And he needed to talk to Gabi.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“THAT WAS GREAT.”
Taking her eye from the path in front of them, Gabi turned to look at Liam. “Yeah, it was.”
Marie, who wasn’t fond of skating in temperatures so cold that her nose hairs froze, had opted to stay at the shop.
And she was busy—one of her nighttime part-timers had called in sick. If Liam hadn’t needed to have this talk, Gabi would have stayed with her.
They’d skated ten miles at top speed—five out and five back—and were slowly coasting down the path as dusk started to fall. As cold as it was, they were the only two out that afternoon, but she was glad to have had the exercise.
To work off some of the weird tension that had been bottling up over Liam.
But she couldn’t shake the guilt she felt about going off with him without Marie. It just wasn’t something either of them ever did.
She’d seen Marie’s look when she’d waved them off. She’d been smiling. But confused, too. Gabi would make it right with her. As soon as they got home.
She’d tell Marie how Liam was paranoid and had needed to talk away from the building.
“I’m not going to put the two of you in danger.” His breath came easy, even after ten miles.
“We aren’t in any more danger today than a week ago,” she told him through her scarf. “Your dad’s a suspect in a white-collar crime. Not wanted by the Mafia.”
In an expensive-looking black jacket over sweats and a black knit cap to match, Liam didn’t seem to notice the cold. His cheeks were red, though.
His leather-gloved hand pulled her to a stop as they reached a lighted cement park area where different tracks converged. They faced each other toe to toe.
“I was approached today, Gabi,” he said. The seriousness in his gaze scared her. Where was the fun-loving playboy she’d always known? “By a guy wanting to be my bodyguard.”
The hissed intake of breath burned her lungs. The sensation dissipated quickly as they stood there, but the shock remained. She hadn’t yet told him what she’d found out that afternoon. They’d opted to skate a bit first.
But now she said, “From the inquiries I made today, I can tell you that something doesn’t add up. Everything points to your father. Everything.”
Liam’s chin tightened as he nodded. “So it is him. He’s guilty.” He spun away from her and then rolled back, scraping the cement with the force of his brake. “The man builds an empire out of nothing but hard work, acumen and integrity, and then throws it all away?” He shook his head.
And for a second there, he reminded her of the young college kid who’d just had his car keys stripped from him.
He started toward the parking lot and his car. Pushing off to catch up with him, Gabrielle said, “That’s just it, Liam. It’s too clear. Too clean. It doesn’t make sense.”
He slowed down and she almost ran into the back of him, having to grab his shoulders to steady herself. Even with gloves on her hands, she could feel his warmth.
Or thought she could. Which was crazy.
Even crazier, for a second there she’d wanted to lean up against him, lay her head on his back and just...feel him.
“It’s like he’s being set up,” she said, quickly snatching her hands back before he noticed her weird reaction.
Liam hadn’t moved. Nor responded to either her bumping into him or her words.
Glancing across several yards of parking lot, she looked to see what was holding his attention and started to shake. His pristine, shiny black BMW was covered with words written in a white substance, much like a bridal car after a wedding. Except the words definitely were not well-wishes.
Son of a thief.
Ill-gotten gains.
Better off dead.
There were at least six phrases. Repeated more than once.
“Liam? How could someone know we were here?” But it was obvious they’d been followed.
He didn’t say a word. Just unlaced his skates, slipped out of them and pulled out his cell phone.
Looking around them, noting just one other car in the lot—a light-colored SUV that hadn’t been there when they’d started out. Noting too that the little red car that had been there was gone, Gabi didn’t see any immediate danger. Relief flooded her anyway as she heard Liam’s words.
“I’d like to report a vandalized car...”
He’d called the police.
And she was glad.
* * *
HE’D FILED A REPORT. Waited with Gabrielle while a couple of officers checked the area and then, with an escort, driven the few short blocks to their building. When an officer offered to check the area, including their apartments, they’d both accepted. But had the cops look in on Marie first.
Liam had had them check the buildings for possible bugs and they’d reported back that all was clean.
It was a bit of overkill. Still, Liam was the son of a very rich man who’d just been arrested for stealing millions of dollars from innocent people. Gabi had given him one bit of news on that score—according to the arrest record, the Ponzi scheme had been discovered before damages outgrew Walter Connelly’s net worth.
The old man could afford to pay back the debt. Which would not only help him in court, but should prevent much of the public backlash he might have received if he’d left investors destitute.
“I’m happy to represent you, Liam, but I need you to put me down as your attorney of record,” Gabi said later that evening. The police had left with a promise to do all they could, but Liam knew paint on a car didn’t deserve law enforcement resources when there were murders and robberies and weapons in schools.
He’d already called his insurance company. He’d have a rental car, another BMW, in the morning and his own car back by Monday.
