by Kara Lennox
“And you changed careers.”
“Yeah. But it turns out I can do as much harm on the other side of the fence.”
Katherine Hannigan again. She suspected that case was never far from his thoughts.
In a gesture that felt perfectly natural, Robyn placed her hand on Ford’s arm. “Everybody does the best they can. You can’t go through life believing you’ll never make a mistake.”
She expected him to close up. He had the last time this subject had come up. Instead, he sighed, as if giving in to her. “Yeah, but you can put yourself in a place where your mistakes don’t spell life and death for other people.”
“If everyone thought that way, we wouldn’t have any doctors or lawyers or cops. Humans aren’t perfect, and they never can be.”
“There comes a time, Robyn, when the mistakes pile up and you have to take yourself out of the game. I only hope I don’t add the Eldon Jasperson case to my list of failings.”
“Ford. Even I know this is a long shot. If we can’t save Eldon—” Her voice caught. She shouldn’t be this emotional about her ex-husband. But she’d only recently come to terms with the fact that he might actually be executed.
She swallowed a couple of times. “If we can’t save Eldon, as least we know we tried. It’s all anyone can ask.”
Ford placed his hand on hers. “Thank you.”
ROBYN AND FORD SAID LITTLE during the flight home from Montana. Ford had spent most of the flight making notes to himself in a pad of paper he kept with him constantly. Robyn dozed.
She woke once, appalled that she’d been leaning her head on Ford’s rock-hard shoulder. “Oh, sorry.”“It’s okay,” Ford said. “I’m glad you could sleep.”
“Hmm, it is a little strange I’m not clinging to the ceiling.” She was just too tired to be nervous.
“This flight has been a lot smoother than the last one. Feel free to nap some more, we’re still an hour out. You can use me for a pillow anytime.”
How about tonight? In her bed. She was so exhausted, she almost blurted her thoughts aloud. Spending so much time with Ford, feeling an attraction she couldn’t act on, was taking its toll.
She suspected—no, she knew—that Ford felt something for her on a physical level. But even if they didn’t have that disagreeable high school history hanging over them, he wouldn’t act on his desire now. She was his client, and anything that happened between them would be a breach of ethics.
Ford was nothing if not a rule follower. He wouldn’t cross that line, not easily.
But after she ceased to be his client? If he succeeded in freeing Eldon?
She let herself fantasize about that for all of five seconds. In bed, they might create fireworks. But she was afraid they would create fireworks elsewhere, too. They were too different. Yeah, he’d apologized, but how many years had it taken for him to see that he might have made a mistake?
One apology didn’t mean he’d changed. He still saw everything in black and white, right and wrong. She, on the other hand, wanted to give everyone a second chance, the benefit of the doubt. She saw everything as positioned on an infinite spectrum. Shades of gray.
They would always be at odds.
She did doze some more, but she pointedly leaned her head against the window.
It was after dark by the time Ford pulled up to the curb in front of Robyn’s apartment. They were both exhausted after what felt like the longest day in history.
“Do you want me to walk you to your front door?” Ford asked.
Lord, no. If she got the man within a hundred feet of her bed she’d be on him like a flea on a dog, never mind the fatigue.
“We’re in Green Prairie, remember? With one notable exception, we don’t have violent crime here.”
He didn’t look convinced, so she grabbed her purse and carry-on bag, which sat at her feet, and made a quick escape.
As she fitted her key into the lock and turned it, she waved to Ford, and his Crown Vic eased away from the curb.
A moment later, she had every reason to wish he’d walked her up after all. Something in her apartment felt strange. She reached for the light switch, but before she connected, a shape came flying at her, knocking her to the ground. Her purse went sailing. She tried to break her fall with her left hand and succeeded only in wrenching it as she fell hard onto her left elbow. Her attacker scrambled upright and tried to escape out the front door, but Robyn, mindlessly angry, lashed out with her legs and tripped him. He fell on top of her and they tousled for a few seconds before Robyn came to her senses and stopped struggling.
