A Score to Settle

by Kara Lennox

  With a roar of fury Daniel rose, bringing the whole coffee table with him, cheese plate, glass figurines and all. He threw all of his weight behind it, smashing it down on Claude, finishing the job Jamie had started.

  Daniel lurched to his feet and tossed the upturned table aside with the strength of outrage fueling him. Jamie lunged toward the fireplace, perhaps trying to get her hands on the gun, but Mrs. Morel extended her cane and hooked Jamie’s ankle with it.

  With a cry of frustration Jamie fell to her knees.

  Daniel was on top of Claude now, one hand clamped over Claude’s wrist and beating it against the pink carpet, trying to get him to drop the knife. But the rug beneath them was soft, and Claude stubbornly refused to let go.

  Daniel placed a knee in Claude’s gut, grabbed half of a broken glass dog, and banged the sharp edge into Claude’s knife hand.

  Finally the chef released the knife. “All right, all right! For God’s sake, man, you’ve won!”

  “I’ve got the gun, Daniel!” Jamie shouted. “It’s over.”

  But it wasn’t, not for Daniel. His fantasy was coming true. He tossed the knife well away, then fitted his hands around Claude’s neck. “This is for the six years of hell you put me through.” He squeezed. “This is for ruining the last years my parents had on earth.” Claude choked as Daniel squeezed harder. “For killing my friend, and for Christopher Gables and Frank Sissom and everyone else whose lives you ruined.”

  “Daniel, stop! I’ve got the gun.”

  He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to choke the life out of the bastard.

  “Daniel!” she said again, pleading this time. Someone pounded on the door. Mrs. Morel sobbed, pleading for the life of her son.

  Daniel looked over his shoulder at Jamie. She had blood all over her. What was he doing? Letting the woman he loved bleed to death so he could get his revenge? How many lives had he been about to destroy, just so he could settle a score?

  He loosened his hands. Claude gasped for breath.

  “Police. We need to talk to you!” It was Abe Comstock on the front porch, bellowing through the door.

  Daniel raised himself on one knee. “Jamie, how bad are you hurt?”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “You know how to handle a firearm?”

  “Yes. Go get the door.”

  That turned out to be unnecessary. The front door flew open and a crowd of blue uniforms pushed inside, guns drawn.

  Comstock pushed his way to the front and looked around the living room. “Holy mother of— What the hell is going on in here? Jamie, put the gun down!”

  She slowly lowered it. “Mrs. Morel pulled a gun on us,” Jamie said, sounding ridiculously calm. “Then Claude assaulted Daniel with his leg brace and put a knife to my throat, and Daniel fought back, and I got the gun and here we are.”

  “If you’d waited ten minutes,” Comstock said, “you could have saved yourself a lot of trouble. I had a warrant to arrest Claude Morel. This him?” He pointed to the bleeding man on the floor.

  “That’s him.”

  “Somebody call for paramedics.” Comstock knelt down, helped Claude to sit up, then promptly snapped handcuffs on him.

  Daniel went to Jamie and led her to a chair, urging her into it. “You’re not okay. You’re bleeding all over the place.” The blood had soaked through her sweater halfway down her arm and in a half circle over her torso. He pulled apart the sweater where the knife had cut it, then ripped the sleeve apart.

  “Daniel!”

  “Honey, you’re gushing blood like a geyser.” He grabbed one of Mrs. Morel’s needlepoint pillows and pressed it against the cut. “Lean back.” He’d never seen so much blood. If he didn’t stop it, she might bleed out before the paramedics even arrived.

  “Thank you, Daniel.” She stroked his hair with her free hand.

  “Don’t thank me yet. This is dicey first aid.”

  “No, I mean, thank you for not killing Claude. I know you wanted to.”

  “Part of me wanted to,” he admitted. “When I saw that he’d hurt you, everything came rushing back all at once—the pain he’d inflicted on me and my family. I wanted him to feel that pain. But that was the old Daniel, the one who was angry and bitter and wanted an eye for an eye. But the part of me that wants to live—that part was stronger.”

