THE PROSECUTOR

by Adrienne Giordano

  Get comfortable with your brother spending his life in prison and stop making trouble. Troublemakers in this city get dealt with. Sometimes the hard way.

  His neck went tight. Bam. Solid ache. He cracked it and let some of the tension snap free. In an effort not to miss anything, he went over the note a second time.

  After a third read, he glanced up at Emma who had her luscious eyes focused on him. “This is exactly what he said?”

  “Yes. I wrote it down the minute I got into the house. He also said no judge in Cook County would overturn Brian’s conviction. I didn’t write that down, though. It was too much to remember and I wanted to document the part about troublemakers before I forgot.”

  Zac took another two swallows of coffee and dumped the rest in the sink. He needed to nix this quick. “Wait here. I’m grabbing a quick shower then I’ll pay a visit to the good detective. You good with that?”

  “Am I going with you?”

  “If you want to. Otherwise, I’ll take you home. This is the kind of garbage—this pressuring witnesses—that got us into this mess in the first place. He needs to be called out.”

  A smile crept across Emma’s face. Obviously she had developed an affinity for conflict, for the clashing of wills. For war. Zac understood the intoxicating pull. No matter how gruesome the case, he experienced a natural high every time he stepped into a courtroom.

  “I’ll wait for you,” Emma said.

  * * *

  ZAC HENNINGS MIGHT BE as crazy as his sister.

  Emma loved it. Every inch of it. The look on his face when he read the note, all rock-hard and vicious, showed Emma a side of him she hadn’t seen before. He may have been the enemy, but he wanted to win fair and square. She appreciated that in him. Or maybe she was looking for something to like beyond how good his butt looked in track pants.

  She seriously had to get her head in the game. This guy could keep Brian in prison and pulverize what was left of her family. Thinking about him in a physical way, no matter how deprived of male attention she might be, would only destroy her.

  Focus was what she needed now. She’d been fighting for justice and now she had a chance. An attraction to Zac Hennings couldn’t derail that.

  Not today.

  Not tomorrow.

  Not any day.

  She took another swig of coffee. Sludge, really. Who could drink coffee so unbelievably strong?

  Splayed in front of her were stacks of folders and for no other reason than idle curiosity, not to mention boredom, she itched to take a peek.

  Not happening, though. He’d left her here, trusting her not to invade his privacy. She wouldn’t betray that trust. She glanced around the room. Just feet away stood the refrigerator, a plain white one with French doors and an ancient stove that anchored the laminate countertop. A no-fuss kitchen for a bachelor. Somehow she’d expected fancier from a guy whose father was a big-shot attorney. That’d teach her for prejudging.

  Needing a distraction, she went to the sink, poured the sludge down the drain and heard the shower go off. Talk about idle curiosity. She wouldn’t mind taking a gander at the country-club-rugged prosecutor wrapped in a towel. No shirt, skin still slick. She grunted. The way he filled out his shirts, she was darn sure it would be a pleasant experience. Yep. That would be a sight.

  “Wow, Emma,” she muttered. “You are a mess.”

  Mess or no mess, she stole a glance down the hall to see if he’d come out of the bathroom in a towel. Nothing. Not even a glimpse.

  Rotten luck. As usual.

  So I’m desperate. Big deal. Between the files and Zac naked, she had to move. The living room might be a better spot. On her way down the hall, she slowed when she reached a room with a half-open door. Bedroom. For kicks, she snuck a glance. Hey, if she couldn’t see him in a towel, she’d check out his bedroom. The room was surprisingly uncluttered, considering what his office and kitchen looked like. Maybe he’d thrown a pair of jeans into a corner, but the heavy cherry dresser was neat and polished.

  Behind her, the bathroom door flew open and even if her mind and body brawled over whether or not to sneak a peek, she scooted away. “I’m moving to the living room,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Everything okay?”

  Risking the sight of him in a towel, she spun around and found him fully clothed in jeans and a crisp button-down shirt. “Yep. Your files were distracting me.”

