Without Justice

by Carsen Taite

  Asher grinned. “Pretty much.”

  Cade slid a twenty across the table. “I’ll buy, but you order. Bring me a regular cup of coffee.”

  Asher stood and stuffed the bill in her pocket. Before she made her way to the counter, she leaned over and whispered in Cade’s ear. “Pretty sure the guy at the table by the door has the hots for you. He keeps looking over here. Either that or you owe him money.” She barely had the last word out of her mouth before she shuffled off to the counter and placed their order.

  Cade shook her head but purposely didn’t glance at the guy Asher had pointed out. Eric Bosco had appeared on her doorstep last night in response to a call from Kennedy. Cade had braced for the big guy to haul her off against her will, but it turned out Bosco’s presence was a compromise, and Kennedy made it clear if Cade refused to leave, she would have to have a bodyguard until they could sort things out.

  Maybe she should have left last night. It would have been easy to pack a couple of bags and ride off to the next clandestine locale. All the explaining would have been left to Kennedy, and she would’ve had a clean slate in a new life, again.

  She’d gone as far as packing her bags, but when the time came to lock up the house and jump-start her new identity, she simply couldn’t do it. What if Fontana chased her to the next place? If, as she feared, he’d found her here, who was to say she’d be safe anywhere? She was in a much better position to evade him if she wasn’t on the run. If she moved to another town, she’d eventually be lulled into a false sense of security, and one moment of inattention could be her last. No, she’d stay here and lure Fontana out of hiding so he could be taken down like the animal he was.

  Kennedy had come unglued when she announced her decision, insisting she was being irrational, but Cade stood her ground, threatening to go public if Kennedy didn’t go along.

  “I can only guarantee your protection if you do what I say.”

  “That sounds an awful lot like imprisonment, not protection.”

  “Call it what you will, but no witness in the program has ever been harmed—”

  “If they follow the rules. I know, I know.” She explained her position. “I’ve followed all of your rules, but it looks like Fontana has figured out where I am. Did you know Sam Wade worked in the personnel department at Jordan? Who’s to say he didn’t give Fontana information about me before he got his throat slit?”

  “No one at the college knows who you really are.”

  “You can’t be certain of that.” Cade sighed. “I’m staying here. If you want to pull my protection, go ahead, but then you can explain to Jodie Waverly why you left her key witness twisting in the wind.” She stared hard at Kennedy to convey the full force of her will. She wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t making a huge mistake, but she couldn’t deny the surge of power that came with deciding her own destiny.

  Now, seated at this cafe, about to enlist the help of a twenty-year-old blogger, she couldn’t help but question the wisdom of her decision. She looked across the room. Asher was flirting with the cashier. One word to Eric and Cade could be out of here, whisked away to someplace far away. She glanced at the door. She could almost see the outline of the courthouse across the square. Was Emily in her office? Did her thoughts ever roam to the brief, but consuming time they’d shared, or was she solely focused on the murder trial set less than two weeks away?

  “Black, right?”

  She’d missed her window. She could still leave, but if she’d really wanted to, she’d be gone already. She reached for the coffee Asher held. “Sure, thanks.”

  Asher handed her the coffee and set a tray on the table. The slice of cake was bigger than her head, but Asher tucked into it like she’d conquered it before. Cade pointed at the plate. “Next time you talk to me about poisoning my body, I’ll remind you of this.”

  “Chocolate is medicinal,” Asher said as she took another bite. “So, are you going to tell me why you called this meeting?”

  Cade took a sip of coffee and used the pause to gather strength. She’d stayed up all night formulating her plan, but now that she was ready to say it out loud, she was certain she’d sound crazy. What the hell? “I want you to tell me everything else you know about the Miller case, and then I want us to go see Brody Nichols.”

  Asher cocked her head. “Last time I started talking about the case, you got all pale and crazy-eyed.”

