THE PROSECUTOR

by Adrienne Giordano

  Emma stood, wrapped Penny in a hug. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I hate this for you.”

  Looking over Penny’s shoulder, Emma spotted Zac talking with one of the firefighters. She still didn’t truly understand why he was here, but at the moment, despite the emotional bloodbath unleashed on her, she should at least talk to him. “I need to speak to your brother.”

  Penny backed away and eyeballed her. “I could slap the two of you. I told you not to sleep with him.”

  A blast of horror snaked up Emma’s throat. How embarrassing that Penny had figured out they’d, as Brian would say, done the nasty. Emma snorted. Even from prison, her brother made her laugh.

  Exhaustion. It had to be exhaustion.

  Penny jerked her head. “Talk to him. I don’t want to hear about it. Not one thing.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She wandered over to Zac, slowing as she got closer. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure her presence would be welcome. Not after her little psycho-meltdown in the street. His gaze shifted from the firefighter for a second and—oh, what a guy—he held his hand to her.

  All she had to do was take it. Simple gesture. Sure they had issues to deal with, but if she chose to reject and embarrass him by not accepting the comfort he offered, they were as good as done. Like any man, Zac had his pride and she couldn’t disrespect him. Not after all he’d done for them. Still, she was far from ready to pick up where they were before their fight.

  If she couldn’t trust him to support her, there was no point in allowing the relationship to continue. And he’d made it clear that his job was his priority.

  The firefighter shifted to the side and nodded. Zac’s hand still hung in midair. Grab it. No. Don’t embarrass him.

  She reached for his hand and held it. No squeeze, no caressing fingers, no indication of anything. Brutal compromise. The loose hold he had on her indicated his understanding.

  Yeah, we’ve got some work to do.

  “This is Emma Sinclair.”

  “Sorry about this,” the firefighter said. “We’ll be out of here soon.”

  The man left and Zac faced her, his fingers still linked with hers, barely hanging on.

  “Penny told you about the apartment?”

  Emma looked into his spectacular blue eyes, which always settled her. “Yes. She’s amazing.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  He smiled, though, and a piece of Emma’s broken heart sheared off. Truth was she didn’t know how to love the man prosecuting her brother’s case. “I’m sorry we had a fight,” she said.

  “Me, too. I didn’t like that. At all.”

  “I don’t know how to do this, Zac.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “Penny was right. We have no business being in a personal relationship right now.” She waved toward the house. “And after this...all my evidence...” Her voice hitched and she breathed in. You can do this. “I have no idea what will happen with Brian’s case.”

  “There are some copies left.”

  “Not enough, Zac.”

  “I told Tom Carson to see where the Leeks kid was this afternoon. And Alex Belson.”

  After her house almost burned to the ground, he finally believed her. Still, he’d gotten there. Not that anything could change between them. “Thank you. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you, but thank you.”

  “I want to support you, Emma. This thing is moving fast. I need a second to catch up. Form a plan. You’re good at shifting on the fly. I need to process. Collect proof to back up my gut reactions.”

  “I shouldn’t have hit you with the Alex thing and expected you to do something right then. I didn’t think it through, but that’s me. That’s how I operate and I can’t change that. If you weren’t the prosecutor on our case, it wouldn’t be an issue. I can’t get around that. And, if Brian’s petition is denied, he’ll stay in prison. You’ll be the one who kept him there. How would a relationship between us survive that?”

  “Emma—”

  She stepped back. “I know myself. At some point, I’ll look at you and wonder if you could have done more. It wouldn’t be fair, but I’d do it.”

  He nodded. Maybe he understood. God knew she didn’t. “I’m sorry, Zac. It’s over.”

  * * *

  LONG AFTER PENNY installed Emma and her mother in their temporary digs, Zac stood on the sidewalk waiting for the arson investigator to come outside. Maybe he could give Zac the 411 on whether his findings were heading in the direction of arson.

  Plus, Zac was in no hurry to be anywhere in particular. Not after Emma gave him the dropkick. All he’d wanted was for them to lie low until Brian’s case got settled. Apparently, she had a different idea.

  He propped an arm on a low tree branch and tapped his fingers against it. He couldn’t think too hard about Emma. Wallowing in misery wasn’t his style, but this feeling of each breath being trapped inside a crushed torso did nothing for his state of mind.

  Better to focus on the Sinclair home and the implications it might have. In his gut, Zac had no doubt that someone had intentionally done this. No doubt whatsoever. Call it intuition or plain common sense, but he knew.

  His phone rang. Ray. This would be a problem, considering that Zac was supposed to be in court and had asked his co-prosecutor on the trial to cover for him.

  He clicked the answer button before it went to voice mail. “Hey, Ray.”

  “Where the hell are you?” his boss thundered.

  “I’m at the Sinclair place. Someone torched it.”

  “Did you forget we’re in the middle of jury selection?”

  “I talked to Diane. It was a short day today. I figured she could handle it while I waited on the arson investigator.”

  “He’ll send you a report.”

  “He’s finishing up. Maybe he’ll give me something.”

  “I don’t know what you’re doing. You’re killing your career.”

