She nodded once, but her hands remained in fists.
I continued in a gentler voice. “I talked to a few of his co-workers at the clinic, and they all said that he loved you. I’m sure he didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want it to touch you.”
Her lips trembled. “Yeah, he sure loved me. He left me with this mess, which is never going to go away,” she said, then angrily brushed a tear from her cheek. She grimaced at the contact.
Her injuries were still bothering her. A knot formed in my belly. “I’m not defending him. Hell, he was living on borrowed time after he made that deal with the Cancerberos. He probably told himself it was a onetime thing, supplying them with pills, then only a few more times, until he was so buried in the corruption, he was done.”
“The prosecutor said that he’d been buying Heroin from them, and then stealing from the clinic to help pay for it.” She let out a soft sob. “You have no idea how hard it is for that clinic to get and keep funding to service the people who need it. He took pills that could have helped somebody. He broke his oath.” She started shaking her head slowly. “All that time… I worked so hard while he was training. Two jobs. I hardly had any time to do anything else. I kept on, because I thought I was helping pay down his school loans. I was proud of him, of us. He didn’t go into private practice—no, the wonderful Dr. Shepherd wanted to help the disadvantaged, and he ended up stealing from them.”
The bulb in the floor lamp beside my chair popped, and then died. The room plunged into darkness. The only light shining into the room came from the porch through a crack in the drapes at the front window.
Layla’s body jerked in surprise, and then she rose to her feet.
I stopped her movement. “Leave it.”
“But it’s dark in here.”
“Deal with it in a minute.”
She slowly took her seat.
“Sometimes it’s easier to say things in the dark, out of the glare of the light.”
She scooted deeper into the corner of the sofa and curled her legs under her ass.
“Tell me about the night he died.” I was curious why the shooter hadn’t gone after her. It was sloppy. But then again, the suspect wasn’t the smartest.
“Another great example of my stupidity,” she said, her tone filled with disgust. “We were both home that night. I couldn’t tell you the last time that had happened. I’d made a special dinner filled with Brian’s favorites, and then I went upstairs.” She shifted her legs so that her knees were bent in front of her body. She wrapped her arms around them making her smaller.
“Did he tell you to go upstairs?” I asked quietly.
“No.” She rocked a few times. “This is really embarrassing.”
I heard her let out a long sigh.
“I’d gone shopping after class, and I’d bought this new nightgown. I thought…hoped that we could…uhm, you know.” Her embarrassment was easily heard as she searched for the right words.
I stayed silent.
“I wanted sex. I planned on seducing him, so I went upstairs and changed, put on some perfume, and brushed my teeth. I was giving myself a pep talk when the doorbell chimed.”
“He probably wouldn’t have been able to get it up anyway.” I ground the words out. Christ, what a waste the good doctor was as a husband.
Her body jerked to face me. “What do you mean?” she whispered.
“No matter how good you looked that night, the drugs would have interfered. In all likelihood, he was impotent.”
“So it wasn’t me? It was the drugs.”
She said it so quietly, I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly. “The shooter didn’t pursue you?”
Her body jerked as she refocused on the events of the night, “No, I was in a long black nightgown, and the staircase lights were off. Brian hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights in the entranceway either, so it was pretty dark. The only light came from the porch. I sort of froze. If I made a sound, he didn’t hear me, and then he turned and ran.”
“The report said that you went back into your bedroom. You didn’t check on your husband?” I wanted to hear this part in her own words.
She rocked back and forth a few times. “I couldn’t help him. I knew, just knew that the gun was too close and pointed right at his chest. Then the shooter put another in his head.” She touched her index finger to the middle of her forehead. “There was nothing I could do.” She glanced at me and bit her bottom lip as she gauged my reaction. “He was gone. Christ, I’d already lost him to the drugs, and then right there in our entrance way, I watched him die.” She started to cry softly.
I moved around the coffee table and sat on the arm of the sofa beside her. I slowly put my arm around her shoulders, because I didn’t know whether she would accept my touch.
Layla didn’t move away. She cleared her throat and continued, “I hid in the shower. The police had to knock the bathroom door down.” She started to wipe her eyes. “God, I’m so tired of crying over this, over him.” Then she cried some more.
This time, I slipped onto the sofa, pulled her head against my chest, and listened to her cry.
When the sobs stopped, she sat up and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired of being caught up in this. I’m trying to move on, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”
“The trial date is in a month. After the conviction, you can move on,” I said, knowing full well she might never get over the events. I paused for a minute then asked, “Ramon Moreno—does that name mean anything to you?”
She sniffed as she shifted farther from my body, and I let my arm slide off of her back. “No, is he related to the shooter?”
“Brother. He’s the one who attacked you and Zoe Alessi.” That bit of information had been easy enough to ferret out.
“Have you told the police?” she asked, sounding tired.
“I will in a little while.” I planned on picking him up and delivering him to the precinct myself.
“Is this because I can identify his brother?”
She was a smart woman. “I think so. I’m going to talk to the detectives in charge of your case to get a few more drive-bys, and I’ll have my associate call the prosecutor.”
