Hot Lawyers: The Lee Christine Collection

by Lee Christine

  Why had she come back?

  Trying to curb his impatience, Evan thought about Moulder’s impending arrest. It proved that Laila’s problems were linked to the military, and that should have reassured him — but it didn’t. Moulder had only been after information, whereas Holt had emerged on the scene a week ago, around the same time Laila had taken instructions from Scarlett.

  Coincidence?

  Someone wants you dead bitch!

  Evan fought his way out from under the blanket of anger that enveloped him every time he thought of the bikie with his hands around her throat.

  He sucked in a breath, steadied himself, only to hear George Peyton’s voice in his head.

  Everyone has a secret.

  He was in no doubt George was alluding to something in Laila’s past, something that might be exploited, something she was ashamed of. Like him, wanting to hide the fact that his mother had once been the town bike.

  Evan’s heart gave a painful twist. He’d forgiven his mother her shortcomings long ago, but he’d always believed George could do no wrong. Now, he could see it for what it was, a hero worship developed in childhood and fast becoming an illusion. The pedestal he’d put George Peyton on was looking shakier by the day.

  And then there was Laila.

  Loyal, honest and caring.

  Keep me informed.

  He hadn’t kept George informed. He’d done the opposite, and kept away. He’d sought out Luke Neilson, used his connections to help Laila, even taking her to his place to ensure she came to no further harm.

  Emotional decisions, based on his feelings.

  For the woman on the other side of the Peyton case.

  Evan raked a hand through his hair.

  The Peytons were his family, his livelihood and his clients. It was his responsibility, as their lawyer, to go hard for them in this divorce case.

  How in god’s name could he do that, fearing they were involved in the threat on her life?

  How could he do it, feeling the way he did?

  Chapter Thirty

  4 p.m. Friday

  The day was overcast and dismal, as Evan and Dickson shook hands out on the curb. Then the detective walked around the back of the patrol car, opened the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel.

  From the veranda, Laila could see a handcuffed Jason Moulder sitting in the back seat. He had a long night ahead of him, certain to be charged with a string of offences, two of breaking and entering, two for illegal phone taping, as well as one for installing illegal spyware. He would also be charged for copying intellectual property from Mike’s computer, and anything else Dickson Cross could throw at him.

  Still, he’d saved her life last night, and she was glad she’d thanked him again.

  ‘Cross thinks Holt’s dead.’ Evan came up the front steps and joined her. ‘Or at least gone to ground, as bikies tend to do. He’d have to know there was a chance he’d be caught on CCTV the day of the fire, and now you and Moulder can identify him. If he’s alive, he’s probably out of the city by now.’

  Laila watched the patrol car pull away from the curb, lights flashing though Dickson didn’t put the siren on. She stiffened as warm hands touched her waist.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Concerned eyes studied her face, reminding her of the way he’d looked the afternoon she’d gone to Poole Greenwood. ‘Why didn’t you stay at the apartment?’

  Laila turned and went inside, heard his exasperated sigh as he followed her. But he didn’t ask her again, just pointed to the blood on the floor.

  ‘I’ll clean this up, then we’ll sit and talk.’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Laila waved a dismissive hand and walked into the lounge room. ‘I’ll see to it after you’ve gone.’

  There was silence.

  When she turned around, he was standing in the room, hands on hips, jaw tight, a questioning look in his eyes. ‘Why would I go anywhere?’

  Laila slid the card from her jeans pocket and handed it to him, anger boiling in her veins at the sight of Scarlett’s curling scrawl.

  Holding the note between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes locked on hers. Then he lowered his gaze and read. After a few seconds, he looked up.

  ‘Where’d you get this?’

  ‘In your coat pocket, the one you left in my office. The dry cleaner pinned it your lapel. I was putting it away. I wasn’t snooping, I was just hanging it up.’

  ‘Okay.’ He stared down at the note again, a mystified expression on his face. ‘I’ve never seen this.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me.’

  ‘I’m not lying.’

