by John Foxjohn
At eight, she flipped through her Rolodex, found the number she wanted, and dialed. On the other end, a female voice said, “Sutherland investigations.”
“Sherri, this is Kayla Nugent. I need to speak to John as soon as possible.”
“Hey Kayla. He’s not in. Should come in any minute. You want him to call you right away?”
“Sherri, as soon as he gets in. I need him immediately.”
When she hung up, Marvin knocked on her open door and she motioned him in. He eased down in the chair across from her, crossed his legs, then uncrossed them. He drummed on the chair arm with his fingertips.
Frown lines pinched between Kayla’s brows. “What’s the matter?”
He took a deep breath, fidgeting in his seat. He pushed his glasses up with an index finger. “I found out a couple of things last night. I have a friend from law school in the DA’s office. They are taking Loren Estes’ case to the grand jury this morning.”
Kayla’s eyes widened. “This morning?”
He nodded. “We were right. They got the forensics back.”
She stood and shuffled to her window as morning traffic below stalled. People on the sidewalks hurried, more than likely late for work. Without turning, she said, “They sure got it back from the lab fast. I thought we’d have more time.”
“Evidently, Proctor put a rush on it. He knows people in high places.”
She spun around and flopped in the seat. “We know he’ll get a true bill. We have to accelerate our preparation. Bet he pushes for the quickest docket call, too.”
“He will—he needs to win this one in a hurry if he plans to announce his candidacy.” He hesitated a moment. “I found something else out, too.”
She picked up her pen and twirled it, waiting, but he didn’t continue. “Go on.”
“His quickest docket call will take this before Judge Harper.”
She knew Judge Harper, had tried several cases in front of him, and respected him. Years of defending clients left him with an innate ability to control a courtroom and a case. Attorneys got by with less from him, and he had fewer cases overturned on appeal than any judge in Texas. The edge in Marvin’s voice when he said Judge Harper warned her there might be a problem. He might help her. “Is there a problem that I don’t know about with the judge?”
Marvin shifted in his seat. “No. No, problem.” He held his hands out. “I need to say something. Not that it is something I condone, but I think you need to know.”
She stopped twirling the pen. “Understood. What is it?”
“Judge Harper is a member of the country club crowd. Among the selected few he hangs out with is Lawrence Estes.”
She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Meaning?”
“Ah—a word or two by someone not involved.” He hesitated a moment before rushing on, “in Judge Harper’s ear could help us somewhat.”
Kayla clamped her mouth tight, breathing through her nose, veins popping out on her neck. Through clenched teeth, she asked, “Is that all?”
Sarah Jane stuck her head in the door. “John Sutherland on the phone for you.”
Kayla smiled. “Thanks. Could you ask John to hold for just a moment, please?”
She turned back to Marvin. “Is that all?”
“Well, no. Media is bombarding us with requests. It’s going to get worse. Do you think we need a preemptive strike with them?”
Kayla took a deep breath. “Marvin, I need to take this call. Before I do, let’s get this straight. I won’t try this case in the media.”
Marvin nodded and stood. His facial expression indicated he knew her answer before she said it, which made her wonder where this all came from. Before Marvin reached the door, Kayla stood. “One thing, Marvin, before you go. Tell Edward Harkens or anyone else that talks to you, if there are any shenanigans in this case, any at all, I’ll do my level best to see that person is disbarred.”
When Marvin scuttled out, Kayla massaged her temples a moment before picking up the phone. “John, how’re you doing?”
John Sutherland, in a syrupy Texas drawl that required a timer to get a sentence out said, “I’m great, Kayla. Be better if you’d marry me.”
She shook her head. “John, you and I both know you aren’t looking for marriage.”
He chuckled. “Damn, I hate you smart women. What can I do for you?”
“John, I need a face-to-face with you as soon as possible. Preferably today.”
Silence on the other end greeted her before he spoke. “Does this involve the firm, or is it personal?”
One of the things she liked about him—perception. “This is personal and important. I know you’re busy, but I’ll pay you double your going rate.”
“Can you meet me for lunch at my office? Say eleven-thirty. I’ll order sandwiches for us,” he asked.
“I’ll be there. See you then, and John, thanks. I appreciate it.”
When Kayla hung up, she buzzed Sarah Jane. “Sarah, would you please clear my noon schedule? I’m going to be out of the office on a personal matter.”
“Yes, I will. Kayla, McMasters called. They want you on the sixth floor immediately.” She paused, “Can I come in to talk to you?”
“Of course. You know you don’t need to ask permission.”
Moments later, Sarah Jane eased in, closed the door and shuffled to the front of Kayla’s desk, head down.
Sarah Jane’s hound dog face make Kayla ask herself, now what? But she waited for the answer.
“Rumor has it that the bosses intend to pull you from the Estes case. They think it is too dangerous for you.”
Kayla’s jaw tightened. “I appreciate you telling me. Call them and tell them I’ll be up in five minutes.”
Kayla brought up a Microsoft Word document on her laptop, and her fingers flew across the key board. A minute later, she saved it and hit print.
