by Joanne Rock
“So they set you free and cleared your record.” She traced a ripple of muscle along the warm sinew of his forearm, somehow knowing in her gut that he hadn’t shared the worst of what happened while he was locked up. But she suspected there were some things a person could never share and she’d recognized that boundary when he’d told her the story.
“I hated that detective for putting my brother away when I’d already done time for the crime.” He gripped her wandering hand and then lined up their fingers before interlocking them. He stared at the bond he’d created while his thoughts seemed a world away. “I don’t know how I went from hate to grudging respect, but that’s how it went. In the end you had to admire someone who wouldn’t accept a lie. After four years of college and faking like I belonged there, I entered the police academy.”
Where he made sure no one else was sent to jail on poorly interpreted evidence. He didn’t need to say it for her to understand.
“You became a cop.” She turned over that knowledge, looking at it with new eyes. “You made it a mission.”
He winced slightly at her word choice.
“I became a cop because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. But I didn’t realize how much pride I took in the badge until I started making some questionable decisions this week.”
“Because of me.” No wonder he’d been silently pulling away from her. She’d felt it but hadn’t been quite sure why.
“No.” He shook his head, determination in his eyes and in the squeeze of his grip around her fingers. “Because of me. I was the one who showed up on your doorstep wanting more. But technically I should have waited a few weeks to be sure nothing would develop on your case.”
His spin on events didn’t take away the fact that she’d been the cause of some regrets for him. And that hurt her whether he wanted it to or not.
“Warren, I—”
“I have the right to a personal life. I’ll talk to a review committee about it, but I can tell you right now that if I had it to do over, I wouldn’t change one thing.”
The way their palms were sealed together by their fingers seemed like proof of his words, the physical manifestation of a larger connection they shared in spite of everything they’d intended.
A door had opened between them and Tabitha felt all her emotions sucked right through it, irrevocably tied up in him. No matter that she was on the run for her life, she’d found something precious on that journey because meeting Warren made her want to take chances again, to risk herself in spite of all the ways she’d been burned before.
And whether or not Warren wanted anything more with her, she knew she’d never regret gambling with her heart on such an incredible guy.
She searched for the right words to tell him as much, to let him know she didn’t want to put any more walls between them. But before she could express a fraction of the emotions pouring through her, the security alarm blared a high-pitched wail as exterior lights flashed on all over the property.
Someone was outside.
CHAPTER 15
WARREN HAD NO MEMORY of putting his clothes on, but he must have pulled on his pants during his sprint across the room because they were in place by the time he opened the back door to admit the two local cops standing on the porch.
“Can I help you?” Warren didn’t appreciate the arrival and he made a mental note of the badge numbers the younger men flashed under his nose.
His scheme to keep Tabitha in residence on the sly was destined for failure now that anyone watching the house could tell there were still occupants inside. Buster went crazy in the kitchen, the dog’s vicious barks reminding Warren that he could attack when the mood struck and now—facing down a couple of local cops—definitely wasn’t a good time for Buster to let loose. He’d have to put the dog in the basement.
“We’re following up on a tip from a neighbor who said she saw someone skulking about. Her word, not ours.” The younger officer grinned, ample ears lifting his hat slightly on his head as a toothy smile kicked in. “Any chance you saw a skulker in a white sedan?”
“You think she saw someone near this property?” He stilled, plenty interested in his neighbor’s report.
The older officer—by all of a couple of years—stepped forward, his eyes darting around the house behind Warren. No doubt the sounds of a psycho dog were making the guys uneasy.
“She saw the car parked on the road between her house and yours and thought you had company, but then she observed someone walking down by the river in the dark and gave us a call to check it out.”
“Maybe you’d better come in. Just let me park the dog downstairs.” He figured it couldn’t hurt to get the local cops on his side, especially since he could feel Tabitha’s nervousness as she lurked in the back hallways of the house. Listening. Worried.
She’d been so nonjudgmental about his past. About his brother. He appreciated the open mind almost as much as he appreciated her not digging through his memories of juvenile detention. Some ghosts were better left in the past.
He didn’t know what Tabitha thought about him now that she knew the truth, but at least she’d listened without freaking out the way Melinda had. His ex-wife had nearly lost her mind to discover Warren had served time, even if it had been a mistake. But maybe she’d just been shaken because she could finally understand his commitment to his job that ensured he’d never take that slot in his father’s lucrative company.
No, Tabitha definitely wasn’t the same kind of woman as Melinda Cartwright, but Warren didn’t plan to make another move with Tabitha until he got a better read on her reaction. And right now, she might be too keyed up about her stalker’s return to give much thought to a future that might—if he were very fortunate—include Warren.
* * *
TABITHA DIDN’T KNOW HOW to contribute to the investigation at this point. She staked out a spot on the sleep porch with Buster as the sun rose that morning, grateful for the chance to get fresh air without having to actually leave the house.
