Shame on Him

by Tara Sivec

  “Oh that’s really mature,” I fire back. I’m immediately disappointed in myself for letting him get to me.

  It’s no secret to anyone that Dallas Osborne and I don’t exactly get along. He owns Osborne Investigations here in Granger, and Fool Me Once partners up with him every once in a while when we need backup on a case. We’ve known each other for about three months—three long months of hating the sight of each other.

  A few weeks ago he helped Paige bring down one of the most notorious mob bosses in Indiana. One would think that since he helped out my friend and regularly helps out my company that I would be appreciative of him. Well, one would be wrong.

  I might be more inclined to be nice to him if he wasn’t such a Neanderthal and an arrogant jerk. It also doesn’t help matters that he’s entirely too good-looking and knows it—over six feet of pure muscle and brawn with tattoos up and down his strong arms, short, messy, dark brown hair, and light gray eyes.

  “Is there any particular reason why he’s here?” I ask Ted in annoyance.

  “HE’S here because he was asked to be here,” Dallas answers with smugness.

  Ignoring him, I stare directly at Ted and wait for him to respond.

  “There have been a bunch of budget cuts lately and we’re shorthanded at the department. I asked Dallas to come over to see if he’d be willing to take on this case for us for the time being,” Ted explains.

  My hackles immediately go up and indignation runs through me. “Excuse me? I’m the one who was delivering the subpoena and found the body. If anyone is going to take on this case, it’s going to be me.”

  Kennedy pats me on the back in a show of solidarity and I glare angrily at Dallas, refusing to back down on this.

  “Lorelei, I would love to hand this entire thing over to you guys, but my hands are tied. You guys just don’t have the right kind of experience for this sort of thing,” Ted informs me.

  “Oh, and Mr. Caveman over there does?”

  My eyes still haven’t left Dallas’s, which means I get to see them light up when he smirks at me again.

  Stupid man and his stupid smirk.

  “Well, Lawyer, I used to be a police officer back in the day before I had to retire because of a knee injury. The department hired me to solve this case because of my invaluable knowledge. Which you are obviously lacking.”

  I grit my teeth and clench my hands into fists to avoid punching that mocking smile right off of his too-good-looking face.

  I want this case. I want to find out who killed Richard Covington and prove to myself that this is something I could be really good at. The fact that Dallas can just waltz in here and take it right out of my hands makes me ill.

  “If you want, I could let you help me out. I can always use someone to fetch me coffee and type up my notes,” Dallas says.

  Over my dead body.

  “All right, Dallas, that’s enough. I like you, but don’t make me kick your ass,” Kennedy warns him, coming to my defense.

  What is it about this man that ties me up in knots? I’ve turned down hotter.

  “Sorry, Kennedy. She just makes it so easy,” Dallas says with a laugh.

  Oh, that’s right. He’s a jerk.

  “Dallas, if you want to follow me to the station, I’ll make a copy of Lorelei’s statement for you and also get you a copy of the ME’s findings,” Ted tells him as he heads toward the door of the kitchen.

  “I’ll be right behind you in a few. I just want to check out the crime scene real quick,” Dallas answers.

  Ted nods. “Take your time. Ladies, I’ll talk to you later. Lorelei, if you think of anything else, you can give me a call or just let Dallas know.”

  Yeah, like that’s going to happen.

  “You have my number. Feel free to call me anytime. I probably won’t take your call though, because I’ll be busy solving this case.”

  Dallas salutes Kennedy before sauntering out of the room. I’m appalled with myself that I stare at his firm backside until he disappears from sight.

  “All right, now that they’re gone, here’s what you’re going to do,” Kennedy says, startling me out of my stare. “You’re going to solve this fucking case and show Dallas Osborne where he can stick his Goddamn cockiness.”

  I sigh and shake my head at her. “You heard your brother. I can’t work on this case because I’m not with the department.”

