Two Years Later

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  “Good. Be curious. And as for what’s wrong? I’m just not good at secrets, even good ones. You know that.”

  “Yes, sweetheart, I do,” he says, taking my hand. “But we aren’t your parents or even mine. We don’t lie and cheat. A surprise isn’t those things.”

  “You just know me so well that the minute this surprise came into the picture, you knew.”

  “That’s not a bad thing.”

  “No. No, it’s not and I know you, too. Go get your ‘must have’ lucky hot dog, and then tell me everything.”

  He stands and pulls me to my feet. “Come with me.”

  I smile and motion to my computer. “I need to guard it.”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  “It’s New York City.” I grab it and stuff it into my briefcase. “You’re a criminal lawyer. You know it wouldn’t be safe.”

  He laughs and laces his fingers with mine, dragging me along with him. “You were brilliant,” I say. “And your opposing counsel was not.”

  “Less is more sometimes,” he says, as we stop in front of the food truck. “We both know that was the idea and it wasn’t a bad strategy.” He orders his hot dog, and without even asking, my bag of nuts, which is all a part of our lucky lunch during trials.

  Once we’re headed back to the bench, I pick up the conversation again. “You made it look like less is more, translated to the prosecution thinking the jury was stupid. They responded well and that’s why we’re on recess. The prosecutor is scrambling.”

  “I’ll reserve judgment until I feel out the courtroom and their case this afternoon.”

  We sit down and he takes a bite of his hot dog. I set my nuts aside. “You aren’t going to eat?” he asks.

  “I’m still feeling really crappy. I think olives are ruined for me for life.”

  “You love olives, so I bet that statement won’t last more than a month.”

  Or nine, I think, the idea of telling him on his birthday really taking root. “How did Richard and Elsa feel about the openings?”

  “The same as you.”

  “And Dana?”

  “She didn’t say much and she asked for a private place to eat lunch alone.”

  “I can’t say I blame her,” I reply. “All those eyes on you are pretty intense when you’re the attorney. When you’re the one on trial it has to be ten times more intense.”

  He finishes off his hot dog with his normal ridiculous speed and somehow still looks sexy doing it.

  “Have you asked her who she thinks leaked that call?”

  “She dropped that bombshell on me right before we opened this morning. She believes her father had her calls recorded, which means that someone close to him could have done it, at least, per her. I still think it was the boyfriend.”

  “Wait,” I say, alarmed. “There could be more calls?”

  “Yes, and while that’s concerning, as I sit here with you, with some space, I ask myself, why, if she knew she was being recorded, would she make those statements to her boyfriend?”

  “Anger? Frustration?”

  “And the prosecution will say those same emotions made her pull the trigger. I hope like hell she has a better answer than that when I ask her in a few minutes.”

  “Maybe she wanted her father to hear? I mean I know that my father is such a bastard, but I can’t stop hungering for his love. Sometimes people act out to get attention.”

  “I’m not sure that makes her look any better.”

  “It makes her look like a victim,” I say.

  “Pushed to the brink,” he counters, scrubbing his jaw and pressing his hands to his legs. “You’ve made me eager to get back and ask her about ten questions.” He leans over and kisses me. “I need to go find some new magic.”

  “You will. You always do.”

  He reaches around and cups my head, kissing me deeply, passionately, before saying, “Yes. I do. You.” His cellphone rings and he grabs it, “Richard,” he says, answering the call. “When?” he asks. “Is he still there?” He disconnects and sticks his phone back in his pocket. “The boyfriend is at the courthouse making a scene because Dana won’t see him.”

  “Interesting,” I say. “She must believe he released the audio of that call.”

  “I still think that’s a big possibility,” Reese says. “I keep going back to the premise of him killing the father, marrying Dana, and becoming a rich man.”

  “I get him getting cold feet,” I say. “I get him being afraid he’ll be convicted but hurting her defeats the entire idea of inheriting her money. It just doesn’t feel right.”

  “Jail scares people. You know that.” He kisses me. “I need to go. Maybe he’ll talk to me, especially in his current state of mind.” He stands. “I’ll call you if I can before I go back into court.” He takes off and I open my computer and start typing in the baby journal, detailing the “birthday promise” and I end with: When I watch you in that courtroom, I am certain our child will be both beautiful and intelligent. I smile, and add, Until next time, Cat, as a play on how I sign my column.

  A sudden sense of being watched has me scanning for the press but all I find is a pregnant woman with long brunette hair in a pink dress, sitting on a bench to my right and eating of all things, a hot dog. Something about her bothers me but she’s not looking at me. I don’t know why I feel odd about her presence. It must be hormones. For now, I focus on the hot dog she is eating and it reminds me of Reese’s lucky lunch, which has me smiling, while the size of the women’s belly, quite round and full, has me wondering how big I will be soon. It’s a little scary and intimidating to think about being responsible for a living being’s development. What if I do it wrong? Reese won’t, I think. He won’t get it wrong.

