THE DEFENDER

by Adrienne Giordano

“Russell!”

  He shifted back, tilted his head and gave her a flat-mouthed look. “Can I answer the question before you start hollering?”

  Sufficiently chastised, Penny sat back. “Sorry.”

  Zac folded his arms and grinned. “This, I’m enjoying.”

  “No kidding,” Emma said.

  But Penny had had enough of them. “Knock it off, you two. Go ahead, Russell.”

  Russ swung his gaze to Zac and Emma, then came back to Penny. “Anyway, we’re looking at every angle. Everything is a possibility.”

  “You’ll keep us updated?”

  “Of course. Until we figure this out, though, don’t go having press conferences on the courthouse steps. Lay low and stay safe. Got it?”

  And—hello, sexy eyes—the power in that dark-chocolate stare set her body to churning again. Normally, she’d say something snarky about being bossed around, but Russ didn’t look in the mood to play. She didn’t know him well enough to know what he was in the mood for, but if the shadows under his eyes were any indication, sleep might be at the top of his list.

  “I’ve got it,” Penny said. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Thank you. We’re all set here, then?”

  She nodded. “You’ll get back to me about that other matter?”

  “As soon as I have something, I’ll call you.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for today, too.”

  Their eyes connected for a few short seconds, that focused and unmistakable recognition of sexual attraction. If Penny would let it happen, Russell Voight could completely unglue her. Which wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, because heaven knew it took a lot for a man to work her up. Part of being an aggressive woman meant finding a man willing to do battle when necessary. And even when not necessary. Call her crazy, but Penny hungered for the pull of a heated argument. Most of the men she’d come across didn’t understand her need for debate or came off as arrogant and unbending.

  Thus, the shrinking pool of male candidates strong enough to survive her continued to be a challenge. One thing about Penny Hennings, good or bad, she knew how to bring a man down.

  Russ smiled at her, just a small quirk of his lips that let her know he knew her mind had gone somewhere other than Elizabeth Brooks. Dirty dog.

  “You are very welcome,” he said. “I’ll call you.”

  Penny cleared her throat. Gah. Quit acting love struck.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Zac said.

  The minute the men left the room, Emma swooped in. “Wow.”

  Play dumb. Penny motioned Emma to the chair Russ had just vacated and the two of them sat. “Wow, what?”

  This earned her a rather obnoxious snort from her dear friend. “Come on. You think I didn’t notice you looking at him like he was a giant pile of white gummy bears?”

  Penny scrunched her face. “Hey, now, don’t say that.”

  “Why?”

  On the list of Penny’s all-time favorite candies, white gummy bears claimed the top spot. She didn’t just love them; she craved them with a ferocious yearning that kept her up at night, dreaming of the quick shot of sweetness hitting her system. No matter how many times she’d sworn them off, they always lured her back, teased her into submitting. When it came to white gummy bears, she was no better than the crack addicts swarming the South Side of Chicago.

  “Because they make me feel weak. I don’t want a man making me feel that way.”

  Emma tilted her head and puckered.

  “Please,” Penny said. “Now you’re psychoanalyzing me? Listen, Freud, it’s nothing deep. I’m just saying I don’t want to feel needy when it comes to men.”

  “Yeah, but you said you don’t want to be weak. You’ve never been weak a day in your life.”

  “Exactly my point.”

  Emma scoffed. “Maybe that’s your problem.”

  Problem? She didn’t have any problems. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I always knew you were a little nuts, but until now, I didn’t realize how deep your level of nuttiness ran.”

  Only Emma could get away with saying that. And worse, rather than being insulted, Penny laughed. What had she ever done without Emma? Truly, it would have been a travesty if this woman hadn’t come into her life.

  “You’re lucky I love you, Emma Sinclair.”

  “I love you, too, which is why I will risk bodily injury and say this to you. Relationships are about partners. One is vulnerable when the other is strong. Then it switches back. It’s about balance. You think your brother doesn’t feel vulnerable sometimes? That guy worries about his job like no other. Makes me crazy, but I also love that about him. And trust me, he’s far from weak.”

