“Are you all right?”
“Yes.” No.
“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” Sal said. “Not with me.”
He was wrong. She had always had to be strong. Especially around him.
* * *
Sal started with Hewston. He’d picked up on the lawyer’s barely disguised antagonism toward Olivia.
Hewston was of average height and weight with features that in another era would have been called patrician. He had a tanned and toned look that spelled expensive athletic clubs and time on the links.
His suit bore the quiet elegance of hand tailoring and his shoes appeared to be Italian. Sal didn’t care about fancy clothes or shoes, but he’d learned enough about them while working for S&J Security/Protection to recognize the real thing.
But it wasn’t Hewston’s bespoke clothes or Bruno Maglis that interested Sal. It was the man’s nervous energy that all but vibrated in the air, making Sal suspect the lawyer had something to hide.
The man studied Sal with frankly curious eyes. “So how do you know our Livvie?”
Sal raised a brow. He knew Olivia didn’t share the nickname with many people. That this man used it so casually told Sal that Hewston intentionally wanted to convey a closeness that Sal had determined wasn’t there, based on the coolness in Olivia’s voice when she’d made the introductions. “We’ve known each other a few years.”
“She’s a great gal. A little emotional sometimes. You know women.”
Sal didn’t react to the obvious dig. Hewston clearly had his own agenda. You learned more by listening than talking, and so Sal let his silence encourage the other man to continue.
“Don’t get me wrong. I like Livvie. I like her a lot. The whole office does.”
“That’s good to hear.” Sal waited a beat. “She seems very fond of the head of the firm.”
“Yeah. She and Chantry are tight. Nothing romantic, of course. Just good friends. He and her old man started the firm together back in the day.”
“So she said.” Sal nodded knowingly. “Must be nice to have a foot in the door, so to speak.” His tone invited the other man to share.
“Yeah. And let me tell you, she isn’t afraid of using her name to get what she wants. Take this case for instance.”
“What about it?”
“Olivia wanted it, so Olivia got it. That simple.” Bitterness twisted the man’s lips.
“You don’t think she earned it?”
“No way.” Apparently wondering if he’d gone too far, Hewston backpedaled. “I mean, she’s a good enough lawyer, but a case that big needs someone with more experience.”
“Someone like you?”
“Maybe.” Modesty didn’t sit well on the lawyer’s shoulders. “There’re other lawyers in the firm. Any one of us could have handled the case, but Olivia got it because her last name is Hammond.” Resentment splashed through his voice. He couldn’t hide his true feelings, Sal thought. Not for long.
“Does the rest of the firm feel the same way?” Sal asked.
Hewston darted a quick look around the office. “I couldn’t say.”
* * *
After a lot of thought, Olivia had come to the conclusion that Calvin’s kidnapping had to be connected with the case against the pharmaceutical company. Otherwise, why take him at this particular time?
While Sal talked with her coworkers, she went through the files again, looking for something, anything, that would point to what made this case so important. Sure, the company would lose market shares and a chunk of money if a judgment were filed against it, but such things happened all the time. Other companies had weathered worse setbacks and rebounded.
Two hours later, she sat back and tried without success to rub the kinks from her shoulders. All she’d gotten for her efforts were strained eyes and knotted muscles. What had she expected to find? A big sign saying, “This is what you’re looking for”?
Obviously she wasn’t any good at this investigation stuff, and she hoped Sal had done better. She went in search of him and found him charming the receptionist.
“Thanks for chatting with me,” he said, and the girl blushed prettily.
Olivia hooked her arm in his as they headed back to her office. “Did you learn anything?” she asked once they were inside with the door not only shut but locked as well. She normally didn’t lock her door, but she didn’t want anyone barging in on them while she and Sal were discussing the members of the firm.
“It seems that not everyone loves Chantry.” Sal checked his notes. “According to a couple of the secretaries and a law clerk, Hewston made no secret of the fact that he thought Chantry was too old and set in his ways to lead the company.”
Through the door’s window she saw Bryan talking with one of the other associates. “Bryan was passed over for a partnership last year. For the third time. Rumor had it that he was ready to quit, but he didn’t have anywhere to go. So he’s still here.”
“What do you think of him?”
“He’s competent enough. Good at the grip-and-greet thing with clients, but he lacks follow-through.”
Sal hiked a brow. “Not much of a recommendation.”
“Bryan knows his stuff, but he tends to be lazy when it comes to doing the pre-trial work like looking up precedents and putting motions before the court.”
“What about you? Do you mind that you’re not a partner?”
“I’m not ready,” she said easily. “Someday. When the time is right. In the meantime, I enjoy what I’m doing.”
“Your father helped found the firm. That should count for something.”
“It does. For him.” She felt the familiar defenses slide into place. “I don’t trade on my father’s name. That’s not who I am.”
“No,” Sal said. “It’s not.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“I wanted to hear you say it.”