  Ah, damn. There’s always the private sector. He’d hate that, though. He thrived on being a trial lawyer and somehow he didn’t see himself making the leap from prosecution to defense. Plenty of attorneys did, but he wasn’t sure it was for him. Civil law might be an option. Another thing he couldn’t think about now. “You told me to figure it out. Not my fault it isn’t the direction you wanted.”

  “I’m about to pull you from this case.”

  Not a chance. But he’d stay calm. No yelling. “I’m making progress here. However this plays out, we can spin it so it works for Helen Jergins. If Sinclair is guilty, we’ll prove it once and for all. If he’s innocent, she’s freed a wrongfully convicted man. Either way, it’s good.”

  “You’d better hope it’s good or you’ll have bigger problems than just being pulled off this case.”

  A slam came from the other end. Ooosh.

  Zac pulled the phone from his ear. Stared at it a minute. His boss had just threatened his job. Seriously? Seriously?

  If doing the right thing got him this garbage, why bother? He’d never considered himself an idealist when it came to politics and he knew there were times political maneuvering dictated the outcome of a case, but he’d never been pushed face-first into it.

  Emma had been fighting this wall of opposition for too long. Day after day of roadblocks. Of people telling her no and expecting her to accept it. Hell, he’d been one of them.

  For him, it had been a week and he’d already hit overload. No wonder she’d flipped over his need for proof about Alex.

  The arson investigator, Dick Jones, walked out of the house. Zac had introduced himself earlier and had told the man he’d be waiting.

  “I can’t give you anything official,” the inspector said.

  “I know. This is off the record, so
to speak. Goes nowhere outside of this conversation.”

  Dick nodded. “Heavy charring in the basement and on the first floor. Also charring and smoke stain on the ceiling toward the back.”

  “Origin?”

  “Looks like the basement floor. The stairs leading to the first floor were burned through. Based on the condition of the floor and the pattern of the burn, I’d say it’s arson.”

  Emma was right. “You’ll be finished when?”

  “Tomorrow. I’ll write up my report as soon as we wrap up here.”

  Zac glanced up at the house. “Can anything be salvaged?”

  “Maybe some clothes. Stuff from the second floor, but it all needs cleaning. A real mess.”

  This guy had no idea. “Thanks. I appreciate the info.”

  “No problem. Don’t jump the gun on me.”

  Zac shook his head. “No. We’re good.” His phone rang and he checked it. Tom Carson. “I gotta take this. Thanks again.”

  He headed to his car at the end of the block. Almost four o’clock and he was still here. No wonder Ray was pissed.

  “Hey, Tom.”

  “Leeks Senior was in court testifying this afternoon. The kid was at work today. Apparently he’s a personal trainer and had clients until two.”

  Eh, there went that idea. Even if Junior didn’t set the fire, he could still be involved. And his father couldn’t be ruled out, either.

  “Where this gets interesting,” Tom said, “is Alex Belson.”

  Zac stopped walking and a car flew by him, the driver honking the horn and nearly giving Zac an explosive bowel movement. “Take it easy!”

  People.

  “You okay?” Tom asked.

  “Yeah. Alex Belson?”

  “He left court around eleven.”

  Which was right around the time he showed up at Zac’s office. “He came to see me.”

  “Oh.” Tom paused. Probably making a note. “How long was he with you?”

  “Less than ten minutes. He walked out of my office then ran into Emma Sinclair. Couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes total he was in our office. Where did he go after that?”

  “That’s what’s interesting. He called his office, probably when he left you and told them he was on lunch.”

  “Return time?”

  “One-thirty.”

  Come again? Zac stood frozen. A two-and-a-half hour lunch.

  “And before you ask, yes, I double-checked it. I have two people who confirmed it. Plus, he swiped his key card when he entered the office. The guard verified it.”

  He reached his car and leaned against the hood. “Any idea where he went to lunch?”

  “None.”

  “Okay. How about his address?”

  “I’ve got it.”

  Jumping into the car, Zac grabbed his notepad from the glove compartment. “Go.”

  “If I give this to you, are you gonna do anything stupid?”

  “No.”

  “Zac?”

  “Tom, I promise you. Nothing stupid. I’ll have my sister put an investigator on him. See if he’s up to anything. I don’t want the SA’s office behind it. That’s all.”

  And I want to make sure he doesn’t go near Emma. Zac didn’t want to believe this guy was capable of attacking Emma or setting this fire, but he wouldn’t take a chance. He shook his head, hoping some form of understanding over this screwed-up scenario would flash into his mind.

  No luck. Tom rattled off the address.

  “Do I want to ask what Brian Sinclair’s former public defender might have to do with the fire at the Sinclairs’?”

  Zac dropped the notepad and sat back in his seat. “I wish I knew, Tom. I wish I knew.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emma walked out of the restaurant’s kitchen, untied her apron and shoved it into her tote bag. Her feet did the normal protest and she eyed one of the barstools. If she sat down, though, she wouldn’t get up. She’d crash right there and let the stress of the day seep from her body. She’d known plenty of exhaustion in her life, but this heaviness, which slowed her steps and made her dream of sleeping for a month, had kicked her to another level of tired.

