THE PROSECUTOR

by Adrienne Giordano

  “You did it,” he whispered, his lips pressed against her ear. “Why are you wasting time crying when you should be on your way to get your brother?”

  Emma slammed her eyes closed. He’s coming home.

  Zac ran his hand over her head. “You’re okay now. Sshhh. Emma, you did it. You put your family back together.”

  And then she laughed, a sort of pathetic snot-filled snort that at any other time would humiliate her, but for now, none of it mattered.

  She backed away from him, grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and tugged. “Thank you.”

  “Hey,” Penny said. “What the hell?”

  Emma rolled her eyes, but the feeling she had inside, that easy, settled hum of joy, made her attempt at irritation a lost cause. “You know I’ll thank you, too. He makes me giddier than you do.”

  “Oh, please,” Penny said. “Blah, blah, blah. We have paperwork to deal with and then you need to get on the road. Go get Brian and tonight we’ll have a celebration dinner.”

  “But you’re coming with us, right? To get him?” Emma turned to her mom. “Wait. I’m sorry. Do you want it to be just us?”

  Mom dabbed a tissue over her face and grinned. “The more the merrier.”

  “Good.” She went back to Penny. “Can you come with us?”

  “If you want, I’ll make it happen.”

  “I want.” She turned to Zac. “And you, too. You should be there. We should all be there when he comes out.”

  He bent low and kissed her, a gentle brush of his lips, right in front of Mom and Penny and his dad and—wow—that’s different.

  Except he blew it by stopping. “A prosecutor welcoming a wrongly convicted man home. You’re determined to get me fired.”

  She hadn’t thought about that. She tugged on his jacket, only a little disappointed. Maybe more than a little. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’ll be worth it. Let’s head north.”

  The courtroom door opened and they all turned. Detective Leeks stood in the doorway, his vile gaze slithering over them. He shouldn’t be here. Not when he’d done so much to hurt them, to terrorize them and to steal Brian’s life.

  “Leeks,” Zac said, but Emma threw her hand up and stepped toward him. Behind her, she sensed Zac following. “Why are you here?” he asked.

  Leeks stood still, his arms now crossed over his chest. “Thought I’d take in the festivities. Guess I missed it.”

  Pulverizing anger blasted through Emma. Her body buzzed and the sudden urge to lash out consumed her. She halted in front of Leeks. His son hadn’t even been guilty, yet he’d been willing to ruin another man’s life to protect him.

  She wiggled the fingers of her right hand as Leeks stood there, that disgustingly smug grin on his face, and Emma couldn’t take it anymore.

  Crack!

  She smacked him. One solid blast and the man’s head flew sideways. From somewhere behind her, Mom gasped.

  “You go, girl,” Penny said.

  “Whoa.” Zac shifted in front of Emma. “This is over, detective. You’re lucky I didn’t have enough to charge you with having Brian Sinclair attacked in prison.”

  Leeks stared up at Zac, his eyes burning, but there was nothing to be done. Not unless he planned on taking on all five of them.

  “We’re celebrating,” Emma said. “And you don’t belong here.”

  * * *

  HOURS LATER, Emma, her mother, Zac and Penny stood outside the prison gates waiting for Brian. Emma leaned against the gleaming black stretch limo Zac’s father had provided and tilted her head to the sun. Spring, at least for today, had finally blessed them with its presence. All in all, a great day to welcome Brian home. Still, she had to admit, this was a scenario she’d never imagined.

  Off to the right, Penny paced the edge of the parking area, talking on her phone. Mom stood by the gate, sometimes wandering back a few steps, but then returning, waiting for her baby to come to her.

  Zac watched it all, occasionally checking his watch and sighing. For once, Emma didn’t mind the wait. Not when anticipating the moment her brother would be free offered such excitement.

  “There’s one thing I’m wondering,” Emma said.

  Zac clucked his tongue. “Only one?”

  “Hardy-har. A comedian now. Why did that nasty Detective Leeks threaten me? If his son was innocent, why did he care? I should have asked him that before I slugged him.”

  Zac gave her a thumbs-up. “That was a heck of a shot.”

  “He deserved it. I still wonder, though.”

  “I think he either wasn’t sure his kid was innocent, or he knew the investigation had been screwed up and he didn’t want their name dragged into it. Maybe both.”

  “I guess. It makes me sad for the Moore family. We all trusted Alex Belson. They trusted him for very different reasons, but we were all traumatized. I hope that creep never gets out.”

  “He’ll go away for a long time. Between the murder, obstruction of justice, what he did to you, arson, and the litany of other charges my office will come up with, he’ll be an old man if he ever gets out.”