  Why were they even discussing this? “I see your point. It doesn’t matter, though. Russ Voight is off-limits. He’s working a case involving a client. And, unlike my pig of a brother, who got involved with you while working your case, I’m not doing it. Uh-uh.”

  Emma laughed. “You know he’s not a pig. You just say that to get him riled.”

  Penny did a fast clap. “I know. It’s such fun.”

  Zac swung into the room. “What’s fun?”

  “Nothing,” they both said.

  He eyeballed them. “You’re talking about me again?”

  “We are,” Penny said.

  For what might be the thousandth time since Zac began seeing Emma, he threw his arms up. He didn’t like his girlfriend talking to his sister about him. Too bad, big brother. “Relax. Is Russ gone?”

  “Yeah. He seems like a good guy. Some of those feds are cocky SOBs.”

  “He’s good. I destroyed him on the stand a few months back and he still talks to me. Heck, he saved my life today. Some of the guys I’ve gone against probably keep a bullet with my name on it.”

  Her brother poked his finger at her. “Exactly why you need to follow Voight’s instructions and lay low.”

  She didn’t want to believe her father had been the target of a shooting. Could someone hate them that much?

  American citizens deserved to have their constitutional rights protected and that was her job. Invariably upon meeting someone, she’d be asked what was known by defense attorneys as the “cocktail party question.” The old “How can you defend them?” and nothing provoked Penny like that blasted question. For her it was about judgment, and implying that being a defense lawyer was somehow less worthy than being a prosecutor. As if she took joy in defending a man accused of murder. In truth, many nights she lost sleep over it.

  Reality was she couldn’t resist the job. Call her a masochist but she loved the unwinnable case. Loved the inevitable problems and the intellectual challenge.

  The war.

  “This may shock you, Zachary, but I will follow his advice. I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid. Still, the idea that Dad was targeted because he defended someone’s rights seems hypocritical. Not that I understand the criminal mind.”

  “Amen to that,” Zac said. He rapped his knuckle on the door. “Get packed up. I’m hungry and I’m tired.”

  “A deadly combination,” Emma deadpanned.

  Zac threw her the king of hairy eyeballs. Oh, boy. Knowing just how crabby her brother could be when his sugar crashed, Penny closed her laptop, unplugged it and shoved it into her messenger bag. “Don’t fight. Please. I’ve had enough conflict for one day. I mean, seriously, it’s not every day someone tries to kill me.”

  Chapter Three

  Russ badged his way into Gerald Hennings’s office, parked in one of the guest chairs and waited for him to get off the phone. It was 10:00 a.m. and the day had already gone to hell. As of 7:43 a.m., after surviving a surgery that would have killed most, the reporter who’d been shot on the courthouse steps was no longer among the living.<
br />
  This development had Russ reprioritizing his caseload just when he’d gotten traction on Heath. He wanted to nail that guy and send him away for a good long time.

  For years, Russ had been chasing guys like Heath, guys who would rob senior citizens and hardworking people of their life’s savings. His own parents had been victimized by a mortgage scammer, and from the day his childhood home had been foreclosed on, Russ let his hurt and anger fuel him on the job. On the days he got sick of the lowlifes, he thought of the morning, at age twelve, he’d stood on the front lawn watching his father turn over the keys to their home. A sight like that didn’t leave a man.

  Ever.

  Hennings set his phone in the cradle and relaxed back in his chair. Fit for a man his age, he was legendary in Chicago for his pristine appearance. Rarely had his expertly cut salt-and-pepper hair been seen out of place. Add to that his custom shirts and flashy suspenders, and reporters all over the city now referred to him as Dapper DL, short for Dapper Defense Lawyer.

  “Good morning, Agent Voight.”

  Russ leaned over the desk and shook his hand. “Morning, sir.”

  “You have an update for me?”

  “I do. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but the reporter involved in the shooting died this morning.”

