by Lisa Childs
This strong, independent woman had been reduced to tears, and he felt horrible over that. “I’m sorry,” he murmured again—to her.
“Everybody is alive,” the chief pointed out. “That’s the important thing.”
“Keeping them alive is the important thing,” Parker said. “I’ll protect you myself, Ms. Gerber.” Because he knew she would never let Landon close to her again. He’d been close enough to hear what she’d whispered to her bodyguard.
She shook her head. Then she turned around, and her eyes were dry and cold. Maybe he’d only imagined that she’d been crying. “No. You and your team think I’m conspiring with Luther. Nobody’s going to protect me.”
“I can give you an officer for protection,” the chief offered.
She shook her head again. “One that could be working for Luther, too?”
The chief flinched.
“No, thanks,” she said. “I think I’ll be safer on my own than trusting anyone else ever again.” She turned for the door again.
But Parker called out, “You know why he did it, right?”
She gripped the knob so tightly that her fingers turned white. “I don’t care.”
“It was because he cares,” Parker said. “He wants you off the case, so Luther stops trying to kill you.”
“If he cared,” she said, and her voice cracked slightly, “he would know that I have to do this. I have to make sure Luther is finally brought to justice.”
“He cares more about you than about justice for Luther,” Parker said. “And that’s a hell of a lot.”
Jocelyn didn’t argue with him, just pulled open the door and walked off—alone and unprotected. And Parker flinched. Landon’s efforts to protect her had put her in even more danger.
Chapter 23
She hated him. He could still hear her whisper ringing in his ears even hours later. She hated him.
Landon had lost her. And not just her trust.
He’d lost her respect and whatever feelings she might have had for him. He’d been such a fool. He knew that, but Parker had called him into his office at the Payne Protection Agency, probably to make damn certain he knew how badly he’d screwed up and maybe even to fire him.
Landon didn’t care about his job, though. All he cared about was making sure she was safe. “Who do you have on her?” he asked the moment he stepped into Parker’s office.
His boss’s black hair was tousled like he’d been running his hands through it. A muscle twitched in his cheek just above his rigidly clenched jaw. He was furious with Landon.
“I’m not going to apologize,” he warned Parker.
“You deliberately misled Dubridge,” Parker said.
“To protect her,” Landon said.
“You could have done that without trying to destroy her career,” Parker said.
And Landon flinched. He knew how much her career meant to her. He had no intention of ruining that for her. He’d only wanted to cast enough doubt on her to get her removed from the Mills case. “She can’t try Luther or she’s going to die.”
Parker sighed and ran his hand through his hair again. “She might now,” he admitted. “Because she refuses to have anyone protect her.”
Landon gasped.
“She doesn’t trust anyone anymore—thanks to you.”
A stabbing pain struck Landon’s heart, and he sucked in a breath. “She can’t be alone. She nearly died the last time she was.”
If he hadn’t found her when he had, she would have died for certain. How long had she already been alone? Since that meeting in the chief’s office?
He glanced at his watch. It was after hours in her office now—with only that one security guard in the lobby paying no attention to what went on in the offices floors above him. His heart began to pound fast and furiously now.
He’d screwed up. He’d already known that before Parker had pointed it out to him. He just hadn’t realized how badly he’d screwed up. He only hoped it hadn’t cost Jocelyn her life already.
The words on the notebook blurred before Jocelyn’s eyes. She’d been working on her opening statement for weeks. Hell, ever since she’d learned she was the one who was going to be prosecuting Luther Mills. But now she couldn’t see or remember the clever words she’d written. She could see only Landon’s handsome face.
How had he made love with her so passionately to betray her so coldly such a short time later?
Was it because he cared, as his boss claimed? He’d wanted her off the case—just like Luther Mills. Or why had Luther tried so many times to have her killed?
She touched her throat. The skin was still tender where it was bruised. That was why she’d pulled off the scarf. Even having the thin silk rub against it bothered her, but maybe she was overly sensitive because of what had happened. She closed her eyes. It wasn’t as if she could read the notebook anyway. And she thought back to that night.
She’d been so shocked over what she’d found in her filing cabinet—over what Landon had used against her—that she hadn’t heard her door open. But then she hadn’t shut it because she’d intended to search the other offices. She hadn’t had a chance to do that before something had looped around her neck. It had been silk—like the scarf—but narrower and thicker. It had to have been a tie.
A silk tie...
Mike Forbes didn’t wear ties unless he was headed to court, and then he clipped on bow ties. Unfortunately, he’d taught Eddie Garza the same bad habit of clipping on a tie for court. And like Forbes, Eddie preferred bow ties.
The only man who always wore a tie—and a very expensive silk one—was...
She opened her eyes on a gasp and found him standing in her doorway. Dale Grohms.
The guy was tall, like Landon, but not nearly as broad. He had more of a runner’s build. His features were more refined, too, but he wasn’t nearly as good-looking as he thought he was. He leaned against the jamb as he fumbled with his already loosened tie.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. And she reached down for her purse and the Taser she kept inside it. But the purse wasn’t there. She’d shut it in the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet—along with her briefcase.