  His words were punched out, fast and hard. Laila took a breath. ‘I know it’s from Scarlett. She said a friend recommended my practice, but I had no idea that friend was you.’

  He brought his gaze up to meet hers again, the colour draining from his face, a muscle ticking in his cheek.

  Laila held her breath, hoping he’d say something that would make sense, wanting him to wave a magic wand and make things right between them.

  ‘It didn’t happen that way.’

  She’d steeled herself for the blow, but nothing could have prepared her for the shaft of pain that seemed to slice through her body, puncturing her heart, like she was bleeding inside. She brought a hand to her stomach.

  He moved, grasping the tops of her arms in a strong hold. ‘Listen to me. It didn’t happen that way.’

  Laila twisted, fighting her way out of his grasp. She stumbled backwards, hands curled at her sides. ‘How did it happen then?’

  He turned away, moving restlessly around the room like he had when Dickson had questioned Moulder, like he had in the mediation, when she said they wanted thirty million dollars.

  ‘Scarlett’s threatened to leave Duncan before. She’s called me numerous times, asking what to do. Each time, I made it clear that first and foremost I act for Duncan and George, and she should get independent advice. I’d given her the names of a couple of lawyers she could contact, but nothing ever happened.’

  He raked back his hair and turned to face her again.

  ‘She rang me, the morning of the negotiations. It was crazy in the office, we had a million things on. The Chinese consortium was in town and we had back-to-back meetings. We’d been working on it for months, staying up at night so we lined up with the northern hemisphere’s work day. When she called — I thought it was like all the other times. A girlfriend had given her your name, and she wondered if I knew you.

  ‘I told her I did, said you were competent. That’s all. After that, I left for the meeting. It might have crossed my mind, once, but like all the other times, Duncan didn’t say a word to me. There was no way I was going to broach the subject. I could have scared the shit out of him over nothing more than Scarlett having a rant because he wouldn’t buy her the latest model Merc.’

  His nostrils flared as he pulled in a deep breath, eyes cutting back to her. ‘I’ll admit, it crossed my mind again, in terms of how it could affect the contracts, but I took a gamble and signed off anyway, always taking my cues from Duncan, my client.’

  ‘As for this.’ He held up the card and dropped it on the coffee table. ‘I have no idea how it got in my coat.’

  Laila watched him, thinking back to the day she’d applied for the orders. She’d walked out of the courtroom ahead of Scarlett.

  Then Evan spoke again. ‘The only thing I can think of, is that she must have put it in my pocket on her way out of the court. My jacket was hanging on the back of the chair. She must have slipped it in my pocket somehow. But honestly, I’m only guessing. I know about as much as you.’

  Laila wanted to scream and shout and pummel his chest with her fists. He’d known from the beginning she hadn’t won Scarlett on her own merits. He’d had a hand in it. And despite his explanations, she didn’t believe him. The evidence was right there in front of her.

  ‘Scarlett told me it was hard to escape the Peyton web.’ Laila gave a sarcastic laugh, unable to disguise the b
itterness in her voice. ‘She said she wanted someone who couldn’t be manipulated. God, what a joke.’

  ‘I did not manipulate you.’ He rubbed a hand down his face, tension radiating off him in waves.

  ‘Yes, you did. You manipulated me, manipulated the entire situation from the start.’ Laila couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d wanted to. ‘What did you think? That I’d go soft if you were on the other side? Or were you hoping for inside information you could use to Duncan’s advantage?’

  ‘Give me some credit.’ His voice was low, but his chest rose and fell with the effort of holding himself in check. ‘I’m not so bad at family law I have to pump you for information while we’re screwing.’

  ‘That’s exactly what you thought.’ Laila spat out the words, voice rising as she grew more agitated. ‘I must have derailed your plans though when I broke it off. I bet that wasn’t factored into your deal-making strategy, Mr Hotshot.’

  ‘There was no deal making where you were concerned.’ He swallowed, Adam’s apple shifting in his throat. ‘I might have made a poor decision that day, but I did so based on prior experience.’

