by Virna DePaul
Dom reached for the judge’s file next. Judge Butler appeared to have a sterling reputation. Too clean, in fact. Without a hint of a single skeleton, it made Dom instantly suspicious. It also made him wonder if he used his staff to hide the bones that had to exist somewhere.
“All right, I’ve got them. What do you know?”
“I’ve looked over the Guapo file and the file on Judge Butler. I know you’re friends with the judge and you believe he might be in danger.” What he didn’t reveal was Joel’s suspicion that Judge Butler might be dirty. And he wouldn’t reveal it. Not to anyone. Not until he found out whether it was true or not.
“Then let’s go over the judge’s staff files. There’s the judge’s clerk, Brenda Florentine. A law school intern. And his regular court reporter.”
Dom took the files and opened up the first one. Brenda Florentine’s picture was the first thing he saw. She was sexy in an overt way with a slight hardness in her eyes that immediately told Dom she was both experienced and probably street savvy. “What about the court reporter? Was she present during Guapo’s trial?”
“Not sure, but does it matter? The defense attorney I can understand. Even the judge. But you don’t think Guapo would go after the court reporter, do you?”
Dom opened the next file, and stared at the picture of a youthful blonde. She was definitely no more than early twenties. “If he’s responsible for the defense attorney and Joel, why not?” Flipping the picture over, he read her security documents and confirmed she was the law student.
“Is that what this is about, Dom? Pinning Joel’s murder on Guapo? The drugs—”
“Were planted. No way was Joel on the take. I know it. So do you, sir. That’s why you made him sergeant.”
“I’m hoping you’re right, Dom. I’m sure hoping. Now, about the court reporter. She seems to have the closest relationship with the judge. She—”
Joel opened the final folder.
And felt the breath literally slam out of his body.
Stunned, he stared at the picture of a woman with corkscrew curls and big doe eyes, the same woman whose image had flashed in his mind when Cam had still been here. He felt an immediate tightening in his gut and lower. He knew it couldn’t be true, but then again he’d already established he wasn’t dreaming.
Apparently, however, his nightmare had just gotten worse. He’d just lost his best friend and now—
It was Mattie. His Mattie. The girl he’d loved and lost in college.
Correction. The girl he’d driven away in college.
She still had the pale complexion and cupid-bow lips that looked like they’d been injected with filler. Just as he had the first time he’d seen her on campus, she managed to come across as part milkmaid and part bachelor party stripper.
His Mattie, the woman who’d painted and sculpted and written poetry, had become a court reporter? It was a safe, practical job, he realized. Proving that, in the end, those things were more important to her than passion. That he’d been right to break things off with her when he had.
Acutely aware that the lieutenant had stopped talking on the other line, Joel forced himself to speak. “What about the court’s regular bailiff?” he asked, even as he flipped through the pages of Mattie’s file.
“Cleared and on leave for a month.”
Dom barely heard what the lieutenant was saying as he read Mattie’s employment application.
Mathilda Nolan. Thirty-two. Assigned as Judge Butler’s court reporter over three years ago, after she’d put in several years in the general pool. The box next to “Marital Status” had been left blank, with neither “Single” or “Married” checked. However, her health benefits form listed one dependent—Jordan Nolan. Daughter. No husband, but maybe he simply carried his own insurance.
“Dom? Dom!”
Dom jerked and shook his head to clear it. “I’m sorry. What did you ask, Lieutenant?”
“I asked if you’re sure you’re up for this assignment. Despite—?”
Despite Joel’s death. Despite the fact he’d just found out about it. But what else was he going to do? Listen to people talk of suicide and corruption in the same breath as they talked about his friend? No way. “I’m taking it.”
“You’re not a machine, Dom,” the lieutenant said softly. “Don’t you ever get tired of it? Want something more?”
It was the same question Joel had asked him the night before. And unlike the lieutenant, Dom knew Joel hadn’t been talking in generalities. Joel had wanted something specific for him—something like he’d found with Tawny.
Last night, Dom had forced a smile to his lips. For a moment, he’d opened himself up to a fantasy of him and Mattie, married since college graduation. The fantasy wouldn’t form. “I’m happy you found more with Tawny, Joel. Honest. But don’t fool yourself. That kind of thing isn’t for most cops. And it’s certainly not for me.”
“What thing?” Joel had countered. “Love?”
“And all the things that come with it. Confinement. Restriction.” Causing the woman who loved you to worry that you wouldn’t come back. When there was the real possibility that you wouldn’t. “It works for you, that’s great. But I’m not fit for management. I belong on the streets and in the action.”
Whether it’s where I want to be anymore or not, Dom thought.
When he finally answered the lieutenant, Dom closed his eyes but forced his voice to remain strong. “I just want to finish the last assignment Joel gave me, Lieutenant. Please…just let me do that.”
“Okay, Jeffries. Make sure Judge Butler’s courtroom is secure and keep me informed. Then you’re taking some time off, whether you want to or not.”
Dom hung up without arguing.
