Roulette
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Roulette
Cover Photography by Eric Battershell
Cover Model: Johnny Kane
Cover Design and Interior Formatting by Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs
2017 C.D. Bradley. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author or publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and other noncommercial uses as permitted by copyright law.
OLIVIA SAT AT her large mahogany desk thumbing through the file before her. A shiver ran down her spine. She couldn’t put her finger on it but something about this case chilled her. She checked the clock, two fifteen, and shook her head. Her witness was late, again. She wanted to help the woman, but if she missed another appointment, they were going to have to drop her plea bargain. Silently she cursed. Gwen Robertson’s haunting brown eyes and thin face moved her. Their last meeting, two weeks ago, still hung with Olivia. The quiet way she moved reminded her of . . .
“Stop it,” she said to the still air of the office. You can’t bring her back. She reminded herself. Even if you help every lost soul that crosses your desk it won’t bring her back. If she could get Gwen to talk she could help her. Her job was to find the truth and pursue justice, especially for those who couldn’t speak for themselves.
Olivia Hastings hated to back down from anything and her track record proved it. She had clawed her way to the top of her class at Yale and while all of her colleagues were clamoring for big dollar firms, she set her sights on becoming a prosecuting attorney. At thirty-one Olivia had already made a name for herself working for the District Attorney of Norfolk, VA. Early mornings, late nights, and every last shred of her twenties, Olivia had poured into this job. But it wasn’t just a job. She looked down at the tarnished silver frame on her desk. A set of freckled faced girls smiled back at her, their matching eyes bright with hope and joy, so innocent. Pitty. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. You can’t bring her back. No, this wasn’t just a job, this was her life.
She glanced through the vertical blinds out the large windows of the sixth floor down to the street below, hoping to see her witness hustling in. People in business attire moved in and out of the building. A straggly man in worn clothes stood holding up part of the concrete wall and lit a cigarette. The public defender appeared to be trying to keep the wayward man’s attention. She snarled. Her natural instinct was guilty until proven innocent. She loved the law and bringing justice where it was due had become her singular passion. She took one last look at the woman’s battered face and closed the file. She would call and give her another chance. She couldn’t give up on her today.
“Miss Hastings, I have your mail,” Margaret called from just outside her office door as she bustled into the room. “Oh and Mr. Trudeau is on his way up.”
Olivia stiffened at the mention of his name. Vincent Trudeau. They had gone to law school together but while she had pursued a career in public service, he was making his way toward partner in a flashy firm across town. He made his fortune defending the kind of scum she was determined to put behind bars. If he thought he was just going to waltz in here in his Armani suit and weasel his client out of the charges, he was seriously smoking crack. Silently, she gave herself a pat on the back for giving up her lunch. It was a small price to pay for the chance to be prepared for this. She put her notes and the case files back in the folder and laid it neatly on the edge of her immaculate desk.
Margaret waddled her way over to the desk carrying a large white mail basket and plopped it down with a thud.
“Is that all for me?” Olivia sat open mouthed. Her perfectly neat desk was now littered with envelopes that spilled from the massive inbox. “What is all this?”
“Mr. Davis said that you were taking over the Hardman case. Your mail is in there too,” Margaret offered with a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, honey.”
Olivia sighed, “No I got it.” She pulled the basket close and began to riffle through it. Her witness was a no show anyway. She stood over the tote and began to sort the envelopes.
“Olivia,” Vincent cooed from the doorway. “Wow you look knee deep in a pile of shit! I would say congrats on your promotion, but maybe I should say I’m sorry instead. You know you wouldn’t have to deal with all of that if you came to work for us.” He flashed the ten-million-dollar smile in her direction. His eyes scanned her government issue office. He raised one eyebrow in disapproval as he looked around the small space. The beige walls and commercial grade green carpet sealed the deal.
She resisted rolling her eyes. “Just doing some research.” She would not give him the satisfaction. Olivia knew what she was doing was more important than office furnishings and partnership benefits.
“Looks like you have a lot on your plate. Tell you what, drop the Lafferty case and give yourself a little break. We both know your evidence is circumstantial at best,” he offered, crossing the room to stand beside her desk.
Olivia stood open mouthed for a minute. She had just gotten that case this morning. Damn he moved quick. “Nice try. If you didn’t spend so much time trying to shovel the shit back out on the sidewalk we wouldn’t be so busy.” Olivia nearly spat, and raised her sculpted eyebrow.
“Aw, don’t pout baby, even the devil’s gotta dance sometime. Think of it as job security.” A satisfied shit eating grin spread across his chiseled face. “I’ve missed ruffling your feathers. I’m glad they’re finally gonna let you play with the big boys.”
“I’m not here to play Vincent. I don’t know how you do it. Day in and day out, you work your ass off to get pure evil set free.” Olivia shook her head. His track record for using technicalities and breaking a witness to get charges dropped was legendary.
