Evidence of Desire

by Lexi Blake

  She liked that he was using those particular words. “He’s a sweetheart. You’ll come to love him.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said. “So we have her journals and day planners. They had to be sure they’re going after Oscar if they sent those back.”

  Erin slid off her barstool. “I’m fairly certain they have no plans on looking for another suspect. That’s good for Trey, but bad for Oscar. I’m heading to bed. We have a super-early flight so I’m going to say goodbye. Call us if you need anything. You’re sure you don’t want a bodyguard? Paloma is still out there.”

  The last thing she wanted was someone on her 24-7. Well, except for David, but that was different.

  “It’s not a bad idea,” David mused.

  “I’m good,” she said quickly. “Paloma didn’t even try to kill me. As long as I stay out of his way, I think he’ll leave me alone. And if I go out, I’ll be careful.”

  David stared at her.

  “I don’t want a bodyguard,” she said with a frown. “Besides, I’ll spend the weekend going through these journals. I need to go out to the Guardians’ offices tomorrow and talk to Amber, but other than that, I’ll be a very good girl and stay in the gorgeous penthouse I will never be able to afford.”

  “All right, but I’m going with you to the stadium,” he said. “And if you have to go somewhere, I expect you to take Noah or Margarita with you. She’s surprisingly good at self-defense and Noah can scream louder than any teenage girl at a boy band concert, so they’ll keep you safe.”

  “Agreed.”

  Erin gave her a thumbs-up.

  “Good. Now that we’re done with that.” David finished the last of his sandwich. He leaned over and hauled her up against his chest.

  “Hey,” she protested. “I didn’t eat.”

  “Nope, you spent your eating time talking,” he said, but he let her grab her plate and the waters. “It’s my time again. You’ll have to be fast.”

  She smiled as he strode back to the bedroom. It looked like his time was going to last a long while and she was fine with that.

  THIRTEEN

  David stood outside the prison. Rikers Island was a pit, but then it was basically one big prison in between the Bronx and Queens. They’d driven in through the private bridge from Queens, and every time he made the trip he felt the world go a bit darker the closer that he got.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? I could handle them both and you can get back to Isla. She’s going to the stadium, right?” Henry had left his coat behind. It was best to leave anything a person didn’t absolutely need to function when entering a maximum-security prison.

  “He asked specifically for me.” He pulled at his tie. Isla had made sure it was perfect before he left, but he couldn’t quite breathe in the damn thing now. Ever since he got word that Trey Adams wanted to see him he’d been antsy, anxious in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. He had the feeling that Trey would ask him to do something he couldn’t do. He was getting in deep with this family and it worried him.

  Or maybe it was because the night before weighed on him. It felt as though he and Isla had settled something between them the night before. He knew damn straight things were settled in Isla’s mind, but he hadn’t told her the truth about himself. She should know, but she didn’t know the extent of the risks she was taking.

  Could he keep her in the dark like that? Was it fair to her?

  He’d forgotten to memorize his words this morning.

  “Yeah, I know, but you’re on edge,” Henry pointed out. “I’m worried about you. I don’t see you like this often. I think the last time I saw that look on your face, you were telling me about the separation. If you need to spend some time with Isla, I get it.”

  David frowned his way. Henry had been a lot easier to deal with when he simply yelled at everyone and didn’t expect him to discuss his feelings. Win had turned him into a touchy-feely guy. “What happened to the Monster of Manhattan?”

  Henry smiled in a way that David had never seen him smile before he’d met Win. Henry slapped him jovially on the shoulder. “I’m still here, but I only let the monster out when the case requires it. Otherwise, I’m more than happy being Win’s husband and potential baby daddy.”

  David felt his jaw drop. “What?”

  Henry smiled like a man who couldn’t be happier with his life. “We’re trying.”

  Henry Garrison with babies. It was hard to imagine it. “I did not expect that.”

  “Why not?” Henry asked softly. “You know it’s because of you.”

  “I didn’t introduce you to Win. You found her all on your own.”

  “Her clumsiness was my salvation,” Henry agreed. “But I wouldn’t have met her if you hadn’t answered my call. If you hadn’t flown out to L.A. to pick up an old friend who you hadn’t even talked to in a year, who kind of treated you like shit.”

  “You were going through a bad time. I knew that.” Henry had married an actress and got caught up in the Hollywood scene. Unfortunately the marriage had quickly fallen apart and Henry found the bottom of every bottle he could.

  He’d called one night and asked David to come get him. He was drunk and probably didn’t really know what he was doing. But when he’d been at his lowest, he reached out for David and there was no way David would blow him off. He’d gone straight to the airport, found the next flight out to L.A., and was at Henry’s side the next day.

  The day after, he’d dropped his best friend off at rehab and started Henry’s divorce proceedings. Three weeks later, they’d headed back to New York and started their lives over again.

  “I’m just saying that anything you need to make things work with this woman, I’ll do it,” Henry said. “You need time, take it. You need a reference, I’ll write one up. She’s not cooperating, I’ll hire some kidnappers and get you alone time with her.”

  He laughed because Henry might do it. “I don’t need to kidnap Isla. She’s happy where she is.”

