The Hot Lawyer (A Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #4)

by Alexa Davis

  "No, she has no idea," he said. "Yeah, I think I can get what I need from her. No, I don't think she has any idea that we're onto her. Uh huh, I'll take care of that this afternoon. Okay, now stop calling me, you're gonna get us both in trouble. Okay, bye."

  I stepped back out into the hall and pulled the door partially shut before I tapped on it again and called Roger's name.

  "Hey Brooke, c'mon in and have a seat," he said in his surfer dude tone. There was something unsettling about having heard him talking in such straightforward terms to the person on the phone and then switching back to his laid back voice to talk with me. Somehow, it felt like it should have been the other way around.

  "Got anything on the Malone case, Roger?" I asked as I watched him closely.

  "Yeah, actually. I'm going to head out to the marina this afternoon and check out the boat," he said as he shuffled papers around on his desk. "I think one of the dock managers saw Lydia out there alive a few days before she turned up in the water, so I want to get his statement before he forgets everything."

  "Good thinking," I said nodding. I wanted to ask Roger about the fax, but my intuition told me that I should wait until Jordie arrived and then discuss it with him first. "Anything else?"

  "No, why? Should I have something else?" he asked as he looked up from his desk and smiled.

  "Nope, I guess not," I said and turned to go. "Hey, how's the girlfriend? I forgot to ask in all the excitement."

  "Eh, she's yesterday's news," he said waving me off. "You were right. It was another false hope."

  "I'm sorry, Roger," I said, feeling genuinely sad for him. "Hey, you know that wanting to be in love isn't a false hope. It's just thinking that you can be in love with everyone that is."

  "Yeah, I'm starting to realize that," he said with a wry grin. "But thanks."

  "No problem," I said as I turned and left his office. I walked back to mine wondering what on earth was going on with Roger and why he was hiding information about the case. I looked at the stack of legal documents from Banks and Associates on my desk and vowed to get the truth out of Jordie when he finally arrived.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Dax

  By the time Javi had revived the club goers in the back room, the sun was high in the sky and I was in desperate need of coffee and some breakfast. I wanted to see Brooke. I dialed her number and was surprised when she actually picked up.

  "What's up, Malone?" she said in a rushed tone.

  "Just needed some breakfast after a rough morning and was wondering if you might join me," I said casually.

  "As legal counsel or something else?" she asked in the direct way that made me very aware of the fact that she'd started something that we weren't going to be able to finish over breakfast.

  "Legal counsel, of course," I said as I rolled my eyes and grinned.

  "Don't roll your eyes when you say that," she shot back. "I can hear it."

  "Sheesh, you are one tough cookie," I said.

  "You seem to keep forgetting that it's my job to keep you from being sent to prison for a murder you didn't commit," she said dryly. "I need to be tough."

  "Of course you do," I replied. "Breakfast?"

  "Where and when?"

  "Meet me at the LID in twenty minutes," I said before adding, "I've got information that might help the case."

  "See you in a bit," she said and disconnected. I stood there staring at my phone shaking my head. Brooke Raines was something else.

  When she walked into the diner twenty minutes later, I grinned as I saw that she was still wearing the clothes I'd removed from her body a few hours before.

  "Stop looking at me like that," she ordered as she slid into the booth and picked up a menu.

  "I ordered you coffee," I said as the server put the steaming hot mug in front of her and asked if we were ready to order. Brooke nodded and proceeded to order and I added mine to it. "Sheesh, order the left half of the menu why don't you?

  "Very funny, I'm hungry," she said as she sipped her coffee carefully. "In case you forgot, last night was a busy night."

  "Oh, I remember, all right," I said as I eyed her appreciatively.

  "What do you have for me?" she asked, brushing me off in favor of maintaining a professional distance. I told her about the situation at the club and what had happened, except that I omitted Javi and the club goers in the back room. "So, don't you have people drinking too much on a regular basis? It doesn't sound like much of an emergency to me."

