by Regan Black
Obviously she was putting out a seriously strong victim vibe, and that wasn’t at all who she was. It certainly wasn’t the type of person she wanted to be. “I’ll behave.”
His phone hummed in his pocket. Checking the display, he groaned. “I forgot. My uncle will be here in about an hour to change the lock on your front door. I notified your siblings and assured them you were fine and had it under control. I’ll check in on you throughout the day. Don’t bother getting mad about any of it.”
She laughed, but the sound was more of a rusty snort.
“Lock up behind me.” He paused at the front door, indulging in one more kiss before he walked out.
Knowing he was waiting to hear the lock tumble, she flipped the dead bolt right away. Would it make any difference to the man with a copy of her key? Fear swamped her and her knees buckled. She slid to the floor, hoping she could drag herself up again when his uncle arrived.
She pushed her hair back from her face and tugged hard until her scalp stung. The discomfort cut through the fear and she stood up. It was either sell the condo or start reclaiming it as her own. Running was the coward’s way. She would not let the person behind these attacks change her life.
She turned the fan and dehumidifier back on and then paused in the kitchen for a few careful sips of coffee. Next stop, the bedroom. She would never claim her steps were steady, but she made it to the doorway.
She expected to see remnants of the attack. The tangled sheets, the overturned lamp, the books from her nightstand she had used as weapons.
Tears dribbled down her cheek, but this time it was a wash of gratitude. Somewhere between tucking her in on the couch and making coffee this morning, Emmanuel had changed her sheets and made her bed, minus the duvet. He’d cleaned up the broken lamp and stacked her books in an orderly pile. Other than the missing lamp and duvet, everything was in its place. Her entire body relaxed; the sensation was almost as effective as having him here.
The man was a saint. She never thought to associate that term with the name Emmanuel Iglesias. From the moment she’d read the transcript of his testimony, he’d been her enemy. Now he was her partner in this convoluted pursuit of justice.
Her partner in more than that, if she was honest with herself.
Shoulders back, she marched through to her bathroom and turned on the water for a shower. Scrubbing clean again helped restore a sense of self and purpose. When she was dressed for the day in a cozy turtleneck that hid the bruises and makeup was deftly applied to blur the signs of her rough night, she took a cup of coffee into her office.
The original plan was for her to work from home while she waited for the approval on the Capital X loan application. The break-in and attack had cost her enough time and confidence. Anna was counting on her to make real progress, and fast.
Every minute alone, despite the precautions, her agitation grew until it was an itch down to her bones. It was ridiculous to look over her shoulder in her home. She had to stay until the lock was repaired, but she couldn’t work here all day. She’d just come back when the cleaning crew was ready to reclaim their equipment.
Technically she needed to open the computer only long enough to check the progress on the application and look for the approval email. Still alone, she opened her floor safe and withdrew the laptop. It booted within moments, and she confirmed there were no issues with her application. She just had to wait. She’d locked it away again when her phone rang.
Glancing at the caller ID, she saw it was Elizabeth. It was tempting to ignore the call and send her friend to voice mail, but that would only delay the inevitable. “Good morning, Elizabeth,” she answered brightly to hide the rasp in her voice.
“I know I’m being a pain,” Elizabeth said. “But is there any news?”
Since last night? Pippa stroked the soft fabric of her cashmere turtleneck, searching for patience. “Nothing definitive,” she said, thinking of Emmanuel’s theory. “It takes time, but as I said last night, we are making progress.”
“Be honest, Pippa. Do you really think you can get her out?”
Pippa reminded herself that Elizabeth was a good friend. Her best friend, in fact. But she couldn’t offer any guarantees. She had to stop and sip her coffee to soothe her throat. “Every step forward gets us a little closer.” That much was true.
“Thank you.” Elizabeth sighed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
It gave her a boost to hear those words. “I do understand. You’re worried, and I know this is urgent.” Even more so now that Anna was taking RevitaYou.
“I’m going to see her again today,” Elizabeth said. “At this rate, I might be better off buying a place near the prison.”
“Don’t go looking at real estate just yet,” Pippa said.
“I don’t trust the prison to tell me if she gets sick off that junk she’s taking. She claims the supplement is offsetting the lousy food. You’d think prison would be a wake-up call, but she’s as appearance focused as ever.”
Despite everything, Pippa laughed. “When it comes to your mother, I wouldn’t expect sweeping changes. She’s far from typical, and you love her for it.”
“True enough,” Elizabeth said. “What’s wrong with your voice?”
“Just allergies,” she fibbed.
“Uck. I’m sorry my high from yesterday didn’t last long.”
Pippa searched for reassuring words. The police certainly hadn’t been inclined to help her. Everyone on the jury was willing to think the worst of Anna. She wanted to meet with her client and ask the questions no one bothered to ask the first time around. “Has she talked at all about Hicks’s connections? It’s possible he confided in her about someone else wanting to hurt him.”
“No,” Elizabeth replied. “It’s on my list of topics to tackle today. She is a little more approachable these days. Or maybe it seems that way because she can’t dash off on her own agenda. Most days she seems genuinely happy to see me.”
