Reckless

by Selena Montgomery

  “So what happened?”

  “My moral code did battle with my partnership agreement. I’m not sure which one won.”

  “He doesn’t want you defending Eliza?”

  “David didn’t mind my client detour at first, but—”

  “But what?”

  “He wasn’t happy, but he understood. Until I told him I wasn’t returning to Atlanta to take over the case that can make our firm a household name.”

  He understood instantly. “Your firm picked up the Marley case?” he asked, impressed despite himself. “Every defense firm in the country is going to chase that one.”

  “And she picked us.” Restive, Kell withdrew her hand from his and rose. She walked to the window seat and flicked at the drapes that had been drawn against the afternoon sun. “I refused to come back for the arraignment.”

  Luke watched the jerky movements, concerned. “Because of Eliza.”

  She clenched the fabric, outrage warring with disappointment. “David considers my refusal to come to Atlanta a breach of our partnership agreement. He threatened to serve me with termination papers.”

  “It’s your firm,” Luke protested. “He can’t simply kick you out.”

  Grudgingly, she admitted, “I’d do the same to him if our positions were reversed. This case is my personal crusade. It won’t help the firm. I’m putting my whims first.”

  “Protecting someone you love?”

  “Yes.”

  A fact that disturbed her more than she expected, Luke judged. He gained his feet and followed her to the window. Resisting the urge to touch, he reached past her to open the shades. Twilight dappled the magnolia tree that dominated the view. A scent rose from her skin, lighter than he’d expected, though he knew the scent by heart. Not the floral of a garden, but a crisp fragrance that teased his senses with its directness and undertone of sensuality. How appropriate, he acknowledged wryly. “Are you going to fight him?”

  “How?” She’d grappled with that all evening. “I drafted the agreement. He’s on perfectly solid ground. We have to agree on major cases, and a retainer like Marley’s would certainly take precedence. I know because I wrote the agreement.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, ‘oh.’ I’m making the choice to stay here rather than earn a million-dollar retainer.”

  “Why?”

  She turned to him now, her eyes direct and level. “Because I believe Eliza is innocent. I don’t think she had anything to do with Clay’s death.”

  “I want to believe you. Believe her.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, noting the play of muscle beneath his touch. She was strong, tense. “Let me talk to her.”

  “I can’t do that, Luke. She’s my client, not yours.” Kell shifted into attorney mode, grateful to leave behind the sentimental woman who welcomed a shoulder to cry on. “Until I’m satisfied that you’ve exhausted all other leads, I’m going to advise her to not speak with you.”

  “You’re perilously close to a line neither one of us wants crossed,” Luke retorted, holding up a hand before she could respond. “I suggested that we work together, and I intend to stick to my word. But the minute I have reason to suspect Eliza Faraday of murder, friendship and this partnership can’t matter. Neither can whatever is between us.”

  Pulling her shields back into place, Kell took a step away. His hold on her shoulder didn’t falter, but she refused to fight him. “Will you tell me the whole truth too, Sheriff? Why you fled Chicago?”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  Kell laid a hand on his cheek, drawing his eyes to her. “The difference between us, Luke, is that I’m at least honest with myself. And I can leave well enough alone.”

  Taking her at her word, Luke dropped his hands and moved away from her touch. He fished in his pocket for his keys. “Go change into something more comfortable.”

  “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Because we have work to do, and you can’t be wandering around town in that skirt.”

  Kell glanced down at her dress, baffled. “It’s perfectly respectable.”

  “If you didn’t have legs like that, maybe. But I can’t take you anywhere if those are on display. And put your hair in a ponytail or something.”

  “Should I smear dirt on my face?” she sniped.

  “I’d say yes, if I thought it would help. You’re too gorgeous for this kind of work,” he complained aloud.

  “What work?”

  “For visiting Clay’s old haunts. The drug hells of Hallden.” He propelled her to the door, stopping to twist the knob before guiding her into the foyer. “You’ve got five minutes, and then I leave without you.”

