by Linda Warren
The three men shared a secret glance.
“Well.” Sam slapped a hand on the desk. “Blair’s a mature adult woman and I know she can handle it.”
Theo gave a gruff laugh. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Sam. But do you actually know your daughter? She’s been trying to beat Culver for two years. It’s common knowledge around the courthouse—and so is her dislike of the man.”
“I know,” Sam said tightly.
“Again, I don’t mean any disrespect,” Theo continued, “but are you sure Culver is the right man for the job? After all, Blair did beat him today.”
“Have you ever seen him in a courtroom?”
“Not lately,” Theo murmured.
“Today was just a fluke. Raye was guilty, and everyone knew it, even Lucas, and though he wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t give this case his best.”
“Why do you say that?” Theo wanted to know.
“Because Lucas has this chemistry, especially with female jurors. You have to see it to believe it, but he can razzle-dazzle a jury better than anyone I’ve ever seen. I need that type of charisma on my side. Someone who can beat the odds and win.”
“Why didn’t he do that with the Raye case?” Derek asked.
Sam shot him a piercing glance. “Because he didn’t choose the jury. Tenney did, and Lucas didn’t get to establish that intimacy with them. Besides, Raye was guilty as hell.”
He paused, then asked, “Are you questioning my judgment?”
“No, of course not,” Derek was quick to say.
“I’ve researched this, and I know Lucas Culver inside and out. He’s the best, and we need him.”
“What about Blair?” Frank asked again.
“Blair will understand…in time.”
“Why don’t you just tell her the truth?”
“I can’t—not yet.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Derek put in.
“I do. Everything depends on Lucas.”
BLAIR RUSHED from her office. She was running behind, and her mother hated it when she arrived late. She had just enough time for a shower and a change of clothes. Her mother also hated it when she wore business suits to her dinner parties. She was considering what to wear, when Lucas’s smile entered her mind—the smile that had lingered on his lips as he watched her dance…his dark eyes touching her in ways that… No, don’t think about him, she warned herself. Any decent man would have apologized profusely for intruding on such a private moment, but not Lucas. Oh no, he had to capitalize on it for his own pleasure. She wouldn’t think about him. She wouldn’t.
She had the whole evening ahead of her, an evening with her brother and family, and she refused to let thoughts of Lucas ruin it. If she hurried, she might have a few minutes alone with Blake before dinner. She missed their long talks and—
Blair came to a complete stop. Her briefcase dropped to the pavement and her purse slid from her shoulder. All she could do was stare at her car in growing horror. Across the windshield was scrawled in red lipstick, I’ll get you, bitch.
Her body started to tremble, and fear was on the verge of consuming her—a fear from the past, a blinding, helpless fear. No, no, no, she told herself. She would not allow Hector Raye to do this to her. He wasn’t going to manipulate her with threats. Summoning all her strength, she forced the fear away. She had survived worse than Raye, and she would survive this.
She retrieved her purse and found her cell phone. She dialed Roger Collins’s number, and he was at her side in less than ten minutes; in another five, he had the situation under control.
Evan Holt was notified and the police were taking prints from the car, prior to beginning their investigation. Blair just wanted to go home.
“Are you okay?” Roger asked for the third time.
“I’m fine,” she answered with a stiff smile.
“It has to be Raye’s gang trying to scare you,” Roger said, gesturing at the ugly words.
“I know, but I don’t scare easily,” she said with more bravado than she felt. Glancing at her watch, she asked, “How much longer do you think it’ll be? I have to be at my parents’ for dinner.”
Roger spoke to a policeman, then turned back to her. “I’m sorry, Blair, but this is going to take a while. We don’t want to miss anything.”
“I really have to go.”
Roger looked at the car and shrugged. “Tell you what, I’ll drive you to your parents’.”
“Thanks.” She smiled slightly. “But I need to have my own wheels. Could you drive me to a rental agency?” She thought of Roger as a good friend, but she realized his feelings for her went much deeper and she didn’t want to encourage him. But right now, it was hard not to let him take over and protect her.
