by Kara Lennox
“Mmm, that’s a nice way to wake up,” she said.
“I thought it was a particularly annoying buzz.”
“Not the clock. This.” She touched the back of his hand, then reached across her body to his and discovered he was as hard as a two-by-four.
“Oh, sorry.”
“Sorry? You gotta be kidding.” She ran her hand along the length of him, then swung one leg over him and pressed her breasts against his chest, letting the light, springy hair there abrade her nipples.
“Whoa.”
Before he could lodge any more objections, she kissed him, long and low and lingering. “Ready for another round?”
“Oh, yeah. Wait a minute. What’s your name?”
“I don’t remember.” She trailed a row of kisses along his jaw and down to his neck.
“Uh, what’s your address?”
“Hollywood and Vine.”
“What’s…oh, hell, I can’t remember the question. What’s the date?”
“Bastille Day.”
“Good enough for me.”
FORD GOT LITTLE SLEEP that night, but he didn’t care. Watching over Robyn while she slept in his arms was worth missing a few z’s. Plus, they made love three times.
When the sun came up, he eased himself out of bed but let Robyn sleep. He wanted to stay there with her. Stay there all day, shutting out the rest of the world.But as unwise as last night’s decision to bed her had been, lingering over the sex would just heap on more stupidity. He wouldn’t undo what he’d done for anything. Last night was an experience he would take with him to his grave even if he lived to be a hundred years old.
But now they had a job to do. He had to put his desires for Robyn out of his mind. That meant he had to put some distance between him and her naked body.
By the time he finished with his shower, he could hear running water in the guest room. Good, he wouldn’t have to wake her. He shaved, dressed with a little more care than usual, and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Eggs, toast, fruit, yogurt. He and Robyn both needed to replenish their energy reserves, and he intended to make her eat a good breakfast.
He was just taking the eggs out of the frying pan when Robyn entered the kitchen. Though he tried to steel himself from reacting to the sight of her, his heart still flipped over. She was wearing the velour workout clothes Jillian had left for her. They clung to the curves of her body in a way that made his mouth go dry. But her makeup-free face and the tousled tumble of her hair made her look young and vulnerable, too.
“Good morning,” she said tentatively.
“Yeah, it is. You didn’t get your stitches wet, did you?” Probably not the most romantic thing he could have said. But they needed to transition away from romantic and back to businesslike.
“Um, no. I didn’t get my head wet. I’ll need help wrapping my wrist, but that’ll keep till after breakfast. You cook?”
“Just scrambled eggs and toast. I believe in a good breakfast. If I ever make any other meal for you, it’s likely to be sandwiches. Hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving, actually. I can’t remember when I’ve been so hungry.”
Good, he wouldn’t have to force-feed her.
“What’s on the agenda today?” She picked up their two plates from the counter and carried them to his kitchen table, a white, glass-topped modern thing as impractical as all the other furniture.
“First, we go to your apartment and pick up anything you’ll need for the next couple of days. You can either stay in my guest room, or you can stay at Daniel’s estate.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m sure whoever broke in won’t be back.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not. Every minute I spend worrying about your welfare is a minute I can’t devote to proving Eldon’s innocence. There’s coffee. Help yourself.”
She sighed as she poured herself some coffee, managing well with just one hand. “You’re being unreasonable. I have classes to teach.”
“It’s Saturday. Your next class isn’t until Tuesday. When the time comes, I can drive you. Or if I can’t, Daniel will provide a driver.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
He brought a bottle of orange juice and two cartons of yogurt to the table. “Maybe, but that’s how it’s gonna be.”
“Tyrant,” she muttered as she set her steaming mug on the table. “If you weren’t feeding me this lovely breakfast, I’d be pissed off.”
He was pleased to see Robyn eating without prompting for a change. Two eggs, two pieces of toast, a glass of juice and at least some of the yogurt disappeared. He cleaned his own plate and struggled to keep his mind on work rather than letting his gaze stray to the intriguing shadow between her breasts, barely peeking out above the front zipper of her velour top.