  ‘Don’t give me that crap!’ Furious, she stepped forward and shoved him in the chest. ‘You did it based on your own self-interest.’

  ‘Come on.’ He raised both hands then and beckoned her forward. ‘Give it to me. You’ve come this far, why not get it all off your chest?’

  ‘Duncan left a message on your machine.’ She clenched her hands at her sides. ‘You’re to be at the house at five. He’s assuming that will be okay, seeing as you have five percent.’

  His eyes narrowed, and he stared at her for a full five seconds. Then he checked his watch. ‘Fine. That gives me about an hour.’

  ‘Is that all you can say?’

  He shook his head, pursed his lips, eyes glittering with anger. ‘You know I’m not obliged to disclose my personal assets and investments to you, just as I would never ask how you structure the Blackhawk Foundation. I had a ten-year football career. It set me up. My investments are diversified, and if I think one of the Peyton investments is a good one, and there’s an opportunity to invest in it, I’ll always consider it. It’s not illegal.’

  He was right, it wasn’t illegal. And how he invested his money was no-one’s business but his own.

  Still, his words played on a loop in her mind. See what can be achieved by staying friendly? I have a lot to lose too, you know.

  She glared at him. Like an idiot, she’d believed he was referring to her, and all along his first priority had been the development.

  ‘You had an ulterior motive for staying friendly with me.’

  ‘I’ve always had an ulterior motive for staying friendly with you.’

  Laila shook her head, blocked out the words, refusing to let him sidetrack her. Holding her resolve, she faced him again, nearly lost it when she caught the look of disappointment in his eyes.

  ‘I think you should go.’

  He blinked, seemed to lose his way for a moment, then gathered himself again. ‘Listen to me. You’re linking this note to my five percent share, and the two issues are unrelated. The share I have was a commercial decision I made years ago, when this deal was in its infancy.’

  ‘I don’t buy that. Whether you made that deal years ago, or yesterday, you’d still do everything in your power to protect that investment.’

  He threw his hands in the air in frustration. ‘What more can I say Laila? I’m telling you the truth.’

  It sounded like he was speaking from his heart, but how could she be sure? She was terrible at this. She’d fallen victim to this kind of thing all her life, fallen for her parents’ manipulation, deluding herself that they loved her. Wanting to believe.

  But wanting didn’t make it real.

  ‘I don’t get you, Laila. You fight for other people, and yet you won’t fight for yourself, for us. Why would I create a deliberate conflict of interest if it could have been avoided? That fact should reassure you I didn’t believe Scarlett would go through with it.’

  Laila went icy cold all over.

  ‘Don’t fight for anything?’ She moved closer, jabbed herself in the chest with her index finger. ‘I fought for my independence, to have a life free of abuse, but you’ll never know about my struggle, never know what it took for me to walk away. It nearly killed me, would have, except for Will. And here you are, the product of some fancy boarding school, telling me I need to fight.’

  She didn’t miss the flare of his nostrils, the rapid rise and fall of his chest underneath the soft fabric of his hoodie.

  ‘You’ve shared so little of yourself Evan, what would I have been fighting for exactly? For you to come over and fuck me twice a week? I can get anyone to do that.’

  He closed his eyes for a few seconds, as if she’d physically wounded him. And when he opened them again, he was looking at her with so much hurt and disappointment, as if she’d betrayed him, not the other way around. As if he expected better of her.

  Laila’s heart quivered in her chest and she blinked away the hot tears swelling in her eyes. ‘My parents always made me feel like a failure at life, and you just did too. But there’s one thing I can be proud of, Mr Hotshot. I got to where I am on my own, and I never needed the Peytons as my pimp.’

  He swung away from her to stand rigid, head bowed. ‘You think I prostitute myself for the Peytons?’

  ‘They own you.’

  Chapter Thirty-one

  5:15 p.m. Friday

  The call from Duncan came through the Bluetooth, his voice reverberating around the car’s interior.

  ‘Finally! I’ve been trying to get you all bloody afternoon.’