“I get access to a lot more information if I’m representing you,” she continued. The three of them were sitting at a table in the corner of Marie’s shop, having locked the doors and put up the closed sign as soon as the police left.
“Fine,” he told her, then added, “But I mean it, you two, I’m out of here if it looks like this is going to get dangerous for either of you.”
“What about that guy you said came by earlier today?” Marie asked. He’d told the police about Elliott Tanner, giving them the information from his card, with Marie and Gabrielle present. “Maybe you should hire him.”
“Or maybe he’s the one who’s behind this,” Gabi said. “You said he had an idea you might be in danger. Maybe he got someone to trash your car so you’d think you needed him.”
He didn’t think so. “He didn’t seem like the type of guy to resort to something so...unprofessional.” Or like an an out-and-out criminal. “People who run in my father’s circles, those who have a criminal bent, tend to be a lot more obscure. They live in shades of gray. Whoever went after my car was pretty clear with his message.”
“So call this Tanner guy,” Marie said again.
He intended to. Just as soon as he heard back from the Denver police that the man had checked out. He’d pretty much intended to anyway, just to keep the guy close. “Could you check him out for me, too?” he asked Gabi. “You have access to background information.”
“No more than the police do, but I’ll double-check him for you. And ask if anyone has ever heard of him.”
“I’m going to pay you for this,” he said now.
“We’ll work something out...”
“No.” He looked at the two of them. “I’m tired of being given preferential treatment, having favors done for me, being coddled. I will not relent on this. I want to hire you, Gabi. Right now you two are the only people in the world I trust.” He fixed his gaze on Gabi. “I’m going to be relying on you to give this as muc
h priority as you’d give any other personal, paying client.” Which he knew to be a lot.
Her look reminded him of the one she’d had in college when he’d confess his sins because he knew she’d give him the disdain he deserved. But he didn’t feel like that college student now. He wasn’t doing anything wrong.
To the contrary, for the first time in his life, Liam felt as though he was in control. Relying on himself to handle what he could on his own and paying for his own professionals to handle the rest.
“Fine.” Gabriele’s unsmiling expression was a bit off. Almost as though he’d hurt her feelings. Which was inane. But the feeling remained. Along with a sense that he needed to tend to it somehow. Later.
He’d been about to excuse himself to his apartment. To delve into his own financial files—looking at specific accounts this time—from the list Gabrielle had just given him. The list that was taken straight from the statement of alleged charges the FBI had compiled against his father. His ringing phone forestalled him.
It was the Denver police.
Heart pounding, his friends watching him with concerned gazes, he took the call. And heard that Elliott Tanner was exactly who he said he was. A professional private protector. He had no record. He was licensed and bonded with fingerprints on file with a national database.
At Marie’s urging, Liam called the man.
And before he went home that night had his own personal bodyguard.
In less than a month, his entire world had fallen apart, started over and changed again. He’d been disowned, thrown out of his home, found out his father wasn’t at all the strong, honest man he’d thought him to be, and he’d suddenly developed some uncomfortable sensitivities where Gabrielle was concerned.
The last bothered him most of all.
“If you have trouble sleeping, give us a call,” Marie said when the old elevator bumped to a stop on the girls’ floor before continuing on up to Liam’s.
He nodded. But knew he wouldn’t. He didn’t trust himself around Gabrielle any more that day.
And he didn’t want either one of the girls figuring out how far he was off his rocker. At least not until he was back on again. And then they could all three laugh about the time he’d thought he was attracted to Gabrielle.
* * *
LIAM WAS ONLY being considered a potential witness at the moment, so Gabrielle’s investigative rights were somewhat limited. She’d hoped that his father’s attorney, George Costas, would offer her some professional courtesy, but hadn’t counted on the fact. Not after the way the man had thrown Liam out of the office without even listening to what Liam had to say.
She’d left word with the FBI, requesting full access to evidence supporting the accusations against Walter Connelly, but figured her chances of being granted the right to study the evidence were less than winning the lottery.
And she didn’t play the lottery.
She’d hoped to be able to talk to a few of the people Liam had worked with at Connelly, but had been denied access to any of them.
She could follow his father’s case. And had put herself down as Liam’s attorney of record with the FBI, requiring them to contact her before approaching Liam.
She needed to do more.
Why she felt so pushed, she wasn’t sure. She gave complete focus to all of her clients when she was working on their cases, but Liam was different. And not just because he was a friend. She’d barely slept for thinking about him. For...feeling his pain. In ways she’d never felt for him before.
Which was completely...off.
Even if Liam woke up one morning and suddenly decided he was attracted to her, too, when things went bad—and they would, considering Liam’s inability to settle for one woman for more than six months at a time—their friendship would never be the same.
She wasn’t willing to lose their family over some latent desire to know what his kiss felt like.
The next morning, on her mandated coffee break at the legal aid office—which she rarely took—Gabrielle took herself outside, cell phone in hand. Naturally paranoid, she was now a bit more so when it came to Liam.