“What next?” she asked as she drained her second cup of coffee.
“Let’s go to your place. Maybe your intruder left some evidence. At least we can make sure the apartment is secure and you can grab whatever you need.”
“Okay.” She took their dishes to the dishwasher. “I’ll need to change clothes anyway. Velour is nice in your air-conditioned apartment, but wildly impractical for triple-digit temperatures.”
He put away the leftovers and turned off the coffee. “Do we need to talk about last night?” he asked suddenly.
“Not unless you want to.” Her reply was light, almost indifferent. And he didn’t buy it for a minute.
“I feel like I should apologize.”
“Definitely not necessary.” She closed the dishwasher and turned to face him. “We both wanted it. We both needed it. It kind of cleared the air, don’t you think?”
“Not exactly.” It wasn’t as if he didn’t want her as sharply as ever. Except it was worse, because now he knew what it was like to be inside of her, to hear the soft moans she made in the throes of pleasure, to feel the soft skin of her breasts.
He was at a loss. Conversations like these were one of the things that drove him and Kathy apart. He was supposed to guess what was going on in her head, and if he guessed wrong, it meant he didn’t care.
Maybe it wasn’t fair to compare Robyn with Kathy. The two women were nothing alike. But he still had no idea what was going on inside Robyn’s head.
“If you were mad, you’d tell me, right?”
“Ford, of course. I’m not mad. If I had to wake up every hour and endure twenty questions, that was a helluva way to make it more pleasant.”
Pleasant? Talk about understatement. How about mind-blowing?
But it would be stupid—even more stupid—to dwell on it. Not when the experience was never to be repeated.
ROBYN SWALLOWED BACK tears a dozen times on the drive to Green Prairie. Ford made small talk, and she responded appropriately, she thought. But his businesslike attitude confused her.
She wasn’t angry. She hadn’t lied about that. But she was hurt. She’d thought last night they had crossed a threshold, that they would be closer now. Crazy as it seemed, she’d even dared to believe they could have a future. Maybe not the white-picket-fence forever kind of future, but at least a future where they’d be closer than they’d been before.She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed physical intimacy. Sharing something with one other human being that no one else could understand. Making love with Ford had worked like a soothing balm on her battered soul, and she wanted more.
Apparently she wasn’t going to get more. Ford viewed last night as a mistake, a lapse in judgment, something to apologize for. And she had no choice but to go along. It would be futile to chase him or long for something that could never be.
He had warned her, after all, that making love was against his better judgment.
When they reached her apartment, it took Ford only a few minutes to figure out how the intruder had gained access. He’d broken a small bathroom window and squeezed through.
A neighbor, or maybe the manager, had been kind enough to nail a couple of boards over the broken pane, so it wouldn’t be easy for
someone else to break in.
“You weren’t kidding your attacker was small. A grown man would have a hard time squeezing through that hole,” Ford observed.
“So it almost had to be a teenager,” Robyn said. “See? Probably not related to our investigation at all.”
“Teenagers can be hired,” Ford pointed out. “Until we know otherwise, we’re going to treat this as if someone was trying to hurt you.”
Robyn didn’t argue because it was like a sheep bleating at a solid wood fence, expecting it to open.
She quickly changed into a cool cotton blouse and one of her more decent pairs of jeans, then gathered up the few things she would need—some more clothes and toiletries. She watered the wilted plants on her balcony, threw away some sad-looking tomatoes and half a head of lettuce, and gathered up the trash to take to the Dumpster so she wouldn’t end up with ants, or worse, those giant flying cockroaches that loved the Houston climate so much.
The last stop she made was the mail room. A large, padded envelope had been stuffed into her box. She was puzzled by the return address, until she remembered about the wig shop receipts. Pleased that the shop owner had acted so quickly, Robyn tucked the package under her arm, sifted through the rest of the mail—all junk, which she tossed in the recycle can—and eagerly opened the padded envelope.