“You just have to be willing to explore someone’s weaknesses and not be afraid to use it. Everyone has a breaking point, Ms. Hastings. Everyone.” He stepped closer so that she could feel the heat from his body radiating to hers.
Olivia gritted her teeth and looked him in the eyes. “There is more than one kind of monster, Vincent. I’m not afraid of them, and I’m not afraid of you,” she countered, but did not back up. She could feel his hot breath on her forehead.
“Olivia, I’m glad you’re here,” Mr. Davis announced as he walked in the room. His voice cut the tension that hung thick in the air. “Have you had a chance to look at the attempted murder they sent over this morning?” He paused seeing Vincent. “Oh. I didn’t realize y
ou had company. Mr. Trudeau what brings you here?” Davis’ eyes narrowed to slits.
“We were just discussing my client Miles Lafferty,” Vincent piped up and stepped back to face Mr. Davis before Olivia could even open her mouth. “I dropped by to congratulate Ms. Hastings on her promotion and couldn’t help overhearing that she was handling the Lafferty case. I was just telling her that as overwhelmed as your office is with the current caseload,” he waived his hand across her now cluttered desk, “and as circumstantial and far reaching the evidence is, it would really be in everyone’s interest to drop this one to save your office and the taxpayers a great deal of time and money.”
“Is that so, Vincent. Way to be a team player,” Mr. Davis said sarcastically and patted him on the back. “I have every confidence that Ms. Hastings and her team are more than capable of taking care of this.”
“Suit yourself.” Vincent flashed his politician smile. “I make money either way. Looking at this mess though, I won’t hold my breath.”
“Actually, Mr. Davis,” Olivia interrupted the circle jerk for a moment, “I started on that case this morning. In going through the evidence it looks like we have what we need to bring charges.” Of course proving the right to search and seizure was going to be a challenge, but she wasn’t about to say that in front of Vincent.
“That’s if you can get your evidence admitted. Good luck with that,” Vincent countered and turned toward the door. “Oh, and Olivia, I’m looking forward to sparring with you again. See you in court, baby.” He gave her a wink and took off down the hall.
Mr. Davis shook his head, stepped forward and took the folder. Silently he reviewed the motion she had put together. Several tense moments passed as he studied, stopped and check referenced evidence photos, and then returned to the motion.
Finally, he closed the folder and looked up at her with a grin. “Good work, Ms. Hastings. This is why you are going to make such a good addition to this team.” He slapped the folder down on her desk. The surprise in his eyes told her it was harder than he meant to. “Sorry, that man makes my blood pressure skyrocket. I may be getting too old for this. You know you are going to have a battle getting that search and seizure to stick.”
Olivia nodded. “I know. I am going to fight for this tooth and nail.”
“I have no doubt, Olivia, but remember you have a team. Work together. You don’t have to do this alone.” His voice heeded an air of warning.
Olivia did not have the reputation of being a team player. She liked to work late, long, and alone. Other people often wanted breaks or evenings home or God forbid weekends off. She forced a smile. “Of course, yes, the team.” She didn’t know which would be worse . . . dealing with Vincent or working in a group.
“Good girl. I’m heading to a meeting with the governor so I’m going to miss your team meeting this afternoon. Keep me up to date, okay?” he said, raising his eyebrows and nodding. He turned and started out of her office then paused at the door. “I know you can do this.” He smiled and left her to sort the Mount Everest of mail.
Olivia let out a long sigh. She had forgotten about the team meeting. A Freudian slip to be sure. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just do this on her own; let the team handle other cases. Surely, she could be more effective working by herself. She began sorting the mail. Her own went into a small stack on the right, the rest was for the Hardman case. She made piles for tips, complaints, and miscellaneous reports. She pulled a red and black envelope out of the box. It was addressed to Olivia Wilson Hastings. She paused, ice water ran over her skin. Who the hell was this from? She didn’t see a return address on the outside, but curiosity was burning the page in her fingers, so she opened it.
Sexy and Sassy Signing and The Literary Gossip Present
“Star Studded Weekend Affair”
She looked it over and laughed. This had obviously been sent by mistake. She wasn’t an author and hadn’t read for fun in years. If she did, it definitely wouldn’t be romance. Olivia did not believe in the tooth fairy, Santa Claus or happily ever afters. That part of herself died a long time ago. She started to crumple it up when the name on a note tucked inside caught her attention. Carefully she uncrinkled the paper for a better look. Piper Barringer. Olivia sat back in her chair. She started to count the years since they had actually spoken. Could it really have been ten years?
How the hell had Piper found her here? Olivia immediately felt guilty for the thought. Piper was her roommate and best friend in college. Man, they used to get into some shit. Olivia recalled the time Piper nearly caught their dorm on fire reheating Chinese food in the metal container for their Miss Saigon dinner. When the fire department arrived they were wearing bathrobes and wedge sandals with their hair twisted up in chopsticks. The RA had not been amused. The firefighters on the other hand, well that was another story entirely. Ten years. Olivia suddenly felt more alone than she cared to admit.
