by Peggy Jaeger
“What are you doing here, Bannerman?”
She’d mentally braced herself for the inevitable physical jolt whenever their gazes locked. He turned his attention to her, and like a mesmerist, his eyes zeroed in, his stare so complete, so consuming, her feet glued themselves to the carpeting.
“Abigail.”
The mocking tone snapped her spine straight. How could he be so God-awful condescending without saying anything rude, and so heart-stoppingly sexy at the same time? It wasn’t fair. Or right. Or any other word she could pull from her internal lexicon.
“You’re looking—” His eyes trailed down her face, across her torso, lingering on the area below her waist for a beat, then casting down to her shoes before rising to meet her eyes again. “—very professional today.”
His mouth pulled up at one corner, and his lids slid down a few notches as he regarded her.
“It’s a professional office,” she snapped back. “Again, what are you doing here? And please don’t tell me,” she added before he could speak, “it’s because Josh sent you to check up on me.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
Damn it!
Abby pouted. “I knew Kandy wouldn’t let it rest.” She squeezed her temples with the span of her index finger and thumb. “It was nothing. Really.”
“Obviously, your sister didn’t agree. She and Josh are worried about you.”
“They shouldn’t be.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And you shouldn’t be here. I don’t need protection, or whatever else it is Josh sent you here for. I’m fine.”
“That point’s still debatable, but”—he held up a hand to stop her from saying what she’d been about to—“your safety isn’t the reason I’m here. Do you have some free time? I need to talk to you about a case I’ve got.”
Surprised, Abby glanced down at her watch. “A little. I’ve got a client coming.”
“Oh, Abby, about that,” Verna said. “Lila Genocardi called a few minutes ago. She got tagged into work and can’t make her appointment. She asked to reschedule it.”
“Did you?”
“No. I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Don’t, then. I’ll go see her at the coffee shop when I’m finished here. I don’t want to wait on this. Her husband will be released tomorrow, so I want her to know her options.”
“Will do.”
Abby spared Rick a blank glance. “Come into my office.”
“Ladies.” Rick smiled.
Abby bit back her annoyance when Phoebe sighed, something the strong-willed and fierce African-American paralegal had never done in her presence before.
“What do you want?” Abby settled behind her desk instead of the comfortable couch. She wanted the physical barrier between them. Needed it. Just being in the same room with him scrambled her brain.
Rick cocked an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t refuse something cold to drink.”
Abby took a calming breath. She offered a bottled water to everyone who came into her office for an appointment. Having Rick sitting in her client chair, looking about as innocent as a ravenous lion eyeing a plump gazelle, had tossed all her social graces into the garbage.
After she took one from the small office refrigerator and handed it to him, she willed her nerves to settle.
“So,” she said. “What’s up?”
“Josh’s mom has a friend whose sister recently died under questionable circumstances.”
The lawyer in Abby perked up. “What kind of questionable circumstances?”
While he gave her a quick rundown, she grabbed one of the dozens of legal pads she had stored in her desk and a pencil and began making notes.
“So, she doesn’t have a history of drinking. As far from it as possible, it seems, and yet she dies with an empty bottle of booze in her car. You’re right. It doesn’t add up.” Her gaze ran over the pages of notations she’d made, then she glanced up from the pad. “You never mentioned the social worker’s name.”
It took him a moment to answer. “Beverly Castle.”
Something pinged at the back of Abby’s memory. “That’s familiar. I can’t place it, though.” She shook her head a few times, her eyes drifting around her office. “Why did you bring this to me? Is there some kind of connection between Castle and me?”
Again, he waited a beat before replying. “Yeah. Through your old firm, Fields and Phillips. She—”
Abby sat straight up in her chair, snapped her fingers. “That’s it. She handled some of the foster placements for the firm.”
Rick nodded.
“I remember her. Tall and railroad-track skinny. Looked like she needed a month’s sleep.”
“Everyone I interviewed said she was completely devoted to her job. To the detriment of everything else, including her private life.”
“I remember her as being very intense. Always wanting to move quickly on placements, on removing kids from neglectful or abusive home situations.” She bit down on a corner of her lip and after a second asked, “So why come to me?”
Before he could answer her, the desk phone beeped.
“Sorry. Yes, Verna?”
“A call just came in from City Hospital’s Emergency room. Lila Genocardi was attacked at work by her husband.”
“He’s out? How the hell did that happen?”
“I don’t know, but she had your name as her emergency contact, so they called here when they found your card in her purse.”
“Is she—how is she?”
“They wouldn’t give me any details.”
“I’m going over there right now.”
She disconnected and yanked her purse from a desk drawer.
“I’ve gotta go,” she told him, moving from behind the desk. “Client emergency.”
He rose from the chair in one fluid move. “I’ll drive.”
She slammed to a stop and gaped at him. “What? No. I can take a taxi.”
“My ride’s right downstairs, Abigail. It’ll be quicker than waiting for a cab. Just tell me where we’re going.”
She was all set to argue, especially when he added, “Don’t be stubborn. The quicker we get there, the quicker you can see to your client.”
