“I’m serious.”
“Okay,” Tyler’s voice lost the humor, “you think she’s really in danger?”
“I think it still bugs the shit out of me that Nikki and her friend Ellen look so much alike. If she had someone else with her I wouldn’t worry.”
“I could shut the office and go—”
“No, I need you to run down those names.”
“I know a few cops who take babysitting gigs. Wouldn’t tell them about Austin getting Maced, but…”
Dallas ran a hand through his hair. “I’m probably overreacting. Wait. What about Nance? See if he wants to hang out with Nikki. He said he was broke. Offer him a good hourly rate. And make sure he has a cell phone in case of emergency.”
“He’s not paying us and we’re going to pay him,” Tyler said. “You know we really suck at business.”
“I think we can afford it.”
“It wouldn’t matter if we couldn’t,” Tyler said and Dallas knew his friend meant it. “Oh, you’re going to tell Nikki that Nance is watching her, right?”
He considered it. “Yeah. She probably won’t like it, but I think she’ll accept it.”
“Then I’ll get right on it.”
“And get me that info on the names. I want to go there after I’m done here.” Dallas hung up and called Nikki. As he expected, she didn’t like the idea of having a companion. However, when he explained it was a kid—also being framed for a crime—who needed to earn some money, she relented.
Happy, Dallas walked into the Brian and Sterns Law Firm. A tall blonde walked into the reception area from an office as Dallas stepped inside.
She gave him a puzzled look. “May I help you?”
“You sure may.” He put on the charm. “I’m here to see Mr. Canton. To discuss my custody battle… over my dog. Can you really believe my ex is willing to take me to court for a dog?”
She grinned. “I heard about that. You have an appointment?”
“Sure do.”
“Name?” she asked.
“Dallas O’Connor. Yours?” he asked.
“Rachel Peterson.” She stared at the computer screen with a puzzled expression. Then she blinked and the look vanished. Dallas wondered if she was putting him together with Tony. It wouldn’t be in his best interest if she were.
“Let me see if Mr. Canton is ready for you.”
“I’d appreciate that, Rachel.”
She made the call, exchanged a bit of conversation, and then hung up. “He asked if you can give him ten minutes.”
“Sure. If you don’t mind putting up with me.” Dallas knew the support staff in an office—secretaries and receptionists—generally knew more about the goings-on than the higher ranked employees.
“That wouldn’t be a hardship.” She smiled the way a woman did when she approved of the merchandise. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?”
“Sounds good.”
In a few minutes, she returned with coffee. “So why kind of dog is it?” she asked.
“English bulldog.”
“I love them.” She looked at him again in that puzzled way. “Do you have a brother?”
Inside he flinched, wondering how hard it would be to milk any information out of anyone if they put him and Tony together. “I do.”
“Is he a detective?”
Dallas nodded, still trying to figure out how to work this now. “That’s right. He’s working a case about one of your partners here. The one who was killed by his ex.”
“That’s what they’re saying. Your brother came here asking questions. Makes me think that… well, he suspects someone from here is guilty.”
Dallas wondered if she was particularly worried. “He’s just doing his job. Or do you think someone here did do it?”
“No. I mean, like I told him, when you get this many lawyers”—she leaned in—“this many egos in one building, it’s not always friendly. But do I think anyone here killed him? No. My bet would be on the wife.”
Dallas liked her desire to talk, even if he didn’t like what she said. When she reached for her coffee, he noticed her extremely toned biceps. “You know, you look familiar to me, too. Do you belong to a gym? I used to go to one off Banker Road.”
“I never went to that one, but I go to the Fitness Plus off of Cabot.”
“I got a visitor pass there a while back. I’ll bet I saw you. What’s the name of that trainer, the dark-headed guy?”
“Larry?”
“Yeah, I think that was his name,” Dallas lied and felt his eyebrow jumping up and down. “I almost joined just because of him.”
“You should join.” She smiled. “We could work out together.”
“That would be nice.”
“How about this afternoon? I get off at four and I go for an hour workout.”
Dallas considered what he wanted to be doing around four—sweet talking Nikki—and came a breath away from asking for a rain check. Then again, wasn’t getting information to prove Nikki innocent more important that taking her to bed? Hell, different parts of his body held opposing opinions.
Five minutes later, with a date to work out—and hopefully to chat—with the fit receptionist, Dallas sat across from Mr. Canton, Serena’s attorney.
“I’m glad you’re willing to discuss this,” Canton said. “We should settle this out of court.”
Dallas fought the urge to tell the man he’d take this to the supreme court before he’d give up Bud. He’d given Selena everything, hadn’t asked for one damn thing since he got out of prison, not even the twenty thousand they’d had in their savings account. Or the money she’d made selling his truck. He’d give up his dog over his dead body.
But he hadn’t come here to give the man a piece of his mind. He’d come hoping to get some information. And right now being cooperative seemed like the best way to reach his goal.
“I’m willing to talk. What kind of deal does my ex want?”
“Well.” Canton pulled out his file. “Joint custody and…”
The man went on for about three minutes outlining all the crap Dallas would never agree to, and it was hell keeping his mouth shut.