  Days didn’t get any longer than the one she’d just had. Part of her had considered calling off work, but sitting around a strange apartment—no matter how stunning it was—thinking about her decimated home and her broken heart, courtesy of Zachary Hennings, wouldn’t fix her problems. Plus, they’d need extra money for whatever deductibles the insurance company would hit them with.

  The hostess locked the front door while they closed up. No Zac tonight. That’s what happened when a relationship ended. All those comforting moments, like him showing up to see her home, went away and left that monstrous black sinkhole inside waiting for her to slide in and get smothered.

  Not going to happen.

  She’d long ago given up on happily ever after. The way her life went, if she found someone to share a happily-ever-after life with, they’d wind up getting run over by a bus. At least they’d die together. For some reason, she found that thought vaguely amusing and quietly laughed.

  So morbid, Emma. And so unlike her. As much as people teased her about her willingness to persevere, she’d take it over this nonsense any day. What good would sitting here boo-hooing do? She needed rest and a good dose of Warrior Emma. At least that Emma knew how to move ahead.

  “No guy tonight?” the hostess asked.

  “No,” Emma said, the word oozing from her mouth. “Emilio said he’d walk me to my car. He’s finishing up in the kitchen.”

  Hoping to avoid further questions from the nosy hostess, Emma turned, faced the front window and—wham—her heart exploded, one giant blast of energy that made her arms tingle. On the other side of the glass, in the misty, freezing rain, Zac stood bundled in a coat and ski hat.

  He’s here. Emma leaped off the stool, buttoned her jacket and rushed to the door while the hostess flipped the lock.

  “I thought you were waiting for Emilio.”

  “Um, no. Tell him thanks, though. Zac is here.”

  She scooted out before the litany of busybody questions came. Moist air smacked her cheeks and cars whooshed by, their tires kicking up water from the rainy evening. Emma pulled her hood up. “Hi.”

  “Hi back.”

  “You came.”

  A half smile quirked his lips. “Just because you dumped me doesn’t mean I can’t make sure you get home.”

  She dumped him. For good reason. At least she thought. What am I doing?

  Something in her throat squeezed and her eyes throbbed. No tears. She swallowed once, warring with herself to keep it together. “I’m so confused and miserable. I don’t know what to do.”

  He skimmed his finger over the curve of her cheek to her jaw and that light touch, so gentle and comforting, sent her into another battle with self-doubt. How could she let him go?

  “Me, too,” he said. “But it’s been a lousy day and talking about it now won’t help.”

  “You’re always so logical.”

  “It’s what I do.” He jerked his chin toward the street. “Where are you parked?”

  “Two blocks down. I got to work late and had to park in the garage.”

  “Let’s get you there then. The roads are horrible. Freezing rain iced everything over. Drive slow tonight.”

  They walked in silence, the swish of tires against pavement providing a diversion to the destruction lying heavy between them. For once, they had nothing to say. How incredibly sad for both of them.

  In the near distance, the parking garage loomed and Emma slowed. Pathetic? Yes. But she didn’t want this time with him to end. If Brian didn’t win a reversal, there’d be no future with Zac and it w
ould be best if she just let him go now. Save herself the pain later. How sad that her life had become a study in saving herself pain.

  At the corner, they waited for the walk sign to flash. A few cars idled at the red light, but all in all, a quiet night. The light changed and Zac stepped off the curb. On the cross street, a driver gunned the gas to make a left, spotted Zac in the street and slammed on his brakes. The car slid as if greased.

  No.

  Tires squealed from the opposite direction and Emma grabbed Zac’s coat, hauling him backward as a speeding car barreled into the car making the left. An enormous crash of metal and shattering glass erupted and then, in seconds there was nothing but silence. Harsh, ugly silence.

  Only feet in front of them was the wreckage of a destroyed vehicle, the windshield of the speeding car had blown out and a passenger lay draped across the dash into the open space where glass had been. No seat belt. Whether the person was male or female, Emma couldn’t tell. Too much blood. Awful, soaking amounts of blood.

  Zac tore into the fray and Emma dug in her purse for her cell phone. 9-1-1. Other drivers swarmed the scene, checking on victims while Emma was informed that an ambulance was en route.

  She clicked off and felt a poke near her side.

  “Say one word and this knife goes through you. I’ll gut you right on this street.”

  Knife.

  In front of her, neon red bounced off the building across the street and a police cruiser came to a stop just feet away. Scream. Emma opened her mouth.

  “Not a word,” the man repeated and his voice.

  It’s him.

  “Move,” Alex Belson said. “Toward the garage. After following you for days, I almost gave up when I saw Zac. I got a bonus with that accident.”

  He tugged the back of her coat and she drove her feet into the ground. The pressure of that knife on her back increased. “I got nothing to lose by killing you right here. And when I’m done with you, I visit your mother.”

  Emma started walking. At most, she had two minutes until they reached the garage. If they got there, she was dead. This she knew. Never let them take you to a second location. Wasn’t that what all the safety experts always said?