Billionaire's Tragedy (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (46 page)

CHAPTER
FIFTY-SIX

Brooke

I
couldn't shake the feeling that Dax knew who the fax had come from, and that he
was going to do something dangerous in retaliation. He hadn't said anything
specific, but I just had a gut feeling. And, watching him walk out the door of
the diner made me feel both worried and aroused. I couldn't help but admire his
muscular body and remember the things that he'd done to me and with me last
night.

I shivered as I
remembered how it felt being pressed against his chest as we rode the wave of
need and desire together. I shook my head to clear it, knowing that if I got
lost in my fantasy, I'd never figure out a way to keep Dax out of prison.

Something fishy
was going on, and I needed to get back to the office to talk with Jordie. I
grabbed my purse and hailed a cab to take me back to the firm.

When I walked
through the door, I knew something was wrong. The front desk was empty. It was
twelve-twenty and I knew that Alma always took her lunch at one on the dot, so
she had to be in the ladies’ room or in back making a fresh pot of coffee for
the guys.

"Alma?"
I called as I walked down the hall. I started to worry when I got no response.
"Alma? Are you back there?"

The office was
silent. I peeked into Roger's office, but it was empty. I walked down the hall,
starting to feel the beginning of panic welling up inside me.

"Jordie?"
I called. "Alma? Jordie? Are you here?"

"Hey,
Brooke," Jordie said as he came striding down the hall. "I don't know
if you know what's going on around here, but Alma was pretty upset by a fax
that arrived earlier. So I sent her home for the day."

"Wait,
what?" I said. "You know about the fax?"

"Yeah, Alma
showed me, and I talked about it with Roger before he headed out to the
marina," Jordie said. "We're not sure it's safe for you to be here
right now."

"That's
silly," I replied. "I'm working on a case. I can't be scared away
from the office by a child's drawing and a vague threat."

"Brooke,
someone has it in for Dax Malone," he said with a serious look. "His
former lawyer is dead and now you're getting faxes that say you're next? That's
not good, my friend."

"Jordie,
there is something incredibly weird going on around here," I said as I
turned and faced him. "We need to talk about why Dax is being accused of a
murder he didn't commit and why this whole case is spinning out of control. Why
on earth would Dax want to murder Lydia Banks?"

"Jesus, you
haven't heard, have you?" Jordie said shaking his head. "Brooke, you
might want to sit down."

"I'm not a
fragile daisy, Jordie," I said waving a hand at him as I grew irritated.
"Just tell me what the hell is going on."

"Okay, well,
don't say I didn't warn you," Jordie took a deep breath and began.
"Dax Malone is a drug kingpin in LA. He uses the club as his front to
cover the drug running he does, and he sells the drugs out of the club to the
members who have passed the vetting process."

"Huh,
really?" I said utterly unsurprised, since Dax had just spent the past
hour filling me in on all the details surrounding his business.

"You don't
seem surprised," he said in a disappointed voice.

"I'm not
because I already knew it," I said. "Now, what I'm concerned with is
why Lydia Banks was offed and who is trying to frame Dax for the murder."

"How do you
propose we figure that out?" he asked.

"I don't
know, but Roger went to the marina to check it out, so there's that," I
said. Then, I remembered the stack of papers on my desk and turned to go get
them so I could show Jordie. "And, there's something else I want to show
you."

"What's
that?" he asked.

"Do you know
anything about a deal we did with Banks and Associates last year?" I asked
as I searched through the stacks of paperwork on my desk. "It would have
been around the time Jake left me, so I was pretty useless then. But do you
remember you and Roger doing any deals with them?"

"No, I don't
remember anything like that," he said. "Do you remember what it was
for?"

"Some kind of
land contract for property near Skid Row," I said as I continued
searching. I knew I'd left the paperwork on my desk earlier, but now it was
missing. Maybe I'd stuck it my briefcase along with the files I wanted to
discuss with Dax. I checked and when I didn't find them, I started feeling
concerned. Had someone taken them?

"Huh, no I
don't remember anything like that," he said as he watched me. "Did
you ask Roger?"

