White Collared Part One: Mercy (3 page)

Chapter Four

F
LASHES OF LIGHT
blinded her as they stepped outside of the station. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she glimpsed the swarm of reporters, photographers, and videographers shining bright spotlights on them.

“Jaxon! Is it true you’re a sadist?”

“Did you kill your wife?”

Tons of questions flew at Jaxon from every direction, the buzzards circling them as if they were rotting carcasses.

The door behind her swung open and Detective Lawrence swaggered out, his arms waving at the reporters in a half-assed attempt to get them to leave. The cop was reveling in his fifteen minutes of fame, bellowing to the frenzied crowd of blood-thirsty piranhas to “give them some space.”

Anyone who defended the press as only doing their job had obviously never been subjected to the media’s unapologetic barrage of emotionally charged questions or intense scrutiny. They didn’t see you as human. You were a caged animal for them to poke with their sharp spears, and then they laughed when they brought you to tears.

“What happened in the woods?”

“Is it true your mother asked the assistant district attorney to try you as an adult?”

“Were you being abused?”

Like a deer staring down the barrel of a shotgun, she froze in her tracks. Dark spots floated in her eyes, and the cacophony morphed into a whooshing in her ears.

Her chest burned.

She couldn’t breathe.

The clawing need to escape strangled her as the ground tilted below her numb feet and her trembling legs buckled.

And then . . . heat. The comforting, woodsy scent of Christmas morning surrounded her, eased her.

Reality returned and with it the persistent shouts of the reporters.

She was in front of the police station, burrowed into the woolen side of a man who felt like . . . home. His arm banded around her waist, supporting her. Sheltering her. This man had learned her weakness and could use it against her. But who was he?

Raising her head, she discovered the identity of her chivalrous rescuer.

Jaxon.

He peered down at her, his concern for her evident in his scotch-colored eyes. “You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She allowed herself another ten seconds of bliss before she pulled back. “I’m fine.” After fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, she unzipped her purse and retrieved another pill. She slipped it on her tongue, the action itself providing some relief. Jaxon’s hand cupped her shoulder. He’d already witnessed her panic attack. What difference did it make if he knew she took antianxiety medication now and then?

Bravely positioned in the middle of the crowd, Mr. Trenton projected his voice over the noisy reporters. “I’ll give a brief statement, but I will not answer any questions at this time.” When he captured their attention, he continued. “This morning, Jaxon Deveroux came home and found his wife’s body. He called the police, has cooperated fully, and will continue to work with them to bring Alyssa Deveroux’s murderer to justice. Having no bearing on this matter, the private sexual relationship between Jaxon and Alyssa Deveroux should remain exactly that: private. The focus of this investigation should be on finding the murderer and not rendering moral judgments on the Deveroux’ alleged sexual practices. At this time, we ask the media to respect his wishes and allow him the opportunity to mourn his wife.”

With a jab of his chin in the direction of the parking lot, Mr. Trenton signaled to them to make their move. Jaxon entwined their fingers and squeezed, silently reiterating his promise to protect her. She swallowed her fear, and he led her through the mayhem to the curb.

A man wearing a suit but resembling a linebacker held open the back door of a dark, nondescript BMW and ushered Jaxon inside. Before she could process the scene, the man jogged to the front, got into the driver’s seat, and sped away.

“Private security,” Mr. Trenton explained, obviously noticing Kate’s confusion, and he hustled her, his hand on her elbow, to his car. The reporters scattered to their vehicles in an effort to follow Jaxon.

One of the perks of being an overnight celebrity. Loss of privacy.

The media didn’t care if you hadn’t asked to be a celebrity. Didn’t care if you just lost the only person who ever loved you. Didn’t care if you were fourteen. They thrust you in the limelight. They may have blacked out your face and left out your name, but everyone knew it was you. You couldn’t hide. So you stopped hiding and gave them a show.

When they arrived back at the firm’s parking structure, he placed the car in park and shifted his weight in his seat to face her.

She bit the inside of her cheek as he studied her intently. She waited for the inevitable.

“I’m going pass some of your existing caseload to Hannah.”

