Evidence of Desire

by Lexi Blake

  Henry winced. “Let’s look into getting her an attorney just in case.”

  His stomach knotted at the thought of someone coming to arrest her. He had to make Henry understand. “I’m telling you that she didn’t do anything.”

  “For twenty whole minutes,” Henry said gravely. “That’s a long time to not do something.”

  “She panicked.” Noah shook his head. “I would have panicked, too. That kind of loss of time is normal for people in a state of shock. I can get twelve forensic psychologists to testify to that fact.”

  “And Royce Asshole will get the same amount to tell a jury something different,” Henry replied. “You know how these things go. A case like that all depends on a sympathetic jury, and juries don’t tend to be sympathetic to wealthy attorneys. I’ll have Margarita start to ask around to see who’s available.”

  “And I’ll keep Isla close. I don’t want to worry her, but I also don’t want her caught off guard. Something about the way the ADA hauled her in yesterday made me think this is personal. Usually there’s some professional courtesy between lawyers. He had none for her. He paraded her in front of the press like he was asking them to charge her in the court of public opinion.”

  Noah frowned. “I think I know why he’s behaving like an asshole. Isla dated him very briefly. It didn’t go well and she was the one to break it off. I’m not terribly surprised he’s being a jerk.”

  She’d dated Royce? Was that the kind of man she was attracted to? Then she was going to make it easy on him because he couldn’t be further from the kind of self-obsessed dick Royce Osborne was. Sure he wore designer suits, but only because he had a guy at Bergdorf Goodman who picked them out for him. When he wasn’t at work, he was a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy. “Can we get him recused?”

  Henry shrugged. “We can’t even try until he’s done something.”

  “Well, as to the court of public opinion, his tactics are working,” Noah said with a shake of his head. “There were all kinds of questions on the morning talk shows. It ran the gamut from the reporters accusing Isla of trying to clean up after her client to the more salacious stories.”

  He should have known they would go there. “So there’s a rumor Isla was sleeping with Trey?”

  “Of course there is,” Henry shot back. “She’s a young, beautiful woman. He’s an aging jock. I could have told you it wouldn’t take any time at all for that malicious bit of gossip to surface. You and Isla should go out to the Hamptons and see if you can get the kids to do a couple of photographs with her. You know, the three of them walking into the hospital together. A show of family unity.”

  He wasn’t sure how well that suggestion would go over. It might be better to simply arrange for it to happen. “I certainly think we should go and talk to the kids.”

  “Good.” Henry’s lips curled up in a faint smile, and he glanced toward the kitchen. “Seriously? I thought you had a thing for redheads.”

  God, he wished they hadn’t shown up. “I told you, I’m not going to act on it.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “I’ll get it.” Noah bounced up. “It’s probably Margarita. I texted her where we were. She’s bringing cinnamon rolls.”

  He practically ran to the door.

  David nodded their way. “You want to worry about a problem? Worry about that.”

  Henry waved it off. “Nah, Margarita’s too smart to fall for his puppy eyes routine.”

  But David wasn’t so sure.

  “I brought cinnamon rolls.” Margarita walked in looking perfectly ready for anything. She was superstylish in jeans, over-the-knee boots, and a chic sweater that complemented her skin tone. David was fairly certain if he went to Margarita’s place at three in the morning, she would find a way to be fully made up without a hair out of place. “I also brought butternut squash soup and the makings for tacos. I’m sorry. I’m Mexican. Food is how we deal with grief.”

  “I thought food was how you dealt with stress,” Henry pointed out. She’d said that on many occasions.

  “It’s how we deal with everything,” she replied with a smile. “I also have the McKay-Taggart report from their profiler. The new hot one. Not that Eve isn’t hot, but the new guy is superhot.”

  “I didn’t think he was hot.” Noah followed her into the kitchen. “He looked kind of like a nerd to me. You really thought he was hot? I was pretty sure he was gay. I mean, I know when a guy’s hitting on me.”

  “He was totally hitting on me, you infant,” Margarita replied.

  “See, nothing to worry about. She’ll hook up with some testosteroned-out McKay-Taggart operative who’ll beat Noah to death if he even looks her way,” Henry said. “Problem solved.”

  Win bounced in, a huge smile on her face. She sat down next to Henry, resting her head on his shoulder.

  Suddenly the Monster of Manhattan was wearing a soft expression on his face. “Did you have a nice talk, sweetheart?”

  She nodded up at him. “I did. I feel better knowing we’re going to take care of this. I would hate for her to get dragged into this mess more than she already is.” She turned to David. “I like her. I think you should call dibs or Noah might.”

  He sighed. Yep. His problems were just beginning.

  FIVE

  Isla handed over the last plate. She’d been surprised when David insisted on cleaning up. He’d explained that he’d been taught to honor the person feeding him by doing the dishes.

  He’d done them last night, too. There was something about a man who didn’t mind a little housework that did it for her. She kind of wondered what he’d look like sorting laundry. He could even take his shirt off because, hey, it needed to be clean, too. Then she would know exactly how cut he was. Yep, him doing the wash could be pretty hot.

