“Anyway…” Dallas filled them in on everything from Ellen’s attack to finding Nikki’s apartment broken into. When he finished, he looked at Tyler, who was busy taking notes—or listing questions to be answered. “Now, what you got on Leon?”
Tyler picked up the file he’d found earlier. “I searched some court records and found Leon handled a few big cases last year. Won most of them. Then I called my contact at the courthouse.”
“Who is that?” Dallas asked.
“My sister.” He smiled. “She works as Judge Hardgrave’s executive assistant and if there is one thing she excels at, it’s courthouse gossip. If it involves a lawyer, a judge, or a DA, that woman knows their dirty laundry.”
“So does Jack Leon have dirty laundry?” Dallas asked.
“She said Leon was a lady’s man, but serious about his career. Talk was he’d been up to make partner at his firm a year ago. Rumor was that Sterns only promoted family men. The divorce could have cost him that promotion.”
Dallas wondered if this was the reason Nikki’s ex was trying so hard to get her back, or if he really loved her. The man was dead and it shouldn’t even matter. It didn’t affect the case, but the question nipped at his mind.
“Oh, she also said Brian, the other senior partner, has a son working there. Andrew Brian is single, and not a great lawyer, but people were betting on who’d make partner first. Andrew or Leon.”
“Was there bad blood between the two?” Dallas asked.
“Don’t know, but I put it on my morning list of questions we need to answer.”
While some people created a to-do list, Tyler created question lists. He claimed he hated chores, but loved finding answers. So if a chore could be written as a question, he would get it done. Austin and Dallas had teased Tyler about the stupid head games he played with himself, but they had both learned the value of Tyler’s oddball ways.
“Good question.” Austin got up to get coffee.
“What are your other questions?” Dallas sipped his coffee and eyed Tyler over the rim of his cup. Oddball are not, of the three of them, Tyler was the best investigator. He saw angles and asked questions that Dallas and Austin didn’t think of. Not that Tyler’s angles were always right, but five times out of ten, one of his questions helped solve a case.
Tyler picked up his notepad. “Okay but these are for both cases and my… personal inquiries.” The emphasis Tyler put on “personal” meant something, but Dallas ignored it.
“Just read the list,” Dallas said.
Tyler looked back at the pad. “ ‘Who’s the witness at last night’s robbery homicide?’ ”
“Good one,” Dallas said. “And hopefully Tony will help us answer that one.”
Tyler tapped a pen against his list. “ ‘What was the relationship between Andrew Brian and Jack Leon?’“
“Another good one,” Dallas said. “I’ll see if Nikki knows anything about this man. And since Serena is using them to try to sue me for custody of Bud, I might go in and have myself a little chat with her lawyer.”
“It might work.” Tyler looked back at his list. “Number three, ‘Why does Detective Shane have a hard-on for our boy Nance?’ ”
“What do you mean?” Austin asked, resettling in his leather chair. “Nance was Shane’s arrest. He doesn’t want anyone to prove he screwed up.”
“Yeah. But Nance said it was Detective Shane who went to his house last night. That case was a homicide. It was Tony’s case, not Shane’s. It just seems as if paying Nance a visit after midnight goes above the call of duty.”
Dallas chewed on that thought. “Maybe he feels it’s personal because we’re trying to prove him wrong? But I see your point. Look into it?”
Tyler nodded.
“Is that all? No more questions?” Dallas asked.
“Just one more.”
“Shoot,” Dallas said.
“O… kay.” Now it was Tyler who wore the shit-eating grin. “ ‘What is it about the blonde in Dallas’s bedroom that has him so damn nervous?’ ”
Dallas rolled his eyes. “On that note, I’ll go make a few phone calls.” Coffee in hand, he went back to his apartment. He started into the kitchen, but detoured down the hall. He eased open his bedroom door. Bud raised his head, then plopped it back on the bed as if to say, “Don’t even try to make me leave.”
What is it about the blonde in Dallas’s bedroom that has him so damn nervous?
It was a good question. And one Dallas hoped to answer soon.
