by Carsen Taite
“I’ll come out there. No room in here.” She stood. “Be right back.”
Landon waited until she heard the click of the door behind them and pulled out her phone.
“Whatever it is, it can wait,” Carly said, flipping to the next page. “She’s not going to let us sit here all day.”
“You’re right about that, which is why we’re going to get what we need and be on our way.” Landon held up her phone like a camera and held out her hand. “Give me that.”
Carly eyes widened and she clutched the papers tightly with both hands. “No way. You heard the rules.”
“I heard what she said, but it included absolutely nothing about taking a picture of what we’re reading. Clearly, I don’t read as fast as you do, so I’m at a disadvantage.” She reached over and grabbed the report from Carly’s hand. “I’m merely taking steps to level the playing field.” Without waiting for a response, she snapped pictures of the document, ignoring Carly’s glare. She was on the last page when the handle to the door turned. She shoved the document back into Carly’s hands and slipped her phone into her bag.
“You get what you needed?” Donna asked as she walked back into her office.
“Almost,” Landon said. “I can see why the police charged Mr. Kincade, you know because of the relationship, but I’m still not convinced you have enough for an indictment.” She pointed at the police report in Carly’s hand. “Do you have anything besides what’s in that report?”
She was bluffing, especially since she hadn’t had time to read the report in between snapping photos of the pages, but Donna didn’t know that. She glanced over at Carly who, to her credit, maintained a neutral expression.
“We’re always working to develop evidence in our pending cases and we’ll comply with the rules of discovery.”
Donna delivered the words with an expression of smug satisfaction. There was something else and it wasn’t in the report. Landon guessed whatever Donna knew, she wasn’t going to share unless they wound up in trial. Time to get out of here, read what they did have, and make a plan to find out the rest.
* * *
“What the hell was that?” Carly spat out the words as they walked down the hall and away from the DA workroom.
Landon shrugged. “It’s called using your resources. She left us alone in the room with the documents. It’s not like I stuffed them in my shirt.”
In spite of herself, Carly shot a look at Landon’s chest. She wore a form-fitting dove gray shirt under her navy suit jacket, and there wasn’t a lot of room for a stack of paper along with her C-cups. Damn. She needed to find a way to keep from being distracted by the good looks and charm of Landon Holt. “It’s called breaking the rules, and talented attorneys don’t need to cross the line to get things done.”
“So now you think I’m not talented. But you hardly even know me.” Landon smiled broadly, which was only more infuriating. “Tell you what, let’s have lunch again and get to know each other. This time you pick the place.”
Carly started to snap that she wasn’t remotely interested in sharing another meal with Landon, especially not after the stunt she’d just pulled, but Jane’s words about working together echoed in her head. Plus she hadn’t had time to finish reviewing the police report, and now Landon had the only copy they could access. If she didn’t make nice with Landon now, she’d be at a distinct disadvantage.
“Fine. But I’m driving.” Carly didn’t wait for an answer before taking off at a brisk pace to the stairwell, down all nine flights, and out of the building. She smiled as she heard Landon puffing behind her as she strode into the parking garage, but her pleasure quickly dispersed when she realized what she’d done. She didn’t drive a fancy convertible, and she could just hear Landon making fun of her decade-old Honda Civic. She probably should’ve suggested they meet at the restaurant, but chances were good she would’ve changed her mind about the whole thing if Landon weren’t in the car. She took a deep breath and pointed the key fob at her vehicle to unlock the doors. “Ready?”
Landon nodded and slipped into the passenger’s seat. “Where are we headed?”
“Not far.” Carly maneuvered out of the garage and took side streets to Maple Avenue. Landon pointed at a popular Mexican restaurant up ahead on the left.
“I haven’t been to O’Jeda’s in forever. I’m swooning at the prospect of their fajitas.”
“Keep swooning because that’s not where we’re going.”
“Okay. Mind filling me in?”