There were about a dozen receipts enclosed. Her heart beating wildly, she sifted through them quickly, noting the names: Vera Stearns, Chloe Bellflower, Amos Jones—Amos Jones? Well, maybe he was buying a wig for his wife.
Conscious that Ford would be waiting for her, she ran out to the parking lot, where she’d spied Ford’s car. She threw everything into the backseat except the handful of receipts and climbed in.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Wig shop receipts. I accidentally had them sent to my home address.” She reviewed more names— Cynthia Ludlow, Bella Orizaba, Jasmine Tyson. None of the names…wait. Bella Orizaba…
“You got something?” Ford asked.
“Not really. It’s just that name Bella Orizaba sounds kind of familiar to me. But I can’t quite place it.”
“We’ll have someone check it out.”
Deflated that she hadn’t immediately found a clue to the wig buyer, she quickly flipped through the rest of the receipts, then shoved them back in the envelope. “I guess I was just hoping for a lightbulb to suddenly go off. You know?”
“Don’t lose hope, Robyn. The receipts were a long shot, but we’ve got more to go on now. Raleigh said that Roy’s statement might actually be useful in overturning the verdict.”
“Really?”
“Possibly.”
She could tell he didn’t want her to get her hopes up, so she tempered her newfound optimism. “So, what now?” she asked brightly.
“We’re meeting Raleigh and Daniel. I’m going to present what evidence we have to Daniel and see where we stand.”
Uneasiness bloomed in Robyn’s chest. She’d never met the man, but she knew Daniel Logan was the ultimate decision-maker. He had authorized Ford to take on Eldon’s case, and he could just as easily un-authorize it if he thought it was a waste of time.
“So, I finally get to meet the mysterious Daniel. What’s he like?”
Ford actually smiled. “You’ll see.”
“IT’S NOT ENOUGH,” Daniel said. He was stretched out on a foam raft in his ridiculously huge swimming pool, sipping some fruity drink with a paper umbrella and doing something with his high-tech phone.
Ford sat perched on a cedar deck chair near the edge of the pool. Robyn and Raleigh were nearby, sitting at a table with an umbrella. At eleven o’clock in the morning, the heat was already punishing.Daniel did this kind of thing all the time. Anyone who wanted a piece of his time had to take it on Daniel’s terms, usually on his turf. He seldom left his estate, and why would he? He had everything here any man could want—swimming pool, horses and a practice polo field, tennis courts, and a lot of people he paid to keep things humming along.
The one thing Daniel did not have was a woman. Although something of a playboy before his arrest, he had not been romantically attached to a woman since. If he had any kind of love life, he managed to keep it private.
Not that a lot of women hadn’t tried to catch Daniel’s attention. They wrote him love letters, sent gifts and stood outside the gates of his home and stared in, hoping for a glimpse of him. One had even managed to get herself smuggled into his home inside a grocery delivery truck.
Daniel greeted it all with bemusement. He truly didn’t understand his own appeal to women.
For the past few minutes, Ford had been laying out the case for Eldon’s innocence—the wig fiber, the identity of the woman he’d been with that night, and most importantly, the existence of a witness whose statement, which tended to support the kidnapping theory, had been expunged from the official police report.
Raleigh interjected her legal opinion every so often. Robyn remained utterly silent. Ford had debated whether it was wise to bring her. But if all else failed, he hoped an emotional request might persuade Daniel that he should continue to pour resources into the case.
Robyn was pretty darn compelling.
Daniel appeared to be absorbed in his phone, but Ford wasn’t fooled. The man was a master at multi-tasking. He had heard every word Ford and Raleigh had spoken.
Finally he set his phone aside, placing it in the raft’s cup holder. Ford wondered how many phones he went through because he accidentally dunked them.
Daniel looked up and removed his sunglasses. “It’s not enough,” he said again.
