Shielded In The Shadows (Where Secrets Are Safe Book 17)

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Of course she didn’t need to see them. She didn’t need to do his job with him. She wasn’t that much of a control freak. Jayden hadn’t said if any of the times Bill had been in Santa Raquel coincided with times she’d given him, but assumed not, since he wasn’t sending up red flags. And she appreciated his diligence in following up.

  Because if any of those occurrences had been during critical times, Bill could easily have left his phone someplace, gone to Suzie’s, and gone back to get his phone. Maybe that type of thinking was paranoid, but in her line of work, she had to be that way.

  She spent her days unraveling all of the ways people managed to do evil things to each other, or to innocent victims. There were no lengths, apparently, that some wouldn’t go to...

  So yeah, maybe she was a bit hardened by it all. And a bit paranoid? She’d been certain, when she’d first turned into the parking garage at work, that she’d seen in her rearview mirror the same truck from the night before come from around a corner and pass by. The stress of Bill on the loose, of Suzie not being in protective custody, was getting to her.

  Maybe she needed to be a bit more like Jayden, looking for the good in people instead of always assuming the worst.

  Maybe that’s why he’d come into her life right then, while she was taking steps to bring a baby into her world. To remind her to see the good.

  No way a child should grow up seeing only the bad. Expecting the bad.

  Like she did.

  And what more perfect way to make certain that she didn’t make anything more of the fling with Jayden than to take steps to conceive a child on her own? She was remaining practical. Not even thinking about changing her life goals for him—or including him in them. If she got to the point of telling him her plans, and it scared him off, all the better.

  Staring at her computer screen shortly after leaving her message for Jayden, she sat completely still. Shocked where her thoughts had led her.

  She did expect the worst. Not just from the defendants she tried, but from everyone.

  When had she become so hardened, bordering on bitter when it came to humanity?

  She used to have so much fun. Used to love meeting new people because of the new experiences they’d bring to her life.

  Certainly all the stuff with Drake had soured her. How could it not? But she’d thought, when she’d tried her second live-in relationship, that she’d gotten beyond that.

  Wow.

  Not the kind of home she wanted to provide for her baby.

  So she had some thinking to do. Some self-watching. From that moment on she’d be more aware, make conscious attempts to find good in every situation.

  Her resolve lasted through lunch. And two cases in court. She prided herself on how well she was doing as she came from a successful plea agreement, applauding the defendant for taking accountability for her actions and wanting to make amends.

  And then she went to Luke Lincoln’s arraignment. She’d expected the proceeding to merely be a formality. She’d gone armed with her recorded copy of Jayden’s testimony, which she’d also printed to give to the judge. The arraignment was for the gun violation charge for which he’d been arrested. The defendant was to be held without bail, while awaiting his hearing before the parole board. They would likely send him back to prison to serve out the remainder of his original sentence. She could have handled the case during her first year of law school. It was that clear-cut.

  Except that not only did Luke Lincoln have an attorney, he had an überaggressive one—one who sought to convince the judge that Luke had been unaware of the gun at the residence. The home didn’t belong to him. He was only staying there until he found a place he could afford, as had been approved by the system prior to his release.

  Not only was the gun not his, he hadn’t known it was there, or he’d have called Officer Powell immediately and made arrangements to be somewhere else. His attorney was asking, on Luke’s behalf, that the charges be dropped and that Luke be released, at least until the parole board hearing.

  Emma objected, of course, vehemently. And asked the court to listen to Officer Powell’s interview with her.

  When the defense had no objection, the judge allowed her to play the recording. Watching the judge’s face, Emma relaxed again, confident that, in spite of the little glitch she hadn’t anticipated, the hearing would end with the expected result.

  It didn’t. At all.

  In spite of the risk Jayden had taken, the good work he’d done.

  And therein ended Emma’s temporary ability to find the good in every situation.

  * * *

  Jayden was at home, typing up reports from his visits that day, when his cell rang with a call from Emma.

  He picked up, ready for her. She’d had her hearing with Luke. Though the results were a no-brainer, he’d expected her to call, just to confirm. And had steaks thawing in the kitchen for the invitation he planned to issue.

  Maybe they’d finally sleep together that night. If they gave his ribs another night or two to heal, that was fine. If not, he’d be just as “feeling good,” as she’d ever need him to be.

  “The judge dismissed the charges.”

  In his recliner, with his laptop across his thighs and a grape energy drink on the table beside him, Jayden wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

  “Come again?”

  “Luke Lincoln. The judge dismissed the charges. Obviously, you haven’t had a call yet. He’s still in jail on the parole violation and chances are he’ll be back on your list soon.”

  Slamming down the footrest, he dropped his laptop on the seat and stood. He’d changed into sweats and a T-shirt when he got home—only until he knew for sure she’d be joining him for dinner—and paced barefoot to the kitchen.

  “What the hell! What happened?”

  “He’s got some high-dollar attorney who pulled out every obscure case on the books to substantiate his claim that since Luke neither owned nor was aware of the weapon on the premises, all charges against him should be dropped.”

