Maceo agreed and drew in a deep, shaky breath. “So, did they tell you how it happened? Why they think it was me?”
Kate looked at her notes. “Janek’s throat was cut; he was almost decapitated. They found the knife … the same knife used to injure Ori. How did he get into the hotel?”
“I have no idea.”
“As far as evidence, they don’t have much that isn’t circumstantial—apart from the knife. They wanted to try and pin Ori’s stabbing on you at first. I know, I know,” she said as Maceo’s face flashed with horror. “Don’t worry, they quickly dropped that idea when numerous people told them that there was no way you would hurt her. They’re tilting at windmills, mostly, but it’s just the knife. They say they have found DNA that doesn’t belong to Ori or Janek on it. Any chance it could be yours?”
Maceo shook his head. “None.”
Kate sighed. “Well, we’ll get some lab work done and see where we go from there. We do have witnesses that say they saw you leaving MOMA around the time of Janek’s death, so there’s that. Look, let’s just see if we can get bail set and go from there.”
She was walking back to her old Volkswagen in the parking lot when she saw him. She recognized him, of course. Who wouldn’t? It just wasn’t every day that a world-famous fashion designer leaned against her car, giving her the kind of look that would have shriveled a meeker person than she. Instead, she got irritated.
“Mr. Duarte, I suggest you step away from my car,” she said as she approached, and to her satisfaction, he did.
“Miss Garcia, I wanted to talk to you.”
“Then call my office and make an appointment, Mr. Duarte,” she said shortly. God, were all of Maceo’s friends as gorgeous as he was? This one was tall and looked like he could bench-press an entire football team. His bearded face was framed by wild, light brown, almost auburn curls, his beard full, and thankfully, not “manscaped.' No, this guy looked as if he should be chopping wood in the Pacific Northwest, not designing clothes.
“Miss Garcia, this will only take a second.”
“Call my office, Mr. Duarte,” she said firmly and opened the driver’s door. Lisander put a hand gently over hers and electricity snapped up her body. He leaned in so that his face was close to hers, but strangely, Kate didn’t feel threatened.
“I will call,” Lisander said softly, “but for now … just tell me how he is.”
His hand felt huge over hers, the warmth of it against her skin. Kate cleared her throat, aware her face was burning.
“Mr. Bartoli is fine. Tired, but that’s understandable.”
Lisander removed his hand, and Kate felt bereft. “Thank you,” he said.
God, that voice … deep, smoky, the heavy accent. Kate nodded sharply and got into her car. She watched as Lisander returned to the waiting taxi cab she hadn’t even noticed was there. Damn. She let out a long breath. It had been a while since anyone had had that effect on her; even, she thought now, guiltily, her longtime boyfriend, Nikos.
She pushed the thought away. What the hell is wrong with you today? First Maceo and now his friend? Are you extra horny for some reason? She chuckled to herself as she drove back into the city. A half hour later, she got her answer as the monthly stomach cramps hit. Of course, she thought, but then felt a strange pull of relief. Not pregnant. Again.
She and Nikos had been together for six years, all through Harvard Law, and now their careers had taken off. So when Nikos had said six months ago that he’d like to have a child, Kate had been surprised both at his request and at her own reaction. A child? Now? Nikos hadn’t pressured her, but told her he would happily be a stay-at-home dad.
“Hell, I’d even carry it for you if that was possible,” he’d joked, and she had laughed.
They talked about it for a couple of months until finally Kate had said, “Let’s not try try. Let’s just stop using the condoms and see what happens.”
Nikos had agreed, but now every month they were on tenterhooks. She picked up her phone now and dialed his number.
“Hey, babe.”
“Hey, you. Well … red sky in the morning.”
“Oh,” she heard Nikos sigh, “Well. Damn.”
“I’m sorry, babe.”
“Not your fault, sugar, just had a feeling this was the month.”
She smiled down the phone. “It will happen, Nikkynoo.”
“Don’t call me that. At least not in public,” he chuckled. “Did you go see your sexy Italian perp?”
