Keith sat up straight. “What are you asking? I mean, yeah, he was down about the surgery and getting sick afterward, but anyone would be. Especially someone like him, who’s used to running nineteen to the dozen all the time.”
“Did he talk about it? Feeling sad?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not. It’s not like he was depressed or anything like that.” His voice rose, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “What does this have to do with anything, anyway? It sounds like a waste of time to me and—” he glanced down at the stainless steel Rolex wrapped around his wrist, “—I don’t have time to blow on nonsense like this.”
She softened her tone in an effort to deescalate his reaction. “Depression can sometimes result in cognitive symptoms, such as difficulties in concentration, memory problems, impaired judgment and problem-solving,” she explained. “The positive aspect is, with treatment, these symptoms can be alleviated. The deficits are only temporary, as they’re not caused by a neurological disorder.” The conclusion remained unstated. If this were the case, there’d be no need for a long-term guardian.
“Dr. Clayton, I get where you’re going now, but my father is a strong man and in our family we support one another. I would’ve known if he was depressed. In fact, I resent this entire line of questioning.” Pointing a finger in her direction, he leaned forward in his chair, closing the distance between them. “I’d heard you were a busybody when you were assigned this case. My friend, Dave Buckman, told me you sided with his wife in their custody case. Did him in good. I tried to request someone else, but it seems you have an in with the judge here.” He shook his head and mumbled under his breath, “Knew something like this would happen if you weren’t removed.”
She was a little taken aback at his quick change in attitude, but she remained calm. “Mr. Lancaster, I can’t discuss any other cases I have or haven’t worked on. However, I can assure you that I conduct a thorough and ethical evaluation. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you with the questions, but the information you’ve given me has been helpful in assessing your father’s current condition. An accurate opinion on his current state and need for a guardian is all I’m providing here.”
Keith stood up and glared down at her. “Well, I think you’re barking up the wrong tree in this case. My father is as far from depressed as you can get. I’d think twice before I’d go putting that kind of thing in a report,” he said. “Now, are we done here?”
“We are.” Jordan got up to walk him out, but he was storming out of her office before she even got to the door. She followed behind and watched him exit without a word to anyone.
Chase was already heading toward her. “Hey, do you have a minute?”
“Sure. Come on in to my office.” Her voice wavered slightly and her heart rate was still beating to eighth notes. She was baffled from the unexpected turn the interview had taken. He’d been reserved and then defensive as the interviewed had progressed, but the underlying anger and resentment had caught her unaware.
As soon as they were behind closed doors, Chase rested his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes reflecting concern.
“Yes.” His apprehension touched her. She squeezed her small hand over one of his large ones and gave him a wan smile. “Did I mention that sometimes this type of work can get pretty emotional?”
The gesture didn’t assuage the worry evident from the deep creases on his face. “What happened? Did he threaten you in any way?” He didn’t release her from his hold but stepped back while he scanned her from head to toe. His gaze settled back to her eyes.
She struggled with how to respond. “Not really. He did mention that I shouldn’t put something in a report. And he was very angry. But he didn’t threaten me directly.”
He gently released her. “It sounds like enough of a confrontation to report to Detective Larson,” he said. “Any potential leads need to be examined so we can track this guy down.”
“But this only happened today—” She stopped herself, Keith’s words echoing in her head.
He hadn’t wanted her on the case. She concentrated in an effort to remember the date she’d been assigned the case. It’d been the week prior to the attack. The timeframe fit. Her chest tightened.
Chase squinted his eyes. “What is it? I can tell you thought of something.”
“You’re right,” she acquiesced. “The petition is public record anyway. I’ll give him a call when I get done today. Right now, I have to get to my next eval.”
“Okay. I’d rather sooner than later though. You don’t finish today until six, and he may be gone by then.”
Jordan almost asked how he knew, but then she remembered that Nancy always gave him a clean copy of her schedule without any client information on it. “Good point. Let me get going here, and I’ll call him while this next client is completing some of the independent testing.” A sinking feeling took root in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t relish the idea of discussing any cases with the detective, even if the information was public record.
“Hey, don’t look so glum,” Chase said, opening the door for her. “This is only temporary.” He rubbed her back as she walked by.
“I know. But this is one of those days where six p.m. can’t come fast enough.” She couldn’t wait to curl up in a pair of PJs and relax tonight. Maybe even uncork one of her better bottles of wine. But until then, she still had one more evaluation and a call to the detective to complete.
“I guess I shouldn’t mention that it’s only Monday?”
She looked over her shoulder to see him raising his eyebrows at her, his expression innocent. She threw a smirk back at him, not fooled for a minute by his chaste appearance. “Don’t even go there. Or my PJ night may involve a continuous stream of Lifetime Movie Specials.”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “That sounds bad. I think I’ll heed your warning.”
“Smart man.” She was now genuinely smiling despite her earlier disappointment. Damn, he’s good.
True to her word, while her client completed the self-assessment portion of the evaluation, she left the testing room to call Detective Larson.
“Detective Larson,” he answered.
“Hello, Detective. This is Jordan Clayton.”