Wrapped in her winter coat and a blanket she’d taken off the end of her bed, she settled for a corner against the wall of the house. Sitting on the floor allowed her to stay below the screened section of the walls, preventing anyone outside from seeing her.
Not that she expected her presence to be a mystery since the police visit last night. Warren had talked to the local cops well into the night, long after she fell asleep. She’d stumbled down the stairs shortly before dawn to find him at the computer, mumbling something about tracking online orders for underage porn to a distribution point. She’d assumed that route would lead him to the stalker but she had no idea how long it might take or how reliable the information would be. If it had been a simple job, no doubt the police would have done it already.
Now she just needed a few minutes to get her head together before she faced Warren again, a little time to figure out how to proceed from here. He’d shown her a part of himself she knew he didn’t reveal to many people. Would he regret the intimacy after he’d fought so hard to keep some emotional distance from her?
God knows she’d done some fighting of her own, too. But the hell Manny had put her through seemed more manageable now, maybe because she could see her way out of it. She had a plan for achieving different dreams, for returning to filmmaking the way she’d planned so many years ago.
What would Warren think of her behind the camera?
A cold breeze stung her cheek as the wind whipped across the mountains and Tabitha lifted her face into the bracing air. The day seemed rife with new possibilities if only she knew who wanted to stop her—permanently.
The classical ring tone on her cell phone chimed from underneath the blanket, startling Buster as much as her. She hadn’t asked Warren about cell phone use since her stalker had discovered their whereabouts. Was she not supposed to answer it? Or did it matter since a cell couldn’t be traced to a particular location?
The caller ID screen showed the name of her ex’s law firm.
Former law firm now that Manny and Braeden had parted ways. Remembering Warren’s questions about Braeden and his connection to Evelyn, Tabitha made a split decision to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Tabitha, it’s Braeden O’Leary. Do you have a minute?”
She looked around the sleep porch at Buster lying contentedly in the corner.
“I guess so. But I thought you weren’t representing Manny anymore?” She’d barely been able to afford her own lawyer in the divorce, and Braeden had made mincemeat out of the guy so Tabitha had every reason to dislike Braeden. But she didn’t. She’d always empathized with him that Manny had chosen his attorney’s girlfriend for an affair.
Still, Warren told her this guy could fit the profile of a stalker. Of course, so could some of Manny’s other business associates, but she would be cautious.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I think it’s time you knew a few things about your ex’s business dealings now that I’m not on Manny’s payroll anymore. Do you have some time to meet today so we could talk about it in private?”
Unease pricked her skin, creeping over her shoulders and up the back of her neck. Could Braeden possess information that would incriminate Manny? Warren had thought all along her ex played a role in the stalking. Did Braeden know something about that? Or did he simply wish to alert her to some of Manny’s underhandedness during the divorce proceedings? Either way, the promised information enticed her.
“Today is busy for me,” she hedged, unwilling to admit her location. “Could we discuss it now, over the phone?”
She could have Warren listen in with her.
There was a pause on the other end of the call.
“I’m really putting my professional reputation at risk by talking to you. You can’t at least offer me some assurance that what I say will go no further? You know how unreliable cell phone connections can be when it comes to privacy.” His censorious tone told her she wouldn’t be receiving any sensitive information this way.
“Actually, Braeden, I’m out of town for a little while. Some personal problems.” That kept things vague enough. “Can I call you back in an hour after I work out some of the details and I’ll figure out a time we could talk?”
Warren would know how they could set up a meeting so that she’d be secure. Or maybe he could be with her when she spoke to Braeden. Then again, maybe Braeden would never confide in her if a cop was involved. The complications multiplied.
“Look, Tabitha. In case you haven’t figured it out already, your ex is a dangerous man with considerable power. I’m not going to jeopardize my own work in the industry to help you when I’m already sticking my neck out to make this call. Tell me where to meet you and I’ll be there, but don’t jerk me around. If you’re going to try involving your crappy lawyer or anyone else, the deal’s off.”
Caught off guard by the vehemence in his voice, she wished she’d involved Warren the moment the phone rang. If this call had been on speakerphone, she could have had help dissecting the words or encouraging Braeden to talk. As it was, she only had her gut to trust and it told her that Braeden knew something integral to the threat against her.
Wasn’t it time she started counting on herself anyway? She’d spent the past year throwing herself in front of the camera as a body double to prove she wouldn’t be run out of the business and to assure herself she didn’t need a negative body image. Hadn’t that experience taught her some measure of self-reliance?
Acting on instinct, she capitalized on one of the few leads that might reveal a stalker, a murderer and possibly the business structure behind an underage porn ring.
“Okay.” Taking a deep breath, she figured she’d set up the appointment on her own and then bring the information to Warren. If she had to back out, so be it. “Where should I meet you and when?”
“You said you’re coming in from out of town?”
“Yes.”
“Driving or flying?”
“I’ll be driving.”
“From which direction?”
“I’ll be coming from the north.” She didn’t see any great harm in sharing that much. The stalker would know where she was coming from anyhow.
