Bride On the Run

by Leann Harris

  The secretary, a blonde in an expensive suit, greeted them with a well-modulated voice and plastic smile.

  “We’d like to see Mr. Weston,” Luke informed the woman.

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  He hated the condescension in her voice. Pulling his badge from his coat pocket, he flashed it in front of Miss High-and-Mighty. “No, but this is police business.”

  The woman examined the badge. “That is a Dallas shield. Do you have any authority here?”

  Luke leaned down. “A woman’s been murdered. A woman your boss knew intimately. Now, I could call the local police in here and they can haul your expensive butt in for questioning. Or we can do it the easy way, and you can let me speak to your boss.”

  The woman’s chin shot up. “Well,” she huffed before stalking off.

  “What’s the matter with you, McGill?” J.D. asked. “Is it a personal goal of yours to see how many people you can offend?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “People like her, who think money can excuse anything, irritate me.”

  “Is that what you have against me? That my dad has money?”

  The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Nope. My feelings for you come from personal experience.”

  She knew he referred to their skirmishes in court, but the tone of his words evoked feelings that had nothing to do with court battles.

  “I’m Perry Odell, Hal’s partner.” Luke and J.D. turned to the tall man. “May I help you?”

  “I’m Detective Lucas McGill of the Dallas Police Department. And this is J.D. Anderson. We need to speak with Mr. Weston about a murder investigation the Dallas police are currently conducting.”

  “Hal’s out of town at the moment. Perhaps I can help?” He motioned to the door at the end of the hall. “Why don’t we go into my office and talk.”

  Luke glanced around the well-appointed room which screamed wealth. He thought of J.D.’s office compared to this one. She came from money, but she didn’t flash it like a badge of honor as this man did. He liked that about her.

  Luke caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and looked at J.D. She pointed to a photo on the wall. Perry and one of the men in Gwen’s pictures were captured holding some sort of plaque alongside the governor.

  “Who’s the other man in that picture?” Luke asked.

  “That’s Hal. The governor was giving our firm an award for our fund-raising for local charities.” Perry sat on the corner of his desk. “Now, what is this about a murder investigation? Who was murdered?”

  “Your partner’s ex-live-in girlfriend, Gwen Kennedy.” Luke pulled a notebook from his pocket. “Tell me about Mr. Weston’s relationship with Ms. Kennedy.”

  Mr. Odell’s fashionably tanned face turned a faint shade of green. “What’s to tell? He and Gwen met at some political gathering. They started dating, then about two months later moved in together.”

  “Do you know why she moved out three weeks ago?” Luke asked.

  Picking up a gold-colored pen from his desk, Mr. Odell shook his head. “No. I came back to the office late several weeks ago and heard them arguing, but Hal’s door was closed and I didn’t hear what the fight was about.” He tapped the pen against his leg, and Luke sensed that there was more.

  “What else happened, Mr. Odell?”

  He lifted his shoulder, trying to appear unconcerned. “The next morning, the building superintendent complained that if there was another occurrence of broken glass and pots in our offices again, he was going to have to charge us an extra cleaning fee.”

  “So you think the fight between Hal and Gwen escalated into violence where blows were traded?”

  “I think they threw things at each other. But that was the only time in the two years they were together that sort of thing happened.”

  “That you know about,” J.D. supplied.

  Both men looked at her as if startled by her presence. Mr. Odell nodded.

  Luke arched his brow, reminding J.D. who the detective was. She gave him a nod, relinquishing the questioning back to him.

  “Thank you,” Luke said to J.D. He turned to Perry. “What kind of firm is Weston & Odell?”

  “We’re a publicity firm that specializes in lobbying. Companies hire us to represent their interests before the legislature. Gwen was also a lobbyist. I think that’s why she and Hal hit it off so fast.”

  Luke stood. “Thank you for your time and help. If I have any more questions, I’ll be in touch.”