She retrieved the document and marched to the elevator. On the sixth floor, the secretary waved her in. This time, she found only McMasters and Harkens, seated. She didn’t bother to sit or give them a chance to speak. “I understand you plan to remove me from this case.”
Harkens exchanged a glance with McMasters before he spoke. “How do you know that?”
McMasters chomped on a used, unlit cigar and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “Scuttlebutt is faster than the telephone.” He turned his gaze to Kayla. “We are concerned for your safety.” He pushed a copy of the Houston Chronicle across the desk. “Paper says this is the second incident. We think this might be too dangerous a situation to place you in.”
Kayla’s gaze bore into McMasters. She stepped forward and thrust the document on his desk. He never took his gaze off hers.
“What’s that?” Harkens asked.
McMasters replied for Kayla. “That’s her resignation effective immediately.”
Harkens leaped out of his seat, hands out. “It’s a suggestion, Kayla. We are looking out for your well-being.”
Her head turned to face Harkens. Muscles in her jaw throbbed. “I can look out for my own well-being. Thank you.”
Scowling, McMasters pointed his dead cigar at Kayla. “You marched your butt in here, now march it out and get ready for this trial.”
When Kayla left, Harkens paced the office. McMasters’ scowl transformed into a smile and he chuckled.
“How’d you know that was a letter of resignation without looking?”
McMasters reached into his drawer, lit his cigar, and when he had a gray smoke cloud fogging the office, chuckled again. “That girl has spunk, Edward. Told you this all along. That is exactly what I’d have done in her place.”
Harkens shrugged, hands to his side. “She doesn’t even want to defend Loren Estes. This was her chance to get out.”
“She doesn’t want to do it, but by damn, she won’t let someone intimidate her away from it, either.” He pointed the cigar at Harkens. “Put people under enough pressure, most will fold. But a few, that pressure will bring
out the best in them.” He chuckled. “I sure don’t want to be in Proctor’s position.”
* * * *
When Kayla slipped out, Darren opened his eyes. He had a crick in his neck, and sat on the sofa’s edge, rubbing his eyes. As the night passed he’d napped at short intervals. His stubble scraped when he rubbed his chin, the only sound in the house besides the snoring from Jimmy in the chair next to the sofa.
He stumbled to the bathroom, and on his way back, found a note lying on the dining table, face up. In the note, Kayla told Jimmy to bring the contract by her office that morning and she’d have someone look at it. Simple and to the point, and not a mention to Darren.
This confused him. It didn’t seem like her, but he knew the pressure they had thrust on her, and the threats couldn’t help her disposition. Although he didn’t want or need a romantic involvement, she stirred emotions deep inside of him, and not just sexual. The more he talked to her, the more his feelings grew.
He debated about waking Jimmy but decided against it. Sometimes people ran into someone and for no apparent reason they didn’t get along, didn’t mesh. Jimmy was a dilemma to him. When he stormed in last night, his reactions didn’t seem to jibe with the situation.
He found it peculiar that Kayla, in a time of despair, had asked her neighbor to call only one person—Jimmy. He didn’t waste anytime coming to her, either. Add his knowledge of her home, the comfort level there, and the comfort the two had with each other, and he had to suspect something between the two of them.
He shook his head. As lovers, Jimmy and Kayla didn’t fit. Besides, he slept in the living room with Darren, not the bedroom with Kayla. Under the circumstances, he’d have gone to her room if for no other reason than to hold her, comfort her, as most lovers would have.
Kayla had not given Jimmy that option, or for that matter, Darren. He needed to find out more about the two of them. He needed to find out more about Jimmy. He still couldn’t get over his reactions—a cross between protectiveness and jealousy.
He should’ve talked to Kayla before she sneaked out and couldn’t figure why he pretended to sleep. The death of her cat hit her hard and he could’ve consoled her, but to do that, he’d need to confront his own feelings, or risk those same feelings growing out of control. He didn’t know if he could do that.
After easing out of Kayla’s condo without waking Jimmy, he drove to his hotel room, showered, and brushed the sewer out of his mouth.
One problem he’d need to face and soon, he didn’t do the job his new boss had hired him to do. He had no doubts that sometime in the near future, the man who gave him the down payment would make those feelings known to him.
People like the man in the limo did not accept failure. He had two jobs and both were on the same lines. The first, he had no doubt he could do better than anyone, but he had his doubts about the second.
One thing he did know, if he let his feelings for Kayla Nugent get out of control, he wouldn’t do either job right. His and Kevin’s future depended on the money. He’d thought about returning the fifty thousand and telling unknown man to shove it. But he couldn’t do that.
He forced these thoughts out of his mind, dressed, and plopped on the edge of his bed. He called two of his new street contacts who’d promised him information. As he talked to them, he wrote the information on his note pad. Luck played a small role in his job, and he’d lucked out with these two. Of course, having money to give them for the information didn’t hurt, either.
After hanging up, he contemplated the information they’d given him. He knew what he should do with it, but not what Kayla would want him to do. He reached for the phone again and dialed her office number. He told her secretary he needed to speak to Kayla, and she told him to hold on.
Kayla’s clipped voice ended the elevator music. “What do you have?”
