by Erin Wade
Peyton popped the tops on two cans and handed Paula a paper towel and the cold drink. “I appreciate your willingness to talk to me.” Peyton took a long drink from her Dr. Pepper can. “I know it took a lot of nerve for you to come here today.”
She opened the file on her desk. “I know this isn’t easy for you, so I’m not going to ask you to relive the events leading up to you filing the charges against Athletic Director Bob Radford. I do want to ask you why you dropped the charges and have come forward now?”
Paula shifted in her chair and looked down momentarily. Then she raised her chin as if she were used to taking on the world.
“I dealt with Chief Sawyer during the investigation,” Paula said, staring past Peyton. “She convinced me it would be better to drop the charges and get on with my life. She shared scenarios of what it would be like on the witness stand. How the defense attorney would make me look like a whore and a party girl who was asking for what I got.
“She said that even though Radford raped me, I would be the one on trial. My mother was in ill health, and I didn’t want to drag her through that. My father died when I was four, so it’s always been Mother and me.
“Chief Sawyer said I had taken a shower and had washed away valuable DNA evidence that would be needed to convict Radford, so there was no reason to waste the money or hospital time on a rape kit. She said I’d end up looking like a slut, and Radford would walk away without even a slap on the wrist. My reputation would be ruined, and he wouldn’t even lose a night’s sleep over the entire incident.”
“Why now? Why four years later?” Peyton frowned. “The evidence is even less now. Somewhere along the way, Sawyer allowed it to disappear.
“This file is the only thing I found in the evidence box. There’s Radford’s statement that he didn’t even know your name and had certainly never been intimate with you. There are photos of you with bruises on your wrists and face, indicating someone held you down and hit you. Apparently, there was a dress with Radford’s DNA on it, but it’s gone. I have nothing that would prove Radford raped you.”
Paula closed her eyes for several seconds. She pressed her hands together and leaned her forehead against her fingers as if praying. Peyton gave her time to compose herself.
“My mother passed away last year.” Her hazel eyes watered, and she blinked repeatedly to clear them. “I’ll graduate from law school this year and take the bar in July. It took longer than it should have, but I had responsibilities. I received a payout from Mother’s life insurance, and I earn income clerking for Judge Crawford. Before I join a law firm, I want to get this settled.”
Paula’s eyes darted around the room as if looking for some way to escape what she knew she must do. “Radford didn’t just rape me. He left me with his child to raise. Irrefutable proof of his DNA.”
Peyton’s mouth dropped open as she stared at the stunning blonde. “You have his child?”
Paula nodded. “A son. It’s been hard.”
“Why didn’t you have an abortion?” Peyton asked.
“I’m Catholic. I don’t believe in abortion. All the time I was carrying Trent, I hated him. He wasn’t even in the world yet, and I despised all he stood for. I couldn’t sleep. I had nightmares about what Radford did to me. But when they placed that baby boy in my arms, he stole my heart. I couldn’t possibly love him more. He is my life.”
“You know that if you testify against Radford, all of this will be dragged through the news media. You and Trent will be ridiculed, and he’ll eventually become aware that he is the result of you being raped by Radford.”
“Believe me, Agent King, I’ve agonized over it, but this is the right thing to do. I can’t remain silent and let men like Radford continue ruining the lives of innocent coeds. We come to college so full of hope and ambition, and the Radfords of this world steal our souls.”
“I could put you into witness protection,” Peyton thought out loud. “You have no ties here. I could give you a new name and have all your identifying paperwork reissued. You and Trent could start a new life.”
Before Paula could respond, Joey burst into Peyton’s office. “Agent King . . . oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were interviewing someone. I’ll come back.”
“No, it’s fine, Joey,” Peyton said. “I’d like you to meet Paula Lambert. She’s working with us on the sex scandal the athletic department has laid at our feet. Paula, Joey Sloan, our star quarterback.”
Joey blushed and dipped his head. Peyton waited for the “Aww shucks” to come, but it didn’t.
