by Desiree Holt
Blaze cocked an eyebrow. “I have to admit, this definitely sounds more than a little weird.”
“I had all that trouble getting a copy of the police report. When I did, I was stunned that it had nothing of use in it.” She rubbed her forehead. “They must think I am very dumb.”
“I agree what they told you is a crock of shit.”
“That’s why I wouldn’t leave it alone. As a matter of fact, they weren’t even going to print out a copy of the report for me until I threatened to get an attorney. I mean, a traffic accident report? Get real. Here. Tell me what you think of it. My grocery list gives more information.” She took it out of her purse and handed it to him, watching as he studied it in silence.
He shook his head. “This tells you nothing. Did you point that out?”
“I might as well have saved my breath. They kept saying they were very sorry but that was all the information they had. They’re very good at expressing condolences but not so much at giving straight answers.” She took a deep, calming breath. Falling apart wouldn’t help this situation. “Dane was buried the week after I got here. We had to have his funeral without Brianne there.”
“That’s tough.”
“As I mentioned earlier, Dane’s parents couldn’t wait any longer. They were just so destroyed by the whole thing and no one knows if or when my sister will wake from the coma. They needed to bury their son. His father wanted to sue the police, but I think it was just empty talk on his part.”
“Do they live here?” Blaze asked.
“South of here, in Sarasota. They took Dane back there to be buried because—” Peyton stopped and pulled in a breath. “Because obviously no one knows at this point if my sister will even wake up or what shape she’ll be in. It was so depressing going through the house with them so they could pick out clothes for him to be buried in.” She rubbed her face. “I don’t think I’ll ever get the memories of that funeral out of my mind. And how am I going to tell Brianne if we’re lucky and she does come out of this?”
If only she could wake up and this was all a very bad dream.
“They have to be devastated.”
“They are. Apparently, they were very close. I insisted they take the time to pick out any of his things they wanted to keep as mementos, but they said they’d wait for Brianne. They were sure she’d want a lot of his things.”
“That was very kind of them.”
“They’re very nice people,” she agreed.
“So no one’s followed up on it since then?” Blaze asked the question again. “The police aren’t doing any more?”
“You’re kidding, right?” She waved a hand in the air. “They’re pissed off at me and just want to be done with the whole thing. They have no way to identify the driver because the pictures are blurry. They did their best, everyone is sorry, but just go away and leave them alone. According to the report, there wasn’t even anyone who could describe the car. If they interviewed anyone, they all had to be stupid or brainless or…” She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture, then let them drop.
“Or bought off,” Blaze finished for her.
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
She narrowed her eyes. “If you ask me, I think there’s a huge conspiracy in place here. A big coverup. But I’m just one person with little power, which is why I can’t get anywhere.”
He was quiet for a moment, studying her. “You may be right. A hot young attorney gets run down, he dies, and his wife is left in a coma. You’d think people would be burning the midnight oil to find whoever did it.”
“Yes.” His tone of voice had been very noncommittal. “You’d think.”
“I take it you’re not leaving it alone, though.”
She shook her head. “No, nor do I intend to. I want justice for my sister. And for Dane. That may be all I can ever give her from now on.” She set the empty coffee cup on the tray table.
“I understand.”
“What would you do if you were me?” She paused, as if gathering herself. “This is the situation. No one can identify the driver. Nobody has come forward with any information except the paramedic, who gave it very reluctantly. Now she seems to have disappeared, along with the traffic cop. And everyone from the police to the law firm Dane worked for keeps telling me to focus on getting my sister well and letting Dane rest in peace. Don’t create stories where there aren’t any.”
Blaze took a swallow of coffee then set the cup down.
“I’m sure I’m not the first person you’ve come to about this. Galaxy is rarely first in line on anything.”
“You get the impossibles, right? But yes, I tried to hire three different private investigators, all with excellent references and credentials. Each one in turn said they’d check into it, then after just a few days returned my retainer. They politely assured me Tampa has an excellent police force that had done its work and was as baffled by the situation as everyone else. Of course, they didn’t mention who the ‘everyone else’ is. They just said sometimes things like this happen, they were sorry about Dane and I should concentrate on helping my sister get better. Same old, same old.”
Needing to do something with her hands, she picked up her coffee cup to take a sip, but all that was left were dregs, so she set it back down.
Blaze was silent for a long moment while he studied the report in his hands.
Peyton would have given every penny in her purse and then some to know what he was thinking at that moment.
“What still puzzles me, just as it confuses you,” he said at last, “is how not one person could accurately describe the car. I know it happened fast, but not everyone is shell-shocked stupid. Someone had to see something that registered, even if just for a few seconds. You said there were others leaving the restaurant, plus the guy in the parking lot. Why wasn’t anyone suspicious at the similarities in the stories? I can understand a couple of people not looking into it, but all of them? The more I think about it, the more I get the idea there’s more going on here that we don’t know.”