Logic won over annoyance.
****
“I hate hospitals.” Rick glanced at her while they stood at the ER reception desk after she announced who she was and demanded to speak to someone about her client’s status.
“You’ve got company there,” she said. “I don’t know how Ellie stands it every day.”
“Your sister is a saint.”
“Truth.”
“Miss Laine?”
Abby nodded to the man who came up to greet them. The tag on his uniform pocket identified him as Dr. A. Himani.
“You are related to Mrs. Genocardi?”
“No. I’m her attorney and emergency contact,” Abby clarified. “Where is she? Can I see her?”
“I’m afraid not. She’s up in the OR.” The clipped cadence and precise pronunciation told Rick English wasn’t the good doctor’s primary language. “She lost a considerable amount of blood before she arrived. Several deep puncture wounds to the chest cavity. We started her on fluids and blood and shipped her up to the operating room as quick as we could.”
“Is she—” Abby swallowed, and Rick’s gut clenched at the action. “—is she going to make it?”
The doctor shook his head. “Obviously I can’t give you a prognosis at the moment. The cardiac surgeon needs to see how much damage was done. But she is young and apparently in good health. Both those factors weigh heavily in her favor.”
Abby blew out a breath.
“I understand she was attacked by her husband.”
“Estranged husband,” she said. “She’d taken out a restraining order on him. He wasn’t supposed to be able to get to her. I don’t know how this could have happened.”
Abby slammed her lips together, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Rick kept his eye on her as she dragged i
n a huge breath, gave her head a little shake, and forced the tears down.
“Unfortunately,” Himani said, “it does. Too many times. Does she have any family we can notify? She was unconscious when she was brought in, and the nursing staff could find no other contact number except yours.”
“She has a sister.” Abby tapped her cell phone and gave the doctor the information. “Lila has a son, as well, and I just this moment realized he’s probably still at school. I need to have him notified and brought here.”
“Please, excuse me,” Himani said when his name rang out from the nurse’s station. “You can wait on the eighth floor in the visitor’s lounge if you would like. I don’t know how long Mrs. Genocardi will be in surgery, but that would be the best place to find any further information regarding her status.”
Abby thanked him.
With her phone still in her hand, she said, “I’ve got to get to her son. Make sure he’s safe.”
“I can get him for you,” he offered.
Her eyes widened. After a moment, she shook her head. “He doesn’t know you, and neither does anyone at his school. He does know Verna, though. If she can—” She stopped, holding up a finger to him.
Abby told whoever answered why she was calling. Rick’s heart literally missed a beat when her face went white, and she asked, “What? When?”
Her gaze froze on the floor in front of her.
When she asked, “Do you have any idea where they were going?” Rick knew the news wasn’t good.
“Yes, there’s a problem.” Her voice rose several decibels. “Joseph Genocardi stabbed his wife, and she’s in an operating room fighting for her life, while you’ve handed her son to the man who attacked her. I’d say that qualifies as a problem. A big one.”
Rick took the phone from her hand.
“Easy, Abigail.” He made his voice low, his pitch deep and hushed. With his gaze still on her, he took over the conversation, after first identifying himself.
The boy had been picked up by his father less than a half hour before, claiming he had a doctor’s appointment his mother had neglected to mention to the school. Abby stood next to him, silently fuming while he spoke.
“We need to notify the police,” Rick said as he ended the call.
“Probably the FBI, too. I can see Genocardi crossing state lines with his son to get away. I—”
“Abby?”
They both turned as a man strode down the hallway toward them. His bearing and the focused way he approached them told Rick he was a cop.
“Tony. What are you doing here?” Abby asked, receiving the man’s hug as naturally as if she did it every day.
“Lila Genocardi. She’s your client?”
“Yes. Are you working the stabbing?”
“Yeah. I got called to the scene right after. Husband’s in the wind. We’ve got an APB out on him and his car.”
Rick shot out his hand when the guy glanced over at him. “Rick Bannerman,” he said.
“Anthony Pecorrini.” He returned the handshake with vigor.
“Tony’s a detective with the 6th precinct,” Abby told him, then said, “Genocardi took his son.” She explained the conversation she’d had with the boy’s school.
“Shit. This changes everything.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you have a picture of the kid? Or a description you can give me?”
Abby gave him Michael’s particulars. “The nursing staff has Lila’s purse. Maybe she has a picture in her wallet.”
“I’ll go ask. I’ve gotta call this in and get out an Amber alert.” He walked away from them, cell phone at his ear.
“One of your boyfriends?” Rick asked.
Abby pinched her bottom lip between her index finger and thumb, something he’d noticed her do whenever she was deep in thought.
“What? Who, Tony? Good God, no. His mother is one of the partners at my old law firm. Listen, give me my phone. I need to call Verna.”
While talking she paced back and forth, her eyes darting to and fro, lighting on the medical personnel filling the area. He was convinced she didn’t even see them. Ending the call, she glanced up as Pecorrini approached them again.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” he said to her. “Took a picture from her wallet and sent it. Any idea where he’d take the kid? Where they’d be heading?”