Leaning against the door frame, he blew off the steam billowing up from the cup, and sipped at the hot brew. The desire to crawl in bed with Nikki and his dog was damn near irresistible.
Tony needed sleep, but with so much shit hitting the fan and slinging his way, if he took a few hours off, he’d be knee deep in crap. His cell beeped with a missed call as he walked into Methodist Hospital. He hoped it wasn’t Dallas. His brother was going to blow a gasket when he learned what Nikki’s ex in-laws had said. Sure, Tony had to tell him, but not now.
He pulled out his phone and saw it was Joe with CSU. Tony had called Joe about seven times trying to get a report on the last two homicides, but Joe always took his sweet ass time.
Tony started to call Joe back but decided to do the interview first. Hopefully, Joe would have something that would help Nikki Hunt’s case.
According to Mrs. Leon, Nikki Hunt was a gold digger from the wrong side of the tracks, who married their son for his money and then insisted on alimony when they divorced. Thankfully their son had been smart enough to have her sign the prenuptial agreement. However, her son hadn’t been smart enough to cancel the quarter-million-dollar life insurance policy that listed Nikki Hunt as the sole beneficiary. In Texas, a divorce automatically removed an ex as the beneficiary, but not if a spouse had his ex reinstated afterward. Which according to Mrs. Leon, her son had done, because Nikki had insisted. Now Mrs. Leon wanted Nikki arrested.
Tony had called the insurance agency and confirmed the Leons’ story. Although Tony suspected Nikki Hunt wasn’t going to come out as clean she appeared, he’d been shocked by this. He’d learned a long time ago that most anyone could be provoked to kill, but to plan a murder for money, that took a special kind of lowlife.
With Dallas’s evidence speech from this morning bouncing in his head, Tony wasn’t ready to put a pair of handcuffs on Nikki. Tony just hoped Dallas realized that if something didn’t turn up soon, he wouldn’t have a choice.
The Leons were rich and influential people. Not that Tony would let that influence the case, but he’d made arrests on less probable cause. Still, things didn’t add up.
Heading to the ICU unit, hoping to get in to see Marjorie Brown, the second shooting vic from last night’s robbery-homicide case, he paused at the hall where LeAnn had been working yesterday. Would she be here today? Hell, he went to see. The desk was unmanned and his chest ached with a flash of disappointment.
Whenever things got bad at work, LeAnn had been his touchstone to make things better. Just sliding in bed beside her, or watching her do silly stuff like rearrange the living room for the hundredth time, or watch her reading a book, made the ugly things he saw on the job less disturbing. The woman exemplified not just the good in the world, but its simple pleasures. And with the day and night he’d had, he could really use his touchstone now.
He missed her. Seeing her yesterday had made him realize how much. A nurse strolled out of a room and Tony walked over. “Is LeAnn O’Connor working today?”
The woman sized him up.
“I’m her husband,” he added. He didn’t say estranged, hoping that would change.
“She’s on break.”
The thought of seeing her filled his chest with joy. “Do you know where she goes on break?”
“The moon?” She offered him a smile. “Or maybe the cafeteria.”
He smiled. “Where’s that?”
She gave him directions.
“Thanks.” He started to lea
ve.
“How long have you two been married?” she asked.
“Over two years. Why?”
She grinned. “The way you lit up when I said she was here, I thought you were honeymooners.”
“She’s special.” As he made his way to the elevator, he decided to ask LeAnn out to dinner on Sunday. Take her somewhere nice. Maybe dancing. LeAnn loved to dance.
An image of her eight months pregnant dancing around the living room filled his mind. The pregnant part of the memory sobered his mood. He knew she was still hurting. Sooner or later, they had to talk about Emily. But not now. Now he just wanted to see his wife.
Nikki felt the wonderful peace of sleep being pulled out from under her. Resting on her side, she buried her cheek deeper into her pillow and tried to snatch back that sense of peace. However, the feel of the pillow against her cheek didn’t help. It felt… different somehow. As a matter of fact, everything felt different.
The mattress. It was firmer than hers.
The smells in the room. Spicy male aroma—so totally not the way her bedroom smelled.
The sensation of brightness behind her closed lids. Her bedroom wasn’t this bright.
