Groomed for Murder (Going to the Dogs)
Page 16
“You’re not bald,” Brooke said pulling her friend into her apartment. “I love it, Poe. Makes you look more Goth.”
Her face brightened. “Really? Maybe it isn’t so bad.”
“No. It also makes you look sexier in a darker sort of way.”
“Okay, I’m coming over here more often…holy dog treats, Batman.”
Brooke closed the door. “I know.”
“A bit obsessive, are we?”
“Well, a little.”
“I like it.”
“I needed something to do or I’d go….”
“Batshit insane? I think you might have reached your destination.” Poe dragged her to the sofa, shedding her coat. She reached down and started to move a bag of treats away. “Are these cannolis?”
“Yup. Peanut butter, oats, and eggs. All organic.”
“And black and white cookies. Aww, the dog paw is soooo cute! Ice cream cones, donuts, little hearts. Brooke, these are amazing. Can I have some for the Terrible Two?”
“Sure. Take as much as you want. I have tons. I want to do some little crowns with sayings on them like princess and stud.”
“How about bitch?”
“Oh, that’s so good. I have a plan for pizza, and yappy meals.”
“You are so inventive! So, crazy, tell me what’s going on here.”
“I needed something to take my mind off this whole I-am-a-murderer thing. I’m in the news and the media hounds me like the plague. I can’t go anywhere without them following me. I even donned my Maxine costume to visit Drew at his apartment. So work is out and so is the shelter. Thank God for Harper’s chauffeur. I swear he must have been a wheel man for bank robbers the way he ditches the paparazzi.”
“I know. He is scary. He’s a very big man and looks like he should have an Uzi strapped to his back.”
“With the trial starting next week, Kristen and I are a hot topic in the news.”
“I totally understand, but what about the bridesmaid dresses?”
“I already finished those.”
“I want to see!”
Brooke laughed as Poe zipped out of the living room. She heard the squeal halfway down the hall.
When she got to the bedroom, Poe was stripping. “I take it you’re trying it on.”
“Hell, ya.” She brushed by Brooke and went into her bedroom to the full-length mirror. “I love it, Brooke. It’s so me.”
“It fits you perfectly. Maybe a little tuck in at the waist, but pretty darn close.”
Poe nodded. “I can’t wait until August to wear it.”
After hanging up the dress, they settled back in the living room. “What brings you here?”
“I came by to check on Roscoe.”
“You did? He’s doing great.”
“Except for the dog treat torture.”
“Yeah. Dog treats, dog treats everywhere and not one to eat.”
“Well, I could take some to St. Mark’s. Everyone raves about them and is constantly asking me where they can buy them.”
“Oh, good idea.”
“Also, don’t you have Hot Diggity Dogs clamoring for you to sell them out of their store?”
“Yes. I could do that, too. I guess.”
“I also came to see how you’re doing. Okay, I lied. I came here for purely selfish reasons.”
“What?”
“I’m scared, Brooke. I don’t want you to go to prison. You didn’t do anything to that witch. Things are changing and I don’t like it. I keep wishing we were just those four women back at the dog park talking about men.”
“I know. Everything will work out fine.” She wasn’t as confident as she sounded. She was mostly saying it for Poe’s benefit.
“You mean the law enforcement fairies will magically appear and wave their magic wand and poof you’ll be set free with rainbows and unicorns? Is that the optimistic, goody-two-shoes bullshit you’re trying to feed me?”
“Yes, and you will buy it.”
“I wish life was like a monopoly game and you could just pass go and use your get-out-of-jail-free card.”
“Me, too.
“I have a confession.”
“Oh no.”
“No it’s a good one. I don’t usually fit in with very many people. In fact, most people think I’m weird. So, when I found you guys and it clicked…I don’t want to lose that.”
Brooke hugged Poe hard. “It’s going to be all right. I just know it.”
“I’m supposed to be saying that to you.”