  ‘I’m on my way. See you in ten.’ Evan cut the call before Duncan could say any more, shifting down a gear as he took the car over a speed hump.

  Laila was wrong. The Peytons didn’t own him.

  He wasn’t his mother’s son.

  A sudden mist clouded his vision, and he clenched his teeth and banged his wrist on the sports wheel.

  He hadn’t looked at Laila again, just gone straight to her room, grabbed his bag and shot through. She was right about one thing. He hadn’t shared details of his early life with her. She didn’t know it, but they had more in common than she thought.

  Now, he needed to fix things.

  Ten minutes later, he was parking the car between two late-model Range Rovers. What the hell was going on here? There were cars everywhere.

  For once he didn’t look at the view, just opened the front door and stepped inside the massive hallway with the curving staircase. A chorus of female voices rose from the dining room, and he skirted around the bottom of the stairs and headed for George’s study, hoping he didn’t run into anyone.

  Outside the study door, he paused, dragging in a few deep breaths and clearing his mind.

  Laila was a lawyer, and if you looked at the evidence against him, it was damning. Weigh in her fear of being manipulated, and he could understand how she’d come to the conclusions she had.

  And she didn’t know of the suspicions he held about the Peytons. He couldn’t clear things up between them with that hanging over his head. His conscience wouldn’t allow it. He needed confirmation.

  He rapped on the door and stepped inside the room.

  George and Duncan looked up as he came in. They were sitting on brown chesterfields facing each other, a carved wooden chess set on the coffee table between them. But there was no game underway tonight. Deep in conversation, their bodies were angled forward, tense. Duncan stood up as he came in.

  ‘About time. Not like you to go missing in action. Drink?’

  Duncan wandered towards the drinks cabinet as Evan leaned over and shook hands with George. The old man eyed him up and down, as if his lateness alone indicated a problem.

  ‘No thanks.’ Evan jiggled his car keys in his hands. ‘I can’t stay.’

  ‘You can’t stay?’ Duncan came back, an empty beer glass in his hand.
‘That crazy lawyer’s after thirty mil payout for my wife — and you can’t stay?’

  Evan’s temper flared at the slur on Laila. ‘That crazy lawyer has more ethics in her little finger than you’ll ever have.’

  ‘What the fuck’s up your nose?’ Duncan demanded.

  ‘As I said yesterday, Ms Richards merely conveyed Scarlett’s outrageous demands. She won’t be party to any kind of blackmail. She knows thirty million is excessive, and she’s aware Scarlett won’t get an extra thirteen million if it goes to court.’

  ‘Jesus!’ George puffed on his pipe, shaggy eyebrows pulled into a frown. ‘How’d Scarlett get this information she’s bribing us with anyway? That’s what I’d like to know.’

  ‘I have no idea how she obtained it. It came as a complete surprise to both Laila Richards and myself. But I understand from Duncan the allegations are true.’

  ‘Hmm,’ George said.

  Taking that as confirmation, Evan went on. ‘You know I’m not privy to the day-to-day workings of the family business. But what you have to think about over the weekend is how much you’re prepared to pay to keep the family’s reputation intact, and a potential criminal charge against Duncan at bay.’

  ‘I’m not fussed on thirty million if the settlement’s worth seventeen,’ George said.

  ‘I can guarantee she won’t get any more money by taking it to court. The family court will only give her what’s fair, regardless of any allegations she makes. But what she can do in court is trash the family’s reputation, which could result in Duncan being charged. So, one, do you pay it, and that’s the end of it? Or, two, do you make an offer of around nineteen or twenty and negotiate from there?’

  ‘What do you suggest?’ asked George.

  Here was his opportunity! This could turn out to be the worst decision of his life, but it had to be done. For the first time since he was nine years old, the spot fires were flaring up faster than Evan could put them out.

  ‘I’d offer nineteen and give Laila Richards time to convince her client it’s a more realistic offer. At the moment, Scarlett’s adamant she wants thirty. It’s whether we can hold our nerve.’