  Cade was ready with an explanation. “Must’ve been the hamburger. Red meat and murder don’t mix well.”

  “Right.”

  “Truth. Now, will you tell me what you know?”

  “Sure, but first you tell me why you’re so interested.”

  Cade had prepared an answer for this question too. Something vague about research, current events, and library stuff, but when she opened her mouth to answer, instead of the fiction she’d invented for a cover, the truth came tumbling out. “Because Kevin Miller didn’t kill Sam Wade, and I want to make sure the person who did doesn’t get away with it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emily strode into the war room and dumped her files on the table. “Looks like we’re going to trial.”

  “He should’ve taken the deal,” Seth said. “Forty is a gift compared to what a jury will give.”

  “Thirty.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I took pity and offered thirty. I thought he’d at least consider it.”

  Seth’s response was a low whistle. “You’re way nicer than me. He’ll have to take it to his client.”

  “I’m sure he will, but don’t hold your breath.” Emily paced the room, her mind spinning with all the things they still needed to do to get ready for trial. The long list set off a rush of adrenaline that made the thought of spending the rest of the afternoon cooped up in the office inconceivable. “Do you have any witness prep scheduled for the rest of the day?”

  “No, why, what do you have in mind?”

  “Let’s go visit the scene. See if Lance is free so he can come with us,” she said, referring to the lead DA investigator. “I don’t want any of the sheriff’s deputies there. I want to see it fresh, without a play-by-play from Nash’s guys.”

  Seth nodded. “Good idea.” He looked at his watch. “Can you give me about thirty minutes? I need to stop by Elena’s office. The father of the vehicular homicide victim, Ethan Jansen, is coming by today, and I promised I’d stop by to let him know we’re committed to the case and all that. You might want to avoid her office if you don’t want to get caught up.”

  “Thanks. I’ll get involved if you need me to, but I’d like to stay focused on this case for now. I’ll meet you in the parking lot in thirty.” Emily picked up the nearest file and skimmed a few lines, but she forgot what she read faster than she could read it. Determined to clear her head, she opted for a walk around the square while she waited for Seth.

  The weather was perfect for a stroll, the only drawback was how many other people were taking advantage of the warm, sunny day. After a half dozen hellos and good afternoons exchanged with random townspeople, followed by idle conversation about the upcoming murder trial, she wished she’d waited for Seth at the courthouse. She’d almost decided to hide out in her car when she spotted the sign for the Purple Leaf Cafe and immediately thought of the cookies she’d been craving since she’d told Janice to leave them off the lunch order. No reason to deny her cravings now. Determined to satisfy one of her desires, she opened the door and ran into someone standing in the doorway. Before she could catch her breath, strong arms circled her in a protective hold, and she looked up into Cade Kelly’s searching eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Cade asked.

  She wasn’t. Not now anyway. If she’d known her cookie craving would lead to a chance meeting with Cade, she would’ve walked on by. But now that they were face-to-face, she floundered, torn by the concern she saw in Cade’s eyes. She settled on something she hoped was true. “I will be.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Cade’s
voice was soft and low and heavy with portent, and Emily was certain the apology extended beyond their mishap in the doorway. Cade’s hands, still resting on her waist, only reinforced her belief, but before she could respond, Cade pulled back and her arms dropped to her sides. She stepped to the side of the door and Emily followed, but the spell was broken.

  Emily wanted the connection back. “I’m sorry too.”

  “I should’ve called, it’s just…”

  “It’s okay.” Emily wanted desperately to know the reason Cade hadn’t called, but she didn’t want to push. Not here, not now. All she wanted in this moment was to suspend time so the surge of heat from Cade’s touch would linger. “I’ve been busy.”

  “I imagine so.”

  Cade’s voice was sad. Was she the cause? Or was the source of her sadness one of the other secrets Cade had chosen not to share with her? Would she ever know?