“Then I’ll meet you at Ramapo rest area on the New York State Thruway. How’s six o’clock? Does that give you enough time to get there?”
She could be there in less than an hour, but she didn’t share that with him. Better to simply agree and let him think she could be in Canada.
“Fine.”
“And, Tabitha?” His voice was abrupt, his professional tone.
“Yeah?”
“Come alone or I’ll turn my car around and drive straight home.” The phone disconnected on the other end, leaving Tabitha to contend with the sudden silence.
She didn’t know quite how to handle this request for a private audience, but she knew she was done ducking from life and hoping the worst would be over soon. As of today, she’d find a way to take charge of her future. If that meant facing up to some unpleasant truths about her ex, she would be ready.
Warren had battled his way through a hellish childhood to become someone strong and honorable even though life had conspired against him. If he could still believe in himself and the justice system after all he’d been through, couldn’t she find the strength to put her ex behind bars?
With tender new feelings for Warren curling gently around her heart, Tabitha knew the answer was a resounding yes. Because no ghosts from the past would intrude on her chance for a future with Warren.
* * *
“HE SAID HE HAD information on Manny’s business dealings?”
As he sat across from Tabitha at the kitchen table, Warren tried unsuccessfully to tamp down his frustration at not being notified of this phone call the moment it came in. In her defense, Tabitha had obviously done what she thought was best by arranging a meeting with someone who had information pertinent to his investigation. But he couldn’t keep her safe if she went anywhere without him, even if he sat in another car nearby.
Too risky.
“Yes.” She sat rigidly on her bench at the built-in table. “I thought you’d want to know what he had to offer since Manny has been on your list of suspects from the beginning.”
“I do want to know. I’m just not willing to put you at risk to find out.” He debated alternate methods. “You’re sure he won’t talk to you on the phone? Did you offer to make a phone call on a landline? We could take you to a pay phone or reroute the call from here so it looks like it’s coming from somewhere else.”
She was already shaking her head, her small feather earrings dancing back and forth with the movement.
“He nixed the phone out of concern for his privacy. Maybe he thinks he could be recorded.” She shrugged and the feathers rested on her shoulder for a moment before she relaxed again.
It seemed an odd time for him to notice her clothes, but the earrings led his eye on a visual journey south to the top buttons unfastened on her blouse. Even now he couldn’t ignore his attraction to her.
“Recorded phone calls are probably a valid fear, given that I would have liked to do just that, but—” Damn. He didn’t want to tell her all the ways she could have handled the call after the fact, but the meeting she’d set up put him in a hell of a spot.
“I’m sorry I didn’t track you down during the call.” Resting her chin in her elbow, she stared him down, her gaze challenging him to say the wrong thing.
No doubt she felt defensive since her ex had apparently tried his level best to chip away at her self-esteem. Didn’t she expect him to do the same? The idea forced him to take a step back. Reevaluate.
“No. You did what you thought would be best. I should have prepped you for that kind of scenario. If he calls again—or if anyone else calls—just make sure you put the phone on speaker and position yourself close to me.”
“Done. You’re sure we shouldn’t try to rearrange the meeting to another location that works for you?�
�� She bit her lip, her worry obvious. “What if he knows something significant?”
The temptation to nail Tabitha’s cheating ex was strong, but Warren wouldn’t allow personal feelings to play havoc with his case. The fact that this guy Braeden had made contact with Tabitha in the first place moved the lawyer higher up the suspect list. Could the attorney be connected to the illicit films of young girls being distributed for a profit? Donata had thought all along that a legitimate filmmaker had a hand in the illegal scam since the editing of the so-called reality-porn films was slick and professional.
Manny fit the bill, of course, but so did most of his friends. Both Evelyn and Braeden had been listed as assistant producers on some of his projects. Production credits were easy enough to obtain if you had some money to pour into film projects.
“Warren?” Tabitha’s voice reminded him he hadn’t answered her.
“Sorry. We’ll revisit the matter of Braeden in a little while. First, I wonder if Manny ever used that .38 he bought you for fun or practice?”
Tabitha’s eyebrows knit together. Clearly she hadn’t expected to go down this road again.
“He did go to a local practice range after he bought the cursed thing. But since his monstrously large ego couldn’t stand the idea of looking totally clueless at the firing range, he took the gun out in our backyard and fired at cans or a dartboard or something in the nearby woods.”
Oh, that made his day.
If he could tie the murder weapon more closely to Manny Redding, the suspect list narrowed and the case would be all the easier to build. And the satisfaction of putting her ex behind bars would be all the sooner realized.
“You said you used to live in Connecticut, right?” They could make the drive in a couple of hours. He kept an old four-wheel drive truck in the garage for winter trips. They could use that since his friends had taken his car back to the city to trick the stalker.
“Yes. Why?”
“We’re going to make this easier on ourselves by solving the dilemma of the murder weapon once and for all. If I can dig some shell casings out of a tree, I’ll be able to tell if the weapon that shot John de Milo belonged to you.”
