Bringing Benjy Home (Security Ops) (9 page)

“We need to know whether he masterminded this whole lot,” Jaida said, frowning. “If he’s as obsessed as you say he’s capable of anything. We have to be certain—”

“
We
don’t have to be certain of anything,” he corrected her. “Penning is being taken care of. There’s no need for you to concern yourself about him.” He stopped then, having said lore than he wanted. The events here had circumvented his normal caution. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she repeated softly to his retreating back. The door closed behind him quietly. Reaching down to the foot of the bed, she retrieved the rest of her covers. No doubt by morning Trey would regret his uncustomary candor. But his disclosure about William Penning had been valuable indeed. It was apparent that no one knew for sure whether Penning was involved.

And she was the only one who could find out.

Sunlight flooded the room, filling it with an uncomfortable amount of warmth. Trey woke up perspiring, squinting into the bright room. He hadn’t bothered to pull the shades after he’d come in off the balcony, wouldn’t have seen a need to if he had thought of it. He rarely slept much past dawn. But it had been late when he’d returned from Jaida’s room, later still before he’d finally slept. Even then his slumber hadn’t been restful. It had been filled with a mysterious specter with moon-glow hair who gave voice to the thoughts in the recesses of his mind.

He got out of bed and padded to the bathroom. While he showered he went over the conversation he’d had with Jaida the night before, and discovered her insight still had the power to make him uncomfortable. He searched his memory for something he might have said that would have led to her remarks.

By the time he’d finished shaving and gotten dressed he was no closer to figuring out the source of her knowledge. Having learned from his mistake of the night before, he knocked on the adjoining door this time. On the day of Jaida’s certain departure from his life he was feeling somewhat magnanimous. He’d be willing to take her to breakfast, to see if her appetite of yesterday was only a fluke. He knocked again, and still there was no answer. Letting himself into the room, he strode to her bed. On the table next to it was a note addressed to him. Reading the brief message, he cursed, then crumpled it in his palm. What “matter” could possibly have needed her attention today?

And why did her disappearance make him so damn nervous?

It was shortly after one o’clock when Jaida walked into the law office of Penning and Associates. After inquiring for directions, she made her way down the hallway to the corner suite of rooms. She paused for a moment to appreciate the beauty in the etched glass panel of the door, then pushed it open to find herself in an elegantly furnished waiting room. The man at the desk was probably close to her age, she estimated. His dark hair was thinning on top, and he looked up from his computer and surveyed her disapprovingly through gold-framed glasses.

“I believe you have the wrong office,” he informed her dismissively.

She tried a tentative smile, one that had no visible effect on him. “I don’t think so. I’m here to see Mr. William Penning.”

“You don’t have an appointment,” the man stated surely, not even consulting the book on his desk.

“No, I . . .”

“Mr. Penning sees no one without an appointment.” He went back to his typing.

“Perhaps I can make an appointment,” Jaida offered.

The typing never ceased. “He’s booked through the rest of the month. If you have a legal matter to take care of, I suggest you find someone else.”

“It has to be Mr. Penning.”

The man sighed heavily and stopped typing. “He will be in conference for the rest of the afternoon. Perhaps you’d like to leave a message with me.”

Jaida smiled serenely. “No, thank you. I’ll wait.”

The man tried, with diminishing degrees of diplomacy, to dissuade her. Finally, he turned back to his typing, his fingers flying over the keys more furiously than ever, as if by ignoring her he could make her go away.

Three hours later Jaida had decided that the disagreeable man had the makings of a sadist. He’d poured himself several cups of coffee and even nibbled at a sandwich at his desk. He never addressed another word to her, didn’t even look in her direction. She spent her time dismally counting the meals she’d missed recently and spinning fantasies about ways she’d like to see Penning’s secretary spend the rest of his days. Choking on his keyboard.

When the desk phone rang, Jaida straightened. The man listened and then said, “Very well, sir, I’ll see to it.” Hanging up the receiver, he shot a superior smile in Jaida’s direction. “Mr. Penning will be leaving for the day now. I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time.” His tone was smug.