“That’s the thing that keeps eating at me. And believe me, it’s not for my lack of trying to get answers. I think if I showed up at the police station again or pestered—well, tried to pester—city officials, they might have me arrested.”
“How much of this does Nolan know?”
She shrugged. “Probably more than I should have told him. We talked several times whenever he came in to check on Brianne. Or maybe I should say I ran off at the mouth. I spent a lot of time in the chair next to my sister’s bed and he was the only other human I saw for more than two minutes at a time. He’s a good listener.”
“That he is. The reason I ask is because it’s unusual for him to send someone to me. He must have really connected with your sister and the situation.”
“I think he did.” She nodded. “He’s really great. Very caring. Very patient-oriented. I think he gave me your number after seeing me sit beside her bed for so many hours and destroying myself because nothing about the accident made sense and nothing was being done. That’s where I am at the moment and why I’m here.”
Peyton leaned back, limp, as if all the air had suddenly left her body. She’d been carrying this with her from the moment she’d walked into the hospital and seem Brianne lying in bed, so still, barely breathing. Rage and shock had helped her keep it together so far, along with a need to be strong for her sister and Dane’s parents. But sitting here, in the ultimate in luxury aircraft, with a man who was her last hope, she felt herself fraying badly around the edges.
She studied Blaze Hamilton’s face, trying to read what was going through his mind. Did he think she was a nutcase? Obsessive? Imagining things? A maniac chasing ghosts? She’d exhausted all her options. If he said no to her, she had no idea where she’d go next.
He rose and lifted her coffee cup. “Let me get you a refill.”
Was he softening her up to tell her no? In any event, she realized she needed the caffeine to keep herself going. When
he was seated on the couch again, holding his own cup, he studied her again for a long moment. She was ready to jump out of her skin but forced herself to sit still and wait out Blaze Hamilton’s silent assessment of her.
“I’m so tired of banging my head against a wall trying to get information. And angry. I am so damn angry.” She accepted the fresh coffee. “I just want to get at the truth. Is that so wrong of me?”
Blaze shook his head. “Not at all. Everyone deserves the truth.”
“There’s one other thing. I don’t know if it relates to this at all.” She told him about Dane and the pictures Brianne had taken. “All she said was he thought he might know the people, but he wasn’t sure. Now I’m thinking those photos might somehow figure in all of this. But I have no idea who was in those shots, where they were taken and why, and my sister never mentioned it again.”
“She’s a commercial photographer, right? Maybe it had to do with one of her clients.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But why would it upset Dane?”
“Good question. And she never mentioned it again?”
“No. Not a word. Well, that’s it. That’s all I can tell you.” She took a slow sip of the coffee, pulled herself together and studied him. “What do you think?”
He leaned forward, a serious expression on his face, his intent gaze on her. In the telling of her story, she’d forgotten for the moment how electric his presence was and how her body responded. What an inappropriate time for her sleeping hormones to decide to wake up. She just hoped he wouldn’t notice, since she was doing her best to control herself as she waited for his answer.
“I think you got royally screwed,” he said at last. “I did a search on the accident and found very little on it. Dane’s obituary was longer than the news items.”
“I know, right? Weird, although it wasn’t the biggest news item of the week.”
“Just another part of the puzzle. I think—no, strike that—I’m sure we’re going to sign you on as a client. Something stinks to high heaven here and going through regular channels accomplishes nothing, as you’ve found out. If someone is covering something up, especially if they’ve been paid to do it, that’s a hard wall to break through. The thing is to find out why.”
“So, you’ll take this on? Nolan also said you and your partners really like to cherry pick your cases.”
“We do because we can afford to. We decided that right from the beginning. I’ll have to run this past them, but we have never turned away a client when one of us gave approval. We know what kind of cases all of us will get into.”
Relief surged through her. She had to restrain herself from throwing her arms around him. Then she remembered her other concern.
“This will sound stupid, but I have no idea what your fees are. Nolan didn’t tell me and I was just so glad he was sending me to someone who might help me, I didn’t even think to ask. I can handle anything reasonable.” She flashed a tiny grin. “Or even unreasonable, as long as it’s not too far over the line. I do quite well as a published author, but—”
He held up a hand. “We can negotiate to whatever you’re comfortable with. We won’t bankrupt you. I can promise you that. We’re lucky to be in a situation where we can be flexible now and then. And you definitely need our help. That’s obvious. Something smells to hell here, and I want to find out what it is.”
“Thank you.” She wetted her lips. “I can’t tell you—”
He shook his head. “No need to. But we have some work to do. I’m going to get some fresh pastries from the galley. And would you like wine rather than coffee? I’m sure telling the story again took a lot out of you.”
“Thank you again. And yes, wine would be nice. But…” She paused. “We’re going to talk up here?”
His grin would have turned her inside out if she weren’t such an emotional wreck.
“Best place for an office. No one can overhear anything. Let me fetch the goodies and we’ll get started.”