“Hello, Dr. Clayton. What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing else has happened,” she said, grateful that wasn’t the purpose of today’s call. She informed him she’d been assigned to a guardianship case recently. “Though it’s not unusual to have emotions running high in these cases, I did have contact with the petitioner today. He seemed very angry at both my assignment to the case and the questions I asked him. Again, I’m not even sure it’s relevant, and it certainly isn’t unusual, but I wanted to let you know, just as a precaution.”
“Sure. What’s the name?”
She let out a breath. “Keith Lancaster is the petitioner. Alleged incapacitated is Bradley Lancaster.”
A momentary pause followed by a chair squeaking into a new position ensued. “Do you mean Bradley Lancaster as in Lancaster Incorporated?” the detective asked.
Jordan massaged her temples with her fingers as she fought off the tension building in her forehead. High-profile cases were treated like any other at her office, but unlike other cases, name recognition would always be a factor in these. Of all the cases she had right now, this was the only one in which it was guaranteed that the identity would be immediately recognizable. And it was the case she’d had to make the call on. “That’s the one. Do you know him?”
Detective Larson whistled. “Enough to know there’s money involved in that one. Bradley Lancaster is a huge supporter of local law enforcement. Always has been. He’s also well respected. A stand-up guy from what I’ve heard.”
“Well, again, I’m hoping this call was unnecessary.”
“Gotcha, but it’s a good thing you gave me the information. Anything you’ve got can end up being helpful. Don’t hesitate to call if you think of som
ething else, as trivial as it might seem.”
Jordan sighed contently, now curled up in a fleece blanket on the couch. The soft material of her favorite sweatpants just might have been more comfortable than the PJs she’d been dreaming of as the stress of her day had escalated. Chase had suggested they watch a movie and have dinner delivered. It ended up being a perfect idea. After polishing off a pizza with extra cheese, they were settling in to watch the movie they’d agreed on.
“Hey, you’re not going to sleep on me, are you?” Chase said as he threw an accent pillow her way.
She caught it deftly and put it behind her head. “Of course not. The movie hasn’t even started yet.”
Chase was sprawled out in her recliner. He had his feet elevated and appeared most at home. For a fleeting moment, she wished the appearance was a reality. But even though she’d admitted to herself that she was somewhat attracted to him, he’d done nothing to indicate that he harbored any similar feelings. On occasion, she entertained thoughts of flirting a little to see if he might reciprocate. However, despite her feelings toward him, they still had to continue working together. She didn’t want make it awkward between them, particularly when it seemed he wasn’t interested in her in that way and was finally relaxing around her.
“I know the movie is just starting, but you do have a history to consider.” His comment broke her away from her thoughts.
Jordan laughed when she grasped that he was referring to the time he’d had to carry her to bed. The fact that she was such a heavy sleeper had been the subject of a great deal of teasing since then. Before she could come up with a witty retort, the phone rang, interrupting the exchange. She jumped up to grab it, but she tangled herself deeper into her blanket and fell with a thud into a pile on the floor.
Chase was rolling with laughter.
“All right. You can stop laughing now.”
Her comment didn’t even phase him. She couldn’t blame him though. She was having a hard time catching her breath between bouts of laughter and the tight confines of the cover.
“Chase, could you get that for me? I seem to be a little tied up,” she pleaded with him.
“Maybe… What’s it worth to you?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Chase!” She was now struggling to free herself from the wrapper she’d created.
He grabbed the phone. “Hello. Clayton residence.” A brief pause ensued as Chase listened to the caller. He shifted his weight and looked over at Jordan with an unreadable expression.
His silence piqued her curiosity. She’d assumed it was Karen, as she always called around this time, but Chase’s face showed no signs of recognition.
“One moment, sir.” Chase covered the receiver and turned to Jordan, who was finally loose from the entanglement. “It’s your father.”
“Oh, no.” She groaned. So much for it being Karen on the line. What on earth was she going to tell her parents? She sure as heck wasn’t going to tell them the truth. They’d be worried sick. Not to mention they’d immediately want to fly over from Texas.
Realizing she couldn’t put it off any longer, she took the phone from Chase.
He considerately walked out of the room. However, with the minimal insulation in her house, she knew he’d still be able to hear most of the conversation clearly from his bedroom.
“Hey, Dad. How’s everything going?” A distinct echo when she talked signified he had her on the speakerphone.
“Same ol’ stuff here.” His deep Southern drawl was tinged with excitement. “Sounds like your life’s more interesting though. Who’s the young fella who answered the phone?” To her father, anyone under forty was a “young fella.”
“Oh, Dad, he’s just a friend.” Even as she said the words, she knew she didn’t sound one bit convincing. Though her parents were proud of her accomplishments, lately they’d been more vocal in their desire for her to begin a family of her own. She recognized that hearing Chase answer the phone probably gave them false hopes she’d have to remedy.
Her mother chose that moment to chime in. “Darling, he sounded quite handsome. We’ve been hoping you’d meet someone soon. You know, Rose has four grandchildren now! Can you believe it? She’s always showing me their pictures, and I get so excited imagining being in her shoes.”
