Hot Secrets (14 page)

“I assume this is about your sister,” Lauren
prodded, eager to get on with this. He was a time bomb she could
almost hear ticking.

“I’ll cut to the chase,” he replied, bypassing a
direct answer. “I know what Beverly did was wrong, but don’t you
think you are being a bit harsh in your quest for the death
penalty? I mean the woman was terrorized by her husband.”

Lauren leaned back in her chair, carefully schooling
her features into an emotionless mask. “Have you talked to your
sister’s attorney about this?”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Funny. That’s exactly
what your father asked me.”

She cringed at the idea that her father had been
dragged into this, but managed to clamp down on an obvious
reaction. “My father is a State Senator. He can’t do anything to
help your sister.”

His lips thinned. “So he says.” He shrugged. “I
guess that means it’s all on you.”

“Unless you have new evidence to present, Mr.
Wilkins, this case is in the jury’s hands.”

He leaned forward and pressed his hands onto the
desk. “I’m Special Forces. I was away on a mission. I’m all she has
since our father died last year. She married that bastard when I
was in deep combat territory, and instead of taking care of her, he
beat the crap out of her. Had I been here, things might have been
different. Had I even known what was going on, things would have
been different.”

“I can see how much this is upsetting you,” she
said. “And I understand. But a man is dead and buried, Mr. Wilkins,
and his family is in pain. They want his side of the story
told.”

He pushed to his feet, his voice rising with him. “I
let her down. She was desperate to survive. Don’t you understand
her need to end the pure hell she was living? Do you have no heart,
Ms. Reynolds?”

Her heart was what made her job both difficult and
rewarding. The victim of this crime was dead, but his family
painfully lived on. “Look, Mr. Wilkins. I want to help but I need
new evidence. Something to clear your sister. Have your sister’s
attorney call me. I’ll talk to him.”

He stared down at her, his jaw tight, his breathing
a little too fast. “This isn’t over,” he said in a low, threatening
voice, before turning and storming out of her office.

Stunned, Lauren read the threat he intended. She
watched him leave, fingertips pressed to the top of her desk. It
wasn’t until she heard the front lobby door slam that she realized
she was holding her breath and her hand was shaking. She exhaled,
rattled when she normally wouldn’t be. And she knew why. The calls,
the calendar sheets. Royce’s paranoia over them. All those things
were messing with her head and that meant whoever sent them was
getting their way, and she didn’t want to give them that
satisfaction. She had to shake this off.

Her intercom buzzed again and Lauren punched the
button. “You okay in there?” Alice asked, concern in her voice.

“Yeah,” Lauren said. “I assume he’s gone?”

“Oh, he’s gone,” she said in a disgusted tone. “And
he did so quite loudly.”

“I heard but I wanted to be sure.”

“I called the building security and alerted them
when I heard him raise his voice in your office. And you have a
call. Mark Reeves.”

Beverly’s attorney, and the timing was just too
perfect. “Put him through,” she ground out through her teeth.

Alice transferred the call through, and Lauren
answered, and she didn’t hold back, nor did she bother with
‘hello’. “Sending your client’s relatives over here to harass me
into giving you a plea deal is not only not cool, it doesn’t seem
like your style.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just
got your message, and was returning your call.”

“
I was returning your call from Friday,” she corrected. “And
Jonathan Wilkins just paid me a delightful little visit. One that
ended in a threat and a slammed door.”

“Ouch, Lauren. I’m sorry. I had nothing to do with
that. I talked to him this morning and told him a deal wasn’t
looking good for Beverly. He wasn’t happy.”

“No. No, he wasn’t. How about warning me when you
have a loose cannon? We might not be on the same team, but we
aren’t enemies.”

“He’s Special Ops. I thought he had more control
than this. He’s just another reason to put this behind us. Let’s
talk plea bargain and avoid the trial. Save us both a lot of time
and headaches.”

“Not unless you’ve changed your last proposal.”

“The jury will be sympathetic to a battered woman,”
he argued.

“You mean a cold blooded killer who meticulously
planned her husband’s slow death. Poison has precedence in the
courts. The death penalty is a strong possibility, and you know
it.”

