He looked at Codie. “Don’t make dinner tonight. I have a new recipe I want to try out.”

  “Okay, bossy.”

  Matthew grinned and looked at Slade. “I love this girl.”

  Why Codie had never figured out before that Matthew had been part of why Slade probably continued to pursue her, she’d never know. Of course, though, it all made sense. It was all a big matchmaking game for her friend. That was why she’d been at dinner with the two of them the other night and—

  “Will you be okay?”

  That…that tone of voice, that kindness, that soft-spoken approach was unlike Slade. He didn’t usually worry about feelings or emotions, especially girly ones. It was what made him such a fierce and ruthless lawyer in the courtroom. Somehow, though, he was sensing just how upset Codie was over Michelle’s death, and maybe Codie was taking it hard because, even though the young, vibrant woman was unlike Codie in more ways than they were similar, she had always seemed like one of the good ones—pure and sweet. She should have been shining her light on people until it was time for her to pass…much like Mother Teresa. Instead, she’d put out her own candle long before it was time. Those were Codie’s thoughts as she absentmindedly answered, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  But she wasn’t going to be. Not by a long shot.

  And so that was how she found herself in Slade’s arms, letting the man kiss her with unbridled passion while a tear fell down her cheek.

  Oh, sweet Jesus. Codie had forgotten just how much she loved that man’s kiss. Every time his tongue touched hers, it was like he was reminding her that he owned her—heart and soul. She felt the old ache in her chest, the yearning to be with him now and forever.

  Her heart was thudding in her chest when he slowly pulled his lips off hers, and it took her a second to force her eyes open. Much as she loved it, she needed to set him straight. “What was that for?”

  “You looked like you needed it.”

  Well, she had, but she wouldn’t admit it. “Nice try, mister.”

  He smirked again. Damn. That was so infuriating and yet so sexy. “I don’t feel you struggling to get out of my arms.” Oh, shit. He was right. So she started wriggling, trying to free herself from his embrace, when he said, “No jury in the world would buy your argument, Ms. Snow.”

  “Shut the hell—” He did shut them both up by kissing her again.

  And she lost herself in the moment.

  Chapter Sixteen

  AS MUCH AS Codie’s loins had wanted to, she managed to avoid sleeping with Slade.

  But she did agree to dinner with him that evening, much to Matthew’s chagrin. He made Codie promise to save dinner the next day for him, but her roommate loved his boss so much (and loved the idea of Codie and Slade together again) that there was no way he was going to take away Slade’s chance to spend time with Codie. And Codie decided to be a pain in the ass from the get go. While they sat in the only decent Italian restaurant in town sipping red wine, she said, “So tell me about the new clientele you were bragging about earlier.”

  “Not bragging. I was just telling you the facts. And there’s really not much to tell. Attorney-client privilege, after all.”

  She tilted her head, hoping the annoyed look on her face came across loud and clear. “Really?”

  Slade’s classic smirk donned his face, letting her know there’d be no getting through tonight. “Let’s just say that everyone is entitled to legal representation, no matter what the public’s perception of them might be.”

  Them? Hmm. She’d have to drill him when he was weak. She got ready to change the subject, because the back of her mind kept touching on the thought of poor Michelle, coming back to it like a worry stone. Before Codie could say a word, though, Slade’s face grew serious and that alone got her attention. “Codie, I know you think I’m a sleazy asshole and, in some regards, I am. Always have been and always will. But…I miss you. You kept me grounded and now…now I feel like I’m floating. Without a rudder, without a compass.” She felt her furrowed brows ease as she let his words flow through her. Really? She meant that much to him? His words took her breath away, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. “Let’s try again.”

  She blinked a couple of times as she allowed his sentiment to wash over her. “I…I need some time to think about it.”

  He nodded, looking very much like the lawyer he was. “Of course.”

  “Right now, I’m kind of overwhelmed by the news about Michelle.”

  Slade set down the glass of wine and looked at her as if this was the first time he was hearing about it. “What exactly is getting to you?”

  Codie shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe…” She trailed off, trying to figure out the main reason why her death was bothering her so. “I think it’s because she’d never seemed like the kind of person to get so depressed that she’d take her own life. She was a really happy person, from the inside, you know? And she brought such joy to other people because of it. Could so much have changed in the few years since I’d last seen her?”