“Just get out,” she said. “I won’t stop you. There’s no reason to hurt me. It’s too dark and I can’t identify—”
The intruder shoved Robyn and she hit her head on the tile floor. Technicolor fireworks exploded behind her eyes. The next thing she knew, the intruder was gone, leaving behind only the lingering smell of sweat and fear mixed with the strange, incongruent smell of coconut.
Robyn started to rise, but it was dark and every thing was spinning. The only thing she could make out was her glowing cell phone, which had apparently spilled from her purse.
She grabbed it with her uninjured arm and dialed.
“Robyn?”
Just the sound of Ford’s voice calmed her. “Yes, it’s me. Someone was in my apartment.”
“Holy hell,” he muttered. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. He’s gone now.”
“I’m three minutes away. Lock the door until I get there, and stay on the phone.”
She didn’t think she could stand, but she didn’t want to tell him that or he would be more alarmed than necessary. “Okay.” Her voice trembled like a little girl’s.
Robyn counted the seconds until she heard his footsteps coming up the walkway. “Robyn, it’s me,” he called out. “You can unlock the door now.”
No need. She’d managed to nudge the door closed with her foot, but that was as far as she’d gotten.
Ford opened the door and flipped on the light, al most tripping over her in his haste to get inside the apartment.
“Whatever you do, don’t trip,” Robyn said. “This tile floor is deadly.”
“Holy shit.” He dropped to one knee and grabbed her cell phone and punched furiously at the keypad. “My friend’s been attacked,” he said, urgently, but in a steady, even voice. “I need an ambulance.” He rattled off her address.
“Ford,” Robyn objected. “That’s not necessary.”
“The hell it isn’t.” He returned his attention to the phone. “Look, I’m a former cop, and I know when an ambulance is needed. I’m capable of doing first aid without your coaching. Just send the paramedics.” He set the phone down, but left the channel open. “Robyn, honey, where are you hurt?”
That’s when Robyn saw all the blood. Her blood, soaking her clothes, smeared on the floor. Her universe shrank to the size of a pinhole. Distantly, she could hear Ford calling her name, but she couldn’t seem to answer.
CHAPTER TEN
FORD HADN’T BEEN THIS SCARED since the night his partner had been shot. He’d walked the waiting room of another hospital that night, but this one looked the same. The hollow feeling in his gut felt the same, too.
Words couldn’t describe how he’d felt when he saw Robyn on the floor and all that blood. If he ever found out who’d hurt her, he would strangle them with his bare hands.“Ford?”
He looked up, surprised to see Raleigh standing next to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Daniel sent me. He said you sounded pretty upset on the phone. How is she?”
He sighed. “A cut on the back of her head, definite concussion, possible broken arm. She lost consciousness, but only for a few seconds, so I’m hoping it’s not too serious. They’re just checking her over.”
“Oh. Oh, that’s good. The way Daniel described it—”
“I overreacted.” He’d been terrified, and he’d needed to tell someone. Daniel had seemed a good choice. He w
as the closest thing Ford had to a best friend, and he was a person who could cut through red tape and get things done.
He hadn’t expected Daniel to send in reinforcement troops.
“You don’t have to stay,” he said, eyeing Raleigh curiously. She looked different tonight.
“I don’t mind hanging around. A hospital waiting room is no place to be alone. And stop staring. You’ve never seen me out of my lawyer uniform, that’s all.”
He snapped his gaze away. No one would accuse Raleigh of being warm and fuzzy.
She was right, though. In all the time he’d worked with Raleigh, he’d never seen her wearing anything but those frumpy suits she favored and her flat, sensible shoes. Her armor.
Tonight she had on faded jeans, a clingy red T-shirt and scuffed cowboy boots. Her hair was damp, as if she’d just washed it, but it wasn’t slicked back in her usual style. Instead, she’d braided it loosely and tied the end of the braid with a ribbon.