“I have a confession, too.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah, this one I’m not sure you’re going to like. I wasn’t just distracting myself from the trial. I’m in love with Drew.”
“What? That shark lawyer guy? The one who tried to manipulate you to settle out of court so he could selfishly get a partnership he only earned because he manipulated you into settling out of court?”
“Yes, that guy. He hasn’t called me in a week.”
“And now, even after all the stuff he said to you, you’re wondering if he did use you after all?”
“Kinda. I don’t know what to think. He had a terrible fight with his sister the night I went over to see him. I don’t want to be paranoid, but I think it had something to do with me. He tried to play it off, but I got the feeling it was more intense than he was letting on.”
“‘Love is merely a madness, and I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do.’”
“Ah, Shakespeare.”
“Yeah, that’s a good one. All I can say is your Drew is good at skewing the truth, Brooke. He is a lawyer. But, I saw the way he looked at you the night you brought Roscoe in. The only reason I warned you against him had more to do with the lawsuit business than it really did with him.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“He looked like he would have done anything for you that night. Who am I to judge him? I don’t know what he’s thinking now, but what was in his eyes then? Pure fairy magic. I might spontaneously combust for saying this, but I cannot imagine anyone who could meet you and not fall in love.”
“Be careful,” Brooke said with a wry grin. “You might burn your tongue.”
Later after Poe left loaded up with her dog treat concoctions, and a pithy, bone appétit, Brooke stood at her window. The sky was painted in rich color. The eastern horizon was a deep, luxurious purple that gave way to azure that faded into a smoky white that grew deeper and deeper orange to the west, where the sun was a huge ball of flame.
Before her the city spread out, the constant movement part of its lifeblood. There needed to be some kind of balance.
There was a time in her life when she wouldn’t even have noticed the sky or taken a moment to discover the beauty. She had been so busy seeing to other people’s needs instead of her own.
Brooke pressed her hand to her mouth, the feel of his lips but a memory. She wrapped her arms around herself, tensed against the emotions that assaulted her. She pulled in on herself, not hearing the street noise, not seeing the faces of the people below.
Love is merely a madness, and I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do.
All she heard was her pulse roaring in her ears. All she saw were Drew’s deep, intense eyes.
Chapter Twelve
He stood outside her apartment building, his hands in his pockets. He was going to be at least twenty minutes late getting back from his lunch hour, and he couldn’t seem to care. Hell, this week was the only time he’d ever taken a lunch hour.
He wasn’t sure why he didn’t go in. Who was he kidding? He knew why. His sister’s words had crippled him more than any realization on his own part could have.
The reporters outside her building slavered like wolves that had spotted a lame caribou. Circling and circling until they moved in for the kill. He wanted to be there for her. He wanted it more than his next breath. But he was smart to keep his distance.
He’d already done enough damage.r />
He hailed a cab and got in, giving the driver the firm’s address. Park Avenue. That address had once impressed him. As the cab pulled up to the brick and glass architectural marvel, he realized that the building he once looked up at, first with awe, then with a smug I’ve-made-it feeling, now seemed unremarkable and dull.
Inside he took the elevator up to the twelfth floor. He stopped to grab his messages from Cindy the receptionist.
All the case files he’d been working on were neatly lined up on his desk. The wrongful death suit against Brooke sat on top of them all. He hadn’t eaten one bite of the muffins she made him. He brought them to work instead, and they’d been devoured in an hour.
He was at the tail end of some of his open cases and just beginning new ones. The law firm was broken up into four practices: corporate, litigation, tax, and trusts and estates. His specialty was corporate law, specifically mergers and acquisitions.
He couldn’t seem to open any files as he sat there staring at that wrongful death suit. Brooke wasn’t guilty, and he’d only taken the case to protect her from anyone else taking it over. But now he had doubts about his motivation. He didn’t like to think he was the person his sister said he was, but had he taken the case to preserve his job? The fact he wasn’t sure gnawed at him.