“The way you filled me in before you started taking pictures of evidence?” Carly turned into a tiny parking lot across the street from O’Jeda’s and parked in front of a small brick building. She took the key out of the ignition and reached for her purse, but Landon’s hand on hers stopped her in mid-grasp. She looked up at Landon. “What?”
“I could tell you that police reports aren’t evidence, but I’m thinking you’re a better-than-average lawyer since you’re in the running for partner, so you probably already know that. So I’m pretty sure there’s something else going on here that extends beyond friendly competition to account for why you don’t like me, especially since you barely know me.” Landon grinned. “People generally like me. It’s my thing.”
For the first few seconds of her speech, Carly had been fixated on Landon’s hand on hers. It was warm and soft, but her touch was firm and electrifying and she hadn’t wanted her to move. Ever. But as she kept talking, it became clear Landon Holt was used to getting her way, and would do anything to make that happen, including touchy-feely hand-holding just for show. Carly moved her hand out of reach. “I hope your ‘thing’ works out for you since you’ll need it when you don’t make partner.” She opened her door. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
Octavio Avila, owner of Avila’s Mexican Restaurant, greeted them at the door and immediately pulled Carly into a big hug. “Carly, it’s been weeks. Where have you been? And who is this lovely lady?”
She tunneled her way out of his arms in time to catch Landon’s wide grin. Lovely lady, indeed. Octavio’s assessment was on point if you judged by looks alone. Landon pulled both of Octavio’s hands into her own while sporting her trademark smile.
“I’m Landon. I work with Carly. Nice to meet you.” Landon looked around. “This is a beautiful place. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”
Carly watched Landon work her big bunch of charm. Others might fall for the package, but Carly wasn’t one of them. Nope, not even. Octavio showed them to her usual booth and handed Landon a menu before walking away.
“Hmm,” Landon said. “You don’t need a menu, which means not only do you know the owner, but you have a ‘usual.’ Let me guess—the house salad?”
“You’re hilarious.”
“Some people think so.”
Octavio reappeared and asked if Landon was ready to order. She handed her menu back and said, “I’ll have whatever she’s having.” Carly waited until he was out of sight before picking up where they’d left off. “Speaking of being hilarious, I want to be perfectly clear that what happened back at the courthouse wasn’t funny. You’re new here, but I’ve been handling cases with these prosecutors for years, and I’ve been careful to earn their trust. If Donna had walked in while you were taking pictures she’d never trust me or anyone else from our firm again. Maybe those stunts have worked well for you in Austin, but not on my watch.”
“Not on your watch? What are you, a cop? Because you’re acting like you’re on the other side. We represent Trevor and we’re supposed to do everything in our power to help him, not suck up to the people who are trying to put him in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. If I take a few pictures of a police report so I can read it in my own time instead of huddled around a prosecutor’s desk, then I consider that perfectly acceptable advocacy.”
Carly wanted to argue the point but she couldn’t fault Landon’s rational explanation. She kept to the rules because that’s what people did, and when they
didn’t bad things happened. Besides, she’d always gotten good results for her clients by keeping a clear separation between right and wrong, something Landon clearly didn’t get. “Let’s agree to disagree. Now show me what you got.”
Landon handed over her phone and had the good sense not to make any snide remarks about the fruit of the poisonous tree. “I glanced in the car. There’s not a whole lot there, but skip to page five and let me know what you think.”
Carly swiped the screen to the page Landon referenced and used her fingers to enlarge the image. This particular page of the report listed the witnesses the police had talked to in the course of their investigation. She skimmed the list of familiar names, neighbors of the victim and her family and friends, but one name stood out as unfamiliar, Kyle Dandridge. She pointed at the screen. “Who’s that?”
Landon’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
Carly shifted in her seat and looked at the name again. Okay, maybe it did sound a bit familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Wishing she’d kept her mouth shut until she could Google it, she went all in. “Seriously.”
“He’s only the best running back in this division, maybe even the entire league. He was Trevor’s roommate in college and probably knows him better than anyone else on the team. How is it possible that you live in Dallas and don’t know this?”