“You think I’ll have more problems, don’t you?” Her eyes were now slitted, as if her brain was in overdrive thinking of what could happen.
I didn’t like that she sounded resigned. “Why don’t we revisit the offer of protective custody that the city offered?” I wanted her to take it, but she had to be willing.
“Forde, you probably know how I grew up. I’m not stupid. If the Cancerberos or the Moreno’s want me dead, they’ll find me whether I’m here or locked up in a room paid for by the city.”
“Layla, I don’t think you’re stupid. Stubborn maybe, resigned absolutely. With protection, you have a deterrent that might make any Moreno still out there think twice about coming after you.” I touched her again, placing my hand on her elbow. “Don’t give up. Not for him, not for anyone,” I said with some heat.
“I’m not giving up. I’m not responsible for any of this. I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of Brian’s weaknesses.”
I heard the steel in her voice. That made me smile. “Good to know. I’ll have my people drive by to keep an eye on things, too. The increase in traffic may help.” I got up. “Now tell me where your light bulbs are. I’ll change that one for you.”
“In the kitchen cabinet.” She jumped to her feet. “Wait, you don’t have to. I’m perfectly capable…” She followed me to the kitchen, turning on the light.
I started opening cabinet doors.
She threw one open so hard the door slammed against the one beside it. Clearly she didn’t want me to do this for her.
“I don’t doubt that you can change it, but why don’t you let me do it? You fed me delicious cookies, so let this be my way of showing gratitude.” I raised my eyebrows as if I was asking her
permission.
She handed me a fresh bulb and followed me back the living room. “Well then, okay, thank you.” She was stomping a little to let me know she wasn’t happy with this, but she allowed me to help.
Not totally defeated, and the feistiness was cute. I fought off a laugh as I screwed the bulb in, and the room was once again illuminated. I put the burned-out bulb on the table and headed to the front door. “I’ll let you know when I get this all tied up.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate it,” she said, following me.
At the doorway, I turned. “Layla, be careful. Program my numbers into your cell and keep it charged and on you at all times. Hear me?”
“I will,” she said, not meeting my gaze.
God that really bugged me. I waited.
Finally, she looked up. “I will, but it sounds like you can close this case tomorrow.”
“This case is far from closed.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. Then I watched her gather her strength to speak up. “I can’t afford you, and Nora shouldn’t have to pay for more of your time. I mean, that’s really kind of you, but you can’t do any more.”
I leaned closer. “Lay, some really bad guys have you on their radar. I don’t like it and you shouldn’t either.”
She continued looking at me, searching my face like she wanted to see something there.
“If I can help keep you safe, then I’m doing it. My bottom line is my concern, so don’t worry about it.”
She pulled in her bottom lip and bit it so hard that I was worried it was going to bleed. “Thank you.”
“Lock up, babe. I won’t leave your porch until I hear both locks click.”
“’Kay.” She looked a little overwhelmed as she closed the door and threw the locks.
Chapter Four
I slammed the rental’s backdoor and threw the deadbolt. “Could this day get any worse?” I asked aloud. Not expecting an answer, I grabbed the only Sprite left in the fridge and headed to the sofa. I dropped down onto the deep cushion and rested my head against the padded back, closing my eyes tightly. “Not going to cry,” I muttered, “not this time.” I don’t know if I was saying it to bolster my control or to impress the gods. How much more can I take? Now, no job. What the fuck am I going to do?
I don’t know how long I sat like that. When I finally pulled out of the funk, my stomach was growling. It was after seven. I got up and headed to the kitchen to put the lasagna in the oven to heat. Cooking calms me, plus I’m kinda good at it. When the call had come earlier that morning from the human resource manager at Emtee’s, I’d felt nervous. I’d hoped that she wanted to see me to offer me a fulltime position, or even better, a promotion, but with my luck I’d doubted it. I had this feeling of dread, and I was starting to pay attention to my sixth sense. So to avoid thinking about the meeting, I’d gone to the store and bought the supplies to make lasagna with garlic bread. Avoidance, you are my new best friend.
After setting the oven on pre-heat, I walked to the dining room table; my calculator and bills were sitting at the far end. I sat down, took a deep breath, and held it for the count of five. I dug in my purse for my checkbook. I couldn’t put off trying to budget my limited funds while I started a job search. My balance told me I couldn’t be picky. I needed a job, any job. I didn’t have Wi-Fi; I’d cut that out two months ago. So, it looked like first thing in the morning, I’d go to the library to start my job search. I could always call Aunt Nora to see if she could use me around her office. I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment. My stomach churned. I’d have to use every bit of patience that I had. Nora had an established business, but she was a demanding and grossly unorganized boss. I would be spending most of my time hunting for a missing document or trying to find an e-mail that should have been dealt with two days prior. I could do it, but it wouldn’t be easy. Filling in at her office here and there was doable, but every day? I’d just have to pull up my big girl panties and endure. Crap, I hated to ask her for yet another favor. Growing up, it was my only source of pride—I paid my own way. Now, I felt like I was always taking and doing, no giving.