“Wouldn’t you rather get a sure conviction than risk
her walking? I’m good, and you know it. I’m willing to listen to
any reasonable deal. Make me an offer.”

“
First, let me say this, I’m good and you know it.” He
chuckled into the phone as she added, “That said, you already know
my offer, and that’s
no
offer.”

“
And you know that’s not reasonable,” he argued. “Second
degree with an established time period for possible parole. I can
guarantee my client will accept if the parole period is
reasonable.”

“You’re joking, right?” she said sharply. “I would
never let her see parole. Forget it.”

“She’s young, a mother of two. Have some heart.”

“Life without parole,” Lauren countered.

“You can’t win a first degree charge and a death
penalty sentencing.”

She clenched her teeth. “Then what are you worried
about? If I overcharge then I’ll be the one with regrets. Think
Casey Anthony. I am and I know I have the backup they didn’t to
support my charges. And let me remind you about State vs. Norman.
The wife killed her husband in his sleep stating she thought he
would kill her when he woke. The Supreme Court said, “If we allowed
this behavior, homicidal self help”

“Would then become a lawful solution and perhaps the
easiest and most effective solution to this problem.” He paused. “I
am well aware of the ruling.”

“So you know I’ll win,” she stated with
confidence.

“Juries are a fifty-fifty bet.” He sighed. “I can
tell we are at a standstill.”

“I respect you, Mark. I know you believe in this
woman, but you’re wrong on this one. I wish you weren’t, but you
are.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he said.
“Otherwise we’ll take our chances with the jury.”

“I guess we will.”

A few seconds later, they’d said their niceties and ended
the call. Her buzzer went off immediately and that was how the next
few hours went for her. When Lauren finally managed a breather, she
intended to review a file, but instead found herself replaying the
moment she’d dropped that sheet and pressed herself against
Royce.

“What are you smiling about?”

Lauren’s gaze lifted to the doorway, to find Julie
standing there, her simple black suit hugging her voluptuous
curves, her long blonde hair resting on her shoulders. “I want
details about this weekend.”

Lauren glanced at her watch to see if she had lost
track of time. “I thought you were going to call me and make sure I
could do lunch?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, well, that gave you a chance to
say ‘no.’”

“It’s only eleven o’clock.”

“So?” Julie said, claiming the chair Beverly’s
brother had been in earlier that morning. “It’s late enough to
qualify as lunchtime.”

“I really need to work through lunch. Don’t you have
any work to do?”

“
No morning appointments. I delve into another divorce with
the rich and famous again this afternoon. You know Gina
Garrett?”

Lauren blinked. “The actress?”

“The one and only. My newest client among quite a
few celebrities. Seems I’ve been named the attorney of choice when
discretion is valued.”

Laughing, Lauren said, “Yeah, well, you’ve earned
that. You are responsible for divorcing at least half a
professional baseball team.”

“And quite discreetly, I might add.” They shared a
laugh before Julie asked, “Can you at least go downstairs and have
coffee with me?”

“
I better not,” Lauren said reluctantly. A good talk with
Julie would be well timed. She hadn’t told her about the calls or
the calendar pages, because she knew Julie. Julie would call in the
National Guard, but she needed to tell her. She needed her friend,
but she was way behind on her trial prep. And then there was her
promise to Royce to stay in the building. “Could you grab us some
coffee and we can talk here? There’s actually a few things I’d
rather talk about in private.”

Julie’s brows dipped. “Everything okay?”

“
Not really.
No.
No, it’s not.”

“What did Royce do to you? Tell me now because I
swear”

“He didn’t do anything,” Lauren said, foreseeing the
National Guard call already. “It’s not Royce.”

Julie studied her a moment. “Okay. I’ll go get the coffee,
and bring it to you so you can work until I get back.”

Giving in, Lauren motioned for Julie to go. “That’s
good. And yes, I’ll be here when you get back, working, unlike some
people I know.”

“Hey, you choose the type of law you do. I get paid
well, and work less.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “So you remind me all too
often.” She shooed her away. “Go, woman. Get the coffee.”