He no longer doubted he’d see action on this assignment. With Joel’s murder and its apparent connection to Guapo, chances were high Judge Butler and his staff would soon be next. He’d make sure Judge Butler’s courtroom was secure, but more important, he’d complete three tasks.
Find his friend’s murderer.
Make sure the person regretted every second he’d taken of Joel’s life.
And…
He picked up Mattie’s file and stared at the woman he’d loved and still thought of nearly every day of his life.
He hadn’t been able to keep Joel safe, but he was going to damn well make sure Mattie stayed that way. To do so, he’d kill Guapo himself if he had to.
Chapter 2
The following Monday
After surviving a surprise pregnancy, the death of a husband, and a brother with a drug problem, Mattie had thought she was shockproof against the whims of Fate; then she walked into Judge Butler’s courtroom and saw Dominic. Fate obviously had a twisted sense of humor.
Despite the ten years that had filled out his face and frame, she knew him instantly. When he turned from shaking Brenda’s hand and saw her, however, she couldn’t say the same for him.
His blue eyes, identical to the pair she saw every morning and every night, were still the same shade of turquoise that made her think of white sand and warm island breezes. His face, however, betrayed neither memory nor guilt.
Disbelief overrode the joy that had ignited upon seeing him.
He didn’t remember her.
Could that be? Her daughter, Dominic’s daughter, was nine years old. When she looked at her daughter, when she saw Dominic in her eyes, in her lanky frame, and in her mischievous wit, she tortured herself with “what ifs.” What if Dominic had known about her? What if she’d fought harder to be with him?
Not once had “What if he didn’t remember her?” entered the equation.
Obviously, it should have.
“Mattie!” Judge Butler exclaimed. “I was just introducing our new deputy to everyone. Come on over and say hello.”
It wasn’t as if his tan sheriff’s uniform—so he’d fulfilled his dream of becoming a cop, after all—hadn’t warned her, but she still felt her knees tremble. Dom was to be their substitute ba
iliff?
Even after hearing her first name, his face remained blank and emotionless. Anger loosened inside her, simmering and volatile, ready to explode at the least provocation. No, she wasn’t as thin as she’d once been. Her hair was pulled back from her face, and years of worry and grief had lined her face in places that had once been smooth. But for him not to remember her? The tiny piece of her heart that had remained hollow all these years, yearning for him and the family they could have been, seemed to fill with lead. Instead of making her feel whole, the sudden heavy weight threatened to rip her heart out of her chest.
Turn around, she told herself. Walk away and don’t come back. But that type of behavior would simply call attention to herself, and make him notice her and ask questions. Forcing herself to remain calm, she moved forward. She stopped within a few feet of him, once more blasted by memories she couldn’t ignore. Flummoxed, she felt the pull toward him and desperately held out her hand as if it could shield her. “Welcome.” Her tone implied otherwise. “I’m Mattie Nolan.”
His warm hand engulfed hers, gave a short squeeze, then dropped it. “Nice to meet you,” he said before turning away.
She stared at him. The anger simmering inside her flashed hot and violent. Nice to meet you?
They’d dated for two months before he’d unceremoniously dumped her and she got a “nice to meet you?” She’d been right not to tell him about the pregnancy, she thought bitterly. If he could forget her so easily, he didn’t deserve someone as precious as Jordan.
He spoke to one of the courthouse’s other bailiffs. Helpless not to, she took him in. The boy she remembered was completely gone. As rough as he’d been then, he might as well have been carved out of granite now. Despite the blond hair and blue eyes that should have given him the appearance of a surfer dude rather than a badass, he’d compensated with sheer bulk and attitude. He gave off a solemn “don’t mess with me” vibe that would suit his position in the courtroom well.
The thought spurred her to walk swiftly out of the courtroom and into the back offices.
She was supposed to work with this man? The same man who’d tossed her aside, leaving her alone to discover she was pregnant with his child?
She shoved her purse into the small cabinet in the break room, then collapsed into a chair.
Be fair, a voice countered. He hadn’t known about the baby when he’d left her.
It wouldn’t have made a difference, she snapped back. The hot sting of tears nipped at her eyes and she fanned them.
Don’t cry for that man, she ordered herself.
She and Jordan were fine. Better than fine.
Still…she couldn’t help remembering the conversation she and Jordan had last night. The same conversation they had in one form or another at least once a week. The conversation about her wanting a father.
Last night, however, Jordan hadn’t even tried to be subtle. She’d cut to the chase with one blunt statement.
“I miss having a dad.”
The softly spoken words had come from the other room and caused Mattie’s heart to lodge in her throat. Closing her eyes, she’d taken a deep breath and set aside the pen she’d been using to pay bills.
Although she waited, Jordan didn’t speak again. Slowly, Mattie braced her palms against the kitchen table, pushed herself up, and walked into the living room.
Her nine-year-old daughter was sprawled on the couch, her small legs propped on the back and her head hanging off the edge of the seat cushions. “Tough day at school?” she asked.
Jordan turned her head to look at her. “Christy Means brought her dad in for show and tell. He wore a suit. And they went out for ice cream afterwards.”