His phone rang, but it was three rings before he answered it. Scooping it up, he tucked the receiver between his ear and shoulder. “Hudson.”
“My office pronto and bring the wrongful death file against Brooke Palmer.”
Adrenaline spilled into his system, his protective instincts kicked in as fast as it took him to inhale and exhale. There was a time when a call from Roger would have him hopping to do his bidding. This time, he just wanted to ignore the man. And to think, only a month ago he was on the fast track to make partner. All he had to do was destroy an innocent woman.
“On my way.” The wooden sound to his voice reached all the way to his heart.
As Drew approached Wright-Davis’s assistant, she nodded him through. Roger was at his desk, and Drew noticed he wasn’t alone. Kevin Jensen was already seated in one of the chairs.
“You rang,” Drew said as he stood in front of the desk, ignoring both the rich mahogany leather arm chair and Roger’s other lapdog.
Roger’s lips tightened at Drew’s insolent tone.
When he met his boss’s eyes, his demeanor softened a bit. He could see the toll Kristen’s death had taken on him, and for that alone he would cut him some slack. Because now. Now he understood what it was to love a woman.
“How is that case against Brooke Palmer progressing?”
“It’s coming along.”
“Really?” The paper came flying across Roger’s desk and landed heavily at Drew’s feet. Kevin sat up straighter, caught off-guard by the acid in Roger’s tone, but still looking like he’d just won the lottery.
Drew looked down. On the front page of the New York Times he recognized the façade of his building. Captured for all to see was the stark picture of himself brushing back Brooke’s hair. His eyes looked shell shocked and haunted. His stomach writhed and he averted his eyes.
“Are you involved with that woman?”
“Yes.”
“Jensen, take the file and follow through on the suit.”
“Yes, sir.”
Without taking his eyes off Drew, Roger yelled, “Now!” His face mottled red.
Kevin cut Drew a triumphant smirk as he snatched the file off Roger’s desk and exited the office. The sound of the door closing like a death knell.
Roger sat back, deceptively calm.
“After all I have done for you. You stab me in the back.”
“She didn’t kill Kristen.”
He slammed his hand down on the desk. “Like hell she didn’t. She was at my Hampton home at the same time Kristen died. She took my wife from me, and she’ll pay, one way or the other.”
“She didn’t kill her. I made you a lot of money Roger. You pitted Kevin and me against each other like we’re your personal gladiators. You get off on the power. I didn’t say anything about that fucking, ridiculous lawsuit you wanted me to handle. But Brooke wouldn’t settle out of court. Do you want to know why?”
“I don’t give a damn.”
“That’s too bad because I’m going to tell you. Kristen’s terms forced Brooke to fire one of her employees.”
“The woman screwed up Mimi’s cut. She deserved to be fired.”
“Because Brooke cared more about this young woman, divorced with two children, than she did about her reputation, or about her business that she had poured her energy and money into for years, I had to get inventive. I used my charm, so damn confident she would fold like a table at a church benefit. But, you know what? My grand plan backfired in my face. I got to know her and, without speaking ill of the dead, I took her side.”
With a derisive laugh, Roger said, “You’re going all noble on me? Come on, Drew. You’ve got that expensive Park Avenue apartment, only doors down from this firm. A sleek Mercedes in your parking space. We both know that space also costs you a hefty sum. You wear thousand -dollar suits and eat at five-star restaurants. You’re not going to give all that up for a piece of ass. Doesn’t your sister have a wedding in August? At the Plaza? She’s also opening up an art gallery after she graduates from college if the talk I’ve heard is correct. Be smart. Go back to your job at Acquisitions and Mergers and accept the fact it’s where you’re going to stay. You try to leave this firm and I’ll blackball you. We both know you don’t have to swallow your pride, because you have none. I’m sure your father and mother are turning over in their graves. You don’t have the courage to change.”