She glanced at it, remembering what had happened nights ago when she’d put the briefcase in there, what she’d found and how she had nearly died. Now she knew who had tried to kill her, but she couldn’t let him see that knowledge or that fear.
“Hi, Dale. You’re working late, too?” she asked.
“You sound surprised,” he remarked, and that little grin that always played around his mouth slipped away.
She’d never given Dale much thought beyond thinking he was a pompous ass. That was why she’d figured he always looked so smug, but now she knew the truth. He felt smug because he’d been fooling everyone.
Including her.
“I knew Eddie and Mike were still around,” she lied, “but I thought you’d left.”
“I saw Eddie and Mike leave a while ago,” he said, and the smug grin was back.
“Just for dinner,” she said. “They’re coming back.”
“Not once they get drinking,” Dale said. He glanced around. “So it looks like it’s just us. Unless your bodyguards are hanging around somewhere.”
She nodded and managed a short laugh. “Of course they are. They never let me out of their sight.”
“Seems like they did some nights ago.”
Now she knew beyond a doubt. He was the one who’d tried to strangle her earlier. That meant he was probably also the one who’d shot at her and Landon and who’d tried running them down in the parking garage.
So he had a gun as well as the tie he pulled free of his collar. She had to get to her Taser.
“But Landon showed up,” she said, forcing a smile. “He always shows up.”
Dale shrugged, as if he didn’t c
are. Or maybe he knew about what had happened today, how angry she was with Landon.
She’d told him she hated him. She’d thought she never wanted to see him again. But now she longed to see him, and not just so he could save her life again. If she died, she didn’t want Dale’s face to be the last one she saw.
She wanted to see Landon’s. She wanted Landon...
But she couldn’t count on him anymore. She could count only on herself. She uncrossed her legs from beneath her desk and planted her feet on the floor. She would have to act quickly if she had any hope of getting to the filing cabinet and her Taser. But when she jumped up, Dale moved quickly, stepping in front of her filing cabinet.
He grinned as he leaned back against it. “Have your purse and briefcase locked up in here again, huh?”
She reached for the phone on her desk, but he made a tsking noise. And she knew what he was going to say even before he said it.
“By the time Security gets up here, you’ll already be dead, Jocelyn. And then whoever rushes to your rescue is going to die, too.”
“Why?” she asked. And she wasn’t just trying to stall him now. She really wanted to know. “Why would you do this?”
“Kill you or work for Luther Mills?” he asked, as if both were a matter of fact.
He was convinced that this time she would die. So he didn’t care that she saw him, that she knew...
She shivered. But the Taser wasn’t the only weapon she had. A letter opener sat atop her desk. Its blade wasn’t sharp enough to do much damage, but maybe it would buy her some time.
Some time for what, though?
For Security to check on her? Or for Landon to do that? If he really cared, like Parker claimed he did, why had he left her unprotected?
Dale felt a rush of power at the look of fear and revulsion on her beautiful face. She didn’t look so haughty and superior now.
He grinned. “Why would I kill you, Jocelyn?” He repeated the first part of her question and acted as if he was truly pondering it. “Because you’re a pain in the ass of everybody in this office.”
She shivered again.
“It’s true,” he insisted. “We all hate you. You’re such a sanctimonious bitch.”
“I’ve never had a problem with you,” she said.
“Or a compliment,” he reminded her. “Or any interest at all. Hell, you didn’t even interrogate me like you did the others to see if they worked for Luther.”
“You weren’t on the DA’s list.”
He chuckled. So he’d fooled her, too.
“You have family money, so it’s not hard for you to live on an assistant district attorney’s salary,” she said. “You’re not on drugs or addicted to gambling.” She shook her head. “So why?”
“I’ve got to be poor or on drugs to want to kill you?” he teased with a smirk. This was fun.
So much more fun than shooting at her or trying to run her down...
Or strangling her from behind.
This was fun to play with her beforehand, to stoke her fear before he would watch her die. And this time she would die for certain.
“To work for Luther,” she persisted. “I don’t understand why you would help him.”
He felt a sudden chill, as if a door or window had opened somewhere. But the windows weren’t able to open. And the only door was to the stairwell. So the chill was all in his head even as it raced over his skin.
He shouldn’t talk about Luther. He knew that. But it wasn’t as if she was going to live anyway.
Still, he hesitated.
“Why, Dale?” she persisted.
He shrugged. “Your family money and mine are a little bit different,” he said. “You have a lot more.”
And what he’d passed off as coming from his grandmother had mostly come from Luther Mills. He’d just put it in his grandmother’s trust first.
Jocelyn nodded as if she’d been privy to his thoughts. No doubt she had figured it out; she’d obviously investigated him even though he hadn’t been on their boss’s list.
That was why she needed to die—even more so than Luther ordering it. She had to die because she was a pain in the ass.