  “It just goes to show you can’t really understand people’s i
nternal struggles. She might have been dealing with some kind of mental illness.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” While it could have been true, it still didn’t sit well with Codie. What she knew and what had happened just didn’t match up in her mind—and she doubted it ever would.

  Which was why she called Pete as soon as she got home.

  * * *

  Codie lay on the sofa fuming, her irritation growing by the minute. She had meant to try to sleep while waiting for Pete’s lunch break, but she was so pissed, it wasn’t going to happen…because the more she thought about it, she was pretty sure Pete must have thought her need to discuss Michelle’s death was a request for a booty call, because he insisted on coming during his dinner break rather than before his shift—like she’d wanted.

  And that pissed her off.

  So, even though the next day was a day off for her, she tried dozing while waiting. But two things were working against her. The first was her anger that continued to flare in spite of the romantic comedy playing on the television. The second was Matthew’s shenanigans with his male pal in his bedroom. They weren’t being that noisy, but Codie could guess they were engaging in some type of rough foreplay or gymnastic sex. Either way, they were definitely getting more than she planned to, and they were most certainly having a lot more fun.

  By the time Pete tapped on the door, her mood had escalated.

  Fortunately, dealing with a lot of psychotic criminals had trained Pete to read people’s emotional distress well. “What’s wrong?”

  Rather than tell him all her emotional upset, she decided to focus on the main reason why she’d called him in the first place. After offering him coffee (which he didn’t deserve—but he declined anyway), she said, “I’ve just been thinking about Michelle, you know? I mean…it was shocking enough thinking that someone had killed her. But to find out she committed suicide? It’s just too much. I’m having a hard time dealing with this news.”

  Pete held out his hand, suggesting they sit at the kitchen table. Codie nodded and did just that while Pete talked. “How much had you talked to her the last couple of years, Codie? A lot can change over time, you know.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just…if you’d known her, Pete, you’d know why I’m freaking out. Michelle was one of those rare people—she had this light, this brightness. Just being around her made you feel better.”

  “I haven’t been a cop forever, but I can tell you there’s lots of reasons why someone like her would commit suicide.” Codie felt some doubt but didn’t say anything. “Depression can cause people to either feel despair or maybe they’re just completely off their rocker. Either scenario can set someone up for killing themselves.” She frowned. “Not eloquent, I know, but I think you get the message.”

  “But you don’t understand, Pete—”

  He got close to her fast, scooting in his chair so quickly that she stopped talking. He took her face in his hands and said, “What I understand is that you’re taking it way too hard. People our age aren’t used to dealing with the deaths of our peers and we don’t know how to handle it.” Codie sucked in a deep breath of air. That made sense. “But I know how to take your mind off it.” Pete leaned his head in to kiss her.

  That was pretty damned nervy—after telling her a few days earlier that she was nothing more than a friend with benefits. Codie pressed her palms flat against his chest and turned her head slightly so his lips couldn’t connect with hers. “Um…no.”

  Pete froze but she could hear the incredulity in his voice. “Why not? Isn’t that why you called me over?”

  “No, Pete. Dammit.” She turned her head so she could look him in the eyes. “I told you I wanted to talk about Michelle.”

  The expression on his face infuriated Codie. There were some days he looked just like the big dumb quarterback who’d been sacked by the opposing team and had just stood up and taken his helmet off to look around, wondering how the fuck it had happened. Maybe nothing had changed since high school and she had just managed to convince herself it had until now while the veil lifted from her eyes. “I thought you were just saying that.”

  Dummy. Codie slowly drew in a deep breath to calm herself. She liked Pete—a lot—so much so that she’d actually considered his FWB offer for a few seconds before deciding that wasn’t good enough for her. “No, Pete. I really did want to talk about Michelle.”

  He furrowed his brow as if trying to fully grasp the concept. “You know I’m not allowed to say much.”

  “You probably don’t know much, but I don’t want to talk about what you know. I wanted to try to figure out why someone like her would get to a place where she felt like suicide was her only option.”

  “You might never know.”

  “Yeah…but sometimes talking helps.”

  Pete grinned. “Sometimes other things do too.” Codie’s look made him stop smiling and she felt more than a little satisfied that maybe he was getting a clue.

  “Or maybe it was murder made to look like suicide to throw you and your guys off the trail.”

  The sexy, sly smirk on his face disappeared in a second. “Hey, now…our forensics guys know what the hell they’re doing. They go to college for that stuff.”