  I looked at her and realized that this was the moment when I either told her the truth or I hid everything. If I hid things, I was most likely going to go down for Lydia's murder and the thought of never seeing Brooke again, never holding her against me or doing things that made her moan with pleasure, well, that was a little more than I could take. So I took a deep breath and began speaking.

  It took me almost an hour to tell Brooke everything, and to her credit, she listened patiently and asked questions when she didn't understand the scope of something. I told her the history of my organization and how the club was the cover for our other business, while also carefully explaining the background and scope of it. When I finished, I looked at her and waited for her to speak.

  "Okay, I'm glad you told me this," she said as she signaled the server for more coffee. "I'm not sure how we're going to deal with it in the case because it puts a whole new spin on the reasons why you might have wanted Lydia dead. But I got some new information this morning and I think maybe I might have a lead on who actually committed the murder."

  "Oh? What's that?" I asked wondering what the cops had come up with now.

  "This is a copy of the message that came into the office fax this morning sometime between eight and eight fifteen," she said as she handed me a sheet of paper with three drawings on it and the words “You're next” underneath the drawings.

  I looked at Brooke and then back down at the drawings before I pulled out my wallet and threw a wad of cash on the table and stood up. I looked down at her as I felt the rage rising in my chest and said, "I will take care of this." Then, without saying another word, I turned and marched out of the diner and back to the club.

  No one was going to threaten Brooke. Not if I had anything to say about it.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Brooke

  I couldn't shake the feeling that Dax knew who the fax had come from, and that he was going to do something dangerous in retaliation. He hadn't said anything specific, but I just had a gut feeling. And, watching him walk out the door of the diner made me feel both worried and aroused. I couldn't help but admire his muscular body and remember the things that he'd done to me and with me last night.

  I shivered as I remembered how it felt being pressed against his chest as we rode the wave of need and desire together. I shook my head to clear it, knowing that if I got lost in my fantasy, I'd never figure out a way to keep Dax out of prison.

  Something fishy was going on, and I needed to get back to the office to talk with Jordie. I grabbed my purse and hailed a cab to take me back to the firm.

  When I walked through the door, I knew something was wrong. The front desk was empty. It was twelve-twenty and I knew that Alma always took her lunch at one on the dot, so she had to be in the ladies’ room or in back making a fresh pot of coffee for the guys.

  "Alma?" I called as I walked down the hall. I started to worry when I got no response. "Alma? Are you back there?"

  The office was silent. I peeked into Roger's office, but it was empty. I walked down the hall, starting to feel the beginning of panic welling up inside me.

  "Jordie?" I called. "Alma? Jordie? Are you here?"

  "Hey, Brooke," Jordie said as he came striding down the hall. "I don't know if you know what's going on around here, but Alma was pretty upset by a fax that arrived earlier. So I sent her home for the day."

  "Wait, what?" I said. "You know about the fax?"

  "Yeah, Alma showed me, and I talked about it with Roger before he h
eaded out to the marina," Jordie said. "We're not sure it's safe for you to be here right now."

  "That's silly," I replied. "I'm working on a case. I can't be scared away from the office by a child's drawing and a vague threat."

  "Brooke, someone has it in for Dax Malone," he said with a serious look. "His former lawyer is dead and now you're getting faxes that say you're next? That's not good, my friend."

  "Jordie, there is something incredibly weird going on around here," I said as I turned and faced him. "We need to talk about why Dax is being accused of a murder he didn't commit and why this whole case is spinning out of control. Why on earth would Dax want to murder Lydia Banks?"

  "Jesus, you haven't heard, have you?" Jordie said shaking his head. "Brooke, you might want to sit down."

  "I'm not a fragile daisy, Jordie," I said waving a hand at him as I grew irritated. "Just tell me what the hell is going on."