  He saw J.D. open her mouth, but before she could say anything, he grasped her elbow and escorted her out of the office.

  J.D. tugged her arm from his grip and glared at him. “I don’t appreciate being manhandled like that, McGill.”

  “Sorry.” She didn’t look very appeased by his apology. “I knew you were going to spill the beans about the pictures, and I don’t want Perry Odell to know we have them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, Counselor, if he’s involved with the blackmail scheme, I didn’t want to let him know we have those pictures.”

  “Then how are we going to find out who the redhead in bed with the senator is?”

  The elevator doors slid open. “Trust me. We’ll find out.”

  * * *

  “Well, that was an exercise in futility,” J.D. said. “I’ve never seen such sidestepping, not since that last time I took guests to the horse barn at the rodeo in Fort Worth. If Gwen’s name hadn’t been on the door, those people never would’ve admitted she worked there.”

  “It’s called covering your a—”

  “I know what it’s called,” she snapped, pushing open the lobby door. She plunged into the crowd crossing the street, oblivious to whether Luke followed.

  “Where are you going?” he yelled, catching up with her in the middle of the street.

  She pointed to the store on the corner. “There.”

  Luke stopped and stared at the candy store. Why was she going in there? A car horn brought him out of his stupor. He caught sight of J.D.’s shapely backside as she disappeared through the door.

  He joined her inside. “What does this have to do with the investigation?”

  She rounded on him. “Not a cotton-pickin’ thing. I’m frustrated, mad and hungry. And I want some fudge. Got any objections?”

  Her expression dared him to say something disparaging. One wrong word and she would rake him up one side and down the other with her razor-sharp tongue. He couldn’t blame her for her reaction. He wouldn’t mind picking a fistfight with someone just to relieve his own frustration.

  He shook his head. “None. As a matter of fact, you can buy me some. With nuts.”

  The tension drained out of her face and she grinned, reminding him of a naughty child sneaking something past her parents. He felt a corresponding lightness spring to life in him.

  After she paid the clerk, she handed him his fudge. Without waiting for him to unwrap his candy, she broke off a large piece of her sinfully dark chocolate treat and popped it into her mouth.

  Throwing back her head, she closed her eyes and moaned. “Mmm...heavenly.”

  The sight of her sensual abandon hit Luke square in the gut. He swallowed, and the sugar and nuts in his mouth went down the wrong way. Instantly, she was by his side, pounding him on the back.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure?” Concern touched her features.

  “Positive.”

  She shrugged, then broke off another piece of fudge. He watched her reaction again. Although it was not at the level of abandon as her first taste, he could see her give herself over to the pleasure of the treat. Is that how she would look after a thorough loving?

  Luke reeled at the thought.

  “You’re right, Luke.”

  His eyes flew to her face. She couldn’t possibly mean that that’s how she’d look after a night of love.

  “I’m an addict. But I can’t think of anything more pleasant to be
addicted to.”

  “Oh.” She was turning his mind to mush, torturing his body by tying it into so many knots it was all but impossible to straighten it out, and putting impossible dreams into his head.

  “What do we do next?” J.D. asked.

  Luke glanced down Congress Avenue to the capitol building. A special session of the legislature was meeting, giving them a golden opportunity to question the members about Gwen. He pointed to the capitol. “That’s our next stop.”

  “Sounds good to me.” She wadded up her sack and tossed it into the trash can. “We might as well walk, because we’ll never find a parking space up there.”

  * * *

  “Why don’t we go up into the gallery and see if we can spot any of the people in Gwen’s picture on the senate floor.”

  Luke was good. He seemed to know how to get to the heart of any matter, even if he did step on toes in his quest. It had become increasingly obvious to her as the day had worn on that Luke didn’t tolerate any nonsense from the people he questioned. He was fair and straightforward and expected the same from those he interviewed. “Good suggestion.”