“All I need is for you to sign here and—”
“First, I’d like a chance to go over it. I’ll probably sign it, but I want to make sure Bud isn’t getting shafted in this deal. He’s a sensitive dog.”
“Seriously?” Canton looked surprised. “I mean, sure.”
Dallas leaned forward. “I heard my brother was in here earlier.”
“Your brother?”
“Detective O’Connor. He’s working the homicide case.”
“Oh, I haven’t seen him yet. I think I have a meeting with him on Monday.”
“Sad thing about Jack Leon. He told me about it.”
“Yeah.” Canton picked up his pen. “Does he really think the wife did this?”
“You sound like you don’t believe it. Surely, working family law, you’ve seen it all.”
“Yes, but I’ve met the ex-wife. She doesn’t seem the type.”
“I got the feeling my brother thought that way, too. I think the whole wife-did-it is only one of his theories.”
“And his other?” Canton asked.
“Well, he doesn’t discuss his cases but, as an ex-cop, I’d guess his showing up here says something. You aren’t going to get yourself arrested before you finish my case, are you?”
“Your brother suspects someone here?” Canton asked, avoiding Dallas’s question.
“Something about office politics was mentioned. Making partner.”
Canton frowned. “That doesn’t mean one of us killed him. Hell, if they want to look at something, they should look at Jack’s philandering. He may have come across all straight and narrow, but he didn’t meet a skirt he didn’t chase.”
By the time Dallas left the law firm, Tyler had called him three times with updates. In the first call Tyler announced that he had an address for the busboy and his girlfriend, An
gela Martina. Call number two reported the discovery that the busboy had a possession charge not too long ago. Third call was to report that Austin had checked in and was now trying to talk to Jack Leon’s neighbors, and to let Dallas know that Nance was at the gallery keeping an eye on Nikki.
Checking his watch, Dallas figured he had an hour and half before he had to meet the receptionist for their workout-chat. He headed over to Angela Martina’s apartment, a five-minute drive away, and dialed Nikki’s cell. He hadn’t been away from her for more than an hour but he missed her.
The moment she answered the phone, Nikki started talking. “I can’t believe Nance did something wrong. He’s not a bad kid, Dallas.”
A sense of rightness filled his chest that Nikki agreed. “I know.”
“You guys have to get him off.”
“I’m doing everything I can.” And with you, too, he thought.
“Did you know he was an artist and had an art scholarship before this happened?”
“I didn’t know it was art, but I knew he had a scholarship. Hey, not to change the subject, but I was thinking about dinner. How about I cook steaks on the grill? We can hang out together. Alone.” He put emphasis on the “alone.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded a tad breathless.
“Maybe work on those multiple choice questions I gave you this morning. Adding that D, all of the above choice.” When she didn’t answer, he asked. “Are you blushing right now?”
“No.”
“Liar.” He could hear the embarrassment in her voice.
“You can’t prove it,” she countered.
He laughed and realized he’d laughed more since he met her than he had since he’d gotten out of prison. It was a good change, but change was always scary. But as he’d told her, in a lot of ways scary was good. Scary was invigorating.
“I have to do something at five. You go on back to my place. Austin’s going to snag your car from the police station and bring it there. I’ll swing by the store on the way home and grab a few groceries. I should be there by six thirty.”
“I can get my car.”
“I already talked to Austin.”
“Okay, but why don’t I just stay here until then?” she said, no doubt having reservations about staying at his place. Oddly enough, he didn’t have any reservations. Not that this was permanent or anything. One day at a time.
“I guess,” he said. “Oh, I forgot to ask you something earlier. Did Jack have your cell number?”
“Yes. But I never took his calls. Why?”
“He didn’t try to call you after he left the restaurant?”
“No. Why?”
“Just trying to figure things out.”
“What things?”
“What he was doing by your car.”
“You mean besides getting murdered?” Her tone deepened.
“Yeah, besides that.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. The viewing is tonight at the funeral home. I don’t know if I should go.”
“No,” he said adamantly. “If you show up, it will just rile the Leons.”
“That’s sort of what I thought but…” Her line beeped. “I have a call coming in. It’s probably Nana.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up at the gallery. And tell Nance to stay until I get there.”
Dallas knocked on Angela Martina’s apartment door a few minutes later. He’d thought Nikki’s apartment was bad. This complex looked like something from a third-world nation.
He heard a piercing cry. The door swung open. Standing in front of him was a dark-haired girl, who couldn’t be over seventeen, holding a screaming baby.
“What?” she asked and the baby wasn’t the only one crying. Tears spilled down the girl’s face.
“I’m looking for Angela Martina.”
“What for?” The baby let out another scream.
“Are you Angela?”
“If you’re from the hospital, I told you I don’t have the money.” Another stream of tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I’m not from the hospital.”
“Then who are you?”
He went with the truth. “I’m a private detective.”
“What’s Jose done now?” She swiped at her cheeks.
The five- or six-month-old baby was red-faced from screaming. “Is he okay?”