“I don’t think you should be alone. You never know who’s waiting out there. I’d feel better if—”
She stopped him. “I’m not alone.” She opened her purse and showed him the small handgun. She’d had it for years, and Roger had actually given her shooting lessons.
“I’d forgotten about the gun,” he said. “Still—”
“No.” She stopped him again. “I’m not letting Hector Raye and his gang frighten me with threats.”
Roger shook his head. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”
“I know.” She shifted her purse strap higher on her shoulder in a nervous gesture. “You’re a very good friend.”
“Blair, I could be—”
“Are you driving me to the rental agency?” she interrupted, knowing what he was about to say and not wanting to deal with another emotional upheaval. Not at that moment, anyway. She’d have to talk to Roger in the near future about his feelings for her, and she wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Your wish is my command,” he answered.
“Great,” she said with a sigh, and they started toward his car.
“I think I’ll give Lucas a call and let him know what his client’s up to,” Roger said.
Blair grabbed Roger’s arm. “No, please don’t call Lucas.”
Roger frowned. “Why not? He should know what Raye’s doing.”
Blair took a deep breath and tried to explain. “I just can’t deal with Lucas Culver anymore today.” The words sounded stupid to her own ears, but she was hardly going to tell Roger that she couldn’t face Lucas.
Roger’s frown deepened. “If that’s the way you want it.”
“It is,” she told him, hoping he’d leave it at that. He did, and Blair was grateful. If she never had to see Lucas Culver again, it would be too soon.
CHAPTER THREE
WITHIN MINUTES she was in a rental car and on the way to her apartment. She’d told Roger she wasn’t afraid; now all she had to do was to convince herself of that. She purposely kept the horrid message out of her mind as she showered, dressed and headed to River Oaks. She had learned that trick years ago and it had saved her so many times.
She drove up to the big gates and saw that Horace was on duty. Horace was the groundskeeper and handyman who had worked for her father for years. Tonight he was manning the gate, which meant there were other guests besides family. She waved and drove through. Usually a code had to be punched in for the gate to open. Her family had moved here after the attack, and an up-to-date security system had been installed for their safety. The large two-story chateau-style house had been a haven during the healing years, and it was always a pleasure to come home—even though she knew there was still tension between her father and brother. How long could her father keep blaming Blake for not becoming a lawyer?
She drove to the garages and used her remote control to open the door for her parking spot. Since she was more than fashionably late, she planned to sneak in through the kitchen so her mother wouldn’t see her. She felt as though she was fourteen again and trying to put something over on her mom. Greta, the housekeeper, met her at the kitchen door. Greta wore her black uniform with the white frilly apron, which confirmed that tonight was a formal occasio
n.
“Miss Blair, what are you doing coming in through the back door?” Greta chided.
Blair held a finger to her lips to silence her.
“I see you, Blair,” Ava Logan called from the kitchen. “So you can stop trying to sneak past me.”
Blair smiled at her mother, knowing it was useless even to try to fool her. She hadn’t been able to do it in thirty-two years and she wasn’t going to do it now. She gave her mother a hug and a kiss as Ava meticulously placed hors d’oeuvres on a silver tray. Hors d’oeuvres she had made herself, Blair knew. Her mother was a gourmet cook and either supervised or did most of the cooking.
At sixty-two, Ava Logan possessed a timeless beauty. Her hair, a golden blond that now came out of a bottle, hung in a pageboy around her dainty features and emphasized her light-brown eyes. She wore a peach silk dress, presently covered by a white apron. Blair was always amazed at her mother’s ability to remain cool and collected in times of stress. Her mother’s calm had been invaluable to her after the attack. Her father thought he was the backbone of the family, but it was her mother with her gentle ways and dedication to family that held them together.