“I did, and I did check. He’s still sexy,” she teased, knowing Nikos would see the funny side of it. He did.
“How come all I get is dyspeptic old men with toe fungus, and you get sexy billionaires?” Nikos grumbled, and Kate laughed.
“Because you chose medicine instead of criminal law, sucker.”
She was still giggling when she hung up the phone, but when her boss shuffled down the hallway to see her, she immediately switched into her professional mode.
Gerard Greg nodded at her as he listened. “Okay, well, I can’t suggest a better way, so just keep on what you’re doing. I assume they’ve shown you how to bill hours?”
Kate hid a grin. “About two years ago, Gerry.”
Gerry waved his hand. “Forgive me, Kate. I lose track of time.”
When he’d left her office, Kate reflected again on how far she’d come at such a young age. Of course, her work ethic had driven her there … could she really halt everything for a child? She was only 29. The answer is that I simply don’t know, she thought. I don’t know if I want a new life.
For some reason, her mind flitted back to Lisander Duarte, and she wondered idly what his children would look like, before imagining him naked and fucking her, his machismo a total turn on. Kate wriggled in her chair. Stop that, right now. She sighed and got back to work.
Orianthi Roy had already packed her things by the time Alex turned up at the hospital. She greeted him with a hug, and he laughed as he watched her shoving her clothes into a hold-all.
“Have the doctors actually said you can go?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, then grinned. “No, but they will. The doctor is due here any minute.”
“How’s your wound?”
“Hardly feel it,” she said brightly, “Really, I think people were making a big fuss over nothing.”
“A stab wound isn’t nothing,” Alex said softly, noticing her wince at the word stab.' Ori fixed him with her cool hazel eyes.
“Alex … I want to go see Maceo the minute we get out of here.”
Alex shook his head. “Not going to happen, sweetheart. Maceo does not want you near that prison.”
“Tough noogies,” she said shortly, “I’m going.”
Alex sighed. “Ori, look … Maceo and I talked, and we think the safest thing for you is for me to take you out of state until Maceo is bailed.”
Ori gritted her teeth. “Alex, do I get a say in this?”
“Not really, angel. It’s for your own safety.”
Ori was silent, and Alex could see the conflict in her eyes. Finally, she turned to him. “I will go with you on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I get to see Maceo once before we leave New York.”
Maceo had agreed reluctantly, and Ori would never know how Alex or Maceo’s lawyer had swung it, but they had arranged for Maceo and Ori to have a private room to themselves for a few hours.
As soon as she saw him, she ran into his arms, and his lips found hers. “God, I missed you,” he murmured, and with tears in her eyes, she nodded.
“Let’s not waste time,” she said, her eyes locked onto his, “I want you, now.”
With a growl, Maceo pulled her to him and soon they were shedding their clothes, not caring that the door of the room they were in was locked from the outside.
“I need you inside me,” Ori gasped as Maceo’s cock drilled into her, her legs clamped around his hips.
It was a hard, furious, desperate fuck and
afterward, Maceo stroked his hand slowly, languorously over her soft skin. He touched a fingertip to the butterfly stitches over her small wound. ’Does it hurt?”
“No. It never did. If it hadn’t been for the blood, I doubt if I would have even noticed it. It truly is nothing.” She nestled closer to him as they lay naked, using their clothes as a blanket. Maceo tightened his arms around her.
“We’ll get through this, you know.”
“I know. I’m just scared that they need a scapegoat for Tyson’s death and you’re it.”
“I’m not sorry he is dead.”
“Me neither. Hey,” she grinned up at him, “now I only have one psycho after me. Score.”
“Don’t even joke,” he said, but couldn’t help laughing at her mischievous grin. “In all seriousness, Ori, you will go with Alex, yes? Until I make bail?”
Ori sighed. “Yes, okay. If it’s what you want.”
“It is, mio caro. I hate that you have to see me like this.”