She turned the card over again. The invitation made perfect sense coming from Piper. She always had been a hopeless romantic. Olivia chuckled remembering the semester Piper was head over heels for the professor from her English Lit class. She had been his biggest fan, reading all his books, and attending his lectures at a neighboring campus. Olivia had teased her calling her captain of the Harlequin paparazzi. Piper wasn’t fazed. She was star struck and madly in love until the end of the semester when she had walked in on him with another student; a male student. Poor sweet Piper had been crushed. It was only then, she realized she never stood a chance.
To cheer Piper up, she and Grace had pooled all their money and taken Piper to Virginia Beach for summer break. What started as a one week vacation became one fucking crazy summer. They worked as waitresses in a bikini bar and lived in a hole in the wall apartment on the beach. Looking back it was careless, as they were poor, but oh . . . Those beautiful tan boys and sexy sailors made it all worthwhile. That was the summer between their sophomore and junior years of undergrad. Shit, they were crazy back then. Suddenly she longed to feel that carefree again. They were on top of the world. When the summer ended, she and Piper had gone back to Yale, and Grace had gone back to Brown. Olivia shook her head. That was a long time ago.
She wasn’t the same girl she was then. She put the invitation down and looked out the window. That was before . . . She swallowed hard again. There was a reason she hadn’t seen Piper in all these years. I need to get back to work. I don’t have time for this.
Throughout her casework that afternoon, Piper kept creeping back into her thoughts. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. Piper had been her best friend. Olivia knew it hadn’t been fair to shut Piper out. Guilt was a demon that was too great to bear. Some scars don’t ever really heal. She glanced at the clock. Oh shit. It is already three fifteen. How did that happen? She jumped up and grabbed her files and sprinted down the hall. Despite her black Paolina heels, Olivia moved with the speed and grace of a gazelle to the sixth-floor conference room. She eased into a seat just as Deputy Harris was starting the meeting.
Olivia stilled herself to the here and now. She moved through the meeting and the rest of her day focused on the cases at hand. She had spent a decade pushing her inner demons far into the recesses. She wasn’t going to let them come roaring back now. Olivia tossed the invitation into the overflowing recycling bin beside her desk and got back to work.
Long after everyone else had gone, Olivia began to clean up her desk for the day. The janitor was already vacuuming the hall when Olivia made her way toward the elevator, arms loaded with files to review over takeout. She had just reached the elevator when he called out to her.
“Ms. Hastings! Wait!”
Olivia turned to see Harold, the janitor, coming toward her waving something.
“You dropped this Ms. Hastings,” he said, a little out of breath from his haste. He stretched out his hand and placed the red and black card in hers.
Olivia stared down at the invitation in her hands. “Thank . . . Um . . . Thank
you, Harold,” she stammered, unable to believe it. She was sure she had thrown it away earlier in the day. She nodded to Harold and got on the elevator still staring at the card. Is fate playing tricks on me? Olivia laughed into the empty elevator. She didn’t believe in fate, but maybe she had punished herself and poor Piper long enough. It would be fun to see Piper again. Ahh, to be young and carefree just for one weekend. She turned the invitation back and forth in her hand like a fan and bit her lip. What would it hurt to take one weekend for actual fun? Olivia couldn’t remember the last time she had done that. She tapped the card on her hand. As she exited the elevator, she took out her cell and dialed the number listed for Piper.
“Hello,” the familiar voice answered. God, Piper’s voice was exactly the same, soft and slightly high pitched. “Hello, this is Piper Barringer, can I help you?” she asked again.
“I doubt it,” Olivia answered in full snark.
Silence.
“Olivia?” Piper asked cautiously, as if she was afraid to believe it was true. “Olivia, is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I got your invitation. How are you, Piper?” Olivia replied. She suddenly realized she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know Piper anymore.
“You are a hard woman to track down. I wasn’t sure if you would even respond. It’s been such a long time, but I had heard you were in Norfolk, and then this event came up. It was fate,” Piper said hopefully. Olivia pictured her twirling her blond hair nervously, the way she always did when she studied.
“I’m glad to hear from you, Piper. I can’t believe it has been this long.” Olivia almost laughed when she heard Piper gushing about fate. She was still the hopeless romantic, she guessed.
“Olivia, it would be so good to see you again. Do you think you will be able to attend the event? It’s going to be amazing! The authors, the models, Olivia I am telling you SaSS is the event of the year!” Piper sounded like she was about to go to Disney World.
“I’m not sure about all the romance jazz, but it would be great to see you again.” Olivia hoped she wasn’t going to regret this. “When are you coming into town?”