“I’m meeting Brandy and Professor Shaw for lunch,” Joey said, grinning. “Why don’t the two of you join us?”
“Oh, I’d better not,” Paula said as she got to her feet.
“Please?” Joey flashed his little-boy smile that made women want to cuddle him. “It isn’t often I get to lunch with four beautiful women.”
Paula nodded. “I’d like that.”
“I would too.” Peyton pulled out her keys. “Let’s lock up this place and join the others.”
Chapter 23
“Thanks to you, Professor Arturo let me make up my Spanish test,” Brandy said as they commandeered a table in the SUB. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her that you had been in bed all week with a high fever.” Regan wrinkled her nose. “It wasn’t a complete lie.”
“Um, you do give me fever,” Brandy whispered in her ear.
“Miss Brandywine, kindly keep your distance in public,” Regan teased. “You know the effect you have on me.”
“The feeling is mutual, I’m sure.” Brandy intentionally brushed Regan’s breasts as she reached across her for a napkin.
“You are evil, Grace Brandywine. Pure evil.”
Suddenly, Joey’s voice rang out across the room. “There they are! I told you they’d get us a table.” He pulled up an extra chair for Paula as Peyton made the introductions.
“How’s your investigation?” Regan asked.
“I’m beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel,” Peyton said. “I hate cases where so many innocent people are hurt, and it’s only going to get worse.”
“Do you like Reuben sandwiches?” Joey asked Paula. “They make the very best Reuben in the world.”
“I do.” Paula laughed at his enthusiasm. “With fries?”
“Of course.” Joey beamed.
They placed their orders and launched into a discussion of the upcoming Thanksgiving break.
“What are your plans?” Peyton asked Regan.
“I’ll be in town. This is my home, remember? What about you, Agent King? What do you have planned?”
“My parents and younger sister are visiting me for the weekend. I’m looking forward to that. My mom is a great cook.”
“You aren’t cooking for them? What kind of hostess are you?” Brandy chided.
“The worst kind, I’m afraid,” Peyton said.
“How about you, Paula?” Joey asked.
“We lost my mom last year, so it will just be my son and me,” Paula said. “He loves drumsticks.”
“Why don’t we all get together for Thanksgiving at my home?” Regan suggested. “It would be fun to have a group of good friends around for the holiday.”
“Sonidos mucho bueno, senorita,” Brandy said, showing off her Spanish. Everyone laughed.
Regan couldn’t hide the sparkle in her eyes. She had the sudden need to take Brandy home with her.
“I’ll cook the turkey and cornbread dressing,” Regan said. “I have my grandmother’s recipe, and it’s to die for.”
“I’ll bring dessert,” Paula chimed in.
By the time lunch was finished, the five had put together a menu fit for a king.
Peyton laughed. “My parents will be so impressed. I’ve never introduced them to friends before.”
“You’re hanging out with a better class of people now,” Brandy teased. “An award-winning author, a star football player, two attorneys, and . . . well,
I’ll be an attorney someday.”
“It’s settled then. Thanksgiving at my house,” Regan declared.
“Uh, Professor Shaw, you do know Thanksgiving Day is also a big football day,” Joey pointed out. “We need to arrive at your home around eleven and stay until around nine.”
“Perfect,” Regan said. “We’ll plan dinner for around one and then eat leftovers and watch football the rest of the day.”
Joey grinned. “Sounds like my idea of heaven.”
“Will anyone be bringing a plus-one?” Regan asked as she made a list of people to cook for.
“I might bring one extra,” Peyton said. “For sure my parents and sister, but I may invite a friend.”
“Ooh, Agent King, do you have a significant other hidden in the wings?” Brandy wiggled her eyebrows.
“Hardly,” Peyton huffed. “Just someone who is very lonely. I may invite her to join us.”
“Alright”—Joey clapped his hands—“then we’ll reconvene at Professor Shaw’s home at eleven o’clock Thanksgiving Day.”