They spent the next hour going over Sal’s impressions of the office personnel with Olivia filling in details where she could.
“What about Newman? She looks hungry. Like she wants whatever someone else has.”
“Hungry’s a good way to describe her. She’s poached other people’s clients when she could. But kidnapping?” Olivia stopped, thought about it. “Maybe. She hasn’t made a secret of the fact that she wants to be more than an associate.”
“You know these people. Know what makes them tick. Would any of them be willing to sell out Chantry for a big payday?”
“I don’t want to believe it. But maybe...” She thought of the designer bags that Vicky carried to work, the flashy car that Bryan drove. Neither of them could afford those on their salaries. “They might.”
Sal nodded. “I thought so. I spotted the Kate Spade bag.”
Olivia couldn’t contain her spurt of surprise. “You know Kate Spade handbags?”
“I have three sisters. They’ll live on ramen soup for six months if it means they can buy a genuine Kate Spade. Our brother, Nicco, calls them purse snobs.”
She heard the amusement in the words, but there was more. There was real love, causing her to recall her childhood wish for a sister. Or a brother. It hadn’t mattered.
“You’re fortunate to have your sisters and brother.”
“We Santonnis are a loud, bossy bunch. I’ll take you to meet them one day—” He stopped abruptly.
He was remembering the same thing she was, she thought, a pang of regret spearing through her. Two years ago, they’d planned a trip to meet his family.
It had never happened.
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you into designer handbags?”
Olivia shook her head and patted her battered briefcase. “Daddy gave this to me when I graduated from law school. It’s getting prett
y beat-up, but I always carry it.” Her voice caught. “It reminds me of him.
“I have to get back to work,” she said, the huskiness of her voice at odds with the teasing note of earlier.
“Yeah. And I should be talking with more of your coworkers. See what I can learn.”
He closed the door behind him, leaving Olivia feeling more alone than ever. Without her knowing how it had happened, Sal was starting to become important to her all over again. The question was, what was she going to do about it?
SIX
By the end of the day, Sal had a pretty good handle on Chantry & Hammond’s personnel. There was the flirt. The jealous coworker. The ambitious partners. For the most part, they fit neatly into categories.
He’d do background checks on each, including any criminal history. It wasn’t difficult to figure out that several members of the law firm were living beyond their means.
He’d zeroed in on Bryan Hewston and Vicky Newman. A call to Shelley netted him the information that Newman came from money and had a substantial trust fund. Okay, that explained the designer bags and clothes. Hewston was another matter. It wasn’t clear, Shelley told him, where his money came from. She promised to do more digging.
“Thanks, boss.”
“Take care of Olivia. From what you’ve said, she’s in over her head.”
“You know I will.”
“I wish I could be there, but I can hardly tie my own shoes, much less chase down bad guys.”
Sal gave the expected chuckle, but his mind wasn’t really on what Shelley was saying. He was too busy trying to convince himself that he didn’t still have feelings for Olivia, before giving it up as a lost cause. Mixing personal and private matters was a recipe for disaster, so he was determined to keep things strictly professional.
That was the way to go. The only way to go.
He’d insisted on accompanying her to the Savannah courthouse and seeing her home at the end of the day. In between chatting up her coworkers, he’d found a motel, stashed his duffel bag there. He could have stayed at his parents’ place or with his brother, Nicco, but he preferred having the freedom of movement that a motel room offered.
Though he’d grown up in Savannah, he’d kept his distance from his family since his return from Afghanistan. The past kept tripping him up. He’d hidden the darker parts from his family as well as Olivia.
He knew he needed to make time to see his family. Until then, he contented himself with a phone call to his parents, assuring them that he was all right and would see them once the case was resolved.
He now waited at the side entrance to the courthouse as they’d agreed.
Heels clicking on the marble floor, Olivia made her way to where he stood. He took in the defeated expression on her face.
“A setback in court?”
“Waterloo was a setback. This was a disaster.” She tried a smile, but it barely made it to her lips. “I let everyone down.” Her shoulders slumped. “Especially the parents. They’re depending on me.”
“You’re too hard on yourself. Always tilting at windmills.”
“That’s what windmills are for.”
He understood that defending the underdog was what had made her want to be a lawyer in the first place. “You’ll get ’em tomorrow.”
“I hope so. I have to.” Her voice hardened. “What the company did to those children is as good as murder. And that’s what I’ll take it down for.”
From what he’d heard about the case against the pharmaceutical company, the parents filing the suit stood a good chance of winning. His eyes narrowed at the thought of sick children being given counterfeit drugs.
Children had always held a special place in his heart. He doted on his nieces and nephews and took every chance he had to spoil them, much to his sisters’ chagrin. While in Afghanistan, he’d taken a special interest in the children and had the nickname Gentle Giant bestowed upon him. He sent most of his salary from S&J to a foundation that helped children displaced by war.
“You’re a real hard case, Hammond, you know that?”