The inner door to the office opened then, and two men dressed in suits came out. One walked by Jaida and left the area, and the other stopped at the secretary’s desk. Jaida stood up, nervously smoothing the wrinkles from the royal-blue dress she’d bought that morning. She’d purchased it, along with the matching shoes, with total confidence in her ability to pull this charade off. But now that the moment had come, her stomach was fluttering wildly.

The man in the suit turned away from the secretary’s desk and saw Jaida for the first time. “Roland,” he said. “You didn’t tell me I had a client.”

“You don’t, Mr. Penning.” Roland’s voice held a hint of peevishness. “This young . . . woman does not have an appointment, but she refused to leave, even when I told her how full your calendar is.”

“I had to see you, Mr. Penning,” Jaida said quickly. “I’m terribly sorry to bother you like this—I know you’re a busy man—but this was the only opportunity I had.” Her breathlessness wasn’t completely contrived. “Please, I only want a minute of your time.”

“As I tried to tell you repeatedly, Miss—” Roland began.

“Never mind, Roland,” Penning said, without taking his eyes from Jaida. “I think I can spare this young lady a few minutes.” He held out a hand for her to precede him into his office.

Jaida hoped her inner reluctance didn’t show as she walked into the office. Penning closed the door behind her and stepped around his desk to his chair. He indicated a chair in front of his desk, and Jaida sank into it. If the outer office seemed lavish, this room was opulent. Rows of windows were at Penning’s back, offering a magnificent view of the skyline. But it was the man, not the room, that commanded attention.

Lauren’s husband was arrestingly handsome, with dark hair combed straight back from an aristocratic forehead. His nose was slightly long and aquiline. His eyes were dark and fathomless. Jaida didn’t have to fake speechlessness for the first few moments. She couldn’t imagine Lauren married to this man. He exuded money and power. And something else, something infinitely more disturbing.

It wasn’t until he glanced at the gold watch on his wrist that Jaida was propelled to speech. “I apologize again for dropping in like this, Mr. Penning. Now that I’m actually here, I can’t believe I had the nerve.” That was certainly true enough, she thought a little frantically. “The truth is . . .” She took a deep breath. “I’m a law student. Or at least,” she corrected herself, “I
will
be a law student. Actually, I’ve been working a few years, trying to earn enough money for college, where I’ll major in prelaw. But I’ve been doing some studying on my own, and your cases intrigued me.” She turned wide eyes on him. “I just had to meet you while I was here.”

“And your name . . .” He cocked his head slightly.

“Oh!” She raised her hand to her cheek in feigned embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! It’s Rhodes. Gwen Rhodes.”

“Rhodes.” He leaned back in his chair, surveying her over a steeple he’d made with his fingers. “Are you by any chance related to Arthur Rhodes of Boston?”

Jaida let her expression go blank. “No, sir. Not that I know of. I’m not from around here.”

A small smile played across his mouth. “Of course not, not with that delightful accent. I’d place you in . . . South Carolina? Or is it Georgia?”

She smiled in return. “I am from Georgia, although I’ve lived with my sister and her husband in Maine for the past four years. But I plan to—”

“Go into law,” Penning finished for her, his opaque eyes intent on her. “So you’ve said. With those looks, you’ll go far.”

She couldn’t prevent herself from stiffening slightly at the blatantly sexist remark. Her reaction didn’t escape his observant eyes.

“I hope I haven’t offended you—” he paused inquiringly over her title “—Miss Rhodes?” At her nod, he continued smoothly. “That certainly wasn’t my intent. My meaning is that a good lawyer must be a powerful lawyer. And a powerful lawyer has presence. Do you understand me?”

Jaida shook her head.

“A lawyer has to put everything he or—” he nodded toward her “—she has into a case. All your knowledge, all your skill will not necessarily be enough to win. You, the lawyer, are also a tool in trying a case. And you need to use every accessory you have when you’re in front of a jury.”