"No, he was
gone by the time I remembered I had the papers," I said, feeling bad for
lying to Jordie about our friend. I had a weird feeling about Roger, and at the
moment, I wasn't sure what side he was on. I knew that Roger was always on Roger's
side, but this time there seemed to be more than just his side and our side. I
couldn't put my finger on the source of my unease, but I knew better than to
draw Jordie into the middle of it without proof. Not only would it destroy the
firm, it would drive a wedge through our friendship and maybe for no reason at
all. "I can't find the papers, maybe Alma filed them."

"Alright,
well, if you find them let me know," he said. "Meanwhile, I'm going
to go back to looking over the footage of Lydia's last week at her firm. I'm
wondering if she had any visitors that might lead us to an explanation for why
she disappeared."

"Good
thinking," I said as I sat down and tried to think out my next move. If
the papers had been taken, then there was someone who had access to our offices
and we weren't safe from spying eyes. "Hey, Jordie, it might sound weird
for me to say this, but make sure you lock up all the files on this case before
you leave your office, okay?"

"Uh,
okay," he shrugged. "You think we have a spy amongst us?"

"No, not so
much amongst us as just watching us and rifling through our stuff," I
said. "Just to be on the safe side."

"Sure thing,
Brooke," he said with a sideways glance at me. "You sure you're
okay?"

"I'm fine,
but this case is getting weirder by the hour," I said as I turned back to
my computer and began punching the keyboard in search of something that I
wasn't sure actually existed.

CHAPTER
FIFTY-SEVEN

Dax

I
had just returned
to my penthouse to shower and change after a long morning when the phone rang.
I looked at the number and didn't recognize it, so I let it go to voicemail as
I brewed myself a cup of strong espresso and shed my clothing.

I replayed the
previous twenty-four hours and smiled as I remembered the way Brooke had looked
laying on her desk. I wanted to see her lying on my bed, eyes wide and her hair
spilling out over the pillows as we enjoyed one another again and again. I
wanted her to wake up next to me and smile as I wrapped an arm around her and
pulled her close under the covers. I wanted to see her perched on a stool
downstairs as I whipped up eggs and poured coffee.

It surprised me to
think about all of the little things that I wanted with Brooke. I'd never been
one for mornings after or pleasing a woman beyond what it took to sexually wow
her. I'd never wanted to let the women in my life past a certain point, and as
a result, I'd chosen women who'd never inspired me to want to do more for them.
Women like Diamond liked my wild, alpha ways, but they knew better than to try
and tame me. I wasn't a man who wanted or needed taming.

Until I met
Brooke. There was something about her that made me want to be a better version
of myself when I was with her. I wanted to impress her and please her, but more
than that, I wanted her to want me. I wanted her to choose me. I stood in the
shower and let the water stream down over my tired body before I lathered up
and sadly washed away the lingering scent of Brooke and her desire. I wanted
more of that. I wanted her.

I quickly chose a
pair of jeans and a black button down shirt for the day's uniform. I was
tempted to go full out and dress in a suit, but I knew better than to call
attention to myself that way. And besides, I wasn't really a suit kind of guy.
My jeans and my comfortable shirts were my armor. And, I had a feeling that
today I was going to need some heavy-duty armor.

I padded down to
the kitchen and brewed myself another espresso before I turned on the news and
caught up with what was going on in the world. I had just picked up my phone to
check my messages when I heard the reporter say, "And in local news, Beck
Malone, brother of accused murderer, Dax Malone, walked away from a rehab
facility in LA this afternoon. Sources say that Beck was at the facility to deal
with a heroin addiction while his brother fights to prove his innocence in the
murder of local attorney Lydia Banks.

Banks had been
Malone's attorney for years before he was arrested and charged with
premeditated execution and dumping her body in the water near Marina
del
Rey. Malone's current attorney, Brooke Raines, has said
that she has no comment, aside from the fact that her client is innocent.