“I had a busy day at the courthouse,” Blair said in her own defense. She didn’t plan to tell her parents about the message on her windshield. It would only worry them and they’d worried enough about her. Besides, tonight was a night for fun.
“Yes, I heard.” Her mother glanced at her. “Congratulations, darling.”
Before Ava turned away, Blair caught a glimmer of something unexpected in her eyes. Apprehension? But why?
“Mom, is everything okay?” Blair asked tentatively.
Ava slowly removed her apron and placed it carefully on the counter. “We have a houseful of guests, good food and wine, so what could be wrong?”
Her mother’s words sounded forced.
“I don’t know. You tell me, because you’re acting strangely.”
“It’s nothing.” Ava dismissed her daughter’s concern with a shake of her head. “It’s just that your father has to turn every party into a business meeting. I was hoping we could have only family tonight.”
That didn’t ring true, because she knew her mother enjoyed parties and cooking and everything connected to them. And she was used to her father springing extra guests on her. So what was going on? It was increasingly clear that her mother was nervous about something.
“Who’s here?” Blair asked as a way to get some answers.
“The Johnsons, the Manns, the Barkers and Calvin, Natalie and Tiffany,” her mother answered.
That didn’t give Blair any clues. Her dad’s business associates were frequent guests. Natalie was her father’s sister, and Calvin her husband. Tiffany was their daughter. Calvin was also the firm’s accountant, so their presence wasn’t out of the ordinary. Besides, they were family.
“How’s Tiffany doing?” Blair asked. Her cousin, a year younger than her, was going through a bad divorce.
“Still bitter.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So is Tiffany, but Nat felt that company might cheer her up.”
Poor Tiff, Blair thought. After five years of marriage, she’d come home one day to find her husband in bed with another woman. Joel, Tiffany’s husband, had seemed like a nice guy, but apparently he wasn’t satisfied with just one woman. He had hurt Tiffany very badly.
Blair was thankful she’d never have to deal with a situation like that. Years ago, she’d decided she didn’t care for men all that much, so the odds of her getting married were very slim. She knew she had a problem in that area, but it was her problem and her business.
Oh, God. She closed her eyes for a second. She didn’t want to be a frigid old maid. She needed to get out more, resolve those emotions that were tied to the past. Suddenly she remembered Lucas and his charming smile and— She quickly opened her eyes. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?
“You look beautiful,” her mother was saying. “I’m glad you didn’t wear one of those dreary suits.”
Shaking Lucas from her mind, Blair glanced down at her dress. It was deep blue with a square neck and cap sleeves that showed off her neck and long slender arms. The hem came two inches above her knees and showed more leg than she liked, but in her rush, she’d grabbed the dress at random. She didn’t want to be later than she absolutely had to.
“Darling, promise me something.” Ava’s concerned voice caught her attention.
“Sure,” Blair answered immediately.
“Don’t let your personal feelings get involved tonight. Be an adult and—”
“Hey, sis,” her brother interrupted as he came into the kitchen. “You’re finally home.”
She hugged Blake, still thinking about Ava’s odd request. She had no idea what her mother was talking about and she didn’t have time to figure it out.
Ava wrapped an arm around each of them. “My two children both at home. I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel.”
“Me, too,” Blair and Blake chorused, then laughed.
“I wish you’d stay home for good, Blake. London’s so far away,” Ava said plaintively.
“Now, Mom, don’t start.” Blake sighed. “You know that’s not possible.”
“But Blake,” Blair started, then stopped as Blake raised a hand.
“No pressure, ladies. Besides, we have a family member who’s desperately in need of our attention. Tiff can’t stop talking about Joel and the divorce, and it’s really more than I want to hear. She only drops that subject long enough to talk about—” Blake looked hesitantly at his mother, then at Blair.
“What?” Blair asked. He was hiding something from her; she’d sensed it earlier and now she was sure of it.
“Nothing.” Blake shrugged and took her hand. “Let’s join the guests.”