“Hmm.” Mattie nodded, trying to figure out which of those three things required having a father the most. “I can come in for show and tell, sweetie. And we can definitely go for ice cream after. I’m not sure I’m up for wearing a suit and tie though.” Sitting beside her daughter, she waggled her eyebrows.
Jordan giggled and flipped around until she was sitting upright. Apparently, however, she wasn’t through. “It’s not the same though. We can’t toss a football. You don’t know how. Or climb a mountain. You’d be too scared.”
“You want to do those things?” The thought of Jordan losing her footing and tumbling down a mountain made her stomach queasy. The last time she’d checked, Jordan still played with Barbies.
Jordan picked at a nail. “Sometimes I want to. But I can’t. ’Cause my dad’s in Heaven.” Standing, she walked toward the framed picture of John Nolan, who’d died when she was five. Picking it up, she stared at it. “Sometimes I wish I had two dads. That way, one could watch me from Heaven and one could still be here with me.” She glanced at Mattie, who swiftly inhaled.
Because at that moment, Jordan looked so much like her father—her real father—it made her want to weep.
Maybe sensing her mood, Jordan put down the picture frame and threw herself into Mattie’s arms. They hugged until Mattie pulled away and smoothed Jordan’s hair from her face. “We can learn to throw a football and climb a mountain together, okay?”
Jordan nodded. “And go kayaking?” she asked.
Before Mattie could say more, the doorbell rang and Jordan’s best friend, Lisa, asked her to play. With a swift kiss to Mattie’s cheek and a promise to stay out of the street, Jordan was gone.
Now, after seeing the blankness is Dom’s eyes, Mattie told herself that she and Jordan didn’t need Dom or anyone else to be happy. Not to throw a football. Not to climb a mountain. And not for anything else either.
Retrieving her purse, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed the number of her friend, Linda Delaney. “I’ve decided to find a man,” she announced when Linda picked up.
Linda snorted. “And what’s brought on this sudden decision? Jordan bugging you for a father again?”
“You know, I miss having a man around the house, too. Someone to share the chores with. To bring in some extra money. To—”
“—have wild monkey sex with?” Linda drawled.
“Oh please,” Mattie said, even as her head filled with memories again.
She’d enjoyed sex with John but she hadn’t loved it. Not the way she’d loved it with Dom. Sometimes, when sleep lowered her defenses and let him inside, she still dreamed about it.
The way his muscles had bunched when he’d braced himself over her.
The smell of his skin. His taste. The feel of him inside her. Stretching her.
Becoming one with her.
And the way he’d hold her and talk to her afterwards. As if she was precious to him.
As if there was no place on earth he’d rather be than with her.
Wild monkey sex, indeed. She’d had it once, and more, and what had it gotten her in the end?
Jordan, she reminded herself. It had gotten her Jordan. And that was all that mattered.
“…my friend I was telling you about. He’s handsome. Smart. Kind to kids. I’m telling you, he could be the answer to what you and Jordan both need, Mattie. So what do you say?”
Mattie shook her head, determined to push the past back where it belonged. “I’m sorry, Linda. Who are you talking about?”
“Ty Martinez. The new deputy D.A. in our office. The one who asked about you. Can I give him a green light to call you?”
Mattie swallowed, recalling the times she’d seen Ty Martinez in court.
He was attractive. Confident without being cocky. And sometimes Mattie caught him looking at her with a slight smile on his face.
And still he did nothing for her.
What was she? Frozen from the neck down?
All the better to protect your heart with, a voice inside her whispered.
“Mattie?”
Taking a deep breath, she spoke in a rush. “Yes. Tell your friend I’m interested, Linda.”
Linda whooped and carried on so long that Mattie actually laughed. When they hung up, Mattie grabbed a pen and opened several drawers unt
il she found a phone book. She flipped pages until she found the right one, then circled one listing, then another.
Annoyed that her hands were trembling, she dialed the first number anyway.
“Midtown Rock-n-Roll Gym,” a deep voice answered.
She swallowed hard, then forced the words. “Hi, I’d like to take a climbing lesson for beginners.”
“Great. When do you want to start?”
She glanced at the clock. “How about this afternoon?”
Only years of practice enabled Dominic to keep talking as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His insides, however, were clenched so tight that the dull ache that sometimes plagued him was threatening to burn him from the inside out.
I shook her hand, he thought. All this time, and she felt and smelled exactly the same.
She also still revealed her emotions through her eyes.
When she’d thought he didn’t remember her, something he’d deliberately fostered, she’d been pissed. But mainly she’d been hurt. And despite all the arguments he’d had with himself about keeping the past where it belonged, he’d almost caved.
With his mouth opening to do just that, he’d had no choice but to turn away, knowing that would hurt her pride even more. It was a testament to her low opinion of him, and probably men in general, that she could actually believe he’d forgotten her.
Within twenty minutes of meeting her, Brenda Florentine had already filled him in on the courtroom gossip. She’d seemed particularly focused on Mattie, and had told Dom how Mattie’s husband had died young, leaving her alone with a daughter to raise, so busy that she didn’t even have time to date. Even without that information, he would have known instantly that Mattie’s life hadn’t been an easy one.