“Uh, maybe football isn’t really my thing.”
Carly felt the burn of a blush as she spoke and waited for a sharp rebuke, but Landon merely shook her head. “Unbelievable. Well, you have a lot to learn.”
“I don’t need to learn the game of football to defend Trevor unless he’s alleged to have committed the offense during a game.”
“‘Alleged to have committed’? Really?”
“Oh, so now you want to make fun of the way I talk?” Carly was about done with Landon having fun at her expense. “I was able to get Trevor’s suspension lifted without knowing a damn thing about the sport. So what if I speak legal jargon? I’m a lawyer and a damn good one. You’d do well to take notice.”
Landon’s eyes widened during her diatribe, and Carly braced for whatever additional crap she wanted to dish out. To her surprise, Landon merely said, “You’re right. Good job on the suspension, by the way.”
Carly waited a beat, but apparently the compliment wasn’t accompanied by any sarcasm. “Thanks.” She sighed. “Maybe I should know a little bit more about the game.”
“I could teach you.”
Warning bells sounded in Carly’s brain as she pictured the two of them perched in front of a giant screen TV, because that’s what she imagined all sports fans had in their living room. Landon would be standing over her shoulder, leaning in close to point out some finer point of the game, and she’d graze her—
“So, what do you think?”
“About what?” Carly scrambled to clear her head.
Landon cocked her head. “You and me and ESPN.”
“Uh, sure,” Carly replied, wishing she had a firm grasp on what she’d just agreed to. Before she could backtrack, Octavio appeared with two steaming platters of food.
“These plates are very hot,” he said as he sat the platters down in front of them. “Would you like some tortillas?” He directed the question at Landon, who looked to Carly.
“Do I?”
“No, you do not.” Carly suppressed a grin as she watched Landon gape at her enormous plate of food.
“This,” Landon said, pointing with her fork, “is not a salad.”
“Are you making fun of me again?”
“Not even. I might be a little in awe. What have we got here?”
“Chile rellenos. The best in Dallas. Probably the best in the state, but I haven’t made it to every place that serves them. Yet.”
“Ah, so it’s salads and Mexican food for you. Any other surprises?”
“Nope,” Carly said, tucking into a large bite of relleno. She adored this place and this food, but the portions were insane, and she’d be eating the leftovers for the rest of the week. Landon was well into her plate of food, and at the rate she was going, wasn’t likely to have anything to take home. “You like?”
“I love. And I too am a Mexican food aficionado, so there’s that.”
Carly smiled, but a small voice in the back of her head told her it was time to steer the conversation back to more professional and less social topics. “So what do you think Kyle Dandridge is doing on the list of witnesses?”
“That’s a good question. It could be just for general background information, but that question needs to top the list of things we ask Trevor. Speaking of which, I asked Rhonda to set up a meeting with him for tonight. He wants to meet at his place. Do you want to ride together?”
Instinct told Carly to say no. She should drive her own car, maintain her independence. So she was as surprised as anyone when she opened her mouth to politely decline and said, “That would be perfect.”
Chapter Six
Trevor’s house rated on the moderate scale for football greats. Landon pulled into the drive and spotted a shiny red Corvette, pretty much the kind of ride she’d expect for a pro player. She was pleasantly surprised when Shelby stepped out of the driver’s side.
“Oh great,” Carly groaned. “I was hoping we might get to talk to him alone.”
“Really?” Landon returned Shelby’s wave and parked behind her car. “I mean, it seemed like he opens up more when she’s around. What’s their history?”
“She’s been his agent his entire career. She’s a few years older than Trevor, but they met when he played with her brother in high school. Apparently, Trevor was like another son to her folks. His own parents were doctors, and not into sports at all, so Trevor hung out with Shelby’s family more than his own.”
“Is Trevor an only child?”
Carly nodded. “Although I’m pretty sure he considers Shelby and her brother Randy honorary siblings. Randy plays for the Falcons.”