  His brow arched over those whiskey-colored eyes. His normally cool gaze held a flicker of surprise. She wondered why he was shocked when she acknowledged his expertise. She had never doubted his skill. It was just his methods that she’d challenged in court.

  The gallery was empty, with the exception of a couple of spectators and a lone man with a press pass clipped to his sports coat, busily writing on a notepad. He looked up and a wide grin spread across his face. J.D. instantly recognized Steve Banks, a political reporter for one of the major Dallas/Fort Worth television stations.

  Steve hooked an elbow over the back of his seat, directing his gaze toward Luke. “What ill wind blew you into town?”

  Luke laughed. “We’ve hit pay dirt, J.D.”

  “Gold, Luke. That’s what I am. Gold.”

  “Steve, you haven’t grown any humbler since you worked the police beat years ago.” Luke turned to J.D. “This guy always did have an inflated view of himself. And after he won that award, we exiled him to Austin. Thought his ego would match the ones down here.”

  The warm camaraderie between the two men made J.D. smile. It wasn’t often she’d seen Luke tease someone, let alone allow them to tease him.

  Steve pointedly looked over Luke’s shoulder at J.D. He rose and extended his hand. “Luke may have no manners, but I do. My name is Steve Banks.”

  She shook his hand. “I recognized you, Mr. Banks. I’m J.D. Anderson.”

  Steve rubbed his chin. “You look familiar. You’re not in politics, are you?”

  “No.”

  “I should remember a woman as good-looking as you.”

  J.D. noted the frown on Luke’s face the moment before he said, “I heard about your divorce from Ann. I’m sorry.”

  A bitter chuckle escaped the reporter’s lips. “That’s what she said—that I was a sorry excuse for a man.” He shook off the depressing mood. “What brings you to Austin? You haven’t left the Dallas P.D., have you?”

  “Nope. J.D. and I are investigating the murder of one of J.D.’s clients. Maybe you can help, since politics is your beat now.”

  “Sure. Anything I can do to help.”

  “Do you know Gwen Kennedy? She was a lobbyist with the liquor lobby.”

  “Yeah, I know her. Gwen is one of the hottest lobbyists here in Austin. She doesn’t work strictly for the liquor lobby, though. She also does some independent work. Word is, if you want a bill passed, have Gwen lobby it for you. She has an amazing success record.”

  J.D. leaned forward. “So she’s thought of highly?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Then why would anyone want to kill her?” J.D. directed her question at Luke.

  Steve went still. “She’s dead?”

  Luke glared at J.D. before turning back to Steve. “Steve, I’ll make a deal with you. I tell you what we know in exchange for your help in identifying some photos we have. But you’ve got to keep the lid on it for a while. Can you live with that?”

  “How long’s a while?”

  “I’ve got the feeling this murder isn’t going to stand still long. Six weeks at the most.”

  With his finger, Steve tapped his lips, considering the deal. “Okay. Tell me what you know.”

  Luke quickly filled him in on their sketchy information. When he finished, J.D. handed him the pictures.

  “You’ve got a bomb here, Luke, that’s going to blow the roof off this building.”

  “Who’s the redhead?”

  “Gail Williams. She’s a lobbyist for the insurance industry. The old fool she’s in bed with is Elliot Reynolds. He’s the head of the subcommittee that hears bills concerning the insurance industry.”

  “I’d say there was a slight conflict of interest,” J.D. said.

  “That’s what I’m sure Gail wants,” Steve answered.

  “You don’t sound as if you like her.”

  Steve’s eyes meet J.D.’s. “The lady is a piranha. I always suspected she did more than use pretty words to get her way.”

  Luke gave J.D. a meaningful look. She glared at him before turning back to Steve. Steve’s expression asked what the exchange was all about.

  Luke grinned. “J.D.’s been called a piranha a time or two.”

  J.D. felt the rage building inside her. How dare he! Before she could respond, however, he hastened to add, “Nobody’s ever thought you slept with people to get your way. But you have been known to chew people up in court.”