However, she didn’t feel alarmed until she noted the biggest difference of all. She wasn’t alone on the firm mattress in the bright room filled with yummy scents.
The bulky, warm weight of someone at her back sent panic through her veins.
Oh crap! Her eyes popped open.
Completely disoriented, she didn’t move anything but her eyes. Left to right, she took in her surroundings. The raw urge to scream crawled up her throat when she didn’t recognize anything that her wide-eyed visual sweep took in. Not the gray walls, the huge pine dresser or the pair of jeans—a man’s jeans—casually tossed over the top of that dresser.
The mental fog started to lift and bam, she remembered. Jack, dead. Ellen, attacked. Her place, ransacked. And the good-looking, masculine-smelling PI who’d come to her rescue.
The bulky warmth at her back shifted ever so slightly. Had he… Had she…? Oh, damn!
Forcing her brain into recall action, she collected bits and pieces of data. He’d brought her to his place. She’d showered. He refused to let her sleep on the sofa. She’d gone to his bed. Alone. She was sure she’d gone to bed alone.
She recalled tossing and turning. His smell in the bed had been intoxicating. As aromatic and tempting as cupcakes in a bright yellow kitchen—Nana’s old kitchen.
But this wasn’t Nana’s kitchen and Nikki prayed she hadn’t already indulged in any—metaphorical—cupcakes. Taking a deep breath, she realized she was fully dressed. Well, as dressed as one could be when wearing boxer-style shorts and a tank top. She did one more lap around her brain, searching for anything that led her to believe she’d given into temptation.
Finally convinced that while he might have joined her in the bed, they hadn’t done the deed, she took in a deep breath. The bulk against her upper back, possibly a shoulder, shifted again. Then she felt it… the rake of a warm tongue against her neck.
Nikki froze. He… licked her? What kind of a pervert was he? Sure, she was in his bed, but hadn’t she argued to take the couch? Had he come in here with hopes of… Men! Dogs every one of them!
“You’d better retract that tongue, buster, before you lose it,” she said in a justifiably bitchy whisper, and waited for his reply.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A DEEP, HALF SIGH, half moan was the only answer Nikki received. Was he not awake? Suddenly an obnoxious odor filled her nasal cavity. She covered her nose. Men were such uncultured beasts. She went to ease out of the bed when she heard a loud snore. Make that a snort.
“So you’re not going to explain it, huh?” she asked.
“Explain what?” a deep voice replied. Only it didn’t come from…
She raised her head off the pillow. Dallas O’Connor stood at the door. If he was… Who was…? She rolled over and stared at the dog.
“You mean Bud,” Dallas said. “Sorry. He snuck in when I came to check on you,”
The canine opened his eyes, and proceeded to pass gas again. She actually heard it this time. Slow… and deadly.
The smell intensified. She pressed her hand over her nose and rolled out of bed.
The stench must have reached the doorway, because Dallas slapped his hand over his nose and looked mortified. “I’m sorry,” he said, his hand still held over his nose as he walked into the room and pointed to the dog. “Bud, get out of here.” Dallas’s gaze shifted back to her. “I’ll bet Tyler fed him people food last night. He can’t do people food. But does Tyler listen? Hell, no!”
Nikki, still half-asleep, wasn’t quite over the fact that she’d thought it was Dallas in bed with her, licking her neck and emitting the disgusting odors. A giggle started building in her chest. She shifted her hand over her mouth, but when the smell filled her nose again, she moved her hand back up.
“Out, Bud. Good Lord, what did Tyler feed you—dead skunk?” His gaze met hers again. “I’m sorry.”
The giggle escaped. Dallas studied her and his eyes crinkled with grin lines. Even with half his face covered with his hand, he looked really good in grin lines. And the tight T-shirt and fitted jeans didn’t look bad on him, either. She thought about cupcakes again and hard-to-resist temptations.
“Why don’t we leave the room before that smell attaches itself to us?” He turned and walked out, Bud at his heels.
Nikki followed. “But aren’t we bringing the source of the smell with us?”