He scowled. She sounded perturbed, almost as if she tried to control her anger. “Actually, I found the husband’s girlfriend. Her name is Chandra Livingston. She is a homicide detective with Houston PD.”
“Interesting,” came from Kayla’s end and he waited for more, more confused when nothing else followed.
After moments of silence, he said at last, “What kind of information do you want on her?”
“Everything possible. How long has she dated McCrery’s husband? Does she work under him? More important, are they still seeing each other? If not, why and when did they stop?”
“Anything else?”
Again a pause on the other end before Kayla spoke. “Need to know where she lives, activities. Where would be the best place to confront her?”
When he hung up, he couldn’t get over her hostility. Had she found out? If so, how?
He flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. This case had too many moving pieces and all of them seemed to have different agendas. One of those pieces had paid him fifty thousand dollars with a promise of fifty more. The man had to have some kind of agenda.
His mind pictured the shadowy lines of the old man’s face. When he left the limo he was sure he’d seen the man before. A thought jolted Darren upright. He hadn’t seen the man before. He’d seen someone whose facial structure resembled his unknown benefactor’s.
ELEVEN
Loren Estes stormed through her dining room toward the kitchen, plate in hand. “Mittie. Mittie. Where are you?”
She shoved open the kitchen door, startling her maid. “Dammit. How many times must I tell you that I like the bread on my sandwiches grilled firm?” She poked the soft bread with a finger, eyes flashing. “This bread isn’t firm.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the maid muttered to Loren’s retreating back.
Still in her frilly nightgown that almost reached mid thigh, Loren flounced to the terrace to wait. “I need to find someone who can follow simple orders.”
When she opened the paper, read the glaring headlines, she threw it down. Nothing was going her way. “The hell with a grand jury.”
As she waited, she examined her fingernails. She needed to call and have her manicurist come over.
She tapped her bare foot on the concrete waiting for her food, but she needed more than food now—she needed a man. She smiled. She knew who, too.
When Mittie brought the sandwich, she waved it off. “I’m not hungry anymore. Throw that out and bring me my cell phone.”
Moments later Mittie hurried back in with her cell phone, handed it to her and waited.
Loren frowned at her and waved her away. “That’s all.”
She called her father’s office and got the number, then dialed the cell phone. After four rings, a message came on and gave her the option of leaving a message or paging. She chose to page.
Minutes later, she called and paged again. Before she could page the third time, her phone rang and she recognized the number she’d paged on the caller ID.
In her sexiest voice she answered, “Hello.”
“This is Darren Duval, ma’am, someone paged me from this number.”
“Ma’am. Someone. Darling, I’m not just someone. This is Loren Estes.”
“Mmm—hello Ms. Estes. Sorry—I didn’t know who had paged me.”
Her eyes widened. “I have gone from ma’am to Ms. Estes. I thought we’d decided to call me Loren.” He might as well after what she had planned for him.
“Yes, Loren. What can I do for you?”
“Darling, I need to speak with you right away. Could you come over to my house?”
He hesitated for a long moment. “Uh-huh, sure. When?”
She smiled. “Right now. I need you right now.”
She gave him the address and hung the phone up. She thought about changing, or at least putting a bra on, but decided that would waste time. Her thoughts caused her nipples to harden, pushing against the nightgown.
The fabric rubbed against her nipples, exploding erotic sensations throughout her body.
She hurried to the den where she decided to greet him. On the way, she yelled for Mitt
ie. She’d curled up on the love seat when her maid trudged in. “Mittie, a man by the name of Darren Duval will be over any minute. When he gets here, show him in and shut the door. We don’t want to be disturbed.”
Mittie nodded and said, “Yes, ma’am,” but her gaze took in her employer’s dress. “Ms. Estes, would you like for me to set you some clothes out?”
“Of course not, silly. I plan to take these off when he gets here. I don’t want you peeking, either. It may cause irreparable damage to your heart.”
Mittie mumbled, “Yes, ma’am,” and left in a hurry.
Agonizing minutes drifted by as she waited. She rose and searched through her collection of music before she found what she wanted. Chimes alerted her that her lover had arrived. She hurried to the love seat, sat, and arranged herself to give the most provocative pose without showing him everything at once.
When he entered, he stopped as if he’d run into an invisible wall. His head turned as the door closed behind him.
Loren smiled and patted the cushion beside her. “Have a seat.”
She frowned when he parked himself in a cushioned chair next to the love seat. What was this? She forced a smile. “I intended for you to sit next to me.”
Tingles shot through her as his gaze drifted over her body, stopping at her breasts, covered only by the sheer white silk. She leaned back to give him a better view. “You’d be more comfortable over here.”
He shook his head. “Actually, I don’t think sitting by you would make me more comfortable at all.”
“I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”
His gaze, fastened at the vee between her legs, never swayed as he said in a husky voice, “It was definitely a compliment.”
A pout formed. “It’ll go hard on you if I have to come over there.” She laughed at the double meaning of her words.
Her gaze lingered over his body, stopping at the bulge in his pants. She smoothed her tongue over her lips and rose provocatively.
His eyebrows crinkled in the middle as she sashayed toward him. “Mmm, Ms. Estes, I don’t think this is a good idea.”