  A buzz sounded and Emma glanced up. Inside the fence, her brother stepped out of the building, flanked by two guards. Emma’s pulse kicked. Brian wore baggy jeans and a wrinkled, button-down shirt—the clothes he’d been arrested in that were now a size too big. He held a bag in his hands, most likely his personal effects. From where she stood, Emma couldn’t see if his bruises had healed. Who was she kidding? Even if they’d faded, eagle-eye Mom would probably notice and Emma would finally have to explain. Later. Much later.

  He’s coming home. Emma placed her hands over her mouth and looked up at Zac. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Believe it.” He put an arm around her and squeezed. “Emma Sinclair, I think you’re the love of my life.”

  “You think? Charming, Zachary. Charming.”

  “I do what I can.” He turned toward her, rested one arm on top of the limo. “I should thank you. At the beginning of this, I was bent on proving that your brother was a murderer. I had it all figured out. He did it and I was gonna be the guy to prove it. Except nothing was what I thought. I had to experience that. Plus, I got to meet you. Something tells me that will change my life in the best way possible. I don’t want to freak you out, but now that this case is history, I’ll be all over you. Just so you know.”

  “Is that supposed to scare me?”

  “Nope. Keeping you updated.”

  She tugged on his jacket, went on tiptoes and kissed him quick. “Excellent. And just so you know, I will be an eager participant as it relates to your affections.”

  “Glad we got that clarified.”

  Another buzz sounded and Emma faced front as the long steel gate slid open. Her brother stopped and looked at each guard, waiting for permission to leave. Apparently, he was stunned by the morning’s activities. One of the guards set his hand on Brian’s back, gave him a smile and shoved him through the gate.

  The guards, like most people, were fond of Brian.

  And then, for the first time in eighteen months, her brother stepped out of the prison gate. He stood there, on freedom’s side of the entrance, staring at the pavement. Emma absorbed the simple joy of seeing her brother experiencing freedom. Let it heal her. No one moved. Not even their mother. Somehow, they understood that Brian needed a moment. Finally, he pushed his shoulders back and raised his head. His gaze locked on Emma’s and held. Joy fused with the pain of lost time and unfurled in her chest. For months she’d imagined this moment, imagined the hoots and hollers and yet there was only quiet. The celebration would come later, but now, in the parking lot, the prison gate behind them, there was only Emma, Brian and their mother. Together.

  Finally.

  They’d done it.

/>   Mom broke the spell and ran to Brian, throwing her arms around him. She sobbed, the sound of it loud and piercing and wonderful. Emma turned into Zac’s side and buried her head in his shoulder.

  Zac kissed the top of her head. “You did it.”

  Head still buried, she nodded. “He’s coming home.” She straightened, looked up into Zac’s blue eyes and her smile, for a change, came easy. She’d smile more now. Life would be for living again. She grabbed Zac’s hand and pulled him toward the gate. “We did it. He’s got his life back.”

  “He’s not the only one.”

  “Yep. And you, Zachary, will be part of it. Are you good with that? Because you have to help me with constitutional law.”

  “Honey, I’m great with that. We’ll be a happy, twisted family.”

  Family. Emma’s heart banged and she slapped her hand over it. For the first time since her father had passed, she pictured a complete unit. Her complete unit. Zac, Mom and Brian. If she threw Penny into the mix, she’d have the sister she’d always wanted. Even if Penny was crazy. Now, with Brian free, she’d grab hold of that unit and never let go. What more could a girl want? Finally, after years of losses, she’d won.

  Her luck had definitely changed.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from BRIDAL JEOPARDY by Rebecca York.

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  Prologue

  The horror of that day had replayed over and over in Craig Branson’s mind. What if he, Mom, Dad and Sam had gone to a different restaurant? What if they’d stayed home and ordered in? Life as he knew it would have continued on the same happy track.

  But Dad had just brought in a big ad buy at the local TV station where he was promotions manager, and he’d been in the mood to celebrate his hard work.

  “Where should we go to dinner?” he’d asked his twin sons, two dark-haired, dark-eyed boys only a few people could tell apart.

  Craig and Sam were identical twins, born when a single egg had split in their mother’s womb. Twins were supposed to be close, but there was more between these two eight-year-olds than anyone else knew. There was a hidden bond and a fierce love born of the connection they could never explain to anyone else.

  They’d looked at each other and begun a silent conversation about the merits of various choices.

  Then Sam had spoken for the two of them. He’d asked to go to Venario’s, an Italian restaurant. If they ate at Venario’s, they could order an extra pizza and have it for breakfast the next morning.

  Mom had protested that pizza was no kind of breakfast, but Dad let the boys have their way. If it made his twins happy to bring home pizza, he was all for it, as long as they had a nice portion of chicken or veal for dinner.