  CHAPTER 14

  White blossomed magnolias and cheery songbirds avoided the Red District of Hallden, as had prosperity and hope. Narrow alleys masqueraded as streets, winding between mobile homes and shotgun houses, screen doors framed by burglar bars. Kids scampered along the broken pavement, passing clusters of men wreathed by clouds of smoke. The occasional streetlamp flickered pale yellow streams of light onto the inhabitants of the district, illumining the forgotten.

  Luke parked his truck in the driveway of a whitewashed brick dwelling, its dirt yard already home to a dark sedan of indeterminate age and origin. He killed the engine and flicked the headlights to bright. He turned to Kell.

  “I would take you inside, but I can’t.”

  “Because your informant won’t talk if he sees me, right?”

  “You’ve done this before.” He should have expected so. In fact, he’d debated bringing her along tonight. But with Graves nipping at his heels, he had to move fast if he wanted to keep Eliza’s name out of the case. Experience warned him that Kell would find her way here eventually, without him. “Then you know the drill.”

  “Don’t talk to strangers should cover it,” she answered dryly.

  “Stay in the truck until I come to get you, okay?” Ebony eyes studied her face for a hint of fear or argument. But he saw neither. Another surprise. The lady was full of them. “I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

  Kell merely nodded. “Leave the keys, though.” She reached down to her purse and removed a novel. “I’d like to listen to the radio.”

  The keys dropped into her waiting palm, and she watched silently as he stepped from the truck and strode up the sidewalk to the front door. A sharp rap brought a hand to the curtains hanging in the windows. Ruffles drifted into place, and seconds later, the door opened a crack. Luke quickly slipped inside, disappearing from Kell’s view.

  She flipped open the pages of the romance novel she’d tucked into her bag. After the third pass at the same sentence, she admitted defeat and shut the book. Thoughts raced through her mind at a clip that allowed for little else.

  Like how she came to be back on the side of town she’d vowed to escape as a child. Garret Street hadn’t changed much in the years since her parents had bundled her off its sidewalks and over to the Center. Indeed, if she remembered correctly, the white house they were parked in front of belonged to Mrs. Harris, a crotchety old woman who’d threatened the neighborhood children with grave bodily harm for trespassing on her property.

  She and Anamaria Akins used to pick flowers from the azalea bush that squatted beneath the old lady’s window, she recalled wistfully. Pink flowers with the loveliest fragrance. Anamaria’s favorite color.

  After Kell was sent to Faraday Center, Anamaria had teased her mercilessly. Called her “garbage girl,” thrown away by her own parents. The wound, long-since healed over, ached sharply as she furtively watched a group of teen boys approach in the rearview mirror.

  Returning to Hallden reopened too much. The life she’d built in Atlanta required locking away sentiment in favor of the goals she’d set for herself. No longer a victim of poverty or neglect or a charity case, she’d made Kell Jameson a brilliant, feared attorney, polished hard and solid as diamond.

  With a flaw that could ruin any value she’d gained.

&nbs
p; “Hey, lady, wanna come play?” A young man leered outside the passenger window, laughing with his friends. Whipcord lean, scars marked a face gone sour with malice. Hooded brows shielded dark eyes, and a permanent sneer lay below a nose broken by at least one fist. His guttural tones demanded, “Come on out, let me show you a good time.”

  Kell opened her book again and calmly read the next few pages. Beyond the window, the teenager and his friends grew louder and lewder. She resisted honking the horn, unperturbed. A lifetime among their kind had dulled the instinctive fear she might have felt.

  As she continued to ignore the taunts, the six or seven teenagers surrounded the truck. The vehicle began to rock, shoved from both sides. Kell jostled inside the cab and considered her options. Ignoring them wasn’t working. The teenagers’ randy hostility required an outlet.

  Before she could act, from the rear of the truck, a new boy approached and hissed an alert. “Man, wrong chick. This is the sheriff’s truck,” the young man warned anxiously. “Better not let him catch you hitting on his woman.”

  “I’m not afraid of a pig,” the ringleader boasted, making a snout with his finger. He echoed his claim by snorting loudly. The raucous sound drew chortles from the cluster of young men that circled the truck. A couple, though, moved away and faded into the shadows.