  “Since when do I ever listen to my brother? Fuck him and fuck Dallas. Seriously, you should really consider fucking Dallas. That man is f-i-n-e, fine. And he looks at you like he’s picturing you naked.”

  I scoff at her and roll my eyes. “You’re insane. He can’t stand me. And obviously the feelings are mutual.”

  She raises one eyebrow. “Right. That’s why you stared at his ass when he walked away.”

  I can feel my cheeks heat in embarrassment and I quickly look away from her.

  Kennedy grabs my arm and pulls me off of my stool. “Come on, Paige is still waiting for us at the bar. We’re going to suck back a few drinks and come up with a game plan.”

  I let Kennedy drag me through the house, making sure to keep my eyes straight ahead as we walk past the crime scene. Not just because I don’t want another look at the dead body, but because Dallas is currently bent over said body. It’s like his butt is trying to taunt me.

  Sucking back a few drinks suddenly sounds like a great idea.

  CHAPTER 3

  So, what is this game plan you speak of?” I ask Kennedy and take a sip of my white wine spritzer.

  I wait while she polishes off her glass of draft beer, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth as she sets the empty glass back down on the table with a thunk.

  “The first part of the plan is that you need to stop ordering that girly shit every time we come to the bar. It’s making us look bad.”

  Paige laughs and I shoot her a dirty look.

  “How is what I drink making anyone look bad?”

  Kennedy rests her elbows on the table and leans toward me. “If you want to make it in this business and get Dallas to take you seriously, you need to stop being so . . . boring.”

  I bristle at her comment and Paige reaches over to place her hand on top of my arm. “I think what Kennedy is trying to say is that you need to take some chances. Loosen up a little.”

  Kennedy shrugs and signals the bartender for another round. “Sure, what she said. I know you want to break out of this mold your parents have put you in, but you can’t do that if you continue to do everything exactly the way they would. Drink some beer, curse like a sailor, and for God’s sake, stop using fucking hand sanitizer.”

  I pause with the small bottle in my hand. “I could care less if Dallas Osborne takes me seriously. And really, Kennedy, do you have any idea what kind of germs are on this table?”

  Kennedy rolls her eyes before dramatically thumping her head down on said table.

  “The fact of the matter is, Dallas is in charge of this investigation now,” Paige states. “If you want to get anywhere with this case, you’re going to need to get into his head. Think like he would and do what he would do so you can be one step ahead of him.”

  I’ve played it safe for so long that I’m not even sure if I know how to do something like this, but I’m willing to give it a try. I’ll do just about anything to solve this case, even if it means going to the dark side and getting in Dallas’s disgusting, pigheaded brain. The only problem is, taking on this case means we won’t get paid. If I do this instead of handling one of our other cases, money is going to be tight.

  Kennedy lifts her head from the table. “Forget about the beer and the cursing for right now. The first part of this plan will be a piece of cake for you—research. Find everything and anything you can on the life and times of Richard Covington. And not just the typical stuff like who he was friends with and who had grudges against him. Even information like who he banged in high school and what his favorite foods were could be helpful. Dig up everything you c
an find and then start asking questions.”

  “Are you forgetting the fact that we’re not being paid for this? And if Ted or Dallas finds out what I’m doing, I could get into serious trouble.”

  Not that I really care what Dallas thinks, but I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot at the very beginning.

  “Ted is too busy right now to worry about what you’re doing. And seeing you go against your good-little-lawyer role will throw Dallas off his game. You’ll be able to swoop in and save the day while he’s sitting there with his dick in his hand.”

  I wince. I really didn’t need that mental image in my brain.

  “You could even negotiate with him that if you solve the case, you get the fee,” Kennedy adds.

  She makes it sound so easy. Being able to pay the electric bill next month relies on my solving a crime before Dallas.

  “So, now that that’s settled, can we move on to something vitally important?” Kennedy asks. “Griffin wants to take me away for the weekend in a few weeks. And I’m pretty sure he’s going to propose.”

