by Talty, Jen
“You’re welcome here anytime and for as long as you need.” Shima shifted on the couch, moving closer. “I’m sorry about Rutherford.”
“Thanks,” Kaylee managed, remembering how Blaine had practically accused her of killing her own father.
“Blaine’s just doing his job,” Shima commented as if she could read Kaylee’s thoughts.
“I suppose.” Kaylee dropped her head back, closing her eyes. She was wanted by the mob and now the police. Could life get any worse?
“Have you spoken with a criminal lawyer?”
“Hadley said he’d find me one.” Kaylee said behind a clenched jaw. “But I didn’t do anything wrong.” At least not where her father’s death was concerned.
Shima patted Kaylee’s thigh. “I don’t think you killed your father, dear, but I know how the system works. You found him; therefore, you are suspect number one.”
“Great,” Kaylee muttered. Life certainly didn’t like her much these days. Maybe it had never liked her. “Mr. Danks will handle it.”
“I have a friend who’s a criminal lawyer; I’d like you to talk to her.” She handed Kaylee a business card.
Kaylee placed the card next to her mug, totally puzzled by the conversation. “Shima?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Has Blaine told you something I should know?”
Shima shook her head. “He only told me that you were here, and honestly, I want to help you.”
“Thanks,” Kaylee said. The softness in Shima’s expression couldn’t be ignored.
Shima reached out and ran the backs of her fingers across Kaylee’s cheek. “I know I might have said some things to you long ago that I shouldn’t have, but I was worried that the two of you had gotten yourselves in over your heads.”
“That we did.” Kaylee took a deep breath. “We were just kids ourselves. We had no business getting married or having a baby.”
“But you did, and too many people tried to interfere, myself included. I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” Kaylee picked up her cocoa and took a long sip of the hot liquid. It burned a little as it went down her throat. “I’m going crazy not knowing what happened. I don’t even know if I should be planning his funeral, or what.”
“I’m sure Hadley will know what to do.” Shima rose. “I’ll let you rest. Tell Blaine I’ve got a meeting around seven, and if I don’t see him tonight, I’ll see him in the morning. And Kaylee?” Shima stopped at the door. “Let Blaine help you. He knows what he’s doing.”
Kaylee leaned against the doorjamb as Shima glided down the staircase toward the house. The sun had begun its descent behind the horizon and a red glow gleamed across the sky. The air was still but cool. Kaylee wrapped her arms around her middle.
If Nino De Luca had any idea where she’d gone, he’d be here in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t think twice about teaching her what happened to those who ran out on a De Luca. The lump in her throat prevented her from swallowing. Being arrested for her father’s murder and going to jail seemed safer than hanging out over Blaine’s garage, waiting for someone to come stick a knife in her back. Again.
Blaine tossed the medical examiner’s report across his desk. “Damn.” The report didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already suspect. Rutherford’s death was ruled suspicious. Some of the injuries could be consistent with a fall down the stairs, except for the bullet in his stomach.
“I didn’t think you’d like that report,” Dave said, standing in the doorway.
“Just makes our job that much more difficult.“ Blaine leaned back in his chair.
“This one is my job.”
“You can’t completely take me off the case. You and I, and Williams, are the only full-timers here.” But Blaine certainly understood Dave’s position.
“You can do grunt work. Analyze shit, but everything comes by me. You can’t do anything officially without me okaying it.” Dave raised a brow.
“Fine,” Blaine muttered. “Did Jonesy and Mac find anything?”
Dave shook his head. “Kaylee’s gun was registered in her married name.”
Blaine’s heart jolted for a brief moment as he filed those words into the scheme of things. She kept his name? “Does it match the bullet found at the scene?”
“Same type, but Rutherford’s is a nine millimeter, along with your personal weapon.”
“Half the town probably owns a nine millimeter.”
Dave leaned over the desk and hit the intercom button. “Stacey, get someone to go to Blaine’s house and pick up Ms. Mead for some more questioning.”
“Sure thing,” Stacey replied.
“I’d better warn her,” Blaine said as he picked up the phone and dialed his home number.
“Did Williams fingerprint her? Swab her hands?”
Blaine closed his eyes for a brief moment, allowing the flash of anger to lessen before he spoke. “Everything was done by the book.”
“She stayed at your house last night, and the book has nothing to do with it.”
“I couldn’t let my ex-wife stay at a motel alone.”
“When was the last time you fired your personal weapon?” Dave gave him an apologetic glance.
“Three days ago,” he said, lifting the phone to his ear. “I’ll take the residue test, and any other test you want, right after I get— ” a click rang in his ear indicating someone had answered.
“Walker Residence.” Kaylee’s voice sang in his ears, turning the boiling rage rushing through his veins into something he didn’t want to acknowledge.
“Hi.” His voice caught and he had to clear his throat. “I’ve sent someone to bring you down to the station.”
“Wh… why?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, the nausea rose up from his gut. It had been three months since his last migraine, and today wouldn’t be a good day to get one. “Your father’s death is being treated as a homicide,” he said as compassionately as he could. “I’ll call Hadley.”
“No,” Kaylee said with conviction in her voice.
