But it was a first offense. The kid had been crying in court when he’d told the judge that he was only trying to protect his father on their property. Harold’s eyes had been moist, too. Jayden promised his client that he’d write to the judge personally, suggesting that the boy’s charges be lessened, and asking him to be placed with his father’s girlfriend, who was the closest thing to family he had. The woman was clean, had never been a user herself, and had been on her job for ten years. The fact that Wallace lived with her didn’t have to be a bad thing. Depending on how he spun it.
He’d told Wallace, if need be, he’d do whatever he could to take personal responsibility for the boy. But he wasn’t sure how that would look. Still, he was determined to try. That boy needed serious counseling, and deserved a second chance. The kid could prove him wrong. Could come after him and finish the job he’d started at his dad’s house. But it was a risk Jayden had to take. He had a good sense when it came to assessing people. And if not for second chances, he wouldn’t be the man he was.
He’d be a deadbeat drunk without a college degree, still trying to find a good time. If he was alive at all.
Still shirtless, and feeling better standing, Jayden called Emma from the back patio of his walled-in yard. Only a mile from the beach, he saw no point in a swimming pool, but he kept the place nice. Grass mowed. Flowering bushes trimmed.
Nothing like the opulent home he’d grown up in south of LA. Or the home he’d one day inherit. But far more to his taste.
“Jayden Powell here,” he said when she picked up.
“Your name came up on my phone,” she replied.
He slipped a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. So she had him programmed, huh? He grinned.
And then stopped. He had all of his work associates in his Contacts, too. Meant nothing.
“I’m waiting for the dates and times Suzie might have suffered injuries.” He turned his thoughts to his earlier offer. He’d invited a more personal relationship. She’d declined.
Not something he was used to, but he’d definitely survive.
“I was just getting ready to put in a second call to Sara,” she said. “I’ve got what the doctor could give us. I wanted to get it all to you at once.”
Made sense.
“I’ve been in court all morning.”
He walked along the pavers he’d put in across the lawn that lead to his built-in barbecue patio. He’d been heading toward a chair at the table, but once there, opted to remain standing.
The distraction didn’t work. He was still grinning from the realization that she hadn’t been specifically ignoring him. She’d been in court.
“I requested you on a case,” he told her. Maybe she hadn’t been assigned to it. There was always that possibility, though it was just now occurring to him.
“I’ve already read the file. Need to talk to you about it, actually. Can you swing by my office sometime today?”
“I can talk now.”
“I want the interview recorded.”
“Right.” He nodded. “For the record.” Because she was that good. He’d known he’d made the right choice, turning Luke Lincoln over to her.
“For the record,” she reiterated, but her tone had softened. Perceptibly. He imagined she had a look in her eye, the same look that had accompanied that tone in her voice the night before.
“What time works for you?” he asked, kind of hoping she’d rush him through in between other important things. Like court appearances.
“I’m done at four,” she said. “Would that work for you?”
He could be free at four. And would force himself to be the height of professionalism when he showed up, too.
Chapter 6
Emma took Jayden Powell straight to the interview room after he checked his gun into a locker. She didn’t look at him. So how did she still note that his jeans and button-down white shirt looked fresh. Not wrinkled from a day’s work.
Ms. Shadow was that good. A brief glimpse with peripheral vision and that girl could fly to the moon and back.
Or send Emma to hell, was more like it.
She’d once had Emma on the back of a motorcycle, throwing reason, good sense, and her conscience to the wind, all because she’d had the hots for the guy who owned it.
The story of her life: what made her happiest also made her miserable. That was why she’d chosen only unselfish happiness by serving others, being a mother, but having no partner, doing work that energized her, captivated her and made society a better place to live.
“We’re doing this alone?” he asked when she shut the door to the little room behind him.
“It’ll be on tape.” Emma nodded at the equipment on the table as they each took a seat, her on one side, him on the other. She’d already set up the Lincoln file, and typed on the keyboard to access it, naming the new document “Jayden Powell Interview.”
She switched on the recorder so fast, her fingers fumbled and pushed the wrong button, closing the file, which she then had to reopen. Thankfully she was the only party in the room privy to what was on the laptop screen built into the tabletop.
As soon as the recorder was in play, she relaxed. No chance for anything but professional conversation now. Her shadow side could just go hide.
“Tell me what happened this morning, starting from when you pulled up to the residence where Luke Lincoln was staying.”
She had a list of questions and made it through most of them in record time. Powell made a great witness, her shadow side was quick to point out, and this time Emma concurred with her lesser self. She was starting to feel better about her chances in court with his succinct, appropriate and immediate responses. Not only was he giving her facts she could corroborate, first off with his location app, which would validate timing, but the man also recorded every one of his visits.
He was that good.