This time her smile reached her eyes. “So I’ve heard.”
“I like that in a woman.”
“Why, thank you, kind sir.” Her eyelashes fluttered flirtatiously. “But I do declare that you’ve made me blush.”
The back-and-forth felt good. The time with Olivia had been punctuated with threats, fear and worry. They needed to step back occasionally and remember the normal.
“Come on. I’ll take you to dinner.”
“Could we pick up something and take it home? I want to get out of these heels and put my feet up.”
“You’re the boss.”
He stopped for burgers and fries, the enticing smell of grilled beef wafting through the truck’s cab. Olivia was probably as hungry as he was, and he drove a bit faster to meet her at her townhome. Once they had both reached her place, Olivia excused herself, murmuring that she wanted to change out of her suit.
She reappeared five minutes later dressed in a soft pink track suit, hair pulled back in a long ponytail. To his eyes, she was even more beautiful than she had been in the spit and polish of the professional suit. She looked as fresh as a bowl of strawberry ice cream.
He was wondering how to prepare her for the possibility that they might not be able to get her boss back when she brought up the subject.
“You don’t think we’ll get Calvin back alive.”
He didn’t answer right away, wanting to choose his words with care. “I don’t know what to think.” That was honest. “Remember that it’s not just Calvin’s life on the line,” he felt compelled to add. “The kidnappers have you in their sights as well.” He knew that she was less afraid for herself than she was for her boss.
That was Olivia—always putting others first.
Sal tightened his lips. It was up to him to make certain she didn’t become a casualty.
* * *
Olivia checked her watch for what seemed the hundredth time in the last hour. “Why don’t they call?” Waiting was hard, brutally hard. “I just want to get it over with.”
“They’re depending on that. When they do call, they want you so shaken that you’ll do exactly as they say.”
“Of course I’ll do what they say.” There was no question of that.
“We have to get the upper hand somehow.”
“And how would we do that?”
“We find out all we can about your boss. What he’s been doing the last few months. Who he’s seen. Everything.”
“Calvin does his own thing. He mostly leaves the day-to-day tasks to the partners and associates.”
“Then why kidnap him?”
The question they’d asked themselves over and over.
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I have to do this. Calvin is depending on me.” She had to see this through. For Calvin’s sake as well as her own. “I shouldn’t have involved you.”
“You can’t do this on your own.” A deep line of annoyance rode between his brows.
She bristled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Despite her tart words, she found herself wanting to lean on him in ways that were far from acceptable. With more regret than she expected, she pushed away.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean you weren’t capable in most things, only that you’re out of your league here.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“It’s supposed to make you think smart.”
She was responsible for getting Calvin back safely. The kidnappers’ call had been very clear about that.
Olivia reached for another fry. Sal did the same, their fingers brushing each other fleetingly. She fought the twin urges to pull
back and to prolong the touch. In the end, she took a fry and pretended she hadn’t noticed the jolt of electricity that had arced between them. A glance at his face told her that he, too, was not unaffected.
Her gaze drifted to where their hands had oh-so-briefly met before she’d pulled away and busied herself with the fries. The subtle deepening of the lines bracketing his mouth wasn’t lost on her; nor was the tightening of his shoulders. He’d seen through her charade of pretending she hadn’t noticed the sparks.
She wanted to explain, to apologize, but feared that doing so would only draw attention to what was best ignored. Acting on that momentary awareness that had flashed from his hand to hers could only lead to regret. She had enough regret regarding Sal without heaping more on to it.
A smart woman would keep her distance and remind herself that he was only there to help her get Calvin back safely. She’d always considered herself a smart woman.
Now she wondered.
SEVEN
After seeing Olivia to the courthouse in the morning, Sal went back to digging into the law firm’s employees.
Nothing sent up a red flag on anyone except Hewston. The lawyer seemed to have money to spare and Sal wanted to know where it came from. When in doubt, follow the money. It was a tried-and-true investigative technique.
He knew his way around a computer, but Shelley was better at unearthing things people wanted to keep hidden. A lot better.
It occurred to him that he needed to find out more about Calvin Chantry as well as his employees. If the kidnapping had to do with the case Olivia was trying, why kidnap Chantry? Why not Olivia? Everything came back to the why of it.
Sal could only be grateful that it hadn’t been Olivia who had been taken, Olivia who had been subjected to the fear and pain that Chantry had endured.
When she called to say that the defense had asked for a recess for the rest of the day, Sal told her to stay put and that he’d pick her up. Though she seemed to have recovered from the scare of two men holding her at knifepoint, images of that remained stuck in his mind.
He pulled up at the side entrance to the courthouse. Olivia saw him and waved. Just as she started toward him, two men grabbed her. Sal tore out of the truck and ran to where she struggled with the would-be abductors. She fought valiantly and got in several good kicks, but she was no match for the burly men who tried to force her into a van illegally parked on the side street.
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