  Codie raised an eyebrow, pausing for effect. She was thinking about all the heavily educated people she worked with at the nursing home. Just like the cleaning people with nothing more than a GED and the CNAs with hardly anything other than a few college classes under their belts, the highly educated workers made mistakes too. “That doesn’t mean they got perfect scores on their exams. It only means they passed—and average people who make mistakes every day can graduate too.”

  Ah. Finally. She saw that something she’d said was getting under Pete’s skin—just the way she wanted it. But in spite of being irritated with her, he wasn’t taking her seriously enough. “Yeah, Codie, but they go to school to make sure they avoid making mistakes. That’s the whole point of their jobs—to catch what most people miss.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, sure, but they’re not perfect, either. They’re human. I’m sure they make mistakes.”

  Pete clenched his jaw as though forcing himself not to take her bait. Good. Because he wouldn’t win anyway. Now that she knew this topic for some reason was a sore spot with him, she wasn’t going to forget it…and anytime he pissed her off, she was going to think of a way to get to him. She smiled then and that was when he said, “You’re enjoying this.”

  The grin on her face grew. “Immensely.”

  And that was why Pete kissed her hard on the mouth and—in spite of not wanting to be a booty call—why Codie allowed him into her bed one last time anyway.

  Chapter Seventeen

  CODIE SPENT HER day off agonizing over Michelle’s death, talking with anyone who would listen—fellow nursing aides on their breaks, patients who just wanted a little company and liked the chance to offer some advice, and Matthew (who was good about listening but veered the conversation off course every chance he got). She knew Pete was off limits as far as the subject went and she was avoiding Slade once more, because she could tell he was trying to get them back together again already. Theirs was a cyclical relationship—on again, off again—and it was time to get back together, but Codie was tired of following the pattern.

  She wanted more. And, at this point, she was willing to take a chance with either Pete or Slade, but she wanted a commitment. A real commitment. She wanted to know they (either Slade or Pete) were past the dabbling stage—and, until she had that promise, she was done. Time to act like a grownup.

  Michelle’s funeral time was printed in the paper, and Codie decided to go. She had to use vacation leave time from work to get paid, but they actually gave her the time off with little flak for a change, because a couple of them knew Michelle—or knew of her—and had seen how much the woman’s death had affected Codie over the past week.

  Codie hadn’t expected Slade to accompany her, but he showed up at her door that Thursday mornin
g about half an hour before she was ready to go. She answered the door to see her handsome ex dressed in black from head to toe save the white button-down shirt under the jacket (nothing too unusual) and, before she could stop herself, said, “Slade? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I thought you could use some company.”

  She burst into tears then, those watery things that had, till now, refused to fall. She hadn’t yet cried over Michelle, but having Slade do something so thoughtful and considerate, something he rarely did, helped her let it all out. He pulled her into his chest and let her sob until she needed to blow her nose. And she wouldn’t admit it out loud—not yet, at any rate—but Slade’s arms around her in her time of need brought some of the comfort she’d been looking for as she’d tried to understand what had brought Michelle to the dark place that had caused her to end her time on the planet.

  Codie grabbed a tissue and then turned back around. Slade had let her go but she could still feel the warmth and weight of his arms around her. “How did you know?”

  His smile was genuine and warm, something rare and beautiful, like a black pearl. “I know my girl.”

  Her heart thawed then but she knew she had to be careful. In this vulnerable state, it would be so easy to take Slade back for the gazillionth time. She had to proceed with caution. “Well, thank you.”

  They were quiet as she sat in the passenger side of his air-conditioned car, but having him by her side right now felt more natural than anything else could. A few blocks from the funeral home, Slade asked, “How long had you known her, Codie?”

  She let her mind wander back to the time she’d gone to school with Michelle. It seemed so long ago and yet it had only been four years since they’d been in certified nursing assistant classes, aiming for employment after completion and losing touch shortly after. She told Slade and then added, “She was just so young and…she had all of life in front of her. You know those people who seem ready to jump off the first bridge they walk across ‘cause they just ooze a sad feeling?” Slade gave a slight nod but kept his eyes on the road. “Well, Michelle was the exact opposite. You’d smile just being around her. She was just always beaming from ear to ear. You always hear that every day is a gift—Michelle was one of those people who lived that.”