  “What the hell!” He was repeating himself. He had no other words. He didn’t blame her, at all, but...what the hell!

  “I found the gun in his room, stuffed in his pillowcase. I took pictures before I left the scene. They’re time stamped.”

  “I know. The arresting officers took pictures, too. But Luke claims that he doesn’t sleep in the bed. That he sleeps on the couch. He says the room is too small, reminds him of his cell. And that the bed is too big. He’s more comfortable on the couch.”

  “It’s still his room. His pillow. The damned pillowcases even matched—the one on the couch and the one on the bed.”

  “So you saw the one on the couch?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And the blanket?”

  “Yeah, there was a blanket wadded up on the couch. Looked like he’d been taking a nap shortly before or when I got there...” He stopped. His words. And his tracks. Damn. He’d forgotten to tell Emma about the pillow and blanket on the couch—and had thus tainted her case.

  Chapter 10

  “I didn’t tell you about the pillow and blanket on the couch.” Jayden resumed pacing, silently cursing himself. “I didn’t find them relevant.”

  “No one else did, either, except his attorney. She claims that Luke only uses that room to keep his clothes. He’s never slept in that bed or touched that pillow. There were no fingerprints on the gun, or on the pillowcase, other than yours...”

  “I did not plant that gun there.”

  “No one’s claiming you did. They weren’t going to take a defense that would put the burden of proof on them. Or put your word against theirs. They say the gun belongs to Luke’s sister’s boyfriend, according to the story they’re all sticking to. He wanted it in the house for protection from Luke. Just in case.”

  “That’s bull. I
talked to him during the prerelease home inspection interview. He keeps his gun in his vehicle, which he keeps locked at all times, and said he’d park on the street until Luke found a place of his own. And it’s a Beretta. I found a Glock 9.”

  “The Glock was unregistered, and the story is the boyfriend bought it off the street when he knew Luke was coming to stay with his sister. For her to use if she needed it.”

  “So the sister knew it was in the pillow.”

  “That’s the story. And that, because Luke had no knowledge it was there, he can’t be held accountable to it. I had a chance to question both the sister and her boyfriend and their stories seemed too practiced to me, but the judge bought them. Luke’s out. At least until the parole board has a hearing.”

  That Jayden would attend. If they still moved forward on it. The judge had thrown out the gun violation charges. There would still be a parole hearing. Luke had still been on premises with a gun. But with the court’s ruling, there was little likelihood that the board would revoke parole. Feeling like he’d let Emma down didn’t set well with him, but what bothered him a whole lot more was Luke’s wife and daughter being in danger again.

  The same instinct that told him Bill Heber was not hurting his wife was yelling loud and clear that Luke would do that to his family, the first chance he got.

  “The preliminary is Monday,” he told her.

  “I’ve already called up north, letting them know that he might be back out. His wife and daughter will be at the shelter until after the preliminary hearing on Monday anyway.”

  “And after that?”

  She sighed. He felt it clear to his bones. Somedays were harder than others to find the energy to keep fighting the fight.

  More so for Emma than for him, he imagined. Every probation officer he knew was on the same side. But for Emma...she fought her own peers every single time she stepped into court.

  “Did you know the attorney?” he asked.

  “No. She was someone from LA.”

  “I wasn’t aware Luke had the money to hire an attorney from anywhere...”

  “Apparently she knows his sister. Took the case on, gratis.”

  “You think they’re all three lying to her, too?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past them. The sister was a particularly good witness.”

  A schoolteacher with impeccable credit and a no-nonsense attitude, she’d impressed Jayden, too, during the preliminary home visit, which was why he’d allowed Luke to live with her. But if she’d lie for him...kind of a wrench in the gut.

  “You still at the office?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You want to come by for dinner? I laid out steaks and am pretty decent at the grill.”

  “Only if I can bring the wine.”

  He hadn’t had wine...ever. Unless he had to. Back when he’d been a drinking man, he’d regarded wine as being for weaklings. Beer, he’d taken down in gallons. Whiskey. Tequila. Vodka. Rum. He could take them all, in straight shots, one after another.

  Made no sense to him that he hadn’t become an alcoholic, developed some kind of addiction to the stuff. When he thought about how much he could consume, how hard he’d partied...

  “You can bring whatever you want,” he told her. He had his six-pack.

  Or maybe he’d sip on a little wine. If it would make her feel good.

  * * *

  Emma wasn’t going to get to know him much better. She couldn’t. If she did, she’d start to care, to take on his concerns and go into problem-solving mode. It was her way. She knew it.

  No, they were going to be colleagues who respected each other, and who were going to deal with the lust that had sprung up between them.

  Tingling with anticipation, Emma took a good six or seven minutes just trying to choose the wine. Did he like red or white? She wasn’t a big drinker, usually just chose a semidry white wine because it was mostly unassuming.

  But tonight...she wanted something bold. Daring. Maybe a little dangerous.