  That evening they’d sat across from each other at the square table topped by a snowy cloth, silently debating the merits of ground beef or ham on their take-home pizza. Almost as soon as they’d come home from the hospital, they’d been able to read each other’s thoughts, a skill they instinctively kept hidden from the world. Mom suspected, but she had never asked them about it because the idea was too outlandish for her to wrap her brain around. She was a down-to-earth woman who wanted her sons to be strong and independent, even when their inclination was to present a united front.

  At the next table, a group of men was talking loudly; their voices annoyed Mom and Dad, but they didn’t interfere with the Branson boys’ happy conversation.

  That was another what-if that had tortured Craig for the twenty-two years since that night when his whole world had been shattered.

  What if he and Sam hadn’t been so focused on each other? What if they’d been paying more attention to their surroundings?

  Could Craig have saved Sam’s life?

  He didn’t know because it all had happened so fast.

  The door burst open, and two men had charged into the restaurant with guns drawn, already shooting as they ran. The guys at the next table hardly had time to react. One of them tried to stand and went down in a hail of bullets. Another one collapsed in his chair. And the third fell to the side, hitting Mom as she screamed in horror.

  People all over the confined space were crying out and hitting the floor. But the chaos around Craig had hardly registered. His total attention was focused on Sam, who had been sitting closer to the scene of disaster.

  He’d made a strangled sound and had fallen forward, his head hitting the table as blood spread across the crisp white cloth. His chest had been a mass of pain that Craig felt as though it were his own body on fire.

  He’d leaped out of his seat, charging around the table to his brother’s side, slipping from his father’s grasp as he reached for Sam, struggling to maintain the fading connection between them. Panic rose inside him, and he’d clutched at his brother with his hand and with his mind.

  Sam, don’t leave me.

  Craig?

  Sam. I can’t hear you, Sam.

  I...can’t...

  Those were his last memories of his brother. He had started screaming then, his cries drowning out the sound of a siren approaching.

  His father’s arms had folded him close, protecting him from harm. But the harm was already done.

  Sam was gone, vanished as though he had never been—leaving an aching gap in Craig’s soul.

  Despair and anger raged inside the boy who lived. But even at the age of eight, Craig knew that he would find out who had killed his brother and avenge his death.

  Chapter One

  The light from the computer screen gave a harsh cast to Craig Branson’s angular features, yet he couldn’t conceal the feeling of elation surging inside himself.

  He’d only been eight when his twin brother had been cruelly ripped away from him, but on that terrible day, he’d vowed that he would find the killers and bring them to justice. Now, finally, he had a lead on one of the shooters in a gangland assassination twenty-two years ago.

  The restaurant where crime boss Jackie Montana and two of his men had been gunned down had been full of witnesses. Many of the patrons had identified the killers from their mug shots. They were two hired hit men named Joe Lipton and Arthur Polaski who had taken jobs all over the U.S.

  Although the cops knew the assassins’ names, the men fled the scene and disappeared from the face of the earth. Now Craig knew why.

  Unable to sit still, he stood and strode out of his office, then paced into the hall of the brick ranch house where he’d lived in Bethesda, Maryland, for the past few years.

  It was in an upscale neighborhood just outside the nation’s capital, the perfect place for the career he’d started planning even before Sam’s funeral. He would make sure he was tough enough, smart enough and well trained enough to find his brother’s killers. To that end he’d graduated from college at George Washington University, then enlisted in the army and gone to officer-candidate school right after basic training. From there he got his first choice of assi
gnments, the military intelligence service. After learning everything he could about investigative techniques, he returned to civilian life and started his own detective agency.

  When his dad died nine months after Mom, he inherited all the money he’d ever need—if you considered his unassuming lifestyle. He had no family. No wife and children, because he knew he was lacking something that most people took for granted—the ability to connect with others on a deep, personal level. He craved those things with a fierce sense of loss because he’d had them with Sam. When his brother had been ripped from him, his anchor to the human race had been severed.

  Although that was a pretty dramatic way to put it, he understood the concept perfectly. Other people formed close friendships and loving relationships. He’d never been able to manage either, although he thought he faked it pretty well. He had friends. He’d had physically satisfying affairs with women, but he had always known that marrying one of them would mean cheating her out of the warmth and closeness she deserved.

  Failing that, he’d focused on his work, partly because it was intensely rewarding to put bad guys away and partly because it was a means to an end.

  He would find who had killed his brother, and he would make sure they would pay for what they had done.

  He’d traveled around the U.S., and he maintained contacts with police departments all over the country. One of those contacts had just paid off big-time.

  He walked back to his desk, activated the printer and made a copy of the report that had come in from a lieutenant named Ike Broussard in the New Orleans P.D. According to the detective, the body of one of the men who had shot up that restaurant, Arthur Polaski, had just turned up dead on private property outside the city. The local police had identified him by dental records, and the murder weapon was with him.

  A very neat package. Maybe too neat.