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  “You saved me. I heard your voice calling my name, and it brought me back from the brink. I knew if I killed Claude, my life was over, too. If I killed him—even if it was ruled self-defense—I would have lost you. And that was something I couldn’t give up, my chance with you, a future with you by my side.”

  Daniel heard the sirens approaching and knew he had limited time to say what he wanted to say. Once the paramedics came they would take Jamie away, and then the police would have their day, dissecting today’s events second by second, trying to decide who was guilty of what.

  For all he knew, they might throw him in jail for attempted murder.

  That thought didn’t upset him as much as it would have only yesterday. If he could just get one thing settled.

  “Jamie, beautiful Jamie, you’ve given me back my life, made me strong again. No matter what happens now, I’ll be okay. But do you think we could have a future? Is there hope for us?”

  He waited breathlessly for her answer. But when it didn’t come, he chanced a look at her.

  She had passed out.

  FOR THE SECOND TIME in only a few days, Jamie woke up in a hospital emergency room stuck with enough needles to turn her into a pincushion. This time it wasn’t Robyn’s face she saw when she opened her eyes, though. It was Daniel’s.

  “Jamie. Dear God.”

  Her arm throbbed, and she wished for a few seconds she could just sink back into that lovely, hazy nothingness. But Daniel was here; he wasn’t a dream. That was his hand holding hers, warm and secure.

  “I told you we should have waited in the car,” she said.

  He smiled through a pained expression. “I will listen to you from now on. I promise. How do you feel?”

  “Ready for a dance marathon, can’t you tell?” Then she thought to ask, “Am I okay?”

  “Nothing a couple of gallons of blood and a whole lot of bed rest won’t cure.” It wasn’t Daniel talking, but Dr. Novak. “I wasn’t expecting to see you back here so fast.”

  “It’s not like I was eager to return,” Jamie shot back. “And no, I didn’t try to cut my wrist and miss.”

  “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Dr. Novak checked the readings on various beeping machines. “Ah, your numbers look a whole lot better than when you came in here.”

  “Good. Can I go home?”

  “Not yet, but it won’t be long,” Dr. Novak said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have rounds to make.”

  Once they were alone, Daniel took Jamie’s hand. “I’m breaking you out of here just as soon as I can,” he said. “You’re coming home with me. I’ve appointed myself your twenty-four-hour nurse.”

  “Mmm, Jillian will love that.”

  “Jillian has already packed her things and moved out,” Daniel admitted. “She said I would be sorry, that without her my life would fall apart. She might be right,” he said. “I haven’t done a bang-up job running things so far. But I’m sure I’ll get better at it. So you’ll let me take care of you until you’re stronger?”

  “Anything to get me out of this place.” But once she’d regained her strength, then what? She sighed. “Guess I’ll have to get my résumé in order. Who will want to hire a prosecutor who mistakenly put a man on death row?”

  “Are you kidding? When the true story comes out, you can write your own ticket. At the very least, Chubb will beg you to come back. But I was kind of hoping you’d come work for me.”

  “For you, personally?” She hoped he wasn’t suggesting she should replace Jillian.

  “For Project Justice. As an investigator. You’re damn go
od at it. And we could use another attorney—I rely too much on Raleigh. Whatever the D.A.’s office is paying you, I’ll double it.”

  His offer was tempting—for all of five seconds. She wanted a lot of things, but being Daniel’s employee wasn’t one of them.

  “Daniel, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer or your confidence in me, but I’m a prosecutor. I put bad guys away. It’s what I love.”

  “But we’re a team. You have to admit we work well together.”

  She nodded. “But Project Justice is your dream. And while I admire your passion, it’s not mine.”

  “You’re making this hard on me.”

  “Because I won’t fall in line with your plans?”

  “You don’t remember what we talked about just before you passed out, do you?”