“Kaylee, it’s for your own protection. We might have to— ”
Dave waved his hand. “Her gun hadn’t been fired,” he whispered.
That didn’t make Blaine feel better. She could’ve used Rutherford’s gun.
“I understand that, but he’s not a criminal lawyer. I’m not sure he’s ever seen the inside of a courtroom.”
“Kaylee, you need a good lawyer, and Hadley is just that.”
“Shima recommended someone else. Her name is— ”
“Emma Peterson.” Good Lord in heaven. What the hell was his mother doing?
“You know her?”
“I’ll call her.” Blaine rubbed his neck. “Someone should be there any minute.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“You can’t question her. I’ll send Williams in.”
“I’m going to have to be able to ask something. You can’t tie my hands so tightly that it will weaken the department.”
“Williams does the questioning.” Dave waved and stepped out of Blaine’s office. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect for the man to leave.
Spots flickered about in front of Blaine’s eyes. He reached for his desk drawer, pulling out a shot of his medication, and prayed like hell it would work. He winced as he jabbed himself with the needle.
He smacked the intercom button. “Stacey, call Emma Peterson and tell her I need her in my office ASAP. And get Williams in here.” He pushed his chair back, dropped his head between his knees, and breathed deeply.
He forced himself to inhale through his nose and breathe out of his mouth. The nausea had eased up, but the pounding between his ears had only intensified. He stayed like that for a long time--at least twenty minutes--letting the medicine take over. His pulse slowed and his body relaxed, but he knew this migraine wasn’t going away.
“Blaine?” Stacey said, stepping into his office with a mug in her hands. “Miss Peterson said she’d be here in about fifte
en minutes.” Stacey set the cup of coffee on his desk. “Caffeine is supposed to help.”
He looked up at his secretary. “I’m fine, but thanks.”
“Also, Jonesy is pulling in with Kaylee.”
“Bring her down.” He took the coffee and sipped. He ran a hand across his damp forehead. “Ask Dave to join us,” he yelled, holding his throbbing head. Kaylee was wreaking havoc on his system.
“Migraine?” Kaylee seemed to appear out of nowhere and stood a few feet from him, looking just like the young girl he had fallen in love with so many years ago. Her long, blonde hair flowed over her shoulders, and she had that soft smile on her angelic face that she’d always greeted him with.
That did nothing to help the pain bouncing between his ears. He nodded, unable to say anything.
“Why am I here, Blaine?” she asked, stepping around his desk. Clasping her hands together, she rubbed them vigorously before she raised them to his forehead, applying the perfect amount of pressure.
Her soothing fingers eased his pain, and not just in his head. “No one has hands like you.” He relaxed in his chair.
“Did you call that lawyer? What was her name? Patterson or something?”
“Emma Peterson.” He stood, pulling himself from her touch. “I had my secretary call her. She should be here shortly.” Just his luck. His ex-wife and his ex-girlfriend in the same room. When he and Emma had dated, she’d accused him of still being in love with Kaylee. He’d denied it, of course, but he also knew there was a ring of truth to her words. He walked to the window and stared at the few clouds floating about the blue sky. He hadn’t loved Emma and it didn’t matter. She’d betrayed him too.
“Your mother said Ms. Peterson is a friend of hers.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
Blaine’s cell phone vibrated on his hip. “Walker.”
“Why am I being summoned?” Emma bellowed.
“I have a friend who needs your help.” He glanced to Kaylee, who was sitting down with a frown on her beautiful face.
“Who? And what kind of help?”
“Kaylee Mead. Her father has been murdered and we need her to answer a few questions. I’d like her to have a lawyer present.”
“Oh, just great. Thanks a whole freaking bunch. You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“If it makes you feel better, you’re the last person I would’ve called.”
Confusion registered in Kaylee’s eyes. He turned, no longer able to look at her. “My mother recommended you to her.”
“Your mother? Well, I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me.”
Blaine didn’t want to hate Emma, but part of him would never be able to forgive her. Not to mention he had never loved her. She’d been right about one thing, though. He’d been unable to get over Kaylee. Not something he liked to admit, but it didn’t matter. “Anyway, she’s in my office.”
“Fine.”
Blaine closed his phone. He wanted to continue to stare out the window, because he knew facing Kaylee at the moment wouldn’t be a pleasant experience, but he turned anyway.
“If you wouldn’t have called her, why is she coming?” Kaylee shifted in her chair, her pale face drained of color.
“Because you said you wanted her.”
“I’m not in the mood for games, Blaine,” Kaylee snapped.
“Honestly, if this goes beyond simple questioning, I would demand she represent you.”
“Why do I have the feeling that this lawyer you and your mother have thrown at me already dislikes me?”
“She’s a good lawyer, one of the best.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He filled his lungs with air, but got a bolt of strawberries and vanilla instead. “She doesn’t have to like you to help you.”
“What have you gotten me into?” she muttered.
The reflection of the sun hitting her soft blue eyes knocked him senseless. “I’m trying to keep you out of trouble.”
Her lips parted as if she was going to say something, but she stared at him instead.