My cell’s generic ringtone sounded. Great, the screen read: Forde’s Cell. I wanted to answer, sounding professional and cool; however, I was anything but. The man sparked my interest, and it had been a long time since I’d felt that way. I didn’t have the time or energy to pursue that curiosity. Besides, I had no idea what I’d do with a man like him.
I took a deep breath. “Mr. Forde.” I could be straight to the point, all business, as I tried to ignore the flutter in my stomach.
“There’s no parking in front of your place. I’ll be at your back door in ninety seconds. Don’t unlock until I knock and identify myself.” His deep voice didn’t mask the command behind his words.
Another order. Geeze, was it so hard for the man to make a polite request? “No, I’m not busy, please stop by,” I answered sarcastically. I’d had just about enough of people pushing me around today.
“Door, Layla.” Then he clicked off.
I estimated that I had about thirty seconds to get to the door. I didn’t even want to think what would happen if I made him wait.
He knocked twice. “It’s Forde. Open the door, Lay.”
I did and stepped back. Forde entered my kitchen, and I swear the air in the room changed. It was like everything was supercharged with his energy. He took three steps inside and flashed a smile in my direction, and then headed to the refrigerator. He opened the door and did an inventory of the meager stock.
“Can I have a water? Please?” He had the plastic bottle in his hand and was in the process of unscrewing the top when he finished his question.
I glared at him. “Sure, apparently my water is your water.” I couldn’t help it, his arrogance pissed me off.
As he took several long drinks, he watched me. I felt like he was cataloging what I was wearing: khaki capris and a short-sleeved chambray shirt that had snap closures up the front. I stopped my hands before they moved to smooth the closures over my big boobs. It pulled a little tight and would sometimes gape.
“I like the attitude. It’s cute.” He smiled.
God, he did have a nice smile. I could see the lines at the sides of his eyes. It made him less intimidating and more approachable. Something inside of me wanted to make him do it again. “That’s me, a real cutie.” I turned on my heel and headed back to the living room.
He followed. “I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to report in about what’s been going on.” He sat in what I now thought of as “his” chair.
“Well, uhm, thank you, but you could have just told me over the phone.” I finished lamely. The wind had left my sails. I wasn’t good at giving attitude. It went against my “hiding in the shadows” personality.
“I’m here for selfish reasons. I was hoping to get some more cookies.” He gave me another grin.
This one was mischievous, and I was totally disarmed. I returned his grin. “I don’t have any cookies, but if you want to stay for dinner, I made lasagna…?” Why the fuck did I just do that? It had to be the smile. It made me stupid.
“You make it or buy it?” He glanced toward the kitchen.
“I made it.” I hoped that I sounded outraged. “I cook when I’m nervous.” I tried to glare at him. Me, buy lasagna? Was he crazy? Mine was awesome
“What’s made you nervous?” His demeanor changed. He went from teasing to serious protector in the blink of an eye.
“It was something at work.” I glanced over at the table where I had dropped the offensive Notice of Dismissal letter.
The muscles at the side of his jaw were flexing, like he was grinding his teeth. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’d like to stay for dinner.” He lifted one eyebrow while he waited for my decision.
I nodded once. “So what’s going on with my case?” I needed to get back to business.
“We turned over our findings to Detective Eames,
and Ramon Moreno was dropped off this morning at the station. I don’t know if he’ll bond out, but it was made clear to him that he doesn’t know you.”
“What does that mean?” I was happy that my attacker had been arrested, but I was confused. It was like Forde spoke a different language. I may have grown up hard, but I stayed far away from the streets. As he leaned forward, I couldn’t help but notice the strength in his thighs; his jeans clung to the thick muscles.
“What it means is that my guy Osi and I found him and made our feelings known. You’re under my protection.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips. I wasn’t used to someone defending me. “I hope he got the message.”
Forde gave an evil grin. “I won’t have a problem if he needs another lesson.”
Yikes, I didn’t even want to think about what that meant, but it sounded painful. Forde’s grin was enough to make me believe that he would very much like to hurt Ramon.
“How long will it take until the food’s ready?”
The quick change of topic made my head swim. “About twenty more minutes.” That would give me time to make the garlic bread. I wondered if he liked cheese on his. I’d do some with and some without.
He stood. “While we wait, I’ll go to the store.”
I followed him to the kitchen as he headed to the back door. “Why?” It seemed a little abrupt. He’d practically invited himself to stay, and now he wanted to go?
“Need wine. Red okay with you?”
I smiled. That was …nice. “Red’s fine.”
“Where’re your keys?”
This man made no sense. He was all over the place with his commands, his questions, and his kindness. “Why do you need my keys?”
His lips tightened. “Lay, all the questions are cute right now, but later, you’re gonna have to trust me and not fight me on every point.”
My hand went to my hip, and I glared at him through slitted eyes. “I just wanted to know. Geeze, they’re my keys.” I let out a huffing noise, “They’re in my purse.” I pointed through the doorway to the table.
Better (The Change Series Book 2) Page 3