  What was wrong with her? She was sexually objectifying her lawyer? Not hers. Trey’s. When she thought about it, they were really more like teammates. And everyone knew getting emotionally involved with a teammate was also a bad idea.

  “Did Henry get everything he asked for?” She stepped back and poured herself one more cup of coffee. Not that she needed it. She’d actually gotten good sleep the night before. Every time her unconscious brain had gone to a bad place, she would wake briefly and realize he was there.

  She would miss him tonight.

  “I think so. It’s good that you kept all the records here. Too many times we have to wait until we can get the base information from the police reports or other family members. It was nice to have it all in one place.” He worked diligently cleaning each plate and putting it into the dishwasher to sanitize. “And it’s good that you have power of attorney because with him in the situation he’s in, it could have required a bunch of court appearances and still left Trey’s fate in the hands of a judge.”

  “When we realized Trey’s mind was starting to deteriorate, Portia and I decided to try to cover all the bases we could,” she explained. “I know he’s in his late forties and that’s not really the time when people think about powers of attorney or living wills, but we’ve had to consider it all.”

  “Did you write his will?” David asked, wiping down the countertop.

  “Not myself. I found an attorney who specializes in them.” It wasn’t much of a leap to know what he would ask next. “Obviously if he went first, everything went to Portia.”

  “And if she went first?”

  Then it got a bit trickier, but Portia had been insistent. “All of the money and the businesses go into a trust administered by an executor until Trey dies, and then everything is split between Miranda and Oscar.”

  “And who’s the executor?” He asked the question like he already knew the answer.

  “That would be me. And before you go into it, yes, I now have full control of the money. All financial decisions are made by me. I have the option, if I feel they’re ready
, to place ten million in a trust for each child, but honestly, they would both spend their way through it at this point. I also have to ensure Trey gets everything he needs.” She studied David carefully. “I’ll get you a copy of the will.”

  “Thank you.” He folded the towel. “And I’ll share what I can with you, too. Henry left a bunch of reports. Mostly background information, but if you could look through it and tell us if it lines up with what you know, that would be very helpful. Our investigators are already on their way. Noah is going to pick them up from the airport.”

  “Shouldn’t we use NYC-based investigators?”

  “We have one on staff and he’s working, too, but these guys are the best. By ‘guys’ I mean a woman and an Irish dude. They’re puzzle solvers, and they can also kick some serious ass if we need them to,” David replied. “I’m going to meet with them this evening.”

  “I’d like to be there if that’s possible.”

  “Of course.” He smiled her way, and she couldn’t help but think about how sexy he was when he smiled.

  “I like your friends.” She had to stop thinking about him that way or she might make a complete fool of herself.

  “I’m glad you do because I’m giving them all another look,” he said. “Turns out they’re all nosy busybodies. I can’t imagine what you thought when you opened that door the first time.”

  She shook her head. “It was nice to have people over. I’m afraid I’ve become a hermit in my old age. I’d forgotten how fun it is to sit and have a meal with new people. Although if I’d known there was going to be company, I might have put on more professional attire.”

  She’d entertained the Monster of Manhattan while wearing pajama bottoms with tiny champagne bottles all over them and a tank top that said Cheers to Sleep. She was putting out some seriously sexy vibes with that ensemble.

  “Well, we get involved in our work. We usually end up eating together and fighting over some small point of law or how to handle a case. It’s normal for our firm. I don’t spend nearly enough time with my parents. They live out on Long Island. I only get out there once a week.”

  He saw his parents every week. That was another point in his favor. “I miss my parents. They died in a car accident when I was in high school.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Any siblings?”

  “Nope. Just me. You an only, too?” Only. There was a reason it rhymed with lonely that went beyond how the two words were spelled.

  “Yes, I’m afraid my brothers are all of the non-blood type.”

  “Those can be pretty awesome, too.” She felt like she should say something, talk about the elephant in the room. Ever since the others had taken off, they’d been tiptoeing around the subject. “About last—”

  Her words were cut off by the sound of her doorbell ringing. Her eyes locked with his before he glanced toward the door.

  “Shouldn’t you have gotten a call that someone was here to see you?” David asked, drying off his hands. He started for the door.

  “They only lock down the building at night. We’re open from seven A.M. to ten P.M.” She followed him, anxiety starting to bubble inside her. She’d never had to worry about security before. The building had always seemed perfectly safe. Now she had way more than mere crime to consider. Privacy had become incredibly important to her overnight. “You think it’s the press?”

  “I think I would rather you had better security,” he replied as he looked through the peephole. His shoulders came down from around his ears. “It’s okay. You’ll want to talk to this one.”

  He unlocked her dead bolt and she smiled. This was one visitor she should have expected.

  Carey Kendrick was larger than life, and turning seventy hadn’t slowed him down one bit. He stood in her hallway wearing his typical designer suit that he paired with a wide-brimmed Stetson and cowboy boots. He’d lived in New York for years, but the Oklahoma oilman was still there in every move he made. He’d never lost his accent and refused to fit into Manhattan’s high society. He always told her that if money couldn’t get him into a place, he didn’t want to go there. He held his arms wide. “Come here, darlin’. I’m sorry for what you had to go through.”