“You mean the lawyer is an influencer in his or her own right.”

Penning nodded approvingly. “Exactly. Some lawyers are gifted with marvelously modulated voices, the mere sound of which has the jury following every word they utter. Others command by their stature, and still others by—”

“Their presence,” she said softly, and he inclined his head in agreement. “I think I understand.” And she did. She could only imagine the effect this man would have on a jury. The aura of power about him made him a commanding individual.

“What brings you to Boston, Miss Rhodes?”

“I’ve been living with my sister and her family, and they summer at the Cape,” Jaida lied. “I enjoy following your cases in the newspapers.” She thought she saw a glint appear in his eye for a moment, and then it was gone. She affected an ingenuous shrug. “It took me all summer to gather up the courage to approach you like this.”

“I’m very glad you did,” he murmured, his dark eyes revealing nothing. “Tell me, Miss Rhodes, which of my cases intrigued you the most?”

His question made her palms dampen, and she had to fight the urge to wipe them on her dress. She thanked God she’d thought to do a little homework before coming here. “I think I was most curious about the
State of Massachusetts v. Marcus Temple
.”

His eyebrows raised. “That case attracted much media attention. It was very complex.” He leaned forward and placed his folded hands on his desk. “Earlier you mentioned being intrigued by my cases. Now you admit to being curious.” At her silence, he chided, “Come, now, Gwen, don’t be shy. I’m very interested in hearing what arouses your curiosity.”

Jaida bit her lip, feigning consternation. “I feel silly questioning you, Mr. Penning. But it seemed as if you were more a focus of the case than was your client. All those motions and countermotions, claiming bias on the part of the judge. It seemed to draw attention away from the facts you were presenting.”

He leaned back in his chair again, rocking a little. “Ah, but Miss Rhodes, it did set the stage for an appeal, should the jury have found my client guilty. Given the judge’s bias, of course. I’m sure you’ll be wonderfully inventive on behalf of your own clients, once you’ve had the proper training. Where do you intend to go to school?”

“Mississippi University.” She nodded toward the diploma hanging on the wall next to his desk. “Harvard doesn’t fit my budget, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he murmured, his eyes trailing over her face and wandering down her figure. “You may go much further than you think.”

Jaida barely managed to contain a shudder. She suddenly wondered how much longer she could stand to be in the man’s presence. He made her flesh crawl.

When he checked his watch again, Jaida stood up, eager to have a reason to leave. “I’m sorry—I’ve kept you late enough. And I need to get back to work.”

“What is it you do?” he inquired, rising to round the desk toward her.

“Oh,” she said, managing a little laugh. “I’ve been a nanny for my sister’s two children for the past four years. They’re precious, but wearing. Still, I will miss them when I leave to start school.” He came to stand near her and she glanced up at him artlessly. “Do you have children, Mr. Penning?”

His smile never faltered. “Unfortunately, no. I’m not married.”

He put his hand possessively on the small of her back to usher her to the door, and Jaida trembled in reaction. She’d spent a great deal of time over the years avoiding human touch and the bombardment of sensation it could elicit. It was a curious turn of events to try to direct her ability, to use it for her own purposes. But this man’s presence was too strong to be denied. The sense of evil that surrounded him was like a noxious gas, and she almost wavered in her resolve.

“I’d be glad to help you with any other questions you might have,” Penning was saying. “It’s been a long time since I had your kind of . . . passion . . . for the law.”

He halted her before opening the door from his office, and she used the opportunity to step away from his touch, turning to face him.

“Perhaps over dinner some night?”

Everything inside her rebelled at the idea. There was no need for further pretense; she had gotten all the answers she needed from this man. Now she just wanted to flee from his presence. “Maybe I can call you,” she said. “My sister and I will be coming back to the city in two weeks. Although you may want to rescind your offer. My appetite is legendary in my family.” He opened the door and Jaida forced herself not to run. The air in the outer office seemed fresher somehow, and she took a deep breath.