Chapter 24
Joey followed Paula from the SUB. “May I walk you to your car? We’ve had some unpleasant incidents on campus lately.”
“I . . . um, don’t have a car,” Paula stammered. “I came on the bus.”
“Please let me drive you home.”
A look akin to fear flashed across Paula’s beautiful face.
“I promise, I’m harmless,” Joey said. “I’m just concerned for your safety.”
Paula could see the sincerity in Joey’s eyes, and he did have the cutest dimples she had ever seen. For some reason, she trusted the blond Adonis. She hadn’t trusted anyone in so long. It was like a breath of fresh air.
“I’m really one of the good guys,” Joey said, his grin deepening his dimples.
“I’d appreciate that,” Paula said. “I don’t live on campus.”
“All the more reason I should drive you home.”
##
“Just speak your address into my navigator,” Joey instructed as he fastened his seat belt. “It’ll tell me where to go, and we can talk without fear of missing a turn.” He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road before he spoke again.
“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed a woman as pretty as you on campus.”
“I’m no longer on this campus,” Paula said, cringing slightly. “I transferred to SMU four years ago to finish my law degree.”
“Our loss and their gain,” Joey bantered. “What kind of law?”
“Family law,” Paula replied. “In addition to practicing law, I want to do pro bono work to help women who find themselves in bad domestic situations.”
“Ahh . . . a champion.”
“What’s your major?” Paula asked.
“Engineering. Electrical engineering, to be exact. I have a mission too,” Joey said. “The American power grid is just one terrorist away from plunging the US into total darkness. I’ve already been hired to work with the men and women who are working around the clock to put a backup grid in place. It’s a mess.”
“That’s fascinating,” Paula said. “Tell me—”
“You have arrived at your destination,” the auto navigation system announced.
Paula laughed. “Oh, I had no idea the trip was so short.”
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Joey said, repeating the age-old axiom as he jumped from the car and hurried to open Paula’s door.
As Paula stepped out, a towheaded tot ran toward her with his arms outstretched. “Mommy!” he hollered.
Paula scooped him up as he squealed and wrapped his arms around her neck. He shyly looked at Joey. A fifty-something woman joined them.
“Joey, this is Wanda Riley and my son, Trent. Trent, this is Joey, my new friend.”
“You Joey Sloan,” Trent said, pointing a stubby finger at Joey. “Me and Mama see you on TV.”
“Wow!” Joey’s eyes opened wide. “I’m surprised you know me.”
“Football.” Trent wrinkled his nose as if Joey should already have the information.
“Do you like to play football?” Joey asked.
Trent wiggled from his mother’s arms and ran around the corner of the house, returning with a football. “We play.”
“Not now, little man.” Paula laughed. “Joey has places to be, and I need to fix your dinner.”
“You and your mom are going to have Thanksgiving dinner with me and some friends,” Joey told the boy. “Bring your football and we’ll play then.”
“Can I, Mommy? Can I?”
“Of course.” Paula mouthed a thank you to Joey.
“Great! I’ll pick you up at ten fifteen Thursday morning.” Joey stepped back from the boy. “For right now, you could give me one good throw.”
Trent held the ball over his head with both hands and threw it as hard as he could. Joey’s height and long arms allowed him to easily catch the wobbly, wildly thrown ball. “Hey, big guy, you’re pretty good,” he said, laughing as the little boy grinned at him.
Chapter 25
Brandy rolled over and reached for Regan, but the other side of the bed was cold and empty. She rolled onto her back and listened. She could hear the object of her affections humming happily in the kitchen. She sniffed the air and picked up the aromas of spices and apples mingled with all the smells of a Thanksgiving dinner.
This is what I want my life to be, she thought as she marveled over the past two weeks she had spent with Regan. Professor Regan Shaw was everything a woman should be and more. She was smart, entertaining, exciting, interesting, and beyond gorgeous. She had lived a charmed life and was one of the top contemporary authors of the twenty-first century. Brandy knew that Regan was at a crossroads in her life. Her five-year relationship with Leslie Winters was over, and her agent and publisher had rejected her latest book because the main characters were lesbians.