  “I did hear that. Tragedy. We’ll send our condolences.” He shook his head. “I’ll never understand what drives someone to do this.”

  Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t defend these monsters. That was another conversation, though. Right now he had news and, figuring Gerald Hennings liked his bad news brief and to the point, he dived in. “I’m not at liberty to give you details, but we’ve seen enough evidence to suggest you may have been the target of the shooting yesterday.”

  To the man’s credit, he didn’t react. His face remained neutral. No raised eyebrows, no frown, not even a blink. Russ supposed years of defending scumbags had honed his body-language skills.

  “I see,” he said. “And you’re sure it was me? Not Penny?”

  That, Russ couldn’t say. “We’re not a hundred percent. You and Penny were in close proximity to the shooting and reporters generally aren’t targeted that often. With the location involved, there is likely a bigger issue as opposed to a random shooting.”

  Hennings finally gave him some body language and rolled his bottom lip out. “Something tells me that’s not the only reason you’re here.”

  Smart man. Russ nodded. “We’re arranging protection for you, Penny and Zac.”

  “You think that’s necessary?”

  “We’d rather play it safe while we’re investigating. You can expect more questioning today, and we’re coordinating with the U.S. Marshals to get you protection.”

  If the man had any issues with the plan, he gave no indication of it. Too bad he was a defense lawyer. He’d make a damned fine FBI agent.

  “I appreciate that,” Hennings said. “When can we expect someone? I need to tell Zac. And my daughter.”

  Lucky him. “It’ll be today.”

  “Good.” He propped his elbows on the desk, ran both hands over his perfect, albeit thinning, styled hair, then cracked a smile. “Would it be considered bribing an officer if I paid you a hundred dollars to tell Penny?”

  And damn if he didn’t like this guy. “You’re apprehensive about the protection?”

  “No. I’m apprehensive about telling my stubborn daughter a marshal will be tagging along wherever she goes. You’d better find someone with stamina. She’ll debate everything.”

  Don’t I know it? Then again, an assignment like this, minus the hundred bucks, might be one Russ could cherish. He’d hold this sucker in his heart for the rest of his life.

  “Sir, five months ago, your daughter subjected me to the most brutal cross-examination I have ever endured. She whipped me so hard I’m still bleeding.”

  Hennings’s smile went full-blown. Clearly the man adored his daughter. “I taught her well.”

  “You did. Which I should be ticked at you about, but I’m going to help you out here. You keep your hundred bucks, because after that beating she put me through, I’d love nothing more than to tell her that when it comes to her safety, she’ll have to do exactly what I say. That will be the most fun I’ve had in years.”

  * * *

  PENNY HUSTLED ACROSS the flooded Chicago street barely beating the walk signal and almost getting plastered by a cabbie who’d obviously had too much caffeine.

  Caffeine overload was exactly her intention on this short trip from her office in the adjacent building. Considering sleep had eluded her most of the night, the double-shot latte might do the trick. Being the freak of nature she was, five hours of slumber each night was all she needed. Mostly. Last night she’d been woefully short. Apparently, being the victim of a crazed sniper wasn’t conducive to restful sleep.

  Don’t think about it. She pushed through the revolving door of Erin’s Gourmet Coffee, where the frigid air—a lovely relief from the unseasonably vicious heat—and the aroma of fresh coffee welcomed her. Add Erin’s acclaimed hot scones and Penny went into sensory overload. Come to me, baby.

  She stepped to the back of the four-deep line and glanced around. Not an open table to be had. Just as well. She’d told the receptionist she’d only be a few minutes. No time to dawdle. And since when did she like to dawdle? If this was what a lack of sleep did, she wanted no part of it. Building a great law career meant no breaks when she should be studying case files.

  Her cell phone rang and she slipped it from her jacket pocket. Blocked number. This should be good. Being a defense attorney, blocked numbers always proved somewhat entertaining. Could be a paranoid client. Could be a potential client. Could be a whole host of things that would turn her ho-hum day into one heck of a humdinger.