  She’d had a really bad afternoon at work and wanted to forget it for a few minutes. To put it out of her mind. Just long enough to regroup and go back to believing she made a difference.

  The only way she knew how to get that necessary step away was to let her darker side out. On a leash, of course, but to let her run ahead a couple of steps, to lead her down the block.

  As long as she chose the block, they’d be fine.

  “‘Aphrodite’s Touch,’” Jayden read, taking the bottle she handed him at his front door. His house was smallish, in a nice neighborhood, non-gated, but well landscaped. Clean. Fairly close to the beach.

  “It’s from our local winery, run by Tanner Malone,” she explained, though she didn’t say it was described in the Malone winery catalog as a step out for a woman needing more than a good dinner. “He grows a variety of the Aphrodite grape,” she continued, fighting self-consciousness. Where was Ms. Shadow when she needed her?

  She’d paid for the damned wine and then gone into hiding. What the hell?

  “Aphrodite, the goddess of sex, love and beauty.” Jayden’s voice was laced with...something that made her tingle. And yeah, leave it to him to know about Greek mythology.

  “I like Malone Wines.” She tried to play it all off with nonchalance.

  “This is one of your favorites, then?” He’d carried it into the kitchen. Already had a corkscrew in the top—with two wineglasses on the counter behind him.

  “I’ve...um...actually never had it.” She couldn’t lie to him. Her shadow side might have been able to, but Emma would have stopped her. “I usually just drink his Riesling, when I drink wine at all.”

  “You prefer something harder?” he asked, a tiny grin on his lips as he poured.

  “Nope. Just wine.” So now he knew. She was a lightweight when it came to alcohol. If he didn’t like it...if he was a heavy drinker...didn’t really matter. They weren’t starting anything that was meant to last.

  Turning to her, he handed her a glass. Held his up to hers, looking fresh and way too hot in his jeans and button-down shirt—with at least three buttons undone.

  Gaze fixed on his chest hair, suddenly nervous, she willed Ms. Shadow to get her ass up out of wherever she went when she was banned, and held her glass while he clinked his against it.

  “To what’s to come,” he said.

  She’d have felt better with a simple “Cheers,” but took a sip. Saw the steaks prepared and waiting to go out to the grill. Wanted to see his backyard and so she walked over and looked, feeling...drained from her long day. So...yesterday in her light brown skirt that hugged her thighs nicely but was way more businesslike than sexual. The off-white silk blouse and brown pumps she wore with it—ditto.

  She’d dressed for court, not seduction. And now that she thought about it, wasn’t even positive what underwear she’d put on that morning. Could she hope it had been anything with lace?

  “You want to come out and sit with me while I grill?” he asked. It was July, but Santa Raquel didn’t generally swelter. They were a seaside town with enough breeze to keep things moderately comfortable.

  Feeling like she’d been given a huge reprieve, Emma followed him outside, finding his cute ass about as nice as anything she’d seen that day.

  * * *

  Jayden figured, about a second after Emma had handed him the wine she’d brought, that he wouldn’t be getting any that night. Sex, that was.

  And quickly rephrased the thought in his mind. He wouldn’t be giving any. The gorgeous blonde, with her curly hair, looked tired, about as ready to fly as an ant.

  “You had a rough one,” he said as pulled out a seat for her at the pagoda table on his way to the grill.

  “When you get your thrills from work, days like today really suck.”

  He might have thought she was leading him
to more...thrills...personal ones, but the way she sat there, staring out, sipping her wine, surveying his yard, not meeting his gaze, told him differently.

  “Luke’s getting to you.”

  “And Bill Heber,” she said. “I couldn’t get the man the last time, couldn’t protect Suzie, and it looks like he’s going to do it to me again.”

  “Unless he didn’t do it.” It bothered him that she didn’t seem to give that option any consideration. For Bill’s sake, of course, but more for Suzie’s at this point. If they didn’t find the abuser, she was likely going to be hurt again.

  “He did it.” She met his gaze then. “I know he did it. I just have to outsmart him. And believe me, I will.” She sipped.

  He admired her bravado. The attitude it took to fight the kinds of fights she fought every single day.

  Any chink at all could lose her this case. And police officers relied on their prosecutors. It was a heavy burden she bore.

  “You aren’t drinking your wine.” She was looking at him now. “You don’t like it? I’m sorry, I should have asked what you preferred...”

  He took a sip of wine. Found it...not bad. Not bad at all.

  “I’m more of a beer man,” he told her. “But this is good.”

  “It’s not going to hurt my feelings if you drink a beer.”

  He shrugged.

  “Seriously,” she said. And then, “Or are you out? I can go get some...”

  Her desire to please was genuine and he realized how much he really just liked the woman. “I’ve got a six-pack in the fridge,” he told her. “I’m happy with this.”

  He was just plain happier having her around.

  * * *

  Sitting in Jayden’s smallish, but nicely manicured backyard, Emma finally started to relax. The wine tasted good. The steaks cooking on the grill smelled good. And the man...