“Look at you, spouting off football facts like a pro.”
“As if.” Carly jerked her chin toward the door. “Are we going in or not?”
Landon followed her gaze. Shelby waved at them from the front door. What Landon really wanted was to stay here and keep her conversation with Carly going, especially now that they’d established a rhythm, but they had a lot of work to do. “Guess we better go in.”
Trevor’s house was a giant man cave, and Landon loved every inch of it. The slate entryway led into a den that featured a wall of large screen TVs worthy of a high-end sports bar. On the opposite wall was a full bar, complete with beer pulls, barstools, and a spotless mirrored back wall. She idly wondered how often the maid came to visit, and whether Trevor hired a bartender to work when he was watching games at home. Too bad they weren’t here for fun.
Shelby ushered them into the room, and a chubby black French bulldog lumbered toward them. To Landon’s surprise, Carly hunkered down and rubbed his wrinkled jowls. “Hey, cuteness, who are you?” Carly said to the Frenchie, who snorted and licked her hand in response.
“That’s Dijon,” Shelby said. She frowned and stepped back as the dog turned her way at the sound of his name. “Trevor’s sidekick.”
“He’s adorable,” Landon said, but the really adorable one was Carly, who was still at dog height, giving Dijon a world-class petting.
“Trevor’s finishing up a call,” Shelby said, clearly moving on. “Would either of you like a drink?”
“Sure,” Landon said before she caught sight of Carly’s frown as she gave Dijon a final stroke and stood. Taking advantage of the fact Shelby was headed across the room, Landon whispered, “What?”
“You really think it’s a good idea to belly up to the bar?”
“It’s one drink.” Landon pointed at Dijon. “If he asked, I bet you’d say yes.”
Carly scowled, but before she could speak, Shelby called out, “What’s your poison?”
Landon ignored Carly’s pointed look and walked toward the bar. Shel
by cocked her head and said, “You strike me as a tequila girl, am I right?” Without waiting for an answer, Shelby pulled a bottle from underneath the bar and held it up. “I socked this bottle away so I have something besides the usual whiskey and beer that the guys drink when they hang out here. Don’t be fooled by the pretty bottle. There’s actually a really old, sophisticated extra añejo inside. Join me?”
Landon flashed back to the night of her birthday party. Hard to believe it had only been a few days ago. She never imagined then that she’d be sipping expensive tequila with the agent of a pro football player while sitting in his fancy house. Carly could be as uptight as she wanted, but Landon could tell that getting Shelby on their side was the key to Trevor opening up, and if that meant she had to enjoy a fancy glass of tequila, well, she was up to the sacrifice. “Absolutely.”
“Carly, how about you?” Shelby called out. “Wait, you’re not a big drinker, are you?” She made a show of looking around and pulled out a bottle of Perrier. “Sparkling water okay?”
“Actually, I’d love a glass of tequila, especially if it’s as good as you say.”
Landon looked back and forth between them, trying to gauge whether the undercurrent of animus she’d just heard was all in her head. There was some history here, and if it meant Shelby wasn’t real fond of Carly, then maybe she could use it to her advantage. The realization was a mixed bag of opportunity and regret. She’d been fully prepared to do battle with Carly, but she kept getting little glimpses that she was human after all and an interesting one at that. She was definitely gorgeous, even if her beauty was all buttoned-up. She just needed to let her hair down. Literally. Landon imagined reaching up to unfasten the barrette that kept Carly’s hair tucked in place, and she sucked in a breath at the mental visual of Carly’s auburn waves cascading to her shoulders.
Landon shook away the thought. It wasn’t productive, and it wasn’t going to happen no matter how much tequila they drank. She and Carly had to work together, plus they were competitors, and she’d do well to remember that. She felt a touch on her hand and accepted a short heavy glass full of amber liquid from Shelby. Shelby maintained eye contact with her for a few seconds, and then whirled around and poured another glass for Carly. Carly raised her glass in a mock salute and took a healthy sip.