“Please trust me,” he whispered as he took a tentative step toward her. He could no longer resist the primal need to touch her. When he pulled her to his chest, she felt perfect. The desire to feel the connection he’d had with her was stronger than the desire to protect his own heart.
Her fists pushed against his chest, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m scared.” Her chin quivered when he touched her.
“I know.” Her lips melted against his and a soft moan escaped his throat. Everything about her, the feel of her, was like he’d just come home after being off to war for years.
“Excuse me,” Emma said, then cleared her throat. “I need to talk to my client.” She gave Blaine a deadly glare. “Alone.”
The pounding in his head erupted. “You’ve got to trust me,” he snapped, pushing Kaylee away.
Wide, frightened eyes blinked at him. “I’m trying.” She recoiled, taking a few steps back. “You don’t make it easy. “You’ve got ten minutes.” Without giving either woman a second glance, Blaine left the office. “Gee, thanks,” Emma said.
Kaylee eyed the professional woman pulling out all sorts of papers from her briefcase. Who was this woman? And what did she mean to Blaine?
Kaylee knotted her fists and applied pressure to the base of her back before she settled down into one of the most uncomfortable chairs in the world. She did trust Blaine, at least when it came to keeping her out of jail.
“Do you know why the police have asked you to the station?”
Well, Emma didn’t hold back any punches. “I’m the one who found my father. All Blaine said was that they were treating this as a homicide.” While Emma flipped open a legal pad, Kaylee noticed how rigid Emma appeared. She wore her dark brown hair in a tight ponytail. The contrast between her hair and her porcelain skin tone didn’t give her any personality. If anything, the lack of style reminded Kaylee of an android or robot of some kind. Emma just looked cold.
“You found your father dead,” Emma said.
“Yes,” Kaylee said.
“What happened next?”
“Blaine showed up.”
Emma arched a brow. “You didn’t call for help?” Emma studied her with suspicious eyes.
“I was about to, but Blaine got there first. I had the phone in my hands.” Kaylee’s pulse tripled.
“Do you know how he died?”
“Blaine said he’d been shot.”
“Do you own a gun?”
“I bought one for protection.” Kaylee tried not to show her fear.
Emma jotted something down, then asked, “Did you kill your father?”
Kaylee shifted her gaze, narrowing at Emma’s unnerving eyes. “No.”
“Okay. Let’s get Blaine back in here and get on with this.”
“Wait.” Kaylee shifted to get a better look at Emma. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.” She felt a coldness glide across the air like morning frost.
“Ask away,” Emma said, not moving a muscle.
“Shima recommended you, but I get the feeling you— ”
“My personal life doesn’t affect my professional one.”
At this moment Kaylee wondered if she was dealing with the ice princess herself. “Hadley Danks— ”
“Is not a criminal lawyer. However, I will be consulting him since he’s handling your father’s estate. He should be here… ” she glanced at her watch, “in about a half hour to go over some things with us.” Emma brought her icy glare back to Kaylee.
“That’s another issue,” Kaylee said.
“What?”
“I don’t have much money, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my father left me nothing. I’m not sure how I could pay you.”
Emma showed the first spark of emotion, a slight flicker of amusement in her eyes, and Kaylee’s confidence faltered. “We’ll worry about that if Blaine arrests you.” She paused and ran her fingers through her ponytail. When sh
e looked back at Kaylee, a softness had cut through her frigid exterior and she looked close to human. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Emma?” Kaylee forced the words past the lump in her throat. “I didn’t kill my father.”
“I believe you.” Emma rose and held her handout. “It’s important that you cooperate with the police, but there are certain things I will recommend that you don’t do. Please trust me.”
Trust her? Could Kaylee trust her and Blaine at the same time? “I barely know you.”
“But I believe you,” Emma said, with an arched brow. She turned to the door and called for Blaine.
But what did Emma believe? And what difference would it make when they found out she was running from the mob?
Chapter Four
“Why do we have to wait for Hadley?” Kaylee asked after Blaine announced the latest round of questioning wouldn’t begin for a while. “I want to get out of here.” She’d been in Blaine’s mundane office for over an hour now, and nothing about the off-white, blank walls appealed to her.
His desk was cluttered with files. She glanced up at the water stains lining the drop ceiling. She’d only seen the inside of police a station on television or in the movies, and they didn’t look like this. Even the white blinds looked like a blue light special that wasn’t such a good deal after all.
“Unless you’re going to charge my client, I suggest you get on with this,” Emma said with her legs crossed at her ankles. She reminded Kaylee of a nasty blizzard that the world wanted to hide from in the warmth of their homes. She had a hard time believing that this woman and the passionate Blaine Walker she remembered, could have had any kind of relationship. Much less a sexual one if her suspicions were right.
“Hadley’s bringing Rutherford’s will and I’d like you to hear it.”
“Why?” Emma asked.
“Because it doesn’t help your client,” Hadley said as he strolled into Blaine’s office. “And this isn’t the right way to go about these things. The reading of the will shouldn’t be done in the coldness of your office.” He waved his finger in the direction of Blaine. “Jesus, the man was your father-in-law.”