And would make an excellent witness. She was picturing him dressed in a blue blazer over his jeans and white shirt, probably with a tie, his longish hair somewhat contained, sitting in the jury box, before she realized that Ms. Shadow was spending more time with her than in the box where she belonged.
Part of the problem was that she and her darker side were starting to agree on a thing or two where the probation officer was concerned, and that just was not acceptable. She’d decided a couple of years before, when she’d broken a wonderful man’s heart, that her mental and emotional health, and the good of those with whom she might relate, depended on her keeping her lower tendencies in their place. She’d tried with all her might to fall in love with the good man with whom she’d been living, had even pretended to herself that she’d succeeded, but it hadn’t happened. And he’d known it...
She was almost through her list of questions.
“Why did you go there alone?” she asked, although she believed now that he’d found the gun where he’d said he had.
“I do the job I do because I believe everyone is deserving of a second chance,” he said, surprising her with the...personal tone...of his answer. He wasn’t being any less professional, wasn’t giving her looks or smiles—hadn’t since he’d walked toward her in the lobby of her building when she’d gone out to meet him—but somehow she felt like he was sharing something real with her. Real to the man, not just the officer.
“Go on.”
“If I didn’t go alone, I’d be making Luke immediately defensive, without having a chance to talk to him, to convince him to stay put,” he said. “During our first interview, he asked if I’d be the only one visiting him. He didn’t want his sister upset with a bunch of different cops showing up at her house at any time of the day. She’d said she was okay with it during our preplacement interview, but Luke said he felt bad enough, having to put his little sister out. Said, as her big brother, he should be protecting her, not humiliating her in front of her neighbors.” He looked her in th
e eye. “At which time I told him that as long as he complied with my rules, I’d visit alone most often. I knew if I showed up today with Leon, or anyone else, I didn’t have a chance of keeping him on the outside.”
“You knew he was potentially dangerous and you just walked in there anyway.”
“I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to do anything stupid, like attack me.”
She stared at him. He could have been hurt. And didn’t seem to get that. For such a smart man, he’d made a very stupid choice.
At least in terms of his safety.
“And I was right,” he added, having held her gaze for the past several seconds.
A hint of desire crept through her.
Emma looked away. They were doing it again. Saying things with their eyes that her mouth could never say. Or follow through on.
“Like you were right on Tuesday?” she challenged.
“I was right about my offender.”
“So why are you so hell-bent on giving second chances that you’re willing to risk your life to give them to virtual strangers?” Not a question on her list.
“It’s my job.”
She turned off the recording. Looked at him. “The job you do, as I understand it, is to oversee parolees to make certain they comply with the terms of their release in order to keep the public safe.”
“Yes, that’s what it used to be, and still is, of course, but today we’re trained to help our clients, to support their efforts. We’re counselors some days as much as we are enforcement officers.”
“So you’ve had training in counseling?” She couldn’t help the tone of disbelief.
“I have a duel degree in criminology and social work, with a master’s in counseling. And I made it through the police academy, too.”
He was drawing her in with his eyes again. And seeming to listen to things she wouldn’t say. As if he were listening to Ms. Shadow.
Emma couldn’t breathe for a second there, fearing that he knew about her deepest desires. And then realized that she was smarter than that.
“Forgive me for saying so, but you sound a bit overqualified.” The words came out wrong. “Only in that you could have your own practice, or some high-level position within the police department. You know, counseling officers and—”
“I knew when I was still an undergraduate what I wanted to do,” he told her. “My training is job specific, with the end in mind.”
She’d been that sure of herself, too, getting a degree in psychology with the sole purpose of going on to law school and becoming a prosecutor. Because of an emotionally sensitive, and spoiled darling, younger sister, her childhood had been emotionally turbulent. Anna was a drama queen who’d controlled them all with her moods and her needs. Her little sister loved fiercely and was a horrible enemy, too. She could cut a person to the quick without even seeming to notice. Her parents had certainly never seemed to see the undisciplined monster they’d created by never telling her no. Or teaching her that she couldn’t have everything she wanted. Emma’s friends had gradually stopped wanting to hang out at her house because her little sister always had to be included. Anna would want things her way and then throw a tantrum, even at thirteen, if she didn’t get what she wanted. The time she’d called Emma’s best friend an ugly bitch was a standout.
Emma, the practical, reliable older sister, had been the one responsible for keeping her sibling in check at school, too. When Anna got in trouble, her parents held Emma accountable. Why hadn’t she stepped in? She knew how sensitive Anna was...
Like she’d had any control at all over her sister’s choices or actions.
Emma had longed for a life that she could control. That would be driven by written rules, things she could count on. Black and white. And so she’d become a prosecutor.
Maybe it hadn’t turned out exactly as she’d planned, but she loved what she did. Believed she was making a positive difference in the world. And...