  I refocus on the journal and add an entry about seeing the pregnant woman and all of my thoughts. I’m about to start working on my column for tomorrow, to the best that I can this early in the day’s events, but I find myself glancing toward the woman to find her gone and for some reason, this bothers me as much as when she was here. I’m losing my mind.

  ***

  Reese

  A secret.

  I walk into the courthouse again, with those two words on my mind. I’d known there was something going on with Cat, but hearing she has a birthday surprise she considers a secret makes sense. She’s huge on trust. Thanks to her father, she’s nursing betrayal issues that I don’t know if we will ever fully defeat, but I’m damn sure going to spend every day of the rest of my life trying.

  The minute I enter the building, Royce Walker greets me. “The boyfriend is in a private room. He wants to talk to you.”

  “Me?” I query, but I don’t expect an answer. “Interesting.”

  “I thought so,” he says, motioning me forward, and as we walk he adds, “We’re looking for a way to connect him to the gun.”

  “I’ll take anyone you can connect that is not my client,” I say.

  “Understood,” he says, and we turn down a hallway to find a guard by a door.

  “He’s all yours,” Royce says, but as I’m about to enter the room, my phone buzzes with a message. I grab my phone to check the message to find a text from Richard: Dana is flipping out. We need you NOW.

  I grimace and glance at the guard. “I need ten minutes.” I look at Royce. “Don’t let him leave.”

  He nods, and I head down the hallway. I’m just about to turn down the hallway that leads to our private rooms when something pulls my attention toward the doors of the courthouse. A pregnant woman in a pink dress catches my eye. She glances in my direction, and I grimace with the sight of a familiar face I really never wanted to see again. What the hell is she doing here?

  I dismiss her out of desire and necessity and head down the hallway toward my client, and the current crisis, on hand. Dana’s freak out.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Reese

  I change my mind about dismissing Debbie Miller on the wal
k toward the conference room where my team waits. She’s crazy and she’s here. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence which means I need to talk to Cat, and quickly. Richard steps into the hallway and pulls the door shut, starting to walk toward me. “Dana is losing her shit. Big time.”

  I grab my phone. “I’ll be right there. I need two minutes.”

  “We don’t have—”

  “I need two minutes. Alone.”

  His lips purse but he nods and heads back to the room. I dial Cat. “How are things?” Cat asks, obviously referencing my rush here to solve what feels like a dozen problems.

  “I need to see you in between talking to Dana and her boyfriend. Can you come to me?”

  “Yes. Of course. I’m almost back to the courthouse now.”

  “I’ll meet you in the hallway.” I disconnect and walk toward Richard, who’s lurking by the conference room door.

  “What do I need to know?” I ask, stopping in front of him.

  “Apparently the boyfriend, Reginald, has been trying to call her and she won’t talk to him. She freaked out that he was here, and started screaming and crying. Now she’s sitting on the floor, in a corner with her knees to her chest.”

  I inhale sharply. “On the floor,” I repeat.

  “Yes. On the floor.”

  “I need the doctor who did her mental health evaluation here now.”

  “Elsa just talked to her. She’s testifying in another case today, in Chicago. She recommended another doctor. Elsa wants to know if you want to get her in here.”

  “Yes, but after hours. I can’t risk a new name and face making this worse while I’m about to walk into court.”

  I step around him and enter the conference room to find Dana now on her feet on the opposite side of the rectangular shaped conference table, hugging herself, her black dress making her look like she’s at her own funeral; her mascara staining her cheeks adding to the effect. “My team is concerned,” I say. “They wanted to call in a doctor.”

  “I don’t need a doctor,” she says tightly. “I’m fine. I melted down, but it’s over.”

  “Why did you freak out?” I ask, moving to stand across from her, my fingers pressed to the cheap wood of the desk.

  “Come on, Reese. Who else but Reginald could have released that audio? He was the one on the call. He must have recorded me.”

  “You said your father recorded you.”

  “I said I suspected it, but I just didn’t want to believe Reginald would do that. Why would he do that?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I don’t know. I just—I don’t know. But it hurts. I thought he was the man I would spend the rest of my life with.”

  “How did he feel about you walking away from the money?”

  “You’ve asked me that,” she says. “I told you. He didn’t want me to walk away from the money.”

  “Could he have killed your father to ensure you inherited?”

  Her lips curl, pressed together like she’s biting back a sob before she pants out a breath. “I don’t want to believe that.”

  “But you’ve considered it.”

  “After that call was released, yes, but then I thought that makes no sense. If he wanted the money, he wouldn’t help them send me to prison, and that call does.”

  “Unless,” I prod, wanting her to go where I already have.

  “Unless he got spooked and was afraid they’d look at him. Unless he wants freedom more than the money. I sure do.”

  “Our team is looking into his activity but we need him to testify for you.”

  “So you need me to play nice with him.”

  “Yes. I do. Record your conversations and once he testifies for you, expect me to destroy him. If he did it, I will make him confess.”

  “If he did it, and then released that call to make it look like I did it, I hope you burn him in hell.”

  “Good, because I will. Now, he’s here. Call him. Tell him I’m coming to talk to him but that you’ll talk to him tonight.”

  She nods. “It’s going to be hard to be civil.”