Any other woman, he’d have told her she looked nice. But Raleigh might misinterpret the comment, and he knew she did not respond well to even the mildest flirtation. So he let it drop.
“As long as you’re here,” he said instead, “I’ll tell you about Roy White.”
Over the next few minutes, he brought her up to speed on Roy’s statement.
“It’s not as much as I was hoping for,” Ford said.
“No, but it’s something.” Raleigh was now fully in lawyer mode. “This statement proves what we suspected. The Green Prairie Police rushed to judgment. They destroyed exculpatory evidence because it didn’t support the conclusion they’d already drawn—that Eldon was lying, that he’d killed his own son. Regardless of the merit of Roy’s statement, the fact that it once existed, yet did not become part of the case file, could be enough to get the verdict overturned.”
“Really?”
“We can sure try. Let’s get back to Robyn. Do you think the assault on her is connected?”
The small surge of optimism he felt quickly dissipated when he was reminded of Robyn. “I feel sure it is. Green Prairie isn’t exactly a hotbed of violent crime.”
Which meant he was responsible for her injuries. He should have known she might be in danger. She was working—very publicly—to free her ex-husband from prison by proving he was innocent. The real murderer might feel threatened by her actions and try to put a stop to them.
“It would be convenient if the real murderer tipped his hand,” Raleigh said.
“Not at the expense of more innocent people getting hurt.”
“No, of course not. But if you’re right, the killer is getting desperate. Did you call the police, by the way?”
“Yeah. They thought I was the one who assaulted her. Bunch of yahoos.” If Robyn hadn’t regained consciousness just as they were about to put the cuffs on him, he’d be in jail right now.
“Do I need to step in?”
“No, it’s straightened out. They’re treating it as a run-of-the-mill break-in, and I don’t feel inclined to correct them. Local cops would just muddy the waters.”
Raleigh nodded, apparently agreeing with his statement.
A nurse walked into the waiting room, smiling in a place that didn’t see many smiles. “Are you Ford?”
He jumped to his feet. “Yes. How is she?”
“You can see for yourself. Room two.”
“I’m taking off,” Raleigh said. “Have to be in court early in the morning.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Hey, when Daniel says jump, I ask how high. But I would have come anyway,” she added quickly. “Project Justice is the closest thing to family I have.”
He hadn’t known that about Raleigh. In fact, he didn’t know personal details of anyone’s life. He kept to himself, maybe too much. It felt a little strange, having Raleigh consider him part of her “family.”
Robyn smiled brightly when he entered her treatment room. She was pale and had bandages around her head and her left wrist and hand. An IV pumped something into her arm. Otherwise, though, she looked pretty good. No blood, anyway.
He couldn’t help himself. He reached her gurney in two long strides and gathered her into a hug, a gentle one. “You scared the life out of me, woman.”
“I’m okay, really, Ford. No broken bones.”
He didn’t want to let her go, especially because she was hugging him back with her uninjured arm. She felt so good, warm and alive. Her hair was damp against his cheek and smelled of hospital soap.
“There was so much blood,” he said.
“All from one small cut in my scalp. The doctor took four stitches. Now I have a bald patch.”
“But you were unconscious. Don’t you have a concussion?” He pulled back to study her eyes. They looked normal; the pupils were the same size.
“I have a mild concussion,” she confirmed, “and a sprained wrist. That’s it.”
He forced himself to let her go. “I’m so sorry, Robyn. I should have known you might be in danger.”
She smiled again. “Hey, you offered to walk me to the door. I’m the one turned you down.”
“I should have insisted—”
“Ford. You can’t take responsibility for every bad thing that happens around you.”
“I’m not leaving you alone again,” he declared. “Not until this thing with Eldon is settled. If some maniac is out there trying to kill you—”
“No, no, Ford, you’ve got it wrong. This can’t be related to the case. The person who attacked me was really small—had to be a kid. He probably broke in looking for something he could pawn for drugs.”