Police said that
Beck Malone was wearing a white t-shirt, jeans, and no shoes when he walked off
the hospital grounds earlier this afternoon, and his doctors are asking the
public to be on the lookout for him as he might be in need of medication or
medical care. Please call 800-555-2251 if you see him. This is Annika Randall
reporting for Action News live on the scene. Back to you in the studio,
Hal."

"FUCK!"
I yelled into the empty room. "Beck, what are you doing?"

I'd had a bad
feeling about leaving Beck in a rehab facility that had no security or locked
wards, but he'd refused to be checked in to a place like that, so I'd
compromised and found New Horizons. They'd promised me that they would keep a
close eye on him and that he'd never be out of the sight of a staff member.
Now, everything was really going to hell in a hand basket. If Beck walked away
and got mixed up in drugs again, I probably wouldn't be able to find him,
forget about saving him from his own addiction.

I leaned against
the counter and ran a hand through my hair. How in the hell was I going to deal
with yet another stress? The murder charges, the club, and the drug shipments
that seemed to be suspect in the ODs were all demanding my attention. Now, Beck
was going to split this in a four-way. I slammed my fist on the counter and
cursed him, "Damn you, Beck Malone!"

I had to find him
before anyone else did. His life most likely depended on it.

CHAPTER
FIFTY-EIGHT

Brooke

Later
that afternoon, Jordie came rushing into my office yelling, "Brooke!
Brooke! Turn on the news!" I grabbed the remote and flipped through the
channels until I came to the Action News report. Annika Randall was explaining
that Beck Malone had walked away from the rehab facility that his brother had
admitted him to not twenty-four hours before.

"We need to
find him," I said to Jordie without looking away from the television. If
Beck was out there roaming around searching for drugs, it made him, and Dax,
vulnerable. We needed to find Beck and get him somewhere safe before someone
else decided he was a good target. I looked at Jordie and he nodded as he went
back to his office to make a few calls.

I picked up the
phone and dialed. "Pop, I need your help," I said. "And, I need
it to be hush hush."

"What's up,
kiddo?" he asked as I heard my mother in the background asking if it was
one of the kids.

"I need help
finding someone who doesn't want to be found," I said. "Beck Malone
has wandered away from rehab and I can't explain it all right now, but we need
to find him as soon as humanly possible."

"Hmm, well, I
can think of a few places where someone might go if they want to
disappear," my father said.

"Pop, he's a
junkie looking for a fix," I said.

"Oh, well,
then, I know exactly where he might go," my father replied. "I'll
check it out and let you know what I find."

"Pop, don't
do anything risky or dangerous," I warned.

"My darling
daughter, I am an
LA Times
reporter," he said haughtily. "Danger and risk are our middle
names."

"Pop, you're
an entertainment reporter," I said with a smile. "Keep it safe and
simple."

"You always
take the fun out of everything," he pouted as I heard my mother asking
what I had said.

"I love you,
Pop
," I said before disconnecting.

The next call I
had to make was a bit trickier, but I knew it had the potential to be more
helpful than the one to my father. My father was my connection to the paper's
resources, but my brother had the ability to marshal the forces of the entire
LA Fire Department, and I knew that once I called him, there would be no
turning back. If Teddy got involved, I would have thousands of people looking
for Beck. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was a smart idea. Did Dax
want Beck to be found? What danger was there if everyone was looking for him? I
didn't want to call any more attention to him than was necessary, but I feared
that if I didn't, the person who had sent the threatening fax would turn their
attention to Beck and away from me. And in this case, Beck was in a far more
vulnerable position.

I tapped the
screen and waited for my brother to answer.

"Yo, sis,
what's up?" Teddy laughed into the phone.

"I need help,
Teddy," I said.

"What do you
need, Brookie?" he said, immediately treating my request seriously.

"I need you
and your people to be on the lookout for Beck Malone," I said. "He
walked away from rehab today and I'm afraid that he's either going to look for
a hook up to get him a fix or he's going to be used as a bargaining chip by
someone who wants to hurt his brother."

"What makes
you think that?" Teddy asked.

"Just a
hunch," I said as I avoided answering his question. I didn't want Teddy to
worry about my safety or, worse, to sound the alarm and make my parents worry.