“I do have a lot more money,” she said. “And if that’s all you want, I can give it to you.”
He moved away from the filing cabinet to lean over her desk. “I wanted something else from you, Jocelyn,” he admitted. “But you turned me down.”
“We work together,” she reminded him.
“You worked with the bodyguard, too,” he said. “But that didn’t stop you.”
Her face flushed, confirming what had only been suspicions. She had been romantically involved with Landon Myers. So where was he? That chill intensified, and he realized it was nerves now. Where the hell was Landon Myers?
Dale hadn’t shot him again. Or tried to run him down...
Where was he?
He glanced toward the open door and into the hall. But nothing moved—not even the shadows.
“That was a mistake,” she said, drawing his attention back to her.
Had she moved? She appeared to be sitting on the edge of her chair now. Did she intend to try to fight him?
As tall as she was, she was thin and delicately boned, too. And he was strong. Far stronger than she knew.
“And this is a mistake, Dale,” she said. “You haven’t killed anyone yet. So you can survive this. You can make a deal.”
He snorted. “I know about your deals, Jocelyn. They always include jail time. And I’m not going to jail.”
She shook her head. “No, no, of course not. You’ll be a hero, Dale. You’ll be the one who brings down Luther Mills.”
He shook his head and sighed. “You’re pathetic, Jocelyn. And condescending and superior as hell. Do you really think I’m going to fall for your bullshit?”
Her blue eyes widened with feigned innocence.
“I know you too well,” he said. And maybe that was why he should have been prepared when she lunged at him.
But the letter opener struck him, stabbing the corner of his eye. He blinked at the sting of pain and blood that trailed from the wound. Then he grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard until the letter opener dropped to her desk.
“You bitch!” he said. And he swung his other hand at her beautiful face, striking her hard.
Then he reached for her throat. He wasn’t even going to use his tie this time. No. This time he wanted to squeeze the life from her body with his own damn hands.
But she wasn’t done fighting. She clawed at his hands and tried kicking out—struggling so much that she knocked her chair over and fell to the ground.
He leaped over the desk and jumped on top of her. Her breath whooshed out as his weight hit her lungs and stomach. He grinned as he stared down at her.
She was so scared.
So beautiful...
Maybe he’d take a little more time before he killed her. Maybe he would take what she’d denied him...but had freely given to her damn bodyguard.
Chapter 24
Fear pounded in Landon’s heart as he rushed up the stairwell. He’d had to argue his way past the security guard in the lobby, who’d informed him that Jocelyn wasn’t alone on the district attorney’s floor. Dale Grohms hadn’t left yet either, which had surprised the guard, who’d remarked how much the male ADA was in and out of the office.
Landon’s heart had sunk then as he’d realized Grohms had to be the one working for Luther, the one who’d tried to kill her. But would he try again when the security guard knew he was present yet in the building? On the very same floor with Jocelyn?
Not wanting to alert Grohms to his presence, Landon had taken the elevator up only as far as the floor below the district attorney’s. Then he’d switched to the stairwell, running up the last flight of steps. As he pushed open the door
at the top of the stairs, he’d heard her scream.
And his already madly pounding heart had slammed against his ribs. He’d never heard her like that, despite all the dangerous situations they’d found themselves in. He’d never heard her sound so terrified.
He drew his weapon and ran toward her office. Grohms must have been the one trying to kill them, so he had a gun, too. One he drew and fired as Landon neared the doorway. A bullet whizzed past Landon’s head and broke the window on the door across from Jocelyn’s.
He heard another cry, but it didn’t sound like Jocelyn’s, and something clattered to the floor. Barrel raised, Landon darted into the room. Dale didn’t fire at him, but he charged, knocking him aside as he headed toward the hall.
Instead of running after him, he checked on Jocelyn to make sure she was breathing. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded, but her cheek was already swelling from a blow. And her hair was tangled around her face. She clutched a letter opener in her hand, blood dripping from the blade onto her desk.
Instead of him saving her, she had probably saved Landon, for Dale’s gun lay on the floor. She must have stabbed him to make him drop it. He wanted to reach for her, to pull her into his arms—not to comfort her, but to comfort himself. He had to make sure she was really all right.
She gestured with her letter opener at the doorway. “Get him, please.” Then she stumbled back and, trembling, dropped onto the edge of her desk.
“Jocelyn...”
“We need him to testify against Luther,” she said.
And he nodded. If they got Dale to turn, there might not even have to be a trial. Luther might realize he needed to plead guilty.
Landon rushed off in the direction Dale had run, toward the elevators. But he hadn’t waited for one of them. The door to the stairwell clicked as it closed, drawing Landon’s attention there. He shoved it open to the echoing of footsteps striking against the steps.
He ran down those stairs, trying to catch up with Dale. The man was bleeding from the wound Jocelyn had inflicted. A couple of times Landon slipped on droplets of blood and nearly fell. “Dale, stop!” he yelled after the man. “You need help.”