  "Okay, well, don't say I didn't warn you," Jordie took a deep breath and began. "Dax Malone is a drug kingpin in LA. He uses the club as his front to cover the drug running he does, and he sells the drugs out of the club to the members who have passed the vetting process."

  "Huh, really?" I said utterly unsurprised, since Dax had just spent the past hour filling me in on all the details surrounding his business.

  "You don't seem surprised," he said in a disappointed voice.

  "I'm not because I already knew it," I said. "Now, what I'm concerned with is why Lydia Banks was offed and who is trying to frame Dax for the murder."

  "How do you propose we figure that out?" he asked.

  "I don't know, but Roger went to the marina to check it out, so there's that," I said. Then, I remembered the stack of papers on my desk and turned to go get them so I could show Jordie. "And, there's something else I want to show you."

  "What's that?" he asked.

  "Do you know anything about a deal we did with Banks and Associates last year?" I asked as I searched through the stacks of paperwork on my desk. "It would have been around the time Jake left me, so I was pretty useless then. But do you remember you and Roger doing any deals with them?"

  "No, I don't remember anything like that," he said. "Do you remember what it was for?"

  "Some kind of land contract for property near Skid Row," I said as I continued searching. I knew I'd left the paperwork on my desk earlier, but now it was missing. Maybe I'd stuck it my briefcase along with the files I wanted to discuss with Dax. I checked and when I didn't find them, I started feeling concerned. Had someone taken them?

  "Huh, no I don't remember anything like that," he said as he watched me. "Did you ask Roger?"

  "No, he was gone by the time I remembered I had the papers," I said, feeling bad for lying to Jordie about our friend. I had a weird feeling about Roger, and at the moment, I wasn't sure what side he was on. I knew that Roger was always on Roger's side, but this time there seemed to be more than just his side and our side. I couldn't put my finger on the source of my unease, but I knew better than to draw Jordie into the middle of it without proof. Not only would it destroy the firm, it would drive a wedge through our friendship and maybe for no reason at all. "I can't find the papers, maybe Alma filed them."

  "Alright, well, if you find them let me know," he said. "Meanwhile, I'm going to go back to looking over the footage of Lydia's last week at her firm. I'm wondering if she had any visitors that might lead us to an explanation for why she disappeared."

  "Good thinking," I said as I sat down and tried to think out my next move. If the papers had been taken, then there was someone who had access to our offices and we weren't safe from spying eyes. "Hey, Jordie, it might sound weird for me to say this, but make sure you lock up all the files on this case before you leave your office, okay?"

  "Uh, okay," he shrugged. "You think we have a spy amongst us?"

  "No, not so much amongst us as just watching us and rifling through our stuff," I said. "Just to be on the safe side."

  "Sure thing, Brooke," he said with a sideways glance at me. "You sure you're okay?"

  "I'm fine, but this case is getting weirder by the hour," I said as I turned back to my computer and began punching the keyboard in search of something that I wasn't sure actually existed.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Dax

  I had just returned to my penthouse to shower and change after a long morning when the phone rang. I looked at the number and didn't recognize it, so I let it go to voicemail as I brewed myself a cup of strong espresso and shed my clothing.

  I replayed the previous twenty-four hours and smiled as I remembered the way Brooke had looked laying on her desk. I wanted to see her lying on my bed, eyes wide and her hair spilling out over the pillows as we enjoyed one another again and again. I wanted her to wake up next to me and smile as I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close under the covers. I wanted to see her perched on a stool downstairs as I whipped up eggs and poured coffee.

  It surprised me to think about all of the little things that I wanted with Brooke. I'd never been one for mornings after or pleasing a woman beyond what it took to sexually wow her. I'd never wanted to let the women in my life past a certain point, and as a result, I'd chosen women who'd never inspired me to want to do more for them. Women like Diamond liked my wild, alpha ways, but they knew better than to try and tame me. I wasn't a man who wanted or needed taming.