"Brooke,
seriously, tell me what's going on," he said. Teddy knew me better than
anyone, and that meant that he knew when I wasn't telling the truth. And then,
he said the magic words, "I won't tell Mom and Pop."

"You'd better
not be suckering me, Theodore Raines," I said seriously.

"Hand to
God," he said, even though I couldn't see if he had his hand behind his
back with his fingers crossed.

"I'll trust
you, but I swear, Teddy, you'd better not breathe a word of this to
anyone," I threatened. "I'll lose my license to practice law, and
then I will tell Mom and Pop it was all your fault."

"Just like
always!" he gleefully declared.

"Jerk,"
I said grumpily.

"Tattletale,"
he lobbed back, continuing our lifelong insult match.

"Someone is
trying to pin this murder on Dax, Teddy," I said. I carefully weighed my
next words before I spoke, "We know this because that person sent us a
faxed threat this morning. I'm worried that Beck is going to become a target
for this person to focus on and use to get Dax to take the blame for the murder
simply to ensure that Beck is safe."

"Jesus,
sis," Teddy exhaled into the phone. I sat tensely waiting for him to
speak. "When you get involved in something, you really get involved!"

"Don't be a
pain," I scolded, but I knew he was really worried or else he wouldn't be
joking.

"Okay, I'll
tell everyone to be on the lookout for Beck," he said. "You got a
photo?"

"I'll forward
you one on your phone," I said as I made a note to ask Dax for a photo of
Beck. "Teddy, I'm serious, please don't tell Mom and Pop about the threat.
I already asked Pop to see what he could get on Beck from the city reporters,
but I didn't tell him about anything related to me, okay?"

"Brooke, are
you sure you know what you're doing?" Teddy asked.

"No, but I
know that my job is to make sure that my client gets the best representation
possible and a fair trial," I said as I scribbled a few notes on my legal
pad. "And, I'm absolutely certain that Dax did not kill Lydia Banks."

"Alright, if
you say so, then I'll believe you," Teddy said. "I'm on it. Send me
the photo as soon as you can."

"Will
do," I said. "And Teddy?"

"Yeah,
sis?"

"You're the
best brother ever," I smiled.

"Yeah, yeah,
yeah, you say that to all your brothers," he laughed.

"No, just
one," I said very seriously. "I love you, Teddy."

"Now, don't
go getting all sappy on me," he grumbled into the phone. And then quietly,
he continued, "Love you too, Brookie."

As I sat at my
desk trying to figure out what to do next, my phone rang. The number came up
blocked, and I almost didn't answer it. But then I thought about how Beck might
be calling from some unknown location, and I answered it.

"Brooke
Raines?"

"Speaking,"
I said. "Who is this?"

"No one that
you want to know, but everyone you need to know," said the voice on the
other end.

"Who is
this?"

"I'm calling
to let you know that I'm in charge," said the voice. It was metallic and
obviously being filtered through some sort of vocal distortion machine.
"If you play my way, I'll let you live, but if you resist, then you'll end
up like poor little Lydia. Stupid cow."

"What do you
want?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and even. There was no one
left in the office, and I couldn't risk calling the police while I had this
person on the other end of the line. So I carefully pulled my phone away from
my ear and hit the speaker button. Then, I opened my voice recorder app and hit
record, hoping he'd speak again so that I'd have something on record.

"You have
nothing I want," said the voice. "What I want is Dax Malone's head on
a platter, and I'm going to get it."

"This makes
no sense," I said wondering how long I could stall this person before
they'd hang up in frustration.

"That's the
beauty of it all," said the voice with a little laugh. "You don't
have to understand a damn thing."

"Why don't
you explain it to me?" I asked.

"Why don't
you fuck off?" said the voice before disconnecting and leaving me staring
at a blank screen.

I had no idea what
that was about, but at least I had evidence of the person's existence and could
tell Dax that the real killer was actually out to get him. I quickly tapped the
screen of my phone and brought up Dax's number, then I thought better of it and
gathered up my purse and briefcase and headed out the door.