“Four! Mom, I’m not so sure about having four children,” Jordan said.
“Well, of course not, my dear. You know Rose has two children and you’re our only…but even one would be such a blessing,” she said wistfully.
“Mom, I’m not even married yet. It may be a while. Besides,” she said, realizing this was not where she wanted to go with the conversation. “Like I said, Chase is merely a friend.”
“Of course, honey.” Her mother was not to be dissuaded. “How long have you two been friends?”
“Not too long. I met him through Mike. They were friends in college.” As soon as she said it, she knew it was a mistake. Her mother adored Mike and Karen, and there was no doubt that the idea of Chase as a potential husband had become even more appealing.
“Really? That’s wonderful,” her mother said, warming to the topic. “And what does he do?”
Jordan hadn’t anticipated that one. Oh Lord, how do I answer this one? “Well, he actually owns his own company.”
“Must be nice,” her father said, joining back in. He began telling her of an old friend of their family who’d recently opened up a business.
Letting out a breath, she figured she was safe for the moment. They spoke for a few more minutes about happenings in their small Dallas suburb until her mother halted the conversation.
“Well, we don’t want to keep you too long, seeing as you have company. Do we, Ted?”
“Yeah, right. Maybe we’ll be meeting the young fella sometime soon,” her father managed to get in before her mother hung the phone up.
Jordan stared at the receiver for a second. Despite her intentions, her parents thought she and Chase were dating. Hopefully she could rectify the misconception later on. But by then, she thought ruefully, the news would probably be all over the Lone Star State.
Chase walked in behind her. “You still up for the movie?” he asked, his brows knitted together. From the look on his face, he’d heard at least part of the phone conversation.
“Yes. That was my parents…but I guess you already figured that out.” She felt like she should explain, but she didn’t want to make a huge deal of the comments. “Anyway, they can be a riot sometimes. My mother gets an idea in her head and runs with it. She’s…tenacious.”
“Well, that explains a lot,” Chase said.
“What do you mean?” Jordan stared at him, an eyebrow arched while waiting for a reply.
“I was wondering where you get it from.” The lines around his face became more pronounced and the end of his mouth quirked slightly.
“You’d better watch what you say,” she said, reaching for the pillow he’d thrown at her earlier. “Being tenacious means I won’t give up easily.” She grasped the pillow like she was considering when to throw it back at him, but she was inwardly relieved to change the subject.
“Okay, I surrender.” He held his hands up in jest, making his sculpted biceps project out from the sleeves of the casual T-shirt we wore. His green eyes twinkled mischievously, and her breath caught at the sight of him. “And for the record,” his tone softened, “your tenacity is kind of admirable.”
She examined his face for any indication that he was still playing with her but found none. He looked completely sincere. “Thanks, I think,” she said, her voice husky.
He gave her a wink that released butterflies in her stomach, and then his gaze swung back to the television. “You ready?”
“Sure.” She directed her attention on the screen in front of her and was eventually successful in focusing her thoughts away from the drama that had become her life and back to the fictitious one playing on her television. It was a nice reprieve, and she was almost sorry when it was over. As th
e credits rolled over the screen, she looked over at Chase. A lock of his wavy hair fell into his face as he leaned forward to read something off the screen of his phone.
“I think I’m going to turn in.” She stood up, this time careful to separate herself from the blanket first.
“Night, Jordan.” He pulled his laptop out.
Though she was tired from the stress of the day, she took her time before heading off to bed, straightening the kitchen up and setting the timer on the coffee maker. There was a part of her that couldn’t help but wish Chase would give her an indication that he wanted her to stay.
The glare from the screen in the room reflected on his face. His brow was furrowed, and he had a spreadsheet pulled up. Seeing him already immersed in work, she abandoned the foolish notion and strode toward her bedroom.
In less than half an hour, she was showered and tucked into her bed. She looked up at the ceiling and listened to the whirring of the ceiling fan. The white noise helped lull her to sleep, but it wasn’t working tonight. She flipped over to her other side and readjusted the comforter that lay across her. Taking a deep breath, she tried to concentrate on the rise and fall of her abdomen with no luck.
So much for the relaxation exercise. Her head was cluttered with thoughts she couldn’t seem to escape. Whenever she closed her eyes, images of Bradley and Keith Lancaster faced her, along with the horrible image of the man who’d attacked her.
And then there was Chase. A man who made her laugh when she was on edge, feel strong when she felt anything but, and feel safe just by his mere presence. There was honestly nothing simple about his presence though. Or about him period. Complicated—that was what he was. What the whole situation was. Or was it only complicated for her?
A flickering of florescent-green light caught her attention. Those block numbers glowing on the digital clock indicated that another hour had passed. If she didn’t fall asleep soon, she’d be exhausted in the morning. She started to roll over again, but a faint noise caught her attention. It sounded like someone was scraping something. She listened closely. The noise was coming from outside. She looked toward the window, and that was when she saw him. Silhouetted against the night sky was the figure of a man gripping something in his raised right hand.
Expert Witness: A Romantic Suspense Novel Page 10