  “See ya, man.”

  “Run, punks. I don’t care.” Goaded, he pounded on the window. “Unlock the door, lady, and let me show you what a real man can do. Don’t make me come and get you.”

  Kell calmly inserted the key in the ignition and, when the engine engaged, slid the window down a few inches. A hand could reach inside, but not touch anything. “What’s your name?” she inquired softly.

  “My friends call me Doc, but you can call me Daddy,” he suggested, resting his fingers on the open rim. To test the give, he jerked at the pane of glass, which held still. “Why don’t you get out of that truck and come ride something much harder?”

  “Because I have taste,” she replied casually. “And a forty-five tucked in my purse that will make your equipment an amusement park ride if you don’t walk away from this truck in the next thirty seconds.”

  “You expect us to believe a lady like you’s got a gun in there?”

  Kell tilted her head back to make eye contact through the window. “Actually, no. I expect you to continue to harass me and make me fear for my safety. At which point, I can shoot you and claim self-defense.”

  Hoots of appreciative laughter met her comment, and Doc wriggled in embarrassment. “I ain’t afraid of you.”

  The wiry teenager who’d issued the warning about Luke’s truck rushed over to Doc. “Dude, I recognize her. She’s that lawyer from CourtWatch TV. Nina says she used to live at the Center.”

  “Your girlfriend knows her?”

  “Nina’s not my girlfriend,” he dismissed brusquely. “But this is her. I saw her at the Center last week.” Catching himself, he added, “When I went by to drop some stuff off for my grandmother.”

  “For real?” Doc leaned closer to the truck, peering inside. “The hot one? She doesn’t look like her too much.”

  “They all wear more makeup on TV,” one of the boys offered. “Plus, she’s usually in them short skirts.”

  “What’s your name, lady?” The question came from a shorter boy, who Kell guessed to be around sixteen. “You really that lawyer that got Brodie off?”

  “Kell Jameson. And, yes, I am an attorney.” Doc had faded away a few paces, leaving room for his friends to crowd closer to the window. Kell realized she’d rarely have a better chance to ask questions. “Who are you?” she asked the sixteen-year-old.

  “Martin, ma’am.” He had a soft voice that lilted over the address.

  “Nice to meet you, Martin.” She pointed at the one who’d recognized her. “And you?”

  “Tony. Tony Delgado.” The baseball cap he wore tipped low over his brow. He gazed out from its brim quietly. “One day, I might want to go to law school.”

  “You ain’t goin’ to law school,” scoffed Doc. “Only kinda lawyer you’ll be is a jailhouse one.”

  The remaining boys laughed, and Tony dipped his head lower. “It’s just a thought.”

  Sympathy thrummed through her. “I grew up down the street, Tony.” She inched closer to the window, lifting her voice to carry into the knot of young men. “Before I moved to the Center.”

  “For real?”

  “For real. Mrs. F made me go to school, and I studied. Got decent grades. Then I went to college and law school.” She gestured to the far end of the street. “I think I lived in that house down there. It used to be blue.”

  “That’s where I live,” Martin volunteered shyly. “I never met a real lawyer before.”

  “She ain’t nothin’,” Doc protested, his sway over the posse slipping. “A TV lawyer, man. Blowin’ you up for nothing. None of us is goin’ to college. Which is why I know how to make mine right here at home.”

  Kell filed away the reference, although Luke already likely knew Doc well. “You might not go to college. That’s up to you.” Screwing up her courage, Kell killed the engine. The key gripped tight in her hand, she alit from the truck to stand near the boys. Immediately, she was grateful to Luke for insisting on the jeans and T-shirt, coupled with the flat brown sandals. “I’m here working on a case,” she opened.

  “What kind?” Martin sidled next to Tony. Doc continued to mutter in the background, but the other teenagers fell silent.

  “I’m a defense attorney. I don’t work for the cops.” Kell could tell when the connection occurred for Tony.

  “Then why are you in Sheriff Calder’s truck?”

  “I’m visiting town, and Luke is a friend of mine. But while he’s inside, I think you guys can help me.”