  “Can we get back to Gail?” J.D. asked, her voice curt. “Where’s her office?”

  Steve rattled off the address. It was the same building that housed Hal Weston’s office.

  Luke flipped through the pictures until he got to the men at the restaurant. “Recognize any of them?”

  “That’s Hal Weston and Elliot Reynolds. But I don’t know who the other two men are.”

  Luke gathered up the pictures and handed them to J.D. to put back into her purse. “I guess our next stop is the office of Senator Reynolds.”

  “He’s not in Austin for the session,” Steve informed them. “He had a heart attack last month.”

  “He’s got staff that I can interview.”

  “Don’t count on it, Luke. His daughter—who’s older than Gail—is the office manager. Nothing damaging would come out of that office.”

  “Damn.” Luke sighed in exasperation. “I guess that means we have to go interview the lady piranha.” He stood. “Let me know if you hear any rumors floating around here that might help.”

  “You got it.”

  J.D. said nothing to him as they walked out of the building. The set of her shoulders told him that his comment had offended her. Strangely enough, he was sorry about the crack about the piranha. He grasped her arm and turned her to face him.

  “All right. I admit I was out of line in there. You’re a darn fine lawyer and I don’t like losing cases to you.”

  “I’ve never slept with anyone to get my way.” He could see her trembling with anger. “I’ve paid my dues, busting my butt to be twice as good as any man. And do you know what most men’s response to my success is? That I used sex to achieve it. Ever even hint it again, McGill, and I’ll flatten you so fast, your head will spin.”

  He didn’t respond to the rage vibrating through her. Instead, he keyed in on the hurt. It struck a chord deep inside him. He brushed his finger across her cheek. She froze.

  “You’re right.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed. When she opened them, they were brilliant with unshed tears.

  “C’mon, lady. We’ve still got work to do.”

  She didn’t speak, but her watery smile silently thanked him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. The lady could get to him faster than anyone else ever had. It was scary.

  CHAPTER 8

  Luke’s response effectively burst the bubble of her anger, leaving her disoriented and confused.
The compassion and remorse she saw in his eyes pierced through the protective barrier around her heart, touching her deeply. When he caressed her cheek and his soft words fell on her ears, she had wanted to step into his embrace and allow his warmth to take away the bone-deep chill that hovered about her heart.

  J.D. recoiled from the thought. From her experience, she knew if a woman surrendered to a man, he’d use that power over her, turning her into a doormat. She’d seen it often enough with her father and his two wives. And, of course, there was her own personal experience with her ex-husband.

  “Since Gail’s office is only a block over, why don’t we walk?”

  She stopped and considered Luke’s proposal. The rental car was two blocks down Congress Avenue. It was just as easy to walk to Gail’s office as to hike to the car and drive back. She pulled off her high heels. “I’m ready when you are.”

  “You’ll ruin your stockings that way.”

  She started walking toward the office building. “Oh? What do you know about women’s panty hose?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “More than you think I should.”

  “Well, I’d rather ruin my hose than my feet.”

  He shook his head. “You continue to amaze me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because most of the really smart people I know don’t have a lick of sense. You seem to have both.”

  With each word he uttered, he was burrowing deeper into her heart, and she had no idea how to stop him.

  They were crossing the parking lot of Gail’s building when Luke reached out and stopped her. She sensed his urgency. “Look,” he said, pointing to the couple standing by a black limousine. J.D. got a good look at the woman’s face as she slid into the back seat.

  “That’s Gail Williams.”

  “And the gentleman getting into the limo with her isn’t Elliot Reynolds,” Luke added.

  “Do you know him?”

  Luke shook his head. “No.”

  “Rats.” She set her shoes on the asphalt and slipped them on.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going up to Ms. Williams’s office to see if I can pump the secretary for any information. I thought I’d be less suspicious if I had shoes on. Got any objections?”