  She hit the button before the call went to voice mail, then stuck a finger in her ear to silence the echoing conversations of the packed shop. “Penny Hennings,” she said in her tough-as-nails lawyer voice.

  “Ah, the lovely Penny Hennings. I’m surprised you took my call.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t be, since your number is blocked and I don’t know who this is. If you didn’t expect me to pick up, why call?”

  “This is Colin Heath.”

  Penny shoved the phone away and stared at it. Had the thing shifted to animal form? Never before had she received a call from a man one of her clients was about to testify against.

  Suddenly, her father’s voice boomed in her head, advising her to forget her nerves. To approach her subject in that cool, collected way she’d practiced for years and then, when the moment presented itself, to slowly lure her prey in and strike.

  Even if her prey was a murderous madman.

  She put the phone back to her ear. “According to you, this is Colin Heath, but theoretically you could be anyone.”

  “Defense lawyers. Always so suspicious.”

  Comes with the territory, buddy.

  The woman behind her made an effort of clearing her throat. The line had moved, but Penny hadn’t. She turned to the woman. “Sorry.”

  Needing to concentrate, she stepped out of line and walked to an empty corner near the pastry case. “What can I do for you, Mr. Heath?”

  “Oh, my love, call me Colin. After all, I let you live yesterday.”

  A slow burn curled inside her. “What do you mean, you let me live?”

  “I’ve been watching Elizabeth Brooks. She’s talking to you. Advise her to forget my name. Her husband stole from me and he knew the risks that posed.”

  Movement at the door drew her gaze and a dark-haired—and stone-faced—Russ Voight strode in. What the heck? He scanned the crowded shop, spotted her and beelined to her.

  She threw her hand up before he spoke and pointed at the phone. “Mr. Heath, why are
you calling me? If you’re looking for an attorney, obviously I can’t help you.”

  Russ gawked. At any other time, she’d have laughed that the sexy FBI agent’s chiseled features had suddenly gone soft and horrified, but right now she was too freaked to consider it funny.

  “Oh, but you can help,” Heath said. “Tell Elizabeth to keep that lovely mouth of hers shut and I will continue to let you live.”

  What? Penny stood tall. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Explain.”

  “On the courthouse steps. That was my shooter, Ms. Hennings. He’s quite good. In all that chaos, he managed not to hit you or your dear father. Your options are these. You either stop working with Elizabeth Brooks or get her to keep quiet. If you do that, she and that boy of hers will stay alive. I’d hate to see him grow up without at least one parent.”

  The slow burning inside Penny erupted to a full-blown volcano. Needing something to do—other than hunt down Colin Heath and strangle him—she latched on to Russ’s suit sleeve and twisted. Just a vicious grip that made her knuckles pop. To Russ’s credit, he took the assault on his person in stride.

  This crazed lunatic thought he’d use her to threaten a client. Not. Ever.

  Russ swiveled two fingers between her eyes and his. Focus, he mouthed.

  She threw her shoulders back, breathed in and let calm, fierce lawyer Penny take hold. As lawyer Penny, no one could beat her. She pictured Colin Heath in the witness box, waiting for her to decimate him—to shred him.

  Go.

  “Clearly you’re aware that you’re threatening me. I could have you arrested. And it would be the least of your crimes.”

  What? Russ mouthed.

  Penny held her finger up. I got this, fella.

  “But you won’t,” Heath said. “If you did, I’d have you killed. Even from prison I can make it happen. I could do it right now. Or when you leave the coffee shop.”

  He knew where she was. Searing heat shot to her cheeks. Fear? Maybe. Because there was something incredibly weakening about a murderer stalking her.

  Shifting sideways to peer around Russ, she studied each table. In the corner, two men sat in deep conversation. Couldn’t be Heath. The next two tables had been pushed together by a group of moms out for morning coffee with their toddlers. A young guy, maybe twenty, sat at one table, reading a magazine. Too young.