  “Then it’s you.”

  Yes, it was him. “It’s early. I care deeply about her, more than I should at this point.”

  “Stop overthinking it. Trust yourself. I like her a lot. Win adores her. You deserve some happiness.”

  He forced himself to continue. “And if my mind starts going?”

  “Then I’ll do my duty, shoot you and put you out of your misery,” Henry said with a pat on the back. “See? Problem solved. You don’t have anything to worry about. Besides, once your mind goes, you won’t even know it. I don’t get why you’re worried about this. If you think about it, it’s not your problem. It’s kind of ours.”

  “That doesn’t help.” He turned to walk up the path to the prison doors.

  Henry followed hard behind him. “Come on. I’m joking, man. You have to keep a sense of humor about these things. I have a ton of cancer in my family line. I’m not going to spend my life worrying about it. Hell, I’m not even going to change my bacon intake, and that is precisely why I don’t tell Win about it. She would flip out and I would find myself eating kale, and then I would be the Monster of Manhattan.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “It’s exactly the same,” Henry insisted. “If Isla told you she’s got a fifty-fifty chance of dying of breast cancer, would you dump her?”

  “Of course I wouldn’t. But again, it’s not the same. Cancer is horrible, but at least you get to still be yourself. It doesn’t rob you of your memory and personality and control.”

  “Oh, I think a lot of cancer patients would completely argue with you about at least two of those. Pain can rob you of a lot,” Henry pointed out. “Talk to her about it.”

  The doors opened and he was assaulted by the blandness of the space. It was all concrete and bars, fluorescent lights and industrial smells. “I’ll think on it. Can we work now? I have to inform a man who
didn’t kill his wife that he’s going to stay in prison for a while for a crime that would never have been committed if the police hadn’t thought he killed his wife. Which he didn’t do.”

  No matter the circumstances, the reckless endangerment and weapons charges weren’t going to go away. And no bail would be heard until the psychiatrist was happy with Trey’s mental state. David had been told Trey was stable today and the meds seemed to be doing their job. It was a good time to talk to him. He’d asked if Trey wanted to see Isla, but he’d turned down speaking to anyone but his lawyer. He’d turned his own daughter away.

  Not that David would want to bring Isla out here. It had been a relief that he didn’t have to try to talk her out of coming with him. This was privilege. She might have power of attorney, but if his client wanted to see him privately, she had to respect the choice.

  “I’m working on getting him moved to a private facility,” Henry explained. “I’ll get Oscar ready for his bail hearing. Let’s take this one step at a time. We get Oscar out on bail. We get Trey moved to a private facility, and then we figure out our next move. I hear the ADA is giving a press conference this afternoon.”

  “He’s interested in getting on camera as much as possible.” He hated Royce Osborne, but at least he thought the ADA was no longer looking to make Isla some sort of accomplice. He would stand in front of the reporters, explain that he was the smartest man in the world and that New York City was once again safe because of his investigative techniques and say, hey, vote for me when I run for DA next year.

  Henry approached the first of many barriers, pulling out his wallet to show his ID. “Maybe we should hold our own. I’m going to think about it. I would like to get Kristoff Paloma’s face out there. Shake the tree and see what falls out.”

  “Do it but wait until Monday. If we can have Oscar standing next to us, I’d like that,” he replied. “I think he’ll look far less arrogant after he comes out of here. We need to show how young he is, how vulnerable he is, try to get some public sympathy going. We’ll get him nice, normal clothes and make him look like every troubled kid you know.”

  Henry nodded. “All right. Whoever finishes first waits out here. Good luck.”

  David was going to a different part of the prison. It might be the only thing more disturbing than gen pop. He was buzzed through by a thoroughly bored guard to an even more bored guard who proceeded to pat David down with absolutely no enthusiasm.

  “You can wait in here.” The guard pointed to a small interview room. There was a table and a light overhead that blinked. Not off and on, but enough to let him know it could go dark at any moment. The whole place was unnerving. Isla was right about one thing. This was not the place for Trey Adams to end his days.

  His gut clenched at the thought. Trey Adams had everything. The best doctors. More money than he knew what to do with. All the treatments he could buy. He was still here. He’d lived a life most people couldn’t even dream of. But he was still here. He’d had talent and drive and work ethic.

  He was still here.

  Would he change it? Would he go back, knowing where it would end? Would he have never picked up a football?

  Fuck. He had to get control of himself. He wasn’t here as Isla’s boyfriend. He had to give this man some hard information and make certain he understood.

  The door buzzed open and a massive figure stepped through. The guard didn’t look so bored now. He was smiling and animated as he led Trey into the room.

  “I didn’t think anyone could throw a ball like that, man,” the guard was saying.

  “What? That ball was a desperate plea to the universe. It was the Hail Mary of all Hail Marys,” Trey replied. “Don’t be impressed with me. It was Douglas who caught that sucker. Fastest wide receiver in the game and a damn good man.”

  The guard put a hand over his heart. “Still is. Though not as fast on his feet anymore. Here we are, Mr. Adams.”