  He angled back to the kitchen, the potential error of his ways hitting home and she held up her hand. “I swear I didn’t look. I removed my overly curious self from the area.”

  For many reasons.

  “Thank you for not looking. None of them are your brother’s files, but...”

  “I know,” Emma said. “As much as my brain likes activity, you trusted me. I wanted to respect that.”

  Zac moved closer and the smell of his soap, something clean and pure—salt air—reached her. His blond hair was still damp and somehow, even more than if she’d seen him in that towel, Zac Hennings drew every ounce of her attention.

  “You are something else, Emma. Straightforward. No drama. I like that.”

  The compliment burrowed inside and a rush of happiness lit into her. He’s not the guy for you. Even if she had thousands of arguments, none of them could be justified. Not if Brian’s freedom became the casualty. She shrugged. “I am what I am. Life hasn’t exactly gone as planned, but I refuse to give in to it. There’s a happy ending for my family somewhere. I’m not sure when or how, but I know it’s out there.”

  He watched her for a few seconds, his eyes intense and unwavering and all that determined male attention made her legs a little wobbly. She needed a man. Preferably one like Zac Hennings.

  Soon.

  Finally, he broke away. “I hope you find that happy ending. Your mother and brother are lucky to have you.”

  Down deep, she knew that. Sure, there were times she admitted to herself, she’d like to run away, just disappear somewhere, hit the RESET button and start over, but she didn’t have it in her to walk away. She loved her family too much.

  But suddenly, the small space of silence between her and Zac filled with crackling energy and Emma’s pulse jackhammered. She couldn’t take it anymore. All this thinking about naked, hot prosecutors and running away and freedom, it was almost too much. A prize dangling just out of reach.

  “I...um.” She shook her head. Don’t know.

  Zac looked away. Thank you. He turned to the small side table and scooped up a set of keys. “Let’s hunt down our rogue detective.”

  Chapter Five

  After calling and confirming Detective Leeks was working, Zac left Emma in the car and climbed the few stairs leading to Area 2 headquarters. The short walk gave him a minute to clear his traitorous mind because, seriously, how many times would he have to shut down thoughts of Emma under him and moaning. He had no business wanting that. Not when a botched murder investigation was involved.

  Once inside the building, he identified himself and told—no asking—the desk sergeant he wanted to see Detective Leeks.

  Five minutes later, he was directed down a long hallway and told to take the last doorway on the left. That last doorway, not surprisingly, was an interview room. These dopes thought they’d play him by letting him stew in an interrogation room. This stunt only added fuel to his already raging fire.

  He yanked out a chair, settled into it, threw his shoulders back and took a breath. He would control this conversation. Not Leeks.

  Ten minutes they made him wait. With each ticking second, Zac got more steamed, all that negative energy spewing in his mind. Contain it. That’s what he’d do. Contain it and channel it. He’d been raised by a master strategist. He’d carve Leeks to pieces before he let this chump play mind games with him.

  Fina
lly, Leeks stepped into the room. The guy was a good four inches shorter than Zac, so Zac made sure to stand and greet him. Let the shorter man get a feel for looking up at him.

  Leeks stared at him with dark, vacant eyes. Nothing there. No life. No anger. Nothing. After a brief stare-down, he must have come to the realization that intimidation tactics were useless. No dice, pal.

  Leeks pursed his lips and made a smacking sound before dragging out the chair opposite Zac’s.

  Zac waited for him to sit, hesitated a few extra seconds, then reclaimed his chair. The detective smirked. Yeah, he knew the alpha war game of standing over someone as long as possible. At least they understood each other.

  Leeks pushed up the sleeves on his sweater. Most detectives wore sport coats and dress slacks. Maybe during the week Leeks did, too. Today he wore jeans and an expensive-looking sweater.