He bolted out a laugh. It was deep and rich, and reached deep into Nikki’s chest and made her want to hear it again.
It wasn’t until they stood in the living room facing each other, that some of the awkwardness from the night before returned.
“You want some coffee?” he asked, still looking cupcake-good.
“That would be great. Thank you.” Realizing her hair was probably all over the place, that her breath was stale and her eyes were still morning puffy, she motioned toward the hall. “I’m… restroom.”
“Yeah.”
She felt him watching her as she moved down the hall. Awkwardness intensified with each step. The cloud of morning haze lifted and reality rained down on her like thumbtacks. She had to call and make sure Ellen was okay. She had to call Nana and see if she could borrow her car so she could visit Ellen. She had to get to the art gallery and see how badly ransacked it was. Oh, and she needed to clean up her place.
Instead of going into the bathroom, she darted into the bedroom, where she’d left her overnight bag, which had her purse and her cell phone. The smell still thrived in the room, but she ignored it. She found the cell phone then searched through her purse for the receipt where she’d written Ellen’s mom’s number.
It wasn’t in the side pocket. It wasn’t in the middle pocket.
What the hell had she done with it?
Suddenly realizing how bright the sun was streaming through the open blinds, she grabbed the phone and hit time. Twelve o’clock.
Oh shit. Her panic grew. She dropped on the floor and feverishly searched. Finally, she found it. She dialed the number.
It rang once. Twice. The image of Ellen’s hand hanging from the gurney flashed in Nikki’s head. Fear filled her chest. “Answer. Please answer.”
“Hello, Nikki.”
“Mrs. Wise.” No time for pleasantries, she blurted out, “Is Ellen okay?” Nikki’s voice shook, but she couldn’t stop it. Her friend had almost died and she’d stayed in bed until noon without a care in the world. She couldn’t believe she’d done this.
“She’s fine.”
“Thank God.” Nikki pulled her knees up to her chest.
“I just talked to Milton and he said she was more alert than ever. I’m about to go to the hospital now.”
“I’ll see you there soon,” Nikki said, her voice still shaky.
“You okay?” Mrs. Wise asked.
“I’m fine.” Nik
ki batted back tears she hadn’t known she’d released.
“I know you had a terrible day yesterday yourself. I’m sure you have to deal with… your ex-in-laws and their loss.”
Nikki realized how totally, unforgivably neglectful she’d been. She hadn’t called Jack’s parents. How could she not have called them? Did they know? Surely, someone had called them, right?
Emotion swelled in her chest. “I… need to go,” she managed to say.
“Take care of yourself.”
Nikki stared at the phone. Jack’s parents had never been fond of her. They’d wanted Jack to marry well. In their opinion, a girl raised in a small house on the wrong side of the tracks by her grandmother—because her parents had abandoned their bastard child—didn’t exactly meet their expectations. And those had been Jack’s words, not Jack’s parents’ or her own. Of course, he’d laughed afterward and told her he’d been joking. When she didn’t seem to think it was funny, he’d told her he didn’t care what his parents thought of her. He’d married her, hadn’t he? It still had hurt. Maybe in part because she’d begun to question if their dislike of her wasn’t part of Jack’s attraction to her. A rich kid, rebelling against Mom and Dad.
But their lack of affection, even Jack’s lack of tact, didn’t excuse Nikki’s behavior now. How in God’s name had she forgotten to contact them? Had Dallas’s brother been in touch with them? Surely, he’d contacted the next of kin, right? Or had he expected Nikki to do that?
At the very least it was unforgivable for her not to offer her condolences. She’d been Jack’s wife, their daughter-in-law. She’d gone out to eat with them once a week on the mandatory parents’ night and she’d sat at their dining room table over three years of holiday dinners. She’d owed them the courtesy of a phone call and had fallen short.
Knowing their number by heart, she dialed, and prayed the right words would come to her.
“You!” A feminine shriek shook the line. “How dare you call!”
“Mrs. Leon,” Nikki managed to say. “I’m sorry. I should have been the one to… tell you.”
“Tell me what? That you murdered my boy? I hope that cop arrests you and you spend the rest of your life in prison!”
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