And there it was. “I’m sorry for drawing attention in the interrogation room. If you give me another chance, I promise to do better.”

Small creases formed on his forehead. “Why are you apologizing?”

“You just fired me.”

The creases smoothed, replaced by wrinkles around his eyes. “You misunderstood, Ms. Martin. I want you to second chair on the Deveroux matter. I can already anticipate Jaxon’s case taking up much of your time. It’s got to be your top priority at work.”

Relieved, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. He hadn’t fired her. In fact, she’d have the chance to work even closer with him and learn the potential complexities of a criminal case. “Why wouldn’t you have Mr. Reaver second chair? After all, he has the experience—”

He frowned. “Jaxon doesn’t want Reaver. He wants me and I want you. I shouldn’t tell you this, but when you submitted your resume to become my intern, Reaver fought to have you assigned to him. After all, it’s not every day we get a National Criminal Law Trial Advocacy champion applying for an internship at Joseph and Long.”

Not since Nick. According to the interviews she’d read, the competition had given him the edge he’d needed to win a coveted slot as Miles Joseph’s intern. Which was why she also entered the competition. “I would have turned him down since I have no interest in pursuing a career in criminal law.”

He nodded. “That’s what I told him. You obviously have a gift in the courtroom whether you ultimately choose civil or criminal law. I’m offering you a chance to put your gift to work. Not for a trophy and a couple hundred dollars but for real. This will make your career. You’ll have every law firm in the country clamoring to hire you when you graduate next summer. I believe in you. You’re fully capable of handling this case. I wouldn’t risk my best friend’s freedom.”

Second chair meant she’d be the second in command, a position typically reserved for a senior attorney or more advanced associates. As Mr. Trenton’s right hand, she’d be responsible for research and motion preparation, depositions, exhibits, and trial prep. And if Jaxon went to trial, she’d sit beside Mr. Trenton in the courtroom. Although she was an intern, she’d be permitted to examine the witnesses. Excitement shot through her. “I know you wouldn’t, and I appreciate you having faith in me.”

“There’s something about you that goes beyond the mere intelligence and drive I’ve seen in previous interns. You remind me of myself at your age.”

He didn’t know he’d just paid her the highest compliment. How embarrassed would she be if he discovered she idolized him to the point of collecting clippings of him throughout the years? “Thank you.”

“Ms. Martin, may I call you Kate?”

His voice went slightly husky and her body responded, her nipples tightening beneath her lacy bra. “Yes, sir.”

“When we’re alone, you can call me Nick.” Her heart danced when he reached his hand out as if he was going to touch her. At the last second, he relaxed it on the headrest inches from her shoulder. “I’ve watched you this month. You don’t take care of yourself. You don’t take breaks for meals, and when you do, they’re in the form of vending machine foods and coffee.”

She shivered. “How do you know that?”

“I told you. I’ve watched you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth and then up to her eyes once more.

Was she imagining the sparks between them? What was wrong with her to have such a strong attraction to both her boss and her client? Both men were completely off-limits. Besides, she was in love with Tom. Wasn’t she?

“There’s another reason you remind me of myself at your age. I was also eager to prove myself. You’re at your desk when I leave at night and you’re there when I arrive in the morning.” He said it as if it were a bad thing.

“And look where that hard work got you.”

“What it got me was a bleeding ulcer and a few days in the hospital. The thing about control is that it’s limited. We don’t choose to get sick and we certainly can’t choose not to vomit blood during finals.”

Her jaw dropped. “Did that really happen?”

“Yes. It was the fall semester of my third year, and I was in the same spot as you: an intern at Joseph and Long, only I worked for Miles Joseph. If you think I’m a taskmaster, you should try interning for him for a week. I lived off coffee and donuts. I didn’t get more than four or five hours of sleep a night, and I popped Tums like they were candy. Who had time to stop and worry about stomach pain and a little blood when my career was at stake? I was in the middle of my ethics exam when it happened. I didn’t even make it to the bathroom. Vomited blood all over the guy next to me and then passed out cold. Woke up in the hospital and all I cared about was I hadn’t finished my exam. They had to sedate me to keep me from leaving.”