  An earsplitting scream leaves Paige’s lips and she starts bouncing up and down in her chair.

  Kennedy and I cringe until she finally calms down.

  “Oh, my God! Are you serious? We have to go shopping!” Paige exclaims.

  “How did I know you were going to say that?” Kennedy complains.

  Paige pulls her cell phone out of her purse and clicks on the Internet icon. “We have to get you some sexy lingerie. I think there’s a sale at Victoria’s Secret tomorrow. How do you feel about spray tans?”

  Kennedy’s eyes widen in horror.

  “Nothing drastic, just a dusting of color. We should also get your roots touched up. Are you thinking dress or skirt for the actual proposal? I’m thinking skirt with a nice pair of Gucci snakeskin knee boots,” Paige continues, ignoring Kennedy’s disgusted expression as she searches the Internet.

  “If she forces me to go shopping, you’re coming with me,” Kennedy demands.

  A few hours later, I’m curled up on my couch with a fire in the fireplace, the file for this case and my laptop resting on the arm of the couch next to me.

  I’ve always loved my home. My parents looked down their noses at it when I bought it, which probably convinced me even more that it was the perfect place for me. It’s a small Cape Cod in a development full of nice middle-class families.

  When I graduated from law school, it was assumed I would take a position at my father’s firm in Indianapolis and continue living close to them. After being on my own for so many years at Harvard and finally being able to breathe without their constant interference in my life, I knew as soon as I received my degree that I couldn’t go back there. It was my one and only form of rebellion. Much to my parents’ dismay, I accepted an offer with a firm in South Bend, almost an hour and a half from where they live.

  Unfortunately, it still wasn’t far enough away to avoid their judgment and the hold they continue to have on my life.

  I want them to finally understand that I am my own person and I need to do what makes me happy, not what makes them look good. The idea of taking on a murder case and actually solving it thrills and scares me all at the same time.

  Settling back into the couch, I begin searching the Internet for more information on Richard. I’m going to need to find out a lot more about this man than what I’ve read in magazines. Not only do I need to look deeper into Richard’s background, but also into everyone’s background associated with him. From the articles I’ve read in the past, I know he was married to Stephanie, a woman thirty years his junior (eew). The spouse—especially a soon-to-be ex—is always the first suspect.

  Thinking back over what Kennedy told me, I realize it’s inevitable that I’m going to need to get into Dallas’s head. What would Dallas do in this instance? He would probably do something illegal like search through sealed court documents or break into the ex-wife’s home.

  I’m not ready to go to extremes like that. I’m smart and resourceful and I have tons of legal knowledge at my disposal. I can do this without stooping to his level. Pulling up PACER, the public-access website for court records, I type in Stephanie’s name to see if she’s ever had any trouble with the law or if Richard ever filed any complaints against her.

  The ringing of my cell phone on the cushion next to me pulls my focus away from the screen of my laptop. Glancing at the display, I see that it’s an unknown number. Figuring I need to answer it in case it’s one of my clients calling from a different line, I grab the phone and bring it up to my ear.

  “Lorelei Warner.”

  There’s a snort on the other end of the line. “Wow, you even answer the phone all pretentious.”

  Clenching my teeth, I take a deep breath before answering. “What do you want, Dallas, and how did you get my number?”

  “Awww, don’t be like that, Lawyer. You know you’ve been waiting by the phone for my call,” he tells me with a clear effort to sound sexy.

  No. There is nothing about Dallas Osborne that’s sexy.

  “Sorry to bother you. I’m sure you’re quite busy sitting at home on a Monday night, thinking about how much you hate the male species,” he adds with a laugh.

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  Pulling the phone away, I hear him shout through the line and I slowly bring it back up to my ear.

  “Look, I don’t like you and you don’t like me. Can we call a truce for just one second?” Dallas asks with a sigh.

  Waiting for him to continue, I don’t say a word.