  Zac sat forward. “I’ll make this quick, detective. I’m the prosecutor handling the Sinclair case. My guess is you know that already.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Good. Let me also inform you that you are to stay away from anyone involved in this case. Anyone. Do you understand?”

  Leeks shrugged.

  “I’ll take that as a yes because the next time you threaten Emma Sinclair, I’ll dig up enough dirt on you that your superiors will have no choice but to relieve you of your badge.”

  Leeks finally sat forward, all tough-guy shrugs and grimaces. “Listen, Ivy League, I didn’t threaten Emma Sinclair.”

  Excellent. Precisely what Zac wanted to hear. He slapped Emma’s note on the table. “You didn’t say this?”

  Leeks eyeballed him then picked up the paper. After reading it, he tossed it back and it floated in midair for a moment, crackling in the silence.

  Leaning in, Zac mirrored the detective’s body language. “You expect me to believe Emma Sinclair lied when she said you walked up to her home in the middle of the night and told her troublemakers in this city get dealt with. You didn’t say that?”

  “Hey, Ivy League—”

  “Hey, detective, I’m not interested in having a conversation. I’m telling you what you need to do. Am I clear?”

  Leeks slouched back—almost retreating, but then defiantly folding his arms across his chest. The guy’s body language was all over the place.

  “Yeah. You’re clear. Crystal. But you better find a way to keep this guy in lockup. He murdered a young woman and his cute, defenseless sister is getting this city all churned up. Do your job, counselor.”

  As if he’d let this scumbag lecture him. “After the garbage you’ve pulled, you think I’ll let you sit there and tell me how to do my job? Screw off, detective. Last I checked, my conviction rate was rock-solid. As long as I don’t have overanxious cops mucking it up, we’ll have a murderer behind bars.” Zac stood and headed for the door. “By the way, I went to Loyola. And make sure your son is available to me.”

  Leeks shot out of his chair, sending the legs scraping across the cheap linoleum. “What?”

  That extra four inches Zac had on Leeks played nicely here. It was tough to get large with someone taller and carrying an extra thirty pounds.

  “You heard me. Have your son call me. I have questions about his relationship with Chelsea Moore. The sooner those questions are answered, the sooner this case goes away. I’m extending you a courtesy here. If you and your son choose not to take advantage of that courtesy, I’ll subpoena him. Your choice, detective, but either way, your son will talk to me.”

  * * *

  EMMA SAT IN ZAC’S sleek BMW, one just like Penny’s—and how cute was that?—thinking he should be coming back any second. As curious as she was about his meeting, boredom had set in more than ten minutes ago. How long did it take to go in there, tell this loser detective to back off and come back?

  Her cell phone rang. Thank you. Penny. “Hi.”

  “Hi. How’d it go with Zac?”

  “Not sure yet. He’s in talking with the detective now.”

  “OMG,” Penny squealed. “I love my brother. He’s so darn predictable. He’s probably tearing that guy apart as we speak. Listen, Emma. Good trial lawyers know their opponent’s weaknesses and use them. It doesn’t hurt that our opponent happens to be my brother and he has a streak of honor in him a mile long.”

  “You manipulated him?”

  “So harsh! I utilized my knowledge of his personality. Guaranteed he’ll come out of that meeting and say he’s subpoenaing Leeks’s kid.”

  “Well, we should know shortly. I’m waiting in the car. I think it’s cute that you two have the same car.”

  “His is two years older than mine. Our parents gave each of us one when we graduated from law school. Our older brother totaled his a year in. Those cars are the only ones they bought us. We had to pay for our first cars on our own. It was a good lesson in managing money.”

  Emma glanced up and spotted Zac jogging down the few steps in front of police headquarters, his long legs moving fast. “Here comes Zac. Want to hang on until he gets here?”

  “You bet.”

  He swung into the car and Emma put the call on speaker. “I have Penny on the phone.”

  “Hey,” he said. “Did you spring your guy?”

  “I did. He got picked up on a drunk and disorderly. How did you do with Leeks?”