  Two weeks had passed without a word, and Emily had written off their brief interlude as a bump in the road on her path to a permanent relationship. But standing here, facing Cade, she knew without a doubt what they’d shared was much more than a detour.

  If only Cade felt the same way. She’d held out hope, but Cade had walked out on her and continued to shut her out—her actions made it clear what they’d shared was casual sex and nothing more. She should turn around and walk out the door because there was nothing for her here. But she couldn’t bring herself to make the break.

  “Are you free right now?” Cade asked.

  For a brief moment, Emily let everything else slip away: the trial, the fact Seth was probably already outside waiting in the car, and the caution she’d wrapped around her heart. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to join Cade at a table in the quaint cafe. She wanted to hold hands, and spend the rest of the afternoon sharing decadent cookies and conversation about topics having nothing to do with murder and politics. Becca’s words about Cade echoed in her head. Good-looking, smart, funny. You sure did perk up when you were around her, and you didn’t seem to be letting work get in your way when she was available.

  And then Emily heard someone else ask the question she’d been about to.

  “Cade, are you ready?”

  Emily turned toward the sound of the voice and saw the twenty-something girl from Jordan College who’d been dogging her for an interview. Asher Risley. Her head swung back to Cade, and she saw her grimace, like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Caught doing what? The words tumbled from Emily’s lips before she could stop them. “Looks like you’re the one who isn’t free.”

  She knew she sounded petty and hostile, but she couldn’t help it. She’d let down her guard again. No amount of heat and desire could make up for the fact Cade didn’t want what she wanted. “I have to go.” Emily forced her voice to sound more resolved than she felt.

  Cade’s hand on her arm was gentle, but insistent. She looked into Cade’s eyes, but she couldn’t get a read on what Cade wanted; she only knew it wasn’t her.

  “Please don’t go,” Cade said.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Asher back away. Emily had no idea what she’d stepped into the middle of, but it didn’t matter. Nothing had changed between them. Her deep and persistent attraction to Cade wasn’t enough to overcome the chasm of secrets that divided them. “It’s not going to work.”

  “We’ve barely even tried.” Cade’s eyes dropped. “I have things I need to tell you.”

  “It might be too late.”

  “It’s never too late.”

  “I wish I believed that.” Emily glanced at the door. Second thoughts threatened to derail her, but she resisted the pull. “I really do have to go.”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  Emily shook her head and stepped to the door. She pushed through to the outside and gulped in the cool air. She wanted to stay, but she needed to go. She wanted Cade to call, but she needed her to stay away if she had any hope of focusing on her work. When this trial was over, maybe…

  She knew exactly how she wanted to finish the thought, but she wasn’t ready to hope.

  *

  Cade watched Emily walk across the street and get into a blue sedan. She recognized the driver as the prosecutor who’d assisted Emily with Kevin Miller’s bond hearing, and she told herself work was the only reason Emily had walked away.

  “Everything okay?” Asher asked.

  “Yes,” Cade lied. Seeing Emily again was a mixed up mess of arousal and pain, and the brief encounter had been too quick, too shallow. She had so much she wanted to tell her, but what was the point if she couldn’t tell her everything? “You ready to go?”

  “Sure,” Asher said, “But I’ve got a question first.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Sinclair’s the one trying this case, right?”

  Cade nodded, certain she knew where Asher was headed.

  “Then why can’t you just tell her your theory?”

  Cade had spent the last half hour giving Asher a rough sketch of her ideas about the Miller case, including a vague reference to other murders with similar MOs, but she had no desire to get into why she didn’t think Emily would be receptive to her insights. Describing the way Emily had already derided her questions about the case would get into other more personal topics, like their brief, now nonexistent relationship. It would be better for everyone if she shared her information with Miller’s attorney and let him do the heavy lifting. She settled on a simple answer to Asher’s question, hoping she wouldn’t persist. “It’s complicated.”