  “You need to be more than civil. Make him believe you two will live a happily ever after with loads of cash. Motivate him to testify for you, not against you.”

  “Okay,” she agrees hoarsely.

  “I’ve asked this, but I’ll ask again: What else does he have on you?”

  “Nothing. That call was me giving up. I went to my father the next day. I told him I was giving up my inheritance.”

  “That was the day after the call?” I confirm, already aware that she’d tried to disinherit herself.

  “Yes, but he, of course, told me I’d be back and groveling.”

  All facts I’m aware of and not pleased with either. It makes it look like she had a reason to kill him that wasn’t money. And that reason might resonate with a jury as guilt. “Call Reginald. I’m going to a brief meeting and then I’ll talk to him.”

  “What are you going to say?”

  “The truth. That you’re emotional and you need him.” I walk to the door and exit into the hallway where Richard, Elsa, and Royce now wait on me.

  “She’s fine,” I say. “She just believes that Reginald betrayed her and she’s hurting. I’m going to talk to him.” I glance between Richard and Elsa. “She needs to fix her makeup and wear something other than black tomorrow. Funeral attire is all the wrong notes for this case.” My attention moves to Royce. “Anything on Reginald?”

  “Nothing yet, but I wanted to let you know that we have men following him when he leaves.”

  I nod and step around them all, heading toward the end of the hallway as Cat steps into view. I motion her forward and into a private office. “What’s going on?” she asks as I shut us inside.

  “There’s a woman here today, that could be a problem.”

  Her brows furrow. “What woman?”

  “Five years ago a woman I showed fleeting interest in turned into a stalker situation. She was everywhere I went. I slept with the woman twice and she was obsessed with me. It looked to turn nasty and I was about to take further action when she just stopped. She went away.”

  “And she’s here?”

  “Yes. Which probably means nothing because she looks like she’s about six months pregnant. She could be here for something else, but since this was a problem in the past, I wanted you to know and to be careful.”

  “Pregnant,” she breathes out. “In a pink dress?”

  “Yes,” I say, alarmed now. “Why?”

  “She was in the park. She was watching me. I think she was there when we were there together. Or maybe not. I noticed her after you left.”

  “Fuck. Let me grab Royce.” I open the door and step outside to thankfully find Royce walking by. “We need you.”

  He joins us in the office and I update him. “I’m concerned for Cat.”

  “She didn’t try and approach me,” Cat says, “and I really hate that this is happening now, during the trial.”

  “What better time to gain attention,” Royce comments.

  “Where’s the guy the baby belongs to?” Reese says. “I mean she should be focused the hell on him.”

  “If they broke up,” Royce says, “she could be reverting back to a prior obsession. I need a name and all the details you can tell me about her. We’ll do a background check and find out everything about her we can while you’re in court.”

  “She’s an interior designer that remodeled our offices five years ago,” Reese says. “Miller Designs. Her name is Debbie Miller.”

  “How bad did the stalking get?” Royce asks.

  “Gifts on my desk she shouldn’t have been able to get to. Showing up at restaurants where I had meetings. Infesting my favorite coffee shop to the point that I stopped going. I could go on.”

  “Behavior that indicates this isn’t a coincidence or to be dismissed,” Royce says, then turns his attention to Cat. “The fact that s
he was watching you bothers me the most. You need to wait for me, or one of my men, to escort you everywhere right now. Even to the bathroom.”

  Cat nods. “Yes. Okay. What about protecting Reese?”

  “We’ll be with him at all times as well,” Royce assures her before running down a few other safety measures with us and then leaves us alone. I step to Cat and settle my hands on her shoulders. “It’s probably nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing,” she says, her hands settling on my chest. “I’m worried about her trying to shoot you or something.”

  “She’s not going to shoot me.”

  “That stuff happens,” she says. “It happens.” She presses her hands to her stomach. “I’m sick.” She twists away from me and sits down, pressing her hands to her face.

  I kneel beside her. “Sweetheart.”

  She looks up at me, tears in her eyes that are very out of character. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m just—I’m sick and it’s bad timing to be this kind of sick. This isn’t how I wanted this to go for us.”

  “How you wanted what to go?”

  She presses her hand to my cheek. “Go win this case, but damn it, stay alive. I can’t live without you.”

  I kiss her hand. “I’m not going anywhere. Do you need a doctor?”

  “I’m going in the morning.”

  “I’m worried about you, Cat.”

  “Which is exactly what I didn’t want.” She grabs my lapels. “Go win, damn it.”

  I hesitate, but I cup her head and kiss her. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she says, and I force myself to walk to the door, but exiting the room and leaving her behind about kills me.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Reese

  Cat is rattled and my wife doesn’t get rattled often, but something still isn’t right with her. Not that I would expect her to be anything but rattled. I just told her I had a crazy person in my life, that is now potentially in our lives. Which I won’t let happen. Life is too damn good with Cat for me to let anyone ruin that and no one will ever hurt her. I will hurt them first.

  I return to the room where Dana’s boyfriend Reginald is waiting and stop beside the guard. “Anything I need to know?”