That was a different kind of progress all together and one long overdue in Pippa’s opinion. Anna was never a touchy-feely kind of mother, though she was devoted to Elizabeth in her own way.
“I’ll keep up the visits,” Elizabeth said. “Maybe they’re doing some group-therapy thing. It can’t be the RevitaYou that’s giving me a nicer version of mom lately.”
Pippa chuckled. “I’m sure it’s not.”
“I’ll let you get back to work. Take care of those allergies.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep you posted,” Pippa promised as they ended the call.
In the silence that followed, Pippa’s skin started to crawl. Thankfully, Emmanuel’s uncle showed up. While he worked, she admitted defeat and packed a bag to go to the office as soon as he was finished. Better to make some progress there than stew over all the things she couldn’t control here.
Once the new lock was in and working, and programmed, she paid for both new locks. Then she notified Emmanuel and let him tell the teams about her change in plans. She made it to the car without hyperventilating, and as she drove out of the lot, she decided that being in the car gave her a good reason to look over her shoulder.
On the short drive across town, she got a call from Kiely and answered using her voice commands.
Naturally the car didn’t recognize her voice, and the call went to voice mail. Her sister called back immediately, and Pippa tried again—and failed again—to pick up. She listened to the voice mail as soon as it came through.
“Hey, Pippa. Just checking in on you. On you, not the case,” Kiely clarified. “Griffin told us there was more trouble at your condo overnight. Call me back when you get this.”
Pippa unwrapped a hard candy to soothe her throat, sucking on it for the duration of the drive. When she was parked in her space at the office, she called Kiely back.
“Pippa!” Kiely sounded relieved.
&
nbsp; “Hi,” she croaked.
“Oh, no. What happened?” Unlike Elizabeth, her sister picked up on the trouble in her voice immediately. Pippa reminded herself she was thankful for a big family. “If I told you I had a cold, would you believe me?”
“Not a chance. You’re never sick,” Kiely replied.
“Well, first of all, other than the voice and a few bruises, I’m perfectly okay,” Pippa assured her. “There was another break-in, yes.” Best to give Kiely the facts only. “We did not catch the intruder, and the GRPD has all the available evidence at their lab.”
“We?” Kiely had that tone, the one Pippa knew she couldn’t avoid. “Was someone staying over?”
“For a private investigator, you pick up on the wrong details,” Pippa said. “And you’re completely off track.”
“Stop dodging the question.”
“I said we as it refers to the protective detail Detective Iglesias assigned to watch the condo.” It was only half a lie. A fib, really, and mostly for the sake of privacy.
“They did a lousy job if an intruder got past them,” Kiely pointed out. “I’m coming over.”
“Then turn around. I’m at the office.” It was probably a good idea. “Come to the office anyway. The lock at my front door is completely new. There’s no key option. And I have your new code.”
She chose to wait at the car rather than face her sister in the office, where they might be overheard. Opening the app on her new door lock, she used the remote option to set a code for Kiely. The rest of her siblings would have to knock for a while.
Kiely parked and hurried to Pippa’s car. Naturally her sister saw straight through the makeup and clothing as she climbed out from the driver’s seat. “Pippa! What happened? You look like hell.” She pulled Pippa in for a gentle hug.
“Thanks. I feel worse.”
“Then go home,” Kiely said. “Oh. I get that.”
Pippa was grateful she didn’t have to say a word for her twin to understand the higher stress of staying home. “The attack last night was direct. Emmanuel called it attempted murder when he gave his statement. No real damage to the condo, just me.” She pulled down her turtleneck, showing the bruises on her throat. “At least I can talk today.”
“If sandpaper could talk, maybe.”
Pippa chuckled, then coughed. Just telling the watered-down version of the story face-to-face made her feel weak. She cleared her throat.
Kiely straightened her collar. “You need a security system.”
“I had electronic locks in a secure building. I have better smart locks now. With a doorbell camera.” Pippa didn’t explain Emmanuel’s role in the quick and expert lock service.
“Good.” Kiely looked to the office, then at some point behind Pippa’s shoulder. It was all she could do to stand there and not panic. “You have to let the Wentworth case go,” Kiely declared.
That was the last thing Pippa expected to hear. “You know I can’t do that.” Her throat burned, but she wouldn’t let Kiely run roughshod over her life and career. “I won’t drop a case or unpopular client just because things get dicey.”
Kiely sighed heavily. “I know.” She smiled. “Can’t blame a sister for trying. At the very least you have to bring in some sort of personal protection.”
“A bodyguard?” Pippa rolled her eyes. “Griffin already did that.”
Kiely laughed. “The detective?”
Pippa nodded. “I should get inside and do some real work. Can we talk about this more later?”
“You’re into him,” Kiely stated. Then she beamed. “Tell me everything.”
“Stop.” Pippa wanted to smack that look off her sister’s face. “This is not the time or place.”
“Fine. But I will find out. From you or another reliable source.” Kiely pulled her keys from her pocket. “Any word on the other case?”