  Until I met Brooke. There was something about her that made me want to be a better version of myself when I was with her. I wanted to impress her and please her, but more than that, I wanted her to want me. I wanted her to choose me. I stood in the shower and let the water stream down over my tired body before I lathered up and sadly washed away the lingering scent of Brooke and her desire. I wanted more of that. I wanted her.

  I quickly chose a pair of jeans and a black button down shirt for the day's uniform. I was tempted to go full out and dress in a suit, but I knew better than to call attention to myself that way. And besides, I wasn't really a suit kind of guy. My jeans and my comfortable shirts were my armor. And, I had a feeling that today I was going to need some heavy-duty armor.

  I padded down to the kitchen and brewed myself another espresso before I turned on the news and caught up with what was going on in the world. I had just picked up my phone to check my messages when I heard the reporter say, "And in local news, Beck Malone, brother of accused murderer, Dax Malone, walked away from a rehab facility in LA this afternoon. Sources say that Beck was at the facility to deal with a heroin addiction while his brother fights to prove his innocence in the murder of local attorney Lydia Banks.

  Banks had been Malone's attorney for years before he was arrested and charged with premeditated execution and dumping her body in the water near Marina del Rey. Malone's current attorney, Brooke Raines, has said that she has no comment, aside from the fact that her client is innocent.

  Police said that Beck Malone was wearing a white t-shirt, jeans, and no shoes when he walked off the hospital grounds earlier this afternoon, and his doctors are asking the public to be on the lookout for him as he might be in need of medication or medical care. Please call 800-555-2251 if you see him. This is Annika Randall reporting for Action News live on the scene. Back to you in the studio, Hal."

  "FUCK!" I yelled into the empty room. "Beck, what are you doing?"

  I'd had a bad feeling about leaving Beck in a rehab facility that had no security or locked wards, but he'd refused to be checked in to a place like that, so I'd compromised and found New Horizons. They'd promised me that they would keep a close eye on him and that he'd never be out of the sight of a staff member. Now, everything was really going to hell in a hand basket. If Beck walked away and got mixed up in drugs again, I probably wouldn't be able to find him, forget about saving him from his own addiction.

  I leaned against the counter and ran a hand through my hair. How in the hell was I going to deal with yet another stress? The murder charges, the club, and the drug shipments that seemed to be
suspect in the ODs were all demanding my attention. Now, Beck was going to split this in a four-way. I slammed my fist on the counter and cursed him, "Damn you, Beck Malone!"

  I had to find him before anyone else did. His life most likely depended on it.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  Brooke

  Later that afternoon, Jordie came rushing into my office yelling, "Brooke! Brooke! Turn on the news!" I grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels until I came to the Action News report. Annika Randall was explaining that Beck Malone had walked away from the rehab facility that his brother had admitted him to not twenty-four hours before.

  "We need to find him," I said to Jordie without looking away from the television. If Beck was out there roaming around searching for drugs, it made him, and Dax, vulnerable. We needed to find Beck and get him somewhere safe before someone else decided he was a good target. I looked at Jordie and he nodded as he went back to his office to make a few calls.

  I picked up the phone and dialed. "Pop, I need your help," I said. "And, I need it to be hush hush."

  "What's up, kiddo?" he asked as I heard my mother in the background asking if it was one of the kids.

  "I need help finding someone who doesn't want to be found," I said. "Beck Malone has wandered away from rehab and I can't explain it all right now, but we need to find him as soon as humanly possible."

  "Hmm, well, I can think of a few places where someone might go if they want to disappear," my father said.

  "Pop, he's a junkie looking for a fix," I said.

  "Oh, well, then, I know exactly where he might go," my father replied. "I'll check it out and let you know what I find."

  "Pop, don't do anything risky or dangerous," I warned.

  "My darling daughter, I am an LA Times reporter," he said haughtily. "Danger and risk are our middle names."

  "Pop, you're an entertainment reporter," I said with a smile. "Keep it safe and simple."