Now that she knew his father had some shady associates, at the very least. And, worst case scenario, was a crook.
The first call she made was to Elliott Tanner. She wanted a list of his clients. Not that she expected him to give it to her. Still, she had to try.
Of course he refused to give it to her without a court order. And would fight doing so even then.
He knew darn well she’d never get that order. Her client wasn’t even facing charges.
“If it’s any consolation to you, you have my word that I’m going to take good care of him,” the other man said, his deep voice sounding more trustworthy than intimidating.
Gabrielle wanted to believe him.
But she took his words with a huge grain of salt. If the man was out to spy on Liam, he certainly wasn’t going to come right out and say so. Which meant that Gabrielle and Marie were going to have to be extra diligent about watching his back.
The second call she made was to Walter Connelly. Turning her back to the wall of her building, Gabrielle watched the people walking past. A normal view. On a normal day.
There was no reason for the butterflies attacking her stomach.
She didn’t expect to be put through when she identified herself to Mr. Connelly’s secretary. The FBI had finished their investigation as promised, restoring his full access to his computers, and while all accounts relating to the Grayson deal were frozen, Connelly Investments had eggs in many baskets. Walter would be hard at work protecting those eggs.
“Ms. Miller, this is a surprise.” Walter Connelly’s voice boomed over the line. You’d never know the man was facing a large financial loss. Not to mention possibly twenty years to life in jail.
“Your son has hired me to represent him...”
“The fool’s going to sue me? Surely you’re smart enough to advise him to drop this ludicrous notion.”
“I can’t speak to you of Liam’s plans, sir, but I can assure you I’m not calling to talk about terms of a lawsuit.”
“So why are you calling?”
“To ask you about the alleged charges against you.”
“Liam hired you to look into my affairs?”
“The FBI questioned him. He’s a natural suspect. I’d be better able to represent his best interests if I had a clue what was really going on.”
“As soon as I have one, I’ll let you know.”
Why she’d thought the man might cooperate with her, she didn’t know. If she thought he’d do so for the sake of his son, she was the foolhardy one. He’d written Liam out of his will for buying an apartment building. And Walter Connelly had never made a secret of his feelings where Gabrielle and Marie were concerned. They were common girls. Unconnected. Not good enough for Liam Connelly.
Gabrielle he’d seemed to hate most. Where Marie might get a gruff hello on occasion, he’d looked right through Gabrielle. At least Marie came from a decent, upper-middle-class family. Gabrielle had grown up on food stamps.
She was freezing and needed to go back inside.
“Do you have my number?” she pushed him.
“I do. And I mean what I say,” he added. “You should know that about me by now. I do not yet know what’s going on, but I intend to. Very soon.”
“You didn’t do it.” Liam had made it clear the night before that he had no doubt to his father’s guilt.
“I did not.”
“For the record, I didn’t think you had,” she said. “Not after I read the reports.”
“Can I ask why not?”
“Because it’s too clean. Everything points to you. If you’d done this, you’d have things pointing in a million different directions.”
&nb
sp; “And from what knowledge base do you draw that conclusion?”
“I did my homework. The smart way to run a Ponzi scheme is to create a web of trails, intermixing legitimate ones with the phony ones that are then nearly impossible to trace. When it comes to business, you are a smart man.”
Her implication—that he wasn’t smart in another area—lay clearly between them.
She hadn’t called to insult him. But the way this man treated Liam...had always treated him... Gabrielle had to bite her tongue.
“You’ll pardon me if I find no merit in your opinions?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for your time.”
She hung up before he could dismiss her as easily as he’d dismissed his son.
Just after three that afternoon, she received a call from Agent Gwen Menard, who told her that she had been granted limited access to their files. Things that they were looking at for any potential connection to Liam. She could pick up copies of the information being made available to her by five o’clock that afternoon.
She was there at four forty-five.
And home, sharing copies with Liam, by five.
He greeted her at his door with a long, grateful look, eye to eye.
She felt it heart to heart. And brushed past him to open her briefcase.
She was there on business. Marie was downstairs. And when Gabrielle had told her she was going straight up to Liam rather than waiting just a few more minutes until Marie could get free and they could bring dinner up to him, Marie had given her a strange stare.
She could be imagining it. But she knew she wasn’t. Marie knew exactly what Gabrielle knew about Liam. They’d talked many times about his inability to settle for one woman for long. About how sorry they felt for the women who inevitably fell for him.
They both knew what would happen if either of them were ever stupid enough to fall for him themselves.
And Gabrielle was not going to do anything that would ultimately destroy their family.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LIAM SPENT EVERY minute of the weekend working. Like his father had done when Liam was growing up, he holed himself up in his home office—the newly converted kitchen in his second apartment—and came out only to eat. Sleep. And shower once.
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