Alice transferred the call, 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, 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 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 of 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, 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 t
rash 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.”
Nodding, Lauren tried a smile but failed. “It’s easing up,” she lied. “It felt like I got stuck with a huge pin or something only the prick never stopped hurting.”
Julie pulled back the silk of her shirt. “Dang Lauren, that burn is deep. I’m not sure it was a cigarette. Let’s grab a cab and go to the ER.”
“No,” Lauren said, knowing she couldn’t miss work before her trial. “I have some Advil in my purse, and I can get some ice at the restaurant. If it still hurts after that I’ll consider it. It’s feeling better already.”
Julie didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Only she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure at all.
***
Dirt Diver was already sitting at a corner table of Lauren’s favorite restaurant, out of her line of sight, when she and her friend walked in. Lauren was nothing, if not predictable.
He watched her slide into her booth, holding her arm where he’d taken his military issue mobile welder and scored her a new tattoo. Burned like hell, he bet. Well, that’s what the little bitch deserved. Tear her down, one piece at a time. That was Dirt Diver’s plan but it was proving so damn easy, even with her new boyfriend, that he was quickly becoming bored. He was going to fix that, though. He was going to give himself a challenge and prove to her just how vulnerable she was, how much it sucked to feel like a victim that couldn’t escape her torture. Because he was that good. He could let her nestle down in the Walker Brothers’ castle, let her pull down her guard, and feel safe, and still destroy her.
It was time to turn this into a full-fledged nightmare.
Chapter Twelve
Lauren sat in the corner booth of her favorite lunch spot, and instead of anticipating the first bite of the heavenly chocolate cake the place was famous for, she fantasized about the ice Julie was scavenging for her.
“Here you go,” Julie said, sliding into the seat across from Lauren. “Relief is here.”
Lauren held it to her arm. “Thank you.”
“No problem. And I ordered our usual. I wasn’t sure if you would be up to staying long, so I thought we should rush the food.”
Lauren felt the chill on her arm, a slow numbness easing the pain. “This helps.” Her attention locked on a familiar face. “Isn’t that David Sullivan?”
Julie turned in her seat. “Where?”
“Too late. You can’t see him anymore.” Lauren made a face. “Weird though. I know that was him. He looked right at me and pretended not to see me.”
Julie gave Lauren a hard stare. “Of course he did. You prosecuted the biggest case of his career, and he lost.”
“And so he avoids me?”
“He was passed over as partner after losing the case. I’m pretty sure he thinks you ruined his life.”
Lauren’s eyes went wide. “I did not ruin his life. That’s like blaming you for breaking up the marriages you legally dissolved.”
The waitress appeared and set their food down in front of them, forcing Julie to put her reply on hold. The minute the woman walked away, Julie leaned forward, her voice low. “Of course you didn’t ruin his life. But you know how people can be. They look for someone to blame and since I went out with one of his buddies a few years back, I happen to know he blames you. He’s a big blame thrower, that guy.” She stabbed a piece of chicken on top of her salad.
“Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew it would upset you, just like it clearly is now. I knew you’d tear yourself up over it.”
This day was not going well. Her world felt like it was imploding on her. Her idea of getting out of the office and not letting fear control her certainly had backfired.
She shoved her plate aside, knowing she should have listened to Royce. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.” She dropped the bag of ice on the table, and grabbed a napkin to soak up the water on her arm. “Get my salad to go, will you?”
Fortunately, the restroom was empty, and she had a few blessed moments alone. She dried her shirt the best she could, her mind a jumbled mess. It was hard enough to put someone on death row, regardless of their crime. She really didn’t need the added weight of other types of guilt. Like being told she’d ruined the life of her opposing counsel.
Several people funneled into the restroom, eyeing Lauren’s arm with interest. So much for her escape. She headed for the door, pushed it open, and ran straight into a hard wall of muscle, and when she might have flinched and pulled back, her nostrils flared with a familiar spicy scent of man.
“Royce,” she breathed out, relaxing into him. “Oh, thank God, it’s you.”
He guided her into a corner, hands settling on her waist. Reaching up he brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. “Julie said you were burned. Let me look at your arm.”
Lauren felt her lips quiver as she nodded. “You had me followed, didn’t you? That’s how you’re here?”
He glanced up at her. “Yes, and I’m pissed as hell that you left the building. However, I’ll save my lecturing – and there will be lecturing – for when we’re alone and you’re not in pain. But damn it, this isn’t a cigarette burn and this wasn’t an accident. What if he’d have used a knife under the cover of the crowd? You might not be here right now.”
He was right. She knew he was right. “I thought you were saving this until later?”
“I am. I’m not even close to saying everything I have to say.”
She let out a breath and let her lashes lower. “I dese
rve this. I was foolish.” She swallowed hard. “I didn’t want this to be real.” Her gaze lifted and then louder, “I didn’t want this to be real. I think… I was in denial.”
“You’re okay,” he said, his voice softening with understanding. “That’s all that matters. Right now, we need to get you to an ER.”
“No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not, and we both know it. You’re scared. You’re hurt. We’re going to the ER.”
“I’ll end up in the newspaper.”’
”Then we’ll find a private doctor, but you have to have this looked at.”
“I so don’t need this right before the trial, Royce. I’m behind. I’m not myself. I almost feel like I need to step aside, but it’s too late now, it would hurt the case.”
“Maybe that was the idea.”
***
Two hours later, Lauren and Royce were finally back at her apartment, and he was doing a walk through for safety. Lauren had called Julie and explained everything that was going on, and she had eagerly agreed to pick up Lauren’s work for her. She just hoped she arrived in time to get some work done. The day was all but lost and the pain meds were going to knock her out when she finally caved and took them. As it was, the antibiotics were making her nauseous, which was probably because she hadn’t eaten at all.
Royce appeared in the hallway, and she felt a surge of relief when he gave her the ‘thumbs up’ to enter. She rushed forward and straight to her bedroom so she could change. She wanted out of the burned shirt so she could separate herself from threats and fears to focus on work.
Royce followed her, leaning on the door frame as she dug in her drawer for her sweats. They’d had a fight when he’d driven her to the doctor’s office, rather than home. They’d barely spoken while they were there, but as her anger had faded, she felt him there, by her side, strong and comforting, and… it felt like a relationship. It felt… right.
She abandoned her drawer and sat down on the bed. “I’m sorry. I was such a witch earlier. I just… ”
“Don’t move, Lauren,” Royce ordered sharply. “Don’t even breath.” He reached for his gun.
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