  “Um, no. I remember you putting a pillow on my arm.”

  “Then I’ll start over. I want you in my life. Any way I can get you. Offering you a job seemed the most expedient, but not the most effective, I guess.”

  Jamie’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  “I won’t blame you if you walk away. I’ve been manipulative and high-handed, you’ve almost died because of me not once, not twice, but three times, and I cost you your job.”

  “You do show a lady a good time.” Jamie’s eyes were suddenly awash with tears.

  “Oh, dear God, I’ve made you cry on top of everything else.”

  “Do you mean it, Daniel? I’m not just a…a diversion, or a novelty you’ll get tired of after a while?”

  “I wasn’t going to bring this up, because I thought it was too much, too soon, but I am so sure that I will never grow tired of you that I want us to get married.”

  “Oh, boy…” Her tears spilled over. “Now I really am going to cry. I don’t cry, Daniel. Nothing ever makes me cry.”

  He kissed her tears away.

  “So are you crying because the answer is ‘yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with you’? Or ‘no, you’re crazy as a bedbug and first chance I get, I’m filing a restraining order’?”

  “Daniel. You are crazy as a bedbug.” She kissed him with a lot more passion than she should have, given her health at the moment, and stopped only when she got light-headed from lack of oxygen. “But I do want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you, Daniel.”

  “I love you, Jamie.”

  They would have kissed again, but the door opened and Abe Comstock entered, looking cocky. “Are you about done in here? I told you five minutes, and it’s been fifteen.”

  “She just woke up,” Daniel said with a shrug. Then to Jamie he explained, “I owe him an interview.”

  “Glad to see you’re feeling better, Jamie,” Abe said. “Don’t get too comfortable. Your turn is next. I sure hope y’all’s stories match, ’cause I’m ready for this stinkin’ case to be over.”

  Daniel stood and squeezed her hand. “I’ll see you later. Do what the doctor says.”

  “Yes, Nurse Daniel.”

  THE PODIUM HAD BEEN SET UP on the front steps of the Harris County courthouse, and Jamie’s stomach was filled with butterflies.

  It was January, the new year, more than a month since she’d almost died at Claude Morel’s hands.

  The actions she and Daniel had taken to free Christopher Gables had opened a pretty big can of worms. It had taken a lot of explaining, a lot of interviews. Evidence was checked and cross-checked, stories compared.

  In the end, the Houston police and the Harris County district attorney’s office had both grudgingly agreed they had made a mistake in sending Christopher Gables to prison. Claude Morel had been charged with two counts of first-degree murder, one count of attempted murder and two counts of felony assault.

  Christopher Gables had been released from prison. Although Jamie hadn’t talked to him, he had sent her a polite note, through his new attorney, thanking her for her role in his exoneration.

  Project Justice had received another round of praise from the media and from various government officials, from the Houston mayor to the president of the United States, and donations for the important work Project Justice did rolled in. Daniel had started coming into work at the office three days a week.

  It had taken Jillian exactly forty-eight hours to realize Daniel wasn’t going to come crawling back, begging for her to resume her position as his assistant and/or his girlfriend, lover or wife. A penitent, subdued Jillian had asked Daniel for a second chance, doing whatever job he thought she would be good at. He’d offered her a couple of administrative positions at both Project Justice and Logan Oil. In the end she had surprised everyone by asking if she could be an intern at Project Justice, learning to investigate from the ground up.

  Daniel had agreed to give it a try.

  Jillian had also personally apologized to Jamie for her attitude. She admitted she was wrong about Jamie, and hoped they could someday be friends. Jamie, too happy with Daniel to bear a grudge, had told her all was forgiven.

  Everyone in Daniel’s circle, both his household staff and his employees, had seemed thrilled by the news of Daniel’s engagement. The women, especially, had circled around Jamie, asking if she wanted help planning the wedding and in general trying to make her feel as welcome as possible. They all made it a point to say that her former—and possibly future—occupation didn’t bother them.