  She noticed Amber standing beside him, looking glamorous. She was a trophy wife and always made sure she was polished to a shine.

  Isla found herself enveloped in a bear hug. She had to take a deep breath or she would start crying again. God, she’d thought she’d cried so much the night before that she wouldn’t be able to today, but there she was, right on the cusp. “Hello, Carey.”

  He’d almost been her father-in-law. He was the one to take care of her after Austin died. He had a terrible reputation. The press hated him, and she could admit one of the reasons she’d left the Guardians’ front office was that she preferred not working with the man. He could be an overbearing boss, but she would never be able to forget how he’d cared for her even through his own grief. When he wasn’t working, he was a jewel of a man.

  “I’m sorry about Portia,” he murmured. “I couldn’t believe the news when we heard it. Shook me to the core. You know we all loved that woman.”

  “Oh, that woman was a saint,” Amber said with a shake of her head and a sad sigh. She looked sleek and beautiful, but then that was rather her job as a trophy wife and she was good at it. She was placed on the pageant circuit as a toddler, and sometimes Isla thought she’d never truly gotten off it. Amber had gotten as far as Miss Tennessee, but she still waved like a beauty queen.

  “I wouldn’t say a saint, but she was definitely a kind and lovely woman.” A woman who would scold her for thinking unkindly of Amber. Portia had been the one to talk Isla into accepting the second wife. She’d pointed out that Carey had started smiling again after Amber came into his life. The problem was Isla remembered the first Mrs. Kendrick. Austin’s mom. God, Austin would laugh his ass off at the idea of his dad married to someone who would barely be older than him had he lived.

  Funny how thinking of him lately brought her pleasure and not pain. Like a fond memory rather than the loss of her life.

  Carey released her and she stepped back to let him in the apartment. He seemed to realize she wasn’t alone. His gaze found David and he held out a hand. “Cormack, good to see you’re here, and on a Sunday. I like a man who takes his job seriously.”

  David shook his hand. “And I thank you for the recommendation. I assure you my firm is ready to take this case on.”

  Carey chuckled as they shook hands. “Well, I’d rather have someone who understands both sides of this field, if you know what I mean. Besides, your partner kind of scares me and I’m not easily intimidated. And your other partner is a puppy dog whose balls haven’t dropped yet.”

  She gasped, a sound that was echoed by Amber.

  David simply laughed. “Oh, I assure you his balls are fully matured. His brain when it comes to anything but work? Not so much. Noah uses his equipment on anything that will let him. I expect he would hump the fire hydrants if he got hard up. But he’s smarter than he seems. He’s going to be second on this. I think you’ll find he’s an excellent lawyer.”

  Carey nodded. “As long as you’re on top of things. No way the Trey Adams I know would hurt any woman, much less his own wife.”

  Amber shook her head. Somehow her hair managed to not move at all. “Never. They were in love. They stood by each other. Portia taught me a lot about what it means to be a wife and the female head of the family.”

  “Matriarch,” Isla prompted and then winced. She shouldn’t correct the other woman. Not when it didn’t matter.

  Amber shuddered delicately. “No. That’s an old word and I’m obviously a young woman. I like to think of myself as a domestic CEO. Though I am very maternal. I’ve taken those cheerleaders under my wing. Poor little birds. Most of them don’t have time for a man.”

  As if that was the
worst thing that could happen to a woman.

  “You knew Portia well?” David asked, looking at Amber.

  “She was the best of the best,” Amber said. “Such an amazing woman. We were working on several important projects together. Portia was one of the only women in the city who wasn’t horribly mean to me. I suspect it’s because she was a model at one time, so she wasn’t intimidated by me.” She glanced over at Carey as her cell buzzed. “Baby, you need to take your meds. It’s time.”

  She reached into her massive designer bag and pulled out a monstrosity of a pill dispenser. She carefully opened Sunday and pulled out two small white pills and then dove back for a bottle of water.

  Carey grumbled slightly but took his medication. “Sorry about this. She listens to doctors too much.”

  “It is my mission in life to have as much time with you as I possibly can,” she said with a shake of her head that told Isla they’d been over this all before.

  And that was why she put up with Amber. She might be an airhead former beauty queen who had no place marrying a man thrice her age, but she tried. She took good care of Carey, and she’d made a career in the last few years out of protecting the family business and name.

  “So many pills,” Carey said with a shake of his head. “Don’t get old, you two. And, David, if you’re asking if Amber knows anything, I assure you she doesn’t. She would have told me if Trey and Portia were in trouble.”

  Amber nodded. “I would have. I know how important they are to my husband. Carey watches out for his players long after they’ve stopped playing. They’re our family and we love them. I was working on several projects with Portia. We were on a couple of charity boards together.” Tears sheened Amber’s green eyes. “I saw her last week. I had lunch at the penthouse. She was mentoring me.”

  Carey put a hand on his wife’s shoulder, patting her gently. “She’s still in shock.”