Drew exploded across the few feet that separated them. He swung Roger’s chair around and leaned in. “You think I don’t have any alternatives? That this is the only game in town? I’d rather dig ditches than stay here one more day.” He grabbed Roger by his tie. “And Brooke Palmer…don’t you ever say she is nothing but a piece of ass again, or I’ll push those words so far down your throat, you’ll choke on them.”
“I’ll ruin you,” he yelled at Drew as he reached Roger’s office door.
He took a deep breath, and bowed his head. “You don’t have to. I ruined myself.”
“You’ll be sorry.”
“I believe those were the words Kristen said to Brooke. Take heed, Roger. Karma is a bitch.”
He didn’t even bother to clean out his office. There was nothing, absolutely nothing in it that meant anything to him. He didn’t even have a picture of his sister or his parents.
Outside on the street, he hailed a cab and gave him Brooke’s address.
He threw the money at the cabbie and took his anger and shame out on the reporters who milled out in front of her building. One of them recognized him from the Times photo and started snapping away, the flashes multiplying as the rest followed suit like lemmings until he dashed inside.
Disgusted, he bypassed the elevator and took two steps at a time up to Brooke’s apartment.
He was breathing hard when he banged on her door. When she opened it, he stepped forward and took her mouth, suddenly for the first time in a week feeling whole again.
She shoved him back, her eyes all stormy and snapping with anger. She’d never looked more beautiful. Then, with a soft moan, she grabbed the lapels of his suit and dragged him back for another long, sultry kiss.
“You have a lot of nerve,” she whispered against his mouth.
“Where you’re concerned, I have no control.”
“Is it bad that I think it’s romantic?”
“Yes.” Then he got a load of her apartment. “Holy crap, that’s a shit ton of dog treats.”
Roscoe trotted up to Drew with a woof. “Hello, buddy. I missed you, too.” The bulldog’s deep brown eyes said, Yeah, and she won’t give me any. She’s mean.
“I need to keep busy,” she said.
“Can’t Roscoe have at least one?”
“
Not until his usual time.”
Drew spread his hands. “I tried, buddy.”
“Stop talking to the dog. I need you to help me haul these down the service elevator, so we can load up Harper’s limo and get them all to Hot Diggity Dogs.”
“Wait. I came over here to talk to you about something important.”
“Can’t it wait? There’s a small window of opportunity and Harper’s commando chauffeur is already downstairs with the car running.”
“Commando chauffeur?”
“You’ll see what I mean when we get down there. Now start hauling, mister. I need all these surfaces, so I can make more dog treats tomorrow.”
He looked at Roscoe. “I think she means business?”
“Don’t back sass me. Now get going,” she said, slapping him on his backside. “I’m going to make sure the coast is clear.”
It was a frantic fifteen minutes toting the bags of treats down the service elevator and loading them up into the sleek black limo. They were spotted by one of the reporters and that sparked a chase that lasted for blocks, but the driver of the limo was like a race car driver/stunt man as he took some of the streets in Manhattan like a…commando.
Brooke nudged him with her elbow as they pulled up in front of Hot Diggity Dogs. “I told you he was amazing.”
Drew watched as the man unfolded out of the car and towered over them while he politely opened the door.
It was another fifteen minutes while the overjoyed couple who ran Hot Diggity Dogs to exclaim and fawn over Brooke and the stash of treats. They fondled the little cards she’d made, marveling at the snooty dog logo and the name, Bone Appétit. They even had enough time to hit on him again.
Finally they were back in the limo and headed to Brooke’s apartment.
“I’m so sick of being holed up in that damn apartment.”
The limo’s phone rang and Brooke answered. “Hello, Harper. Yes, the Great Hot Diggity Dogs Caper was a smashing success. I just wish I didn’t have to go back to my apartment. Why?” she said, cutting a look towards the driver.
Brooke rapped on the glass and pointed at the phone. He picked up, spoke for a few minutes then hung up.
Brooke put the receiver to her ear again. “What did you tell him? Someplace special? Harper…what about Roscoe? Yes, of course, Poe will take care of him. But…Drew’s here, too.”