  “I’m going over Ted’s notes from your statement and I can’t read a damn word of his chicken-scratch handwriting. I just need to know whether or not you noticed the front door had been tampered with when you entered Richard Covington’s house,” he explains.

  He wants my assistance with the case that should have been mine. This jerk actually thinks I’m going to help him?

  “You’re absolutely correct. It would probably be the best thing for this case if we put our differences aside. After all, the goal right now is to find out who did this.”

  I hear Dallas sigh in relief. “Exactly. It’s good that you can be the bigger person about this, Lorelei.”

  Hearing my name fall from his lips gives me pause. He’s never said my name before, just variations of insults. I ignore the tug on my heart that it gives me and remember Kennedy’s words: shock him so much that it will throw him off his game.

  “Oh, I’m definitely the bigger person in this instance, Dallas,” I tell him sweetly. “Grab a pen and jot this down.”

  I can hear him rustling around through the line.

  “I’m ready. Go.”

  Channeling Kennedy, I toss aside my uptight nature for just a moment. “I’m going to wipe your ass with this case, Dallas Osborne. When I find out who killed Richard Covington, and I will, I’m going to point and laugh while you’re busy sitting at home on a Monday night with your dick in your hand.”

  Ending the call, I toss my phone onto my coffee table and smile to myself.

  Getting inside Dallas’s head might just be the best advice Kennedy has ever given me.

  CHAPTER 4

  I don’t know why I’m even shocked that you carry tools with you for breaking and entering,” I tell Kennedy as I watch her crouch down in front of Richard Covington’s door.

  It’s been a week since I walked in this house to find Richard shot dead on the floor of his library. I had two cases to try and spent the rest of my time pulling up as much information as I could find on Richard and Stephanie. I probably never should have told Kennedy that I wished I could have an hour inside of Richard’s house to see if I could find anything that would help with the case. An hour later she knocked on my door and told me to wear black and bring a flashlight.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this. You know I could be disbarred for this, right?” I complain to Kennedy as I turn my back on her and stare out over the dark lawn. If I’m not watc
hing it happen, I can just plead ignorance if we get caught.

  “I thought you were going to quit. Who cares if they fire you?” Paige whispers as she aims her flashlight at the door so Kennedy can see.

  “There’s a big difference between being fired and being disbarred, Paige. If we get caught, I could lose my license and never be able to practice law again.”

  I should really be more concerned about the ramifications of what we’re doing right now. I shouldn’t be standing here while my friend breaks into a crime scene. At least one problem would be solved—my parents would finally know what I’ve been doing when they have to bail me out of jail.

  “First rule of thumb if you’re going to make it in this business, Lorelei: always carry a paper clip and a torsion wrench in your back pocket and stop being such a candy ass,” Kennedy explains as she carefully sticks the tools into the lock with the precision of a surgeon performing open-heart surgery.

  “I thought the first rule of thumb was to stick it to the man?” Paige says with a laugh.

  “What the hell are we going to do if the alarm goes off?” I whisper, glancing behind us nervously.

  “The alarm isn’t going to go off because Ted told me they had it disabled for the next few days so detectives can come and go whenever they please,” Kennedy says, her eyes never leaving the door as she fiddles with the lock.

  A few seconds later, I hear a loud click.

  “Got it!” Kennedy cheers.

  She pulls another tool out of her back pocket, this time a Swiss Army knife, and slices through the police tape stretched across the door. She stands up, pushes open the door, and we follow her into the dark house.

  “I’ll replace that when we leave. Keep your flashlights low to the ground. We don’t want anyone driving by to see the light bouncing around through the windows,” Kennedy warns.

  We all turn on our flashlights and aim them at the ground.

  “You’re sure the guard at the front gate won’t tell anyone we were here?” I ask her nervously as we step into the foyer.

  “Positive. I went to high school with the guy and a few months ago his ex-wife had me confront him about wearing her underwear and heels. I told him I would send out a mass e-mail to everyone he knows,” Kennedy tells us.