  Now here they all were, gathered around her and Daniel to show their support.

  Daniel checked his watch. “It’s about that time. Are you nervous?”

  “Terrified.”

  “Me, too.”

  Daniel still didn’t like crowds or closed-in spaces, and she couldn’t get him inside a shopping mall. But he’d made remarkable progress since deciding to take back control of his life.

  “What if they throw rotten tomatoes?” she asked.

  “We’ll duck.”

  At the appointed time, Daniel stepped up to the microphone. “Good morning, and thank you all for coming. I’m Daniel Logan, and this is former Assistant District Attorney Jamie McNair. We called you here to address a number of issues.

  “A lot of rumors have been flying around since the arrest of Claude Morel. You’ve had to rely on often conflicting and confusing police reports as well as a lot of ‘unnamed sources close to the story’ who frankly didn’t know what they were talking about.

  “So here’s the skinny. Ms. McNair and I cooperated in the investigation that led to Morel’s arrest and the overturn of Christopher Gables’s conviction. Jamie was dismissed from the district attorney’s staff as a result of philosophical differences over this case.

  “Yes, Jamie and I both sustained minor injuries when we… When I made the unwise decision to confront a man who was cornered and desperate. But as you can plainly see, neither of us is in a coma on life support, neither of us has brain damage and Jamie still has both of her arms.”

  The crowd laughed a bit. Daniel was making reference to a couple of tabloid stories showing badly doctored photos of Jamie with only one arm, and Daniel in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines.

  “How did you figure out Claude was the murderer?” one of the reporters shouted out.

  “We can’t comment on that—it’s an ongoing investigation. In fact, we’ve told you pretty much all we can on that subject. So let’s move on. Jamie has something she’d like to say.”

  Jamie stepped up to the podium.

  “Good morning. The events of the last few weeks have brought home to me a few truths about crime and punishment—namely, things may not always be what they appear, and sometimes there are no right answers. As an assistant district attorney I wielded a lot of power. I had the ability to save lives by putting murderers behind bars and to ruin lives if I put the wrong person in prison.

  “No one is immune to mistakes. Not cops, not judges and certainly not district attorneys. As you know, Harris County District Attorney Winston Chubb has announced he will leave office in May, before his term is up. There will be a
special election held to fill the vacancy. This morning, I am announcing my candidacy. If elected, what I will bring to the office is an open mind. A commitment to looking for the right answers, even when they’re not easy. A willingness to admit mistakes when they’re made, and correct them.

  “I’ll have more specifics about my platform in the coming days and weeks. But right now, I’d like to change the subject one more time. Daniel?”

  Daniel took the microphone again. “Rumors have been swirling for weeks now about the supposed relationship between myself and Jamie McNair. I want to be very clear about this. The rumors are absolutely…true. We are, in fact, engaged to be married.”

  Jamie was ready to step down. They had agreed that they wouldn’t give out any details about their approaching nuptials.

  But Daniel kept talking.

  “I’m sure some of you think it’s odd, that we’re on different sides of the fence and how could that work? We’ll keep each other on our toes, that’s for sure. But I just want you to know, Jamie is the most wonderful thing to come into my life. She is passionate about her work, but she is filled with compassion, as well. I believe those qualities will serve her well—as district attorney, and as my wife.

  “To you naysayers, I will add that I love this woman more than life itself. Love can overcome an awful lot. I’m living proof.”

  He hugged her and she hugged him back, heedless of how mushy they looked.

  “Damn it, Daniel,” she whispered in his ear, “you’re making my mascara run in front of the TV cameras.”

  “You’ll thank me later,” he whispered back. “Listen to that applause. I just got you elected.”

  Maybe she’d win the election, maybe she wouldn’t. It didn’t matter. With Daniel at her side, she was already a winner.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8969-1

  A SCORE TO SETTLE

  Copyright © 2011 by Karen Leabo

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.