Although she’d like to think she was different, she would’ve done the same. “Wouldn’t your professor allow you to take the exam?”

“Of course. Attorneys aren’t complete sadists,” he said with a straight face. Then he laughed. “Sorry, bad joke.” He continued, shrugging. “I wasn’t rational. Then Mr. Joseph paid me a visit in the hospital. I thought he’d fire me. Instead, he sat down in the chair next to my bed and told me a story about how he’d gotten so successful. All the typical bullshit about studying hard, kissing ass, and exploring as many opportunities as life presented. He wished me well and then got up and started walking out, but he stopped at the door. He turned around, raised one finger, and said, ‘In the end, you always have to watch out for yourself.’”

“That was nice of him.”

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “
Then
he fired me.”

He said it so casually, she didn’t believe him. “No, you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

There had to be a moral to this story. “He fired you because you were working too hard, right?”

“No.” He dropped his hand from the headrest onto her shoulder and squeezed it. “He fired me because I couldn’t do my job while in the hospital, which meant I couldn’t get him the brief he needed, resulting in him having to explain to the judge why it wasn’t submitted on time. Let’s face it: the judges don’t give a shit what your excuse is. He got extra time, but I’d made him look bad. He had to fire me because he had to look out for himself first.”

Her shoulder tingled from the brief contact of his warm hand. “That’s cruel. You couldn’t help it. You were in the hospital.”

“If I had taken better care of myself, gotten more sleep, eaten healthy, listened to what my body was trying to tell me, I wouldn’t have ended up with a bleeding ulcer, and I wouldn’t have disappointed Mr. Joseph. He did me a favor when he fired me because I never made that kind of mistake again. I learned to take care of my own needs first.”

“It worked out for you. You ended up as senior partner, so Mr. Joseph and you must have stayed friendly.”

He huffed. “I don’t think anyone could call Mr. Joseph friendly. But we each had something to gain by working with the other, and so we’ve maintained an
amicable
relationship throughout the years.” Nick’s emphasis on the word amicable made her think it wasn’t amicable at all. “I don’t want you ending up like me. Learn from my mistakes. I don’t expect you to work more than ten hours a day, including meals, Monday through Friday, unless I specifically request it. And by meals, I don’t mean coffee and a bag of pretzels. After work, go home, relax, and get a good night’s sleep. Your weekends are yours, but don’t overdo the fun. You don’t want to drag yourself in on Monday too sluggish to give me your all.”

How long had it been since she’d gone to a movie with Tom or to the bar with friends? She couldn’t remember a weekend she hadn’t spent in the office.

“I don’t think I’m on my way to an ulcer, but I appreciate the advice. When I applied for the internship, I never expected to have the opportunity to learn so much. I thought I’d spend the year as your lemming.” She tried to pass it off as a joke, but she wasn’t kidding. Since her first term in law school, she’d learned everything she could about Nicholas Trenton. The phrase she heard over and over was “sadistic taskmaster.” In exchange for gaining the experience as his intern, you gave up life as you knew it. He owned you. Now she wondered if it was all a way to limit the competition for the position. Because if anything, Nick was proving to be the opposite.

“As your mentor and your boss, it’s my responsibility to ensure you learn balance. This career can swallow you whole if you allow it. I don’t want that to happen to you.” Something resembling interest flickered in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it. “Go home, get some rest, and if something comes up with the case, I’ll give you a call. Keep your cell phone near you even at night. I’ll see you at nine tomorrow morning.”

She gathered her things, and as she slammed the car door shut, she thought she heard him say, “Sweet dreams, Kate.”

His last words still ringing in her ears, she carried her briefcase toward the cars and, knowing he was watching, took out her keys as she stood in front of a black Ford Fusion. She waved to him, giving the all clear for him to leave.

When he drove away and she could no longer see him, she strolled to her bike that was tucked into the corner of the garage. She slid into the leather pants she kept in the saddlebag and shimmied off her skirt. After changing into boots, she dropped her work attire into the saddlebag, placed her briefcase in the luggage rack, and swung her leg over the seat.