Was ready to take the next step in her life: becoming a mother. Having a child in her life who she could love as much as she’d loved Anna—one she could raise to be aware of others and who’d learn to love in return.
Jayden was still watching her. Assessing her?
Seeing...what?
And what did it matter what he saw? She was the one in control here. Conducting an interview—even if she was no longer recording it. Everything she gained was for her to pull on in court if she needed it.
“Why is it so important to you to spend your life giving second chances?”
“Because I’m living mine.”
He fidgeted in the chair and she wasn’t all that sure it was rib discomfort that was bothering him. He’d looked up at the grate at the top of the wall that let in daylight.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him. The man had layers. A lot of them. She wanted to unpeel them all.
And not for the case.
Which meant that she couldn’t.
Whatever he’d done...clearly it hadn’t been prosecutable. Not on a felony level. He wouldn’t have his job if it had been. And therefore, it was none of her business—her shadow side be damned.
* * *
Jayden didn’t talk about his past. It had happened. He couldn’t change it. Whatever condemnation he deserved, he gave himself. Every single waking minute of every single day.
And whatever commiseration or understanding his telling might possibly elicit, he didn’t deserve it.
His friend, a guy who’d looked up to him, was dead, because of him. And part of Jayden had died, too. It was just that simple.
And that tragic.
Even more upsetting to him at the moment was how close he’d come to telling Emma Martin about it. He couldn’t even comprehend the temptation to tell her.
“Did you ever hear from that counselor at The Lemonade Stand? About Suzie Heber?” He had to get things back on track. And get home. Crack one of those beers. Find a comfortable position in his chair and maybe get some sleep.
“Yes.” Emma pulled a sheet from beneath the yellow legal pad in front of her. “Here are approximate time frames Bill is suspected of having been in the area. This is based on when Suzie said she fell, but also on other things she said. Times she was upset, or just not herself. A day she didn’t make it into work, but said she wasn’t sick. As well as doctor reports. She’s been to the ER twice in the past three months and also to see her regular physician and her chiropractor.”
“All of this has happened in the last three months,” he noted, looking at the information she’d printed out for him. He just couldn’t believe Bill was responsible. And yet...clearly someone was hurting Suzie and it made sense that Bill would be a suspect. The incidents had started after his parolee’s release...
“She claims that all of the ailments stem from a fall that has created issues that have caused other falls. She hurt her foot and says she stumbles a lot, but all medical reports say the same thing—the injuries aren’t ones you’d sustain on your own. They’re blunt force caused mainly by human hands and, on occasion, a fist.”
“Is there evidence of a foot injury?” he asked, feeling the tension grow within him as he listened. It sounded as though things were escalating, and if Suzie was being hurt, as apparently all medical personal reported, they had to get the guy before he killed her.
“Yes, a cracked bone that is healing incorrectly. It appears, from bruising, that someone grabbed it and deliberately twisted it.”
“That broke it?”
“No, that was after the initial injury.”
Good God. Just to be sure, he pulled out his phone. Checked his app. Bill was at work. Right where he belonged. Half an hour south of Santa Raquel.
But that didn’t mean Suzie was safe.
“I’m assuming they’re doing something for her foot now? So that if it was causing her to fall, that won’
t keep happening?”
“Yes. Eventually she’ll probably need surgery, but they have her in a boot.”
He glanced down at her list. “I’ll check all of this tonight against the app. And head to Heber’s neighborhood in the morning to check out ice cream vendors.”
She nodded. Smiled. He didn’t smile back.
“You want to go get some dinner?”
Her question knocked him out of line. She’d very clearly blown off his advance the night before. And he...
Had work to do.
Jayden looked at her, knowing he had a beer waiting in his refrigerator.
“Are you seeing anyone?” He repeated the question she’d ignored the night before, expecting her to back away again.
“No.”
“Then yes, I’d like to get some dinner.”
He was no fool. Or...maybe he was.
Chapter 7
They drove separately—her call—and she was going to ask for separate checks, too. All the way to the restaurant—a pub she’d suggested close to the new hospital, not some romantic place on or by the beach—she reprimanded herself for having made the invitation.
Unless...
The idea hit her as she pulled into the parking lot. She wasn’t planning to live her entire life without sex. Without men. She just wasn’t going to have a committed relationship. Once the baby came, she’d have to reconsider the casual sex idea. But for now...
Could it be that she could let her dark side out to play for a bit without anyone getting hurt? Could she have fun with the risk-taker in her path, without undue consequences?
Lori, one of her three study partners from law school, had done it. And swore by it. Sex was healthy, she said. She was right, of course, but it was more than just a physical activity.
The point was to take control of your life, not to let urges and temptations take control of you. She was already in the process of starting the next phase of her life. All those years, growing up with Anna, she’d told herself that “when she had a child of her own...”
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