“Still early, but you and Riley will be the first to know.”
“Sounds good.” She gave her another hug. “Call me if you need anything. And don’t overdo it.”
Pippa wanted to be snarky, but between her sore throat and her sister quickly dashing back to her car, the opportunity was missed. She hauled everything into the office and settled in behind her desk. She felt so much better here than at home.
In the privacy of her office, she pulled out the laptop for Alison Carrington and checked on the email account. No alerts from Capital X, only a customer service survey from the store where Kiely had purchased the laptop.
Satisfied she couldn’t do more on that front, Pippa shut down the alias’s laptop and stowed it back in her bag under her desk. Then she resumed her search for the real killer in the Hicks case. How close could she get to Leigh McRath without alerting the father? Pippa reviewed all of the personal details she had on Hicks. According to the prosecutor, Anna had been jealous of a different lover as well as threatened by his blackmail attempt.
No other lover was ever identified in the court proceedings, but the prosecutor only needed to create doubt. Hicks had a reputation as a player in high society, and that had been verified over and over again with a parade of witnesses that Anna had glowered at during the trial. Hicks’s credit card history backed up an active and extravagant dating life. It seemed as if he blackmailed one lover to finance lavish dates and entertainment with another.
Definitely a slimeball, although handsome enough and connected enough to tempt Anna. She adored handsome men; moreover, she thrived on being the center of attention. Pippa wondered if anyone from his family would speak with her about his social life. It wasn’t exactly a breach of protocol, and Emmanuel couldn’t be the only one taking risks here.
She reached for the phone just as her older brother Griffin filled the office doorway. His expression was thunderous. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
“I beg your pardon.” Thanks to the sore throat, she couldn’t work up a proper snippy tone. “This is a place of business,” she said. “You’re out of line.”
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Rather than take a seat in a visitor’s chair, he rounded to her side of the desk, crouching in front of her. The temper brewing in his eyes softened to concern. “Show me.”
“You’re not my boss or my doctor.”
“Technically, I’m sort of your boss.”
She latched on to the only excuse she could think of. “This is related to a situation that you are not the boss of.”
“Pippa. Show me.”
She wanted to argue, but her throat hurt. He’d get his way eventually. “It will only make you mad.”
“I’m already mad.” He rested his hands lightly on her knees. “Come on. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“Then I definitely shouldn’t show you.”
“Stop talking like a lawyer.” His lips twitched. “I mopped the floor with you in debate club.”
“That was high school.” He’d been two years ahead of her and far more experienced. “Only once.”
“I need to know that you’re okay.”
“It’s not enough that I’m sitting right here, the picture of health?”
“Your voice sounds like you’re chewing gravel even when you’re speaking softly.”
Resisting wasn’t going to get him out of her way, and she had work to do for Anna and Elizabeth. Choosing efficiency, she drew the turtleneck down so he could see the marks on her neck.
Griffin cursed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault.” She adjusted her sweater and stiffened her spine. “I appreciate your concern, but this has no bearing on you as a protective big brother or CI partner.” She shooed him back to the other side of the desk. If this concerned-brother routine went on much longer, she might burst into tears, and that would be a disaster.
“Did you see a doctor?” Griffin asked.
“No need
. The paramedics checked me over.”
“Let’s get you a protective detail.”
“You already did that,” she said. “And before you suggest it, I’m not walking around in bubble wrap, body armor, or with a full entourage of bulky men in dark suits and sunglasses. Detective Iglesias and his unmarked cars are enough.”
Griffin’s lips tilted at one corner. “What about stretchy velvet tracksuits and sunglasses? You can choose the color they wear.”
“Get out of my office,” she said, thoroughly exasperated. If he was cracking jokes, he was confident she’d survive.
“I thought Emmanuel could handle this,” Griffin muttered.
“He did.” She felt heat creeping into her cheeks.
Without Emmanuel she would not be sitting here today. She’d be in a hospital bed at the very least, more likely the morgue if the intruder had had his way. None of that was safe to say around her brother. She hadn’t mentioned it, not even to Emmanuel, but she’d recognized the deadly intent in the man’s breath, not just his grip.
“Emmanuel said you didn’t get a description of the assailant.” Griffin shoved his hands into his pockets.
Of course they’d talked in detail. “Emmanuel and the responding officers had better notes about his size and build. All I saw was the black ski mask, gloves and coat.”
Griffin sank into a chair. “I heard. I came over hoping to get more to go on.”
“Trust me, I’d love to give you more, but the man wasn’t kind enough to attack me in daylight without a mask.”
“Riley and I talked. It’s best if you move back into the house until this blows over.”
“No.” She wanted to shout and yell at her brother for being an idiot. Out of respect for the resulting pain, she checked the urge. She smiled instead, an expression she knew her brother would recognize as false. “I’m an adult. My home and the new safety measures in place are sufficient.” How could she explain that if she left, she’d only be more afraid to return? “And I’m staying on the Wentworth case until that innocent woman is out of jail.”