“Are you sure?”
“He fell on top of me, and he wasn’t that heavy. This definitely wasn’t someone out to kill me, or they’d have done a better job. He was just trying to get out, and I was in the way.”
Ford wanted to take comfort in her explanation. But it seemed like such a coincidence for Robyn to become a crime victim at this particular time in her life. He didn’t trust coincidence.
“Stop worrying,” she said sternly. “No way the kid could have been involved in Justin’s disappearance. He’d have probably been in grammar school at the time.”
“Maybe there’s no connection. But you could be in danger. We’re going to be more careful from now on.”
She reached up and lightly caressed his cheek. “Thank you for caring.”
He realized he did care, far more than was advisable. How had this woman gotten under his skin?
Hell, he knew the answer. She’d been there since high school. But the girl on whom he’d had a silent, hopeless crush had matured into a smart, compassionate woman, the only woman he’d contemplated a relationship with since his divorce.
Not that she’d even consider it. She’d accepted his apology. But what he did to her in high school would always be between them.
A doctor walked in—young, Hispanic, not very authoritative or doctorly, which didn’t fill Ford with confidence. The doctor nodded to Ford, but spoke to Robyn. “How are you feeling, Ms. Jasperson?”
“Fine, since you gave me those nice pain meds.”
Ah. That might explain why she seemed so cheerful, holding on to his hand as if he was a boyfriend instead of a… What was he to Robyn, anyway? More than a colleague, it seemed. She’d called on him to help her in a crisis, rather than dialing 911, which would have been the sane thing to do.
“I’m going to let you go home,” the doctor said. “But you have a concussion. Is there someone who can wake you up once every hour?”
Robyn frowned. “Umm, I guess I could go to—”
“I’ll do it.” Ford was the logical choice.
“You don’t have to do that.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes even bigger than usual.
He felt an almost irresistible urge to kiss her. “Yes, I do. You’ll go home with me. My building has better security than yours.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he didn’t let her. “I’m not giving you a choice in thi
s. I can’t work to free Eldon and worry about you, too.”
She looked at him mutinously for a couple of seconds, then caved. “Okay.”
He suspected if she weren’t high on pain meds, she would have argued more.
The fact she was drugged up was a good thing, he decided. No matter how tempted he was to claim her, he wouldn’t, not when she was injured and without all of her faculties. He couldn’t take advantage of her that way.
Maybe by the time she’d recovered, the temptation to do something utterly stupid would have passed.
ROBYN COULDN’T BELIEVE she’d agreed to stay at Ford’s. She should have argued that she would be fine. But the codeine had muddled her thinking, and she’d found herself nodding and agreeing to whatever he suggested.
A few minutes later, her discharge papers and a prescription in hand, Robyn let herself be helped into the passenger seat of Ford’s car.She had to admit, she felt safer with him at her side. Despite her bravado, the assault had shaken her. She hadn’t felt this vulnerable since she’d been a kid. Back then, one of her mother’s boyfriends had hit her, and her mom, who was supposed to protect her, had done nothing to stop it.
“Do you want to stop at the drugstore and get that scrip filled?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.” She didn’t like the fuzzy thinking, and the pain wasn’t that bad. “If you have some Tylenol, that will do.”
“I do.”
“Where do you live, anyway?” she asked.
“Not far from the Project Justice offices. Daniel owns an apartment building downtown. He encourages his employees to live there. It’s roomy and comfortable enough, and the rent is reasonable.”
She was more than curious to see what kind of space Ford occupied. Would it be spartan, with only the bare minimum needed to survive? Or would it be a messy bachelor pad, crammed with junk?
“Did your wife live there when you were married?” She was appalled by her own question, but her usual polite reserve had deserted her, along with any manners, apparently.
He didn’t seem to mind the question. “Nah, I lived on the city fringe when I was married. Suburbia, though it was still within the Houston city limits. Nasty commute.”