  “Trey, please. And thank you.” Trey Adams turned to him. He looked thinner, as though the last few days had stolen something from him. His eyes were weary, but surprisingly clear. “Mr. Cormack, I would shake your hand, but that’s a bit difficult at this time.”

  The guard looked down at Trey’s cuffed hands. “Oh, let me . . .”

  Trey shook his head. “Absolutely not. I appreciate it, but this is safest. We don’t know how long these meds are going to work. Could I have a moment alone with my attorney?”

  It was a complete change from the last time he’d seen Trey.

  The guard stepped back, glancing David’s way. “The docs seem to have found a cocktail of meds that gives him a couple of hours. We don’t know how long they’ll work though. He still reverts at some point in the day, so you should be quick. But he’s not violent unless he’s threatened. If he starts talking about the past like he’s there, go with it. He won’t hurt you. Trey, I’ll be right outside.”

  The door thudded closed and he was locked in.

  “You played for Seattle, right?” Trey asked, his cuffed hands on top of the table.

  “I did, safety, and mostly I played backup. I blew out my knee and gave law school a try,” he explained.

  “That’s impressive. I was never much good at anything but football and . . . well, I was a good husband when I was sane.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I know that doesn’t begin to cover it, but I am.”

  He nodded. “I appreciate it. Now I need something else from you.”

  “Of course.” He was going to explain that it would take some time, but they would get him out of here. “We’re working on getting you a bail hearing on the endangerment charge.”

  Trey shook his head. “No. I don’t want that. I want you to represent me. I murdered my wife. I would like to confess.”

  Yes, that was what he’d been waiting on. Because not only was he a good husband, he was a good father.

  “It won’t work,” David replied quietly. “They have too much evidence on Oscar.”

  Desperation lit Trey’s eyes. “Please. You have to make them believe that it was me. Oscar wouldn’t do this. I know he’s a pain in the ass. I know he hates me because I’m a symbol of everything that’s wrong with his world, but he’s my boy and I won’t ever stop protecting him. But I forget sometimes and Portia . . . my wife wouldn’t want this. Please let me take his place.”

  He did the one thing he knew he shouldn’t but he had to ask. “Did you kill your wife?”

  A hollow look came into his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe. I know I found her. I woke up and I knew something was wrong. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t kill her because I thought she was an intruder and then went back to bed.”

  Had he been living with this guilt? “There was no blood on your sheets or in your room. There was no blood trail to your room. If you woke up in your own bed and then walked to find your wife, there is no way you killed her.”

  The scene had been far too bloody. There were no footprints tracing back to Trey’s room.

  Of course, there hadn’t been any going to the kitchen either. So whoever had killed Portia had to have cleaned his shoes. He made a mental note to ask the police if they’d found anything that the perpetrator could have cleaned himself up with. Or odd footprints in the room.

  Why hadn’t he thought about that in the first place? If Oscar had gotten high and angry with his mom, would he have had the presence of mind to clean up after himself?

  “I can’t let my son stay here.” Trey’s eyes closed as though he could feel what his son was going through.

  “We’re working on his bail right now,” David assured him. “I think I can convince a judge to let him wait out his trial at home. We’ll have to surrender his passport and put him under house arrest, but he’ll be safe. As for you, we’re going to get you a bail hearing and move you to someplace more comfortable. Given your mental health history,
I’m going to push the DA to settle.”

  “You don’t understand.” Trey’s hands fisted and then he seemed to force himself to relax. He leaned over, whispering the words. “I want to say I did it so Oscar doesn’t have to stand trial.”

  He did understand. If he and Isla had a kid, he would do almost anything to protect him or her. Had that thought run through his head? Had he thought about having a child with Isla? He forced himself back to the problems at hand. “The prosecutor isn’t going to believe you.”

  Trey frowned. “But if I say I did it, they have to let Oscar go.”

  “That’s not how it works. Otherwise most kids would never go to jail. Their parents would confess and they would take the blame. The problem is the DA, for the most part, wants the right person in jail. In this case, they would make you prove you did it. I don’t think you can. It wasn’t your fingerprints on the murder weapon.”

  “I could have worn gloves.” Trey’s jaw went tight. “Oscar’s print was there from that morning. He cut up a grapefruit. Portia wasn’t eating. Something was off and had been for a week or so. Since a week or so before she died.”

  “Did you know she was seeing a director every Thursday?” While he was able to, it would help to ask him a couple of questions.

  Trey leaned in, nodding. “Yeah, she was making a movie about us. I mean, it was a lot of football stuff, but I like to think it was about us. I know she was hoping she could show it to me when things got bad. She was hoping it would help me remember how much I loved them all. Love them all. Does that ever go away? She’s dead but love isn’t in the past. Just because she’s not here doesn’t make me love her less.”

  “I can’t imagine how hard this is.” David pulled out his notepad, jotting a few things down. “Did she say or do anything that stood out?”

  “She canceled a trip,” Trey replied. “She said she canceled it because of something that was going to happen. But I can’t remember. I’m sorry. Even on the meds, I can’t remember everything. My head’s still foggy. The last thing I remember vividly talking to her about was how she could get the best footage of the last championship game.”