Blair trailed behind him into the living room and Ava followed. “I’ve brought reinforcements,” Blake announced, and glanced warily down the hall.
Everyone was acting strangely, Blair decided as she spoke to Meg Johnson, Nancy Mann and Beth Barker. She hugged her aunt and Tiffany.
“I guess Blake’s tired of listening to me,” Tiffany said.
“Never mind Blake.” Blair smiled at her beautiful cousin, who had pale blond hair and green eyes. As a young teen, she used to envy Tiffany’s hair because she’d heard that blondes had more fun. But now she was satisfied with her darker coloring.
“How’re you doing?” Blair asked sympathetically, giving her cousin another hug.
“Terrible,” Tiffany admitted, swirling wine around in her glass. “But I’m sure Blake’s already told you that. You two used to tell each other everything, and I’m sure that hasn’t changed.”
“A little,” Blair had to confess, and noticed that Blake kept looking toward the hallway leading to her father’s study. Was he nervous about seeing their dad? Their father was obviously holed up in the study with his cronies.
“But I’m feeling much better since I met that gorgeous hunk your father invited,” Tiffany said, smoothing a hand over her slim hips. “Oh, yes, I’m feeling much better.”
“For heaven’s sake, Tiff,” Natalie spoke up. “Remember your manners.” Natalie’s dark hair was now almost completely gray, but her blue eyes were as vivid as ever. Blair had always been told that she resembled her father’s sister, and she knew she had the Logan hair and eyes, but she had her mother’s dainty features.
“Mother, I’m entitled to some fun,” Tiffany reminded her.
“Just be careful. This man’s a complete stranger and we know nothing about him.”
Voices in the hall put an end to the conversation. Blair wondered who Tiffany was talking about. All the men gathered in her father’s study were married. Had he invited someone else? Her mother hadn’t said.
“Remember your promise,” Ava whispered as the men entered the living room.
Blair’s eyes swung from her father, to Derek Johnson, to Frank Mann, to Theo Barker, to Uncle Calv
in—and settled on the sixth man. He was dressed stylishly in a dark brown suit, light brown shirt and darker tie. He was smiling devilishly at her, and everything in Blair exploded with a rage she hadn’t felt in a long time. How dare he! How dare he come into her home! What was Lucas Culver doing here?
She hadn’t even realized she’d spoken the words aloud until her father put an arm around her shoulder and answered, “I invited him, sweetie.”
“You invited him?” Blair repeated in an incredulous tone. “You invited Lucas Culver to dinner?”
Blair’s reaction didn’t surprise Lucas. He’d expected it. He not only saw her anger, he felt it. There was pure fire coming from those beautiful blue eyes and it was aimed directly at him. He’d seen Blair out of her element earlier, but this Blair was completely different. She was woman—all woman—from the dark hair hanging around her shoulders to the high heels. Her blue dress magnified her eyes and clung to her curves—curves that drew his eyes like a magnet.
He’d always considered Blair a petite person, but her legs were long and shapely and had his full attention. He was losing it, he told himself. The woman was furious at him, and he was mentally undressing her. Yep, he was losing it.
“Now, Blair, be reasonable,” Sam was imploring.
“Reasonable?” Blair pushed out of his arms and stared at her mother. “You knew,” she cried, then pinned her gaze on Blake. “And so did you.”
Ava and Blake had the grace to look ashamed, but it didn’t mollify Blair in the least. “No one thought to tell me. No one considered my feelings.”
“Blair, darling, don’t make a scene,” her mother begged.
“Okay, Mother,” Blair snapped. “I’ll leave, so you can get on with your party.” Having said that, she turned and stormed out of the room.
Voices followed her. “Jeez, what’s got her so riled up?” Tiffany said.
“I told you, Sam. I told you,” her mother declared.
Blake caught her in the kitchen. “Sis, don’t leave, please.”
“Why is my kitchen all of a sudden Grand Central Station?” Greta asked, putting the finishing touches on spinach salads.