  “I’ve alerted him that he should steer clear of my case. He’s also bringing his son to me for questioning.”

  Emma’s heart lurched. “You’re kidding?”

  Zac started the car, checked oncoming traffic and entered the fray known as the Saturday-morning rush. “I want to talk to that kid.”

  “And he’s just bringing him to you?” This from Penny who obviously didn’t believe it.

  “I’m good, Pen, but I’m not that good. I gave him the choice to either bring the kid to me or I subpoena him. Let’s see what they decide.”

  “You’re a good man, Zachary.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don’t think I know you played me? Pen, you’ve been doing this to me since you were twelve. I know you as well as you know me. In this instance, it works in both our favors, but I still can’t figure out why I let you get away with this nonsense.”

  “It’s because of my powers of persuasion, big brother.” Zac waved his hand, but his grin stretched a mile. “Pick me up at four for dinner with the ’rents. And whatever you do, don’t try to sleep with my client.”

  Emma made a gagging sound and Zac rolled his eyes. “Nice, Pen. Nice.”

  “Going on record that I’ve advised you both. I’m not blind and I’m certainly not stupid.”

  Zac made yapping gestures with his free hand. “Goodbye, Pen.”

  Emma clicked off and dropped the phone in her lap. “Well, that was...awkward.”

  “Nah. She’s just being Penny. You may have noticed that she likes to stir things up.”

  “I noticed.”

  “She’s unbelievable. Sometimes I think she’ll give me a stroke, but she’s funny as hell. That’s the problem with the men in our family. We’ve spent her lifetime letting her get away with things we shouldn’t let her get away with because she entertains us.”

  “You’ve created a monster.”

  “We have indeed,” Zac said.

  He stopped at a red light and turned to her, his blue eyes twinkling too much for Emma’s comfort. Maybe Penny was onto something with that warning.

  Plus, all that sibling banter had opened up the emotional sinkhole inside of Emma. Once upon a time, she and Brian had ribbed each other in much the same way. Now? Kind of hard to do with a glass wall between them and thinking about it pressed in on her. No sadness. Not now when they were making progress.

  Soon things would change. She felt it. Finally, someone would question the victim’s b
oyfriend. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For pursuing the boyfriend. No one has done that for us.”

  He stopped at the traffic light on the corner, let out a breath and turned to her. “No problem. Thank you as well. If it weren’t for you, the guy would be off the grid. Now, at least, we get to hear what he has to say.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  Their gazes locked again and the same crackling silence from earlier returned, making Emma long for something, anything that would offer a distraction.

  A car horn blared—distraction granted—and Zac checked the stoplight. Green. “I’m hungry,” he said. “You hungry? We can grab a bite.”

  She shouldn’t do it. He was the prosecutor on her brother’s case. And, well, the towel fantasy still looped in her mind.

  When she didn’t answer, he gave her an earth-to-Emma look that earned him a swat on the arm.

  “We can always discuss your brother’s case.”

  She gasped. “Oh, so dirty. You know I can’t resist that one.”

  “Part of being a good lawyer is knowing your opponent’s weakness.”

  Unbelievable. “Your sister just said that to me! Right before you got into the car. I’m not kidding.”

  He shrugged. “We learned from the master. Now, where shall we eat?”

  Chapter Six

  Emma set the steaming hot plate of pasta in front of her last customer and did the can-I-get-you-anything-else spiel. As usual, her feet and body ached from the Saturday-night rush, but she’d go home with a fat wad of cash to plop down on her next tuition payment, so there wasn’t a lot to complain about.

  From the corner of her eye, she spotted someone sliding into a booth. Really? Closing in thirty minutes and people were still being seated in her section? She headed to the new customer and analyzed the back of his blond head. Couldn’t be.

  Then he turned sideways and—yep—Zac Hennings. Her heart seized, along with every other part of her. Why would he be here when he’d told her he and Penny would be spending the night at their parents’ lake house? Something’s wrong.