“She. She’s a girl and doctors say she’s fine. Just a fussy baby. Does this sound like a fussy baby to you?”
Dallas looked at the child. “I… wouldn’t know about babies.”
“What do you want with Jose?”
“I just want to talk to him.”
“Well, that makes two of us.” She copped an attitude. “What do you need to talk to him about?”
“Someone got poisoned at his restaurant.”
“Poisoned?” She shook her head. “You think he had something to do with it? No… if you said it was selling or smoking weed, I’d say yes. But that? No.”
“Like I said, I just want to talk to him. So he’s not here?”
“He hasn’t been here in couple of days.” Her eyes grew bright. “He was supposed to watch the baby while I work. He goes off and loses his job, and now I’m going to lose mine. The rent’s not paid, they’re going to cut off the power next week. My parents told me he’d do this, but did I listen? Hell, no!”
“Did he say why he lost his job?”
“He wouldn’t tell me. He looked high again. I’m so sick of this. He promised he’d change. He’d help me take care of the baby. And now they won’t even let me pick up his check. The baby needs diapers and milk and…” She took a shaky breath, as if realizing she was spilling her guts to a stranger. She snatched a pink cloth from her shoulder and covered her eyes.
Now Dallas didn’t know who was crying harder, her or the baby. Oh Lord, he wasn’t good with crying females. “Uh, I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
She took a few hiccuppy breaths. “No it won’t, but thanks.”
He hesitated to ask but couldn’t afford not to. “Do you know where I might find Jose?”
“Maybe hanging out at his friends’ place. I have their address.” She stepped from the door and motioned him inside.
He took one step inside. She swung around and Dallas knew he’d screwed up royally.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“OH, NO,” DALLAS SAID, but she’d already dropped the unhappy baby in his arms. With a shitload of insecurities, he held the screaming little person about a foot away from his chest.
“Wait,” he said. “I don’t know how to hold it. Her. I don’t know how…”
Angela was already across the room. She looked back at him. “Just pull her to your chest.” She started thumbing through an address book with a pen and paper in her hand.
He brought the squirming child closer and she looked up at him and released another ear-piercing scream. “Don’t cry. Mama will be right back.” He tried to sound soothing, but he obviously failed.
The baby cried harder and started kicking her legs and arms. “I don’t think she likes me. You might want to hurry.”
“Don’t take it personally. She does this all the time.”
She finished scribbling down some information. He held the child out, ready to be relieved of duty. Right before Angela took the baby, the child made a strange noise. Before Dallas could react, a milky-looking substance spewed out of the baby’s mouth and soaked Dallas’s shirt.
Angela burst out laughing. “The doctor calls her a projectile burper.”
“Yeah.” He handed the baby, still leaking projectile burp, to her mom.
Giggling, Angela handed him the pink cloth. “I’m sorry.”
He looked at his shirt. “It’s okay. I seem to have that effect on women lately.” He returned her cloth.
She handed him the paper. “If you find Jose, tell him I’m going back to San Antonio to my parents.”
Dallas looked from her to the child who’d finally shut up. And damn if the little toothless wonder didn’t smil
e up at him.
“She’s cute when she’s not screaming,” he said.
“She has her moments.” The girl gently pressed a kiss to the child’s head.
“If you hear from him, give me a call.” Dallas pulled out his wallet to give her his card. He saw the stack of twenties and thought what the hell. He handed her both the card and some money. “For diapers. Call me if you hear from him.”
“You don’t have to do this,” she said.
“I know.” He smiled. “Take care of the projectile burper.”
Dallas had just enough time to run back to the apartment, change his shirt, and grab some workout clothes before leaving to meet Rachel at the gym. On his way in, he stopped by the front office and updated the guys on what he’d learned. Austin agreed to try to locate the deadbeat dad-busboy before he picked up Nikki’s car.
When he headed for the apartment, his shirt already off, Tyler yelled at him. Dallas popped back into the office. “What?”
Tyler eyed him. “You get puked on again?”
“As matter of fact, I did. What do you need? I gotta run.”
“You had a visitor.” Tyler grimaced. “Serena.”
Fuck. “What the hell did she want?”
“She didn’t say. I told her to call you.”
“Why did you tell her that?”
“I thought it would be better than her showing up again later when… when you and Nikki are… getting to know each other.”
“She better not show up.” Dallas started off again.
“Wait,” Tyler said.
Dallas swung around, losing his patience. “What?”
“My cousin was here.”
“Your cousin?”
“To bring you a sofa.”
That was before he convinced Nikki to sleep with him. “Fine.” He started down the hall.
“I typed exactly what you said,” Tyler’s voice followed him. “You didn’t care if it was pink as…”
Dallas didn’t understand what Tyler was ranting about. Or he didn’t until he opened his apartment door. A huge bright fuchsia-pink sofa sat in the living room.
“Shit,” he grumbled and went to get dressed.
Nikki was giving Eddie Nance, the kid Dallas sent over, an art lesson when her cell rang. Because she’d just spoken with Ellen, who was doing well enough to gripe about going home, Nikki felt her pulse race. Hoping it was Dallas again, she stepped away from Eddie.
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