Julie disappeared, and Lauren began taking notes on
her case until Alice buzzed her yet again. “Do I really want to
know what this is about?” Lauren asked when she punched the
button.

“No,” Alice said. “Which is why I should just
anticipate your response and tell your caller you’re busy.”

“Who is it?”

“Roger.”

What the heck was her ex calling her for? “Tell him I left
for lunch.” Lauren looked up to find Julie entering her office with
two cups of coffee. “And just so you don’t have to lie, Alice,” she
added, “I really am leaving.” To heck with staying in the building.
She couldn’t act like a prisoner and stay sane.

“Consider it handled,” Alice said. “And there’s a
package for you up front.”

Probably the psychologist reviews for the upcoming
trial. She already knew what it said. “I’ll pick it up on my way
back from lunch.”

Julie’s brows dipped. “Now we’re going to
lunch?”

Lauren pushed to her feet and grabbed her purse with
one hand, the coffee with the other. “Yes. Roger just called.
Somehow, just hearing his name made me claustrophobic.”

“What did that jerk want?” She shook her head.

“Every dime my father is worth,” she said. “The same
thing he always wants.”

***

A few minutes later, Lauren stepped onto the street
with Julie by her side, fighting guilt over leaving the building,
telling herself this was nuts. She’d had threats before. They
wouldn’t go away and she just had to lift her head and carry on. In
fact, she had to look unruffled or she’d look like an easy target.
Royce didn’t understand that, and she had to make him.

She chatted with Julie, telling her about her
morning confrontation, when an uneasy feeling rushed over her. Damn
it, she liked Royce, but he really was messing with her head.
Feeling a sudden need to free her hands, she paused at a trash can
and tossed her untouched coffee, then slid her purse strap across
her shoulder and chest.

“That coffee cost me five bucks,” Julie complained.
“You didn’t touch it.”

“It had a bitter taste.”

“Oh well, then I’ll complain when we go back to your
building. Now, talk, girl. Details on Royce and now. If he’s as
good as he looks, oh baby, I know what kind of weekend you
had.”

Lauren struggled for a reply, distracted by a sense
of being watched. “He’s different than other men I’ve know.”

“Different how?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out,” Lauren
said, stepping to a curb packed with pedestrians, the proverbial
sardine can of New Yorkers this busy area created.

“You know I’m not going to accept that answer.”

The light remained red but people darted across the
street anyway, dodging cars. “Yes, I know,” Lauren assured her, as
several people shoved her and Julie.

Julie grabbed Lauren to keep from falling. “Damn New
Yorkers.”

“We’re New Yorkers,” Lauren reminded her when a
sharp burning sensation on her arm had her jerking to her left, to
the many bodies surrounding her. “Ouch. Oh God.” Her hand flew to
the point of discomfort, pain radiating from hand to shoulder.
“Damn, damn.” She grabbed Julie’s arm. “Don’t cross. I need out of
this crowd.” She moved away from the curb, with Julie on her
heels.

“What happened?” Julie asked urgently. “What’s
wrong?

“I don’t know.” Lauren lifted her arm to show Julie,
and pulled at her sleeve, trying to see the damage, and finding a
large burn hole in the material.

“
Holy moly,” Julie said. “Some asshole burned you with a
cigarette. I swear it looks like someone shoved it at you and held
it there. Your sleeve is too poofy for it to get to your skin
easily.”

“Apparently it’s not.”

“We need to get you some ice quickly. Those kinds of
burns hurt like a bitch. I know. My mom smokes and I landed at the
end of her cigarette more than once as a kid.”

Lauren looked down at her throbbing arm, the pain growing
with each passing second. The hole in her sleeve seemed overly
large, and she suddenly wasn’t so sure this was an accident or a
cigarette at all. “Ice.” Lauren agreed. “Yes. I need
ice.”

“Damn cigarette smokers,” Julie muttered. “Why in
the hell does a person light up in a crowd like that?” She paused,
her brows dipping. “You okay, sweetie? You’re really pale.”