  It took a minute, but Asher’s eyes grew wide, and she nodded her head vigorously. “Oh, okay. I get it. I was totally getting a vibe between the two of you.”

  Damn observant kid. “Are we going or not?” Cade asked in a stern tone, hoping to shut down any further conversation about Emily.

  Asher answered by leading her down the street, in the opposite direction of the courthouse. Cade saw Eric, her bodyguard, cross the street, and then discreetly double back to follow. She hoped Asher wouldn’t notice him, but her worry was wasted since they didn’t go far. Brody Nichols’s office was a two-story Victorian, located a block away on a side street off the main square. Cade followed Asher up the steps to the expansive porch, but she stopped near the rail.

  Asher looked over her shoulder. “Change your mind?”

  Cade held up a hand. “Give me a sec.” Truth was she hadn’t thought this through. If she marched into Nichols’s office and told him she knew who the real killer was, he was going to want proof. All she had to offer was a strong hunch based on her own personal story, a tale she wasn’t ready to disclose, especially not to a total stranger. Cade knew in her gut Leo Fontana had killed Sam Wade, but hunches only mattered to the people that had them. Nichols would want to see some evidence, and he’d be more likely to accept it as credible if he respected the source. She’d have to figure out a way to earn his trust, but she didn’t have much time to do it.

  She tapped into her past. She’d done this before dozens of times. Every time she’d gone to trial, she’d stood in front a jury of complete strangers and asked them to trust the evidence she was about to present, to accept it as truth, and return after their deliberations with a guilty verdict. She’d earned their respect by cutting through the bullshit, and she’d earned their trust by telling them a story using the evidence as highlights and filling in the rest with the most credible theories she could postulate.

  “I’ve got this,” she told Asher. “Whatever happens in there, follow my lead. Okay?” She waited until Asher nodded. “Let’s go.”

  The office wasn’t at all what she expected. Brody Nichols was young, only a year out of law school, but this place was dripping in money. While Asher gave their names to the elderly woman who sat at the front desk, Cade looked around, admiring the massive mahogany desks, built-in bookcases, and beautiful antique rugs—all symbols of success. Since yesterday, she’d searched for everything she could find on the Internet about Brody Nichol
s. She’d learned he was the grandson of a local district judge who’d retired from the bench years ago and was now retired from private practice. Local county records showed Brody owned this building, but more likely than not, he had inherited these offices from his prominent grandfather. He’d probably also inherited the secretary who looked to be in her eighties.

  The thought reminded her of the woman who’d answered the door when she’d shown up at Emily’s house for the first time, Clara. Must be a small town thing—coming into your own, but still saddled with the trappings of your family. Had Emily paid a price for having an influential US senator as a father or had her family’s clout been what propelled her to success?

  That wasn’t fair. Based on her research, Emily had paid her dues. She’d started as an entry-level misdemeanor prosecutor and worked her way up to a felony trial litigator. She had a stellar record, and many members of the local bar had worked hard on her campaign. It probably hadn’t hurt that she was a Sinclair, but it didn’t appear she had traded on her name to garner her win.

  The real question here was how had Brody Nichols, a rookie, been appointed to handle a murder case? Cade was certain his family name had factored into his appointment since he hadn’t been in practice long enough to acquire the kind of experience he’d need to attract a client charged with murder.

  “Mr. Nichols will see you now.”

  The ancient secretary led them down a long hallway. Cade looked around as they walked, but she didn’t spot anyone else working, and the empty desks looked like they’d been empty for a while. When they reached the end of the hall, the woman rapped on the heavy wood and pressed her ear against the door. After a moment, she said “you can go on in,” and she stepped out of the way.

  Cade opened the door and waved Asher in, and then followed close behind. Brody was sitting behind an enormous desk completely covered with a haphazard spread of papers. He looked up and gestured for them to sit in the chairs across from the desk. “Lois said you had some discovery to drop off from the DA’s office. Do you need me to sign for it personally?”