I'd go see Dax and
we'd discuss what to do next. I knew I was making excuses for why I had to see
him in person, but at this point, I didn't care. I wanted to see Dax and, if I
was honest, I wanted to wrap my arms around him and reassure myself that he was
okay.

#

"
Well
, good morning, Miss Raines," Fred
cheerfully greeted me as I walked into the lobby. "I was starting to worry
about you!"

"Good
morning, Fred," I said as I came out of the cloud of thoughts swirling
around my brain. "Why's that?"

"Well, I
hadn't seen you all day and I've got a delivery for you," he said as he
went behind the desk and pulled out a large envelope and handed it to me. There
was no return address or postage on the envelope.

"Fred, did
you see who delivered this?" I asked frowning and turning the envelope
over noticing that it had been sealed with a wide strip of tape. First, the
phone call and now, this envelope. Someone was trying to get a message across,
and I didn't like the way it was being transmitted.

"No ma'am, I
sure did not," he said. "I went out for a break and when I came back
it was sitting on the desk face up. No note or anything."

"Okay, thank
you, Fred," I nodded as I walked to the elevator and pressed the button. I
debated about whether I should open the envelope, and then decided that it
would probably be better to have someone else present when I did it, so I
tucked it in my briefcase and went upstairs.

My apartment felt
very empty after everything that had happened over the past few days, but it
was nice to kick off my shoes and get out of the clothes that I'd been wearing
for over twenty-four hours. I smiled as I pulled off my blouse and dropped it
and my skirt in the dry-cleaning pile, remembering the way that Dax had quickly
removed them both.

I went into the
bathroom and turned on the shower. As I waited for it to warm up, I looked at
myself in the mirror and ran a hand through my hair as I recalled the way that
Dax had touched me. I knew that getting involved with him was complicated and
potentially dangerous, but I couldn't help myself. He was unlike any other man
I'd ever fallen for, and he had ignited a passion in me that I'd never felt
before. The fact that I was his legal representative made the situation incredibly
complicated and presented an ethical challenge that I'd never run up against.
But I thought about the way he'd touched me and held me, and I knew that I was
willing to risk it for the chance to feel that way again. Even for a moment.

I stepped into the
shower and let the hot water flow over my body as I turned my thoughts to the
case. Where was Beck? Why was someone trying to frame Dax for Lydia's murder?
Where in the hell had Roger gone and why hadn't he checked in after going to
the marina? What was in the envelope?

I let the
questions swirl around in my head without trying to answer them as I scrubbed
away the previous day. By the time I stepped out of the shower, I felt
refreshed and ready to face the day's tasks, despite having had no sleep. I pulled
on a soft robe and went out to the kitchen to make myself a pot of coffee and
read my mail.

I glanced at the
envelope Fred had given me, and then on a whim, decided to open it. I grabbed a
knife from the kitchen and sliced open the top, careful not to disturb the
taped flap. I reached inside and pulled out a stack of what looked like
photographs that had been duplicated using a copier. The top photos were
pictures of a woman I recognized as Lydia Banks. They were normal, everyday
photos of her going to the grocery store, walking from her car to the office,
and out running in the park. I was puzzled as to why someone would send me such
average ordinary shots of her.

Until I came to
the last sheet in the pile. It was a picture of Lydia sitting in LID having
lunch with Dax. She was smiling and her hand was extended across the table
resting on top of his. I couldn't see his expression because he had his back to
the camera, but it was obvious they were enjoying each other's company. I felt
a wave of jealousy wash over me as I looked at the other woman in the photo.
She looked happy and relaxed, and she was sitting in the exact same place that
I'd been sitting earlier today. Doing almost the exact same thing that I'd been
doing.

Maybe everyone was
right. Maybe Dax really was just an expert manipulator who knew how to charm a
woman in order to get her into his bed. Maybe I was just a naive fool who was
seeing only what I wanted to see and not what was standing right in front of
me. Maybe I was falling for a murderer and would become one of those sad women
who everyone thought was so deluded. Maybe he'd use me and then discard me. The
thoughts raced through my brain one after another until I wanted to scream.