“None. He doesn’t have any family in the area, and Lila told me his closest living relative is a cousin in Florida. They don’t interact, though, so I can’t see him running there. But”—she lifted her hands and shoulders—“who knows.”
“I amended the APB to include the son, in addition to the Amber. Kid’s gotta be terrified.”
“He’s barely eight and small for his age,” Abby said, her brows pulling in. “Whenever he’s been in my office with his mother, he’s been quiet and shy. She swears her husband only hit the boy one time, but the man is filled with rage. He could hurt Michael.”
“Let’s hope we catch him before that ever happens.”
Rick had to stifle the growl shoving up from deep in his chest when Pecorrini clasped Abby’s upper arm and squeezed.
“What I don’t understand is how he got out,” Abby said. “I was assured he’d be locked up for at least forty-eight hours, and in less than twenty-four, he’s released and able to do this. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Overcrowding,” the detective said, folding his hands into his trouser pockets, disgusted resignation crossing his face. “Happens all the time. There’s not enough space to house everyone who needs to be off the streets.”
“That’s bullshit,” Rick said. “The guy had a TRO from the wife, which should have been enough to keep him out of circulation. What about the fact he burst into Abby’s office and physically threatened her? That alone should have ensured he wasn’t released.”
“I hear ya, man. The system sucks. Listen…” He turned his attention back to Abby. “I’ve gotta get back to the precinct, see what progress is being made. You gonna hang here?”
“At least until Lila is out of surgery. The ER doc is notifying her sister. I’m sure she’s going to come here to wait as well. I’d like to be here for her. For both of them.”
“Okay. I’ve got your number. I’ll keep you updated on what happens.”
With one arm, he grabbed her into a side hug and stuck out his hand to Rick. “Nice meeting you. Sorry it’s under such lousy circumstances. Stay safe,” he told them.
“He’s a good cop,” Abby said, her eyes tracking his retreat down the hallway. She turned to Rick. “He’ll find Genocardi. I’m sure of it.”
For her sake, as well her client’s, he hoped she was correct.
“I’m going to go up to the eighth floor. Wait until Lila is out of surgery.”
“Let’s go.”
When she didn’t immediately follow him to the elevator, he stopped and turned back to her. “What?”
“Thanks for the ride, Bannerman, but you don’t have to stick around. I’m sure you’ve got work to do. You don’t need to be here.”
Slowly, purposefully, Rick walked back to her, his gaze never wavering from hers. “I’m gonna have to disagree.”
Her eyes narrowed, and the subtle flair of her nostrils should have been warning enough, but he didn’t care. The fact that those little annoyed facial expressions turned him on in ways he couldn’t begin to understand told him to tread carefully.
“Think it through,” he said. “Genocardi’s already tried to kill his wife and has taken his kid. He’s on the run. Who knows what kind of mindset he’s in. He could be planning to attack you next.”
“That’s ridiculous.” She dismissed the statement with a swipe of her hand.
“Is it?” Rick moved closer, so close she was forced to tilt her head back. She could have taken a step or two backward, but Rick knew she’d consider retreating a weakness. “Who’s been guiding his wife in her attempt to leave him? Who was able to get the TRO? Whose office did he burst into, threatening phys
ical harm?”
Her gaze may never have wavered from his, but he knew the words hit home when her lips suddenly paled and her shoulders tensed.
“That makes no sense.” The slight hitch in her voice proved she was considering it, though. “Why would he go after me? He should be concentrating on getting his son away. Getting them both away.”
“I agree. But that’s the logical part of our brains working. He might not be thinking the same way, may be letting emotions and irrational thoughts rule his actions. You’ve been a bug up his ass where his wife is concerned. Men like him don’t take it lightly when a woman interferes in their business. So, despite your aversion to the idea, I’m sticking with you, Abigail.”
“I hate when you call me that,” she said automatically.
Ah, here was the strong-willed Abby he knew. He’d rather she be irritated with him than frightened. “And still…”
“I’m a little old for a babysitter, Bannerman.” Her eyes practically closed as she glared at him through the slits.
Negotiation had always been his strong point—in business and personally—and he wasn’t averse to playing to a person’s weakness if needed.
“Do you think once Kandy hears about your client she’s not gonna make Josh send someone over to keep an eye on you? You don’t know your sister if you think she won’t.”
“She doesn’t have to know about this. It doesn’t concern her.”
“Wrong. Everything about you and your sisters concerns Kandy. I’ve been around you all enough to know it. Josh does as well. There’s no way he’d leave you unprotected with a maniac like Genocardi running around.”
She scrunched her lips and bit down on the inside of her cheek. “You don’t have to tell her, you know.”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
Her mouth fell open.
“If you listen to reason.”
And then slammed shut again.
“And by listening to reason,” she said, scorn infusing her words, “you mean allow you to hover over me until Genocardi is caught, don’t you?”
“Best of both worlds.” He smirked and lifted his shoulders. “I keep an eye on you, make sure this guy doesn’t get close; you keep your pregnant sister from losing sleep over your safety. Seems like a win-win to me.”