Ford exchanged a look with Raleigh. Her face didn’t change, but she was adept at hiding reactions and feelings. Then he looked at Robyn, and he immediately felt an urge to go to her, put his arms around her. She looked devastated. This would be a good time for that emotional appeal, though he hadn’t coached her about this. If it didn’t come naturally, Daniel would see through it immediately.
“So, are we calling this one early?” Ford asked.
“I didn’t say it was hopeless,” Daniel said. “It’s just not enough for the governor. One of James Redmond’s campaign promises was that he would be tough on crime. He doesn’t stay an execution for a convicted child killer without irrefutable physical evidence, or a confession from a person other than the one behind bars.”
“So what do you suggest?” Ford asked, relieved that Daniel hadn’t said he was pulling the plug. Not that Ford would have given up. On or off the payroll, he would continue working on this case up to the minute of Eldon’s execution. He owed it to Robyn after all he’d put her through.
“The witness in Montana,” Daniel said. “Roy White. Give him an all-expense-paid trip to Houston. Put him up in a nice hotel. And take him to see Dr. Ellison.”
Dr. Ellison was Project Justice’s consulting psychologist. She was a master at hypnotic regression. “So you think Roy should undergo hypnosis?”
“Your only chance at this point is if Roy can remember a description of that car in the parking lot, and perhaps a license plate. Even a partial one. That’s the only thing that might lead you to an alternate suspect. Governor Redmond might stay an execution if he has another suspect to focus on.”
Raleigh cleared her throat. “If we hypnotize Mr. White, he’ll be useless as a witness later on. You can’t put a witness on the stand who has undergone hypnosis—”
“I’m aware of the law, Raleigh.” Daniel said this not as a reprimand. He just didn’t like wasting time. “I’m more interested in right now. It’s the prosecutor’s problem if a star witness can’t testify.”
It would be their problem, too, if Eldon were granted a new trial. But Ford knew better than to argue. Daniel had analyzed the data he’d been provided, made an assessment, and decided on a course of action. It was what he did best. And once Daniel set a course, he stuck to it.
“Put some more pressure on the woman, too,” Daniel said.
“Heather?”
“I’ll get on it.”
“Good. Will you all stay for lunch? Chef Claude is making crab salad.”
Raleigh stood and picked up her briefcase. “I can’t, Daniel. I have some papers to file for the Simonetti case. But thank you.”
As if by magic, Jillian Baxter, Daniel’s assistant, appeared to show Raleigh out.
Robyn stood, too. “I appreciate the invitation, Mr. Logan.” It was the first time she’d spoken since being introduced. “But we have five days to find better evidence, and I’m determined not to waste a minute of it.” She looked at Ford, daring him to challenge her.
“We have a long to-do list,” Ford agreed, closing his notebook and standing. He would be glad to return to air-conditioning. “But I appreciate the offer.”
“Rain check, then.” Daniel paddled his raft to the shallow end and stood up, rising out of the water almost like a god of the pool. He met them as they headed toward the house, but he addressed Robyn. “I know this is difficult, believe me. Don’t give up. You haven’t lost yet. I’m not being hard-hearted—you understand that, right? I’ll have one chance with the governor. It would be a shame to waste it at this point.”
Robyn nodded. “I understand.”
“I hear you became the victim of a crime yourself yesterday. You’re welcome to stay here, if you like.”
“That’s very generous of you, Mr. Logan.”
“Daniel, please.”
“Daniel, then.” Robyn nodded, obviously touched by Daniel’s gesture. When he chose to reveal his caring side, people had a hard time not responding to it, Robyn included. “But Ford has a perfectly adequate guest room. Since we’re working together, it’s a little easier if I just stay with him.”
A tightness in Ford’s chest eased, and he realized with a start that he’d been worried she would choose Daniel over him. And who would blame her? Half the women in the country would give their eyeteeth to stay at Daniel’s estate.