  Sensing a trade, Doc reasserted himself, shoving Martin to the side. “You looking for information?”

  “Depends on whether you know anything or not.” Kell stopped, watched Doc carefully for a beat. “If I hear something worth knowing, that man gets my card. Which entitles him to a free legal session at any time.”

  “What if I don’t need a lawyer? What if I need a lady?”

  “Then I assume you’ll have to go to the Grove to find her.” Kell winced internally at the crass suggestion, but the chuckles from the others bolstered her courage. “I’ll trade advice for answers. Any takers?”

  Tony took a step forward, only to be blocked by Doc’s arm. “Whatcha want to know?”

  “Clay Griffin.” She scanned the faces in the broken light. “What can you tell me?”

  Doc’s face blanched and he gave a quick shake of the head. “Sorry, lady. We’ve got curfews. See you around.” In seconds, she could hear tennis shoes slapping the pavement as the boys ran off. Tony gave her a fleeting look, then he sped into the darkness.

  “What the hell are you doing out of the truck?” Luke raced to her side, eyes combing the street for danger. Catching her arm in rough hold, he growled, “I told you to stay inside. This area isn’t safe.”

  “No, it’s not,” she agreed quietly. She pulled free of Luke’s grip and pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I used to live on this street. A blue house with four rooms. Bedroom, kitchen, living room, bathroom. My dad was the janitor at the Crystal Pony, a strip club in the District.” A baby wailed in the distance. “Mom danced there, I think. I remember her clothes, all sparkles and shiny.”

  Fascinated, Luke said nothing.

  “One morning, when I was in second grade, she woke me up and told me to pick out my favorite toys. Didn’t take long,” she murmured. “I had a stuffed whale that I’d gotten for Christmas or something. Mom shoved the rest of my stuff into a garbage bag. Told me to get in the car.”

  Knowing what happened next, he couldn’t stop hands from catching her face, turning her to him. “Kell.”

  “I remember asking why I wasn’t taking the bus to school. I always took the bus with Mattie and Anamaria.”

  He
stroked her cheek, felt a drop of moisture beneath his thumb. “What did they say?”

  “Mom said that Dad got her a better gig. A traveling road show.” She smiled wanly. “No children allowed.”

  “They abandoned you.”

  She released a breath, deep and shaky. “They saved me. My God, Luke, if they’d kept me.”

  “You’d still be the woman you are today. Smart and tough and savvy.”

  She disagreed. “I’d probably be an exotic dancer like my mom. Or a petty crook like my father. But they saved me from that. They gave me away to a woman who cared that I learned, that I saw myself as more than—”

  Kell broke off, and Luke tipped her eyes up to meet his. “More than what, Kell?”

  “Just more, I guess. Mrs. F always told me I could be more.” Her fingers curled around his wrists. “She made me a better person than my parents could have, Luke.”

  “Eliza raised you, yes, but you made yourself. We all do. Every day. You chose the kind of woman you want to be, Kell. Not Eliza. Not Trent. Not your clients.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing.” Frustrated, he shifted his hold to her shoulders and gave them a brief shake. “You outgrew that blue house a long time ago, darling. And the people inside.”

  “Perhaps. But I can’t disappoint her, Luke. No matter what.”

  Luke leaned close and pressed a soft kiss to her startled mouth. “You may not have to. Come inside and meet some of my friends.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Luke and Kell sat on a sagging flowered couch whose springs had seen better days. Kell had correctly identified Mrs. Kathy Harris as the domestic who maintained a painfully clean lawn with two azalea bushes that crouched outside beneath her windows. She also remembered the elderly woman to be a busybody and a gossip. Two useful traits, she imagined.

  The plastic slipcover squeaked meekly as their host joined them. She extended two glasses of a syrupy yellow liquid identified by smell as lemonade. “Luke here tells me you’re one of Eliza’s children.”

  Mrs. Harris eased her bulk deeper into the well-worn hollows in the flattened cushions. Her words echoed in the cramped space, in part, Kell assumed, because of the hearing aid that lay unworn on the scarred coffee table. “Said you’re a big city lawyer now. Got that actor fellow off.”