Brandy hoped she wasn’t getting Regan on the rebound and was just a pleasant distraction. She knew Regan had accepted the guest professor position at the university to reconnect with reality. She desperately hoped that when things settled in Regan’s life, she would still be a part of it.
Brandy showered and dressed and joined Regan in the kitchen. She leaned against the doorjamb and watched the brunette as she loaded the dishwasher. As Regan closed the dishwasher door, Brandy slipped her arms around her waist and placed soft kisses on the back of her neck.
“I wondered when you would join me.” Regan leaned back against her lover.
“I was disappointed to wake in an empty bed,” Brandy murmured against her ear.
“I’m just getting a jump on tomorrow.” Regan moaned as Brandy’s arms tightened around her. “I knew I’d better get up before you tempted me to stay in bed with you all day.”
“Oh, so now I’m a temptation.” Brandy chuckled. “That’s good to know.”
Regan turned in her arms and tilted her head back for a kiss. “You know I have a weakness for you,” she whispered.
Brandy was the first to pull away. “What can I do to help get ready for tomorrow?”
“I’ve made the cornbread dressing, so all we have to do tomorrow is put it in the oven. Can you make deviled eggs?”
“I’m sure I can, with a little bit of instruction from you.”
Working together, they soon completed the task of getting their Thanksgiving offerings ready to go into the oven the next day.
“Our work here is done,” Regan said, leaning her shoulder against Brandy’s. “Would you like breakfast? I’ve already had toast and coffee, but I’d be happy to fix whatever you’d like.”
“Um, I may have devoured three boiled eggs while you weren’t looking.” An impish grin deepened Brandy’s dimples. “There is something I’d like you to do for me.”
“Anything.” Regan tiptoed to steal a kiss.
“Anything?” Brandy wiggled her eyebrows ominously and pulled Regan into her arms. “Promise?”
“Anything,” Regan r
epeated in her sexiest voice. “I promise.”
“Good.” Brandy beamed. “I want you to read to me. I want you to read your latest—but unpublished—book to me.”
“I . . . I didn’t—”
“You said anything,” Brandy insisted.
“Very well. Let me download it to my iPad. It will be easier to read from than my laptop.”
“You download and I’ll make fresh coffee.” Brandy stole a kiss, gleeful that she had won the debate.
##
Regan moved her manuscript to her iPad as Brandy stretched out on the sofa and motioned for Regan to join her. “Sit here between my legs so you can lean back against me and not strain your voice. We can take turns reading.”
Regan briefly wondered why Leslie had never been as thoughtful as Brandy. She settled between Brandy’s legs and leaned back against the softness of the woman who was stealing her heart.
The more Regan read, the deeper Brandy fell in love with her. “You’re an amazing writer,” she whispered into the brunette’s ear. “I can’t believe anyone in their right mind would turn down this story. It’s incredible. Did they even read it?”
“As I said, they rejected it because my two main characters are lesbians.” Regan shrugged. “They thought it would tarnish my image if a spotlight was trained on my private life.”
“You really did keep you and Leslie Winters a secret,” Brandy noted. “When I read your first novel, I started digging to find out all I could about you.”
“Why?” Regan asked.
“I thought you were beautiful. I saw you on talk shows promoting your books. You were so poised and laughed so easily. I loved your sultry, rich voice. It made shivers run down my spine. I think I fell in love with you then. I devoured your books, and when I heard you were going to be a guest professor at the university, I immediately signed up for your course. You could have taught mud wrestling, and I’d have signed up.”
Regan laughed out loud. “You are good for my ego, Miss Brandywine. I hope I can live up to your image of me.”
“Oh, Regan. Don’t you know you have surpassed my schoolgirl fantasies about you and turned my world upside down? I love you more every day.