Ori propped herself up on an elbow and looked at him. “Maceo, I know you didn’t do this, but I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had. If I had had the chance to kill that man, well, maybe I would be here instead of you. But I know you didn’t.”
He stroked her face. “Non ci sono abbastanza modi in questo mondo per dire si mostra quanto ti amo.”
Ori smiled. “That’s beautiful; what does it mean?”
Maceo pressed his lips to hers. “There are not enough ways in this world to tell you how much I love you.”
Ori felt tears prickling her eyes. “Ti amo, Maceo. Ti amo.”
She straddled him, her naked body lit by the small window, her hands slipping between his legs to stroke his thickening cock. Maceo smiled lazily at her as she brushed the tip up and down her warm, wet sex before impaling herself slowly onto him, pushing her hips against his.
Maceo stroked her body as she rode him gently, never taking her eyes from his. Soon they were both sweating and groaning, driving each other towards their climax before collapsing into each other’s arms.
“Promise me something,” Ori said, as their time together drew to a close. Maceo kissed her gently.
“Anything, mi amore.”
Ori looked up at him, her eyes serious. “Don’t ever lose faith, will you? In your innocence. In the future. In us.”
Maceo smiled at her. “I promise, and the same goes for you. You and me.”
“You and me,” she said.
It was only later, when Alex was flying her in his private jet up to his house in Vermont, that Ori allowed herself a few tears. She couldn’t help feeling as if she was abandoning Maceo when he needed her the most, but he had been adamant.
“The worst thing I can imagine is something happening to you,” he said, “Alex will keep you safe.”
Ori knew Maceo was aware of the small crush Alex obviously had on Ori, but still trusted his friend to take care of her. Ori too knew she could rely on the big man, and that he would not take advantage of the situation.
How can you be so sure? A small voice inside her piped up, but she batted the thought away and tried to get some sleep.
Benoit Vaux woke to the news of Maceo’s arrest and immediately made plans to fly to New York. He called Seth, who told him about Alex taking care of Ori. “Maceo could really do with the rest of us being there for him,” Seth said in his soft Canadian accent, and Benoit agreed.
But no sooner than he had ended the call, then Alex himself called him. “Benoit … I hate to do this, but have you been seeing someone? A blonde woman called Shiloh Holt?”
Benoit’s heart began to pound. “We saw each other for a while, but she’s in Africa now. Why?”
Alex hesitated. “I just rechecked the website—the one with photos of Viola and Ori. There’s a new photograph, Benoit …”
Benoit looked up the address Alex gave him, and his heart froze. It was a photograph of Shiloh, her blonde hair flowing down her back, walking through the arrivals area of a foreign airport. Underneath, the caption read Nightfall.'
“Jesus,” Benoit hissed, his emotions swirling. There was something else about the image he couldn’t quite get a handle on, but he listened as Alex calmed him down.
“Look, man, unlike the photos of Viola and Ori, she’s not injured in any way, but I thought you should know. She’s on this crazy’s radar now.”
Benoit was silent for a long time. “Who the fuck is doing this? And why not come after the four of us, not the women we love?”
“I’m trying to rack my brains to find out who would do this, who we might have pissed off.”
“I think this goes beyond just pissed off, Alex.”
“Yeah.”
Benoit sighed. “Look, I was going to fly to New York, but now I think I had better go to Africa and make sure Shiloh is safe.”
After he had hung up, he studied the photograph of Shiloh closely. There was something about her demeanor and the way she carried herself.
When it came to him, he pushed back his chair and strode to his office door. “Genevieve, book me a flight to Nairobi—as soon as you can.”
Kate Garcia glanced over at her client as they sat in his bail hearing. The DA on the other side smirked at her; Kate knew him well. She had been at law school with his younger brother. Smug bastards both of them, from a rich family.
“All rise for Judge P. Richards, presiding.”
The judge made his way in and sat down. “I understand the prosecution has something to say at this time?”
Kate glanced over at the DA quickly.She didn’t know what they were playing at. Maceo looked at her, but she shrugged. Your guess is as good as mine.