Chapter Three
Blaze studied the woman across from him as she slowly chewed the pastry and sipped her wine. At first blush, he’d assumed she was like any other uptight client facing an emergency that they needed help to handle. She looked so tightly strung, struggling to keep it together, he was afraid she might break apart at any moment. But then he took a closer look and saw that along with the fine tension running through her was a healthy dose of anger. He was sure it was the latter that made her posture so rigid, even seated, and the muscles in her jaw so tight he thought the bone would crack. There was definitely a lot more to this story than she’d told him, otherwise Nolan wouldn’t have sent her to him. He’d have to ease it out of her little by little, put the pieces together.
This wasn’t exactly a high-concept case like a hostage rescue or finding a company executive who’d disappeared along with a hefty portion of company funds. But they’d decided at the outset that they’d consider cases where the usual avenues either didn’t work or had already been explored with no results. This was even worse, because it looked like there was a massive coverup.
He had a really bad feeling about it. On the surface, someone could write it off as a drunk losing control and not even registering two people crossing in front of him. If that was the case, why not pursue it further, find the drunk driver and stick him in jail? Cops didn’t write off hit and run as a practice. Oh, sure, it took a lot more work, especially if no one had any idea who the driver was. Still, Blaze had seen situations with less information than this being pursued.
If this turned out to be a massive coverup, he could be sure there was power and money involved and people who would stop at nothing to protect what was theirs. How in the fucking hell did someone like Peyton West and her family get mixed up in that kind of stew?
Just to complicate things, he was still fighting the attraction that had blasted through him the moment he saw her. It wasn’t just unprofessional. It was completely unexpected and he had to figure out a way to deal with it. Here was where he hoped his SEAL discipline would help him, because he seemed to be on the verge of breaking his own rules. He hadn’t been this close to losing his discipline since he was sixteen years old. He was just damn glad his partners couldn’t see him now. They’d yank his balls out and roll them down the runway. No playing with the clients was a hard-and-fast rule.
Shit.
A little color had come into her face now and her hands were a little steadier. He’d been afraid when she unclenched them each time she picked up the coffee cup that she’d drop it, but the wine was settling her. Nolan had told him he was not optimistic about the outcome for the sister, but he was trying everything he could think of to bring her out of the coma.
Blaze refilled Peyton’s wineglass.
“First things first. Each of us has the ability to accept a client, and whoever brings in the case is the lead on it. That means you’ll be working primarily with me. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.” She frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Just checking.” He opened his phone to the notes section. “I hate making you go through all of this again, but—”
She held up her hand. “I’ll tell it a hundred times if it means you can find out who did this and make them pay.”
“That’s what we do.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Okay, let’s go back before that night. It would be too easy to write this off as some crazy drunk behind the wheel of a car. If that was the case, everyone wouldn’t be trying so hard to cover it up. No, there has to be an underlying reason for this whole thing. Tell me about Dane. What kind of law does he practice? And how long has he been doing it?”
“Trial law. Litigation. And ten years. Since he graduated from law school.”
“Where did he get his degree?
Blaze knew that type of law could lead to any number of complicated situations. It could be manipulated in any number of ways. Someone who specialized in it certainly knew the ins and outs. What he ne
eded to find out was if Dane Hollister was a straight arrow or someone who could be persuaded to bend the law with the promise of hefty rewards. And if that had gotten him in trouble.
Was that where the problem was? Did he have a client with some funky business that he had maybe double-crossed?
“Do you know much about his clients? Anything at all?”
The look she gave him was apologetic but uncomfortable. “It just wasn’t a subject we discussed.”
Blaze shrugged. “No, it’s about what I expected. I figured if you knew more about his clients, something might have rung a bell and you’d mention it.”
“I’m not much help. I didn’t really get into that whenever I visited him and Brianne and I never discussed Dane’s clients. I mean, why would we, right?”
“I don’t know.” Blaze shrugged again. “Maybe if the three of you were having dinner or something when you visited. He might have mentioned something.”
“Oh! Yes. A couple of times we ran into a client of Dane’s, only I couldn’t tell you much about them. I just didn’t pay much attention. He did say one time that the firm handled litigation for some pretty high-profile clients.” A tiny sigh escaped her lips. “I guess I’m not much help.”
“I’ll take anything I can get. I wonder if those photos Brianne shot involved any of the firm’s clientele? Dane’s, specifically.”
She frowned as she nibbled her lower lip. “I wish I knew.”
Blaze was shocked to feel his balls tighten at the sight of it. What the fuck? Maybe he should have gone out and gotten laid before doing this, but his discipline had never failed him before. Today it was taunting him.
“No,” she said at last. “I’m sorry. It just wasn’t a subject that came up. I had the feeling that when he was away from the office, he didn’t want to discuss anything.”
“That’s okay. There are other ways to get that information.”
Peyton cocked her head. “You think there’s something with one of his clients that could be at the base of this?”