“Your Honor, we would like to ask the court for a postponement of this bail hearing in light of the new evidence we are just receiving.”
Kate was up. “Objection, Your Honor. What new evidence?”
“That’s for me to ask, Ms. Garcia,” said the judge mildly, then looked back at the DA. “Let’s have it.”
The DA glanced at Maceo quickly. “We feel certain Mr. Bartoli is a flight risk and today we have come into some information that he had already been planning to return to Italy once his bail was set.”
Maceo looked confused and shook his head at Kate. She stood. “Your Honor, my client knows nothing about these plans.”
“So this itinerary and flight plan are nothing?” The DA held up a sheaf of papers, then presented them to the clerk of the court.
Maceo bent his head towards Kate. “I made no such plans. Someone’s framing me.”
“So it would seem,” Kate murmured. “And that gives me pause. I don’t think it would be a bad thing to postpone bail. Something about this is hinky, and I don’t want you vulnerable.”
Maceo nodded. “Understood.”
Kate stood.
“Your Honor, the defense has no objections to the postponement of bail.”
When Maceo had been returned to the prison, he and Kate sat in the interview room, hot but weak coffee in front of them. Kate fixed him with a long stare. “Maceo, someone is trying to frame you for Janek’s death. I want you to tell me everything about yourself; where you were born, who your parents were, where you went to school, were friends with, weren’t friends with. Who you’ve fucked. Everything. Something is rotten here, and I want to know what it is.”
Maceo nodded. “Me too, Kate, me too,” and began to tell her the story of his life.
Lisander waited for Gerard Greg to be available. Greg’s very nervous P.A’s eyes had widened when she saw who was demanding to see her boss. Lisander tried to smile at her but it came out as a grimace, and he saw her flinch just as Gerard Greg opened the door and ushered him into his office.
The man was elderly, Lisander saw, but there was still the spark of great intelligence and wit in his eyes.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Duarte?”
Lisander sat forward. “Mr. Greg, I am here regarding my friend and your client, Maceo Bartoli. I am concerned about his
legal representation.”
“What are your concerns?” The man’s tone was mild, but wariness flashed in his eyes.
Lisander cleared his throat. “Ms. Garcia seems very young to be taking such a big case.”
Gerry smiled. “If that’s your concern, you have nothing to worry about. Kate is one of the best lawyers I’ve ever seen—and I’ve been doing this for nearly fifty years. Don’t let her youth fool you.That one is a killer when it comes down to it. If you’ll pardon the metaphor.”
Lisander wasn’t satisfied, but the older man would not give way, and eventually Lisander stalked out of the office, cursing under his breath.
Kate Garcia was walking into the building, talking on her phone. She saw him, and to Lisander’s amazement, grinned at him. She came to a stop in front of him.
“Yeah, I’m with him now. See you in a few.”
She ended the call, dropping her phone into her bag, and gazed up at him, scrutinizing his face. Lisander suddenly felt guilty.
“Look, I … ”
Kate grabbed his arm. “Come with me.”
She marched him out of the building and down the block, Lisander just going with it. They went to a small bar where Kate ordered two whiskey sours and some chicken wings.
“I don’t eat during the day,” Lisander said, desperate to regain some of the control in this situation. He had to admit, being bossed around by this little firecracker was kind of a turn-on.
Kate scoffed, “They’re not for you, big guy. Get your own.” She took a sip of her drink. “So, you think I’m a little young to help your friend beat a murder rap?”
Ah. Gerard Greg had ratted him out. Lisander took a deep breath in. Honesty was the only way to go. “I do. Which is no reflection on your abilities, Ms. Garcia.”
“Kate. And I’m confident in my ability to defend Maceo. What specifically is your concern?”
She met his gaze with a cool, steady look, and Lisander suddenly wondered if she was this assertive in bed. Her caramel hair fell in waves past her shoulders, and her warm honey-colored skin was smooth and clear. The swell of her breasts under her blouse was intoxicating, and Lisander felt his groin tighten.
The Midnight Club Page 14