by Regina Kyle
Neither one of them had been able to get any work done, which meant Gabe hadn’t figured out a way to connect Jack to the missing surveillance video. And until he did, an innocent man sat in jail.
“I’m sorry.” Gabe gave his secretary what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I know these past few weeks haven’t been easy. And I trust your judgment. It must be important if you decided it was worth the interruption.”
“She says it’s urgent.”
“She?”
“It’s Devin. I tried to get her to leave a message or come back later, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
A jolt of adrenaline kicked his heart into overdrive. He could picture her, hands on her hips, feet firmly planted, tapping one of her Doc Martens impatiently on the green-and-white linoleum.
It must be urgent for her to break down and pay him a visit. Like end-of-the-world urgent. He’d tried calling her so many times in the three weeks, two days, fourteen hours and fifty-three minutes since she’d walked out of his apartment—not that he was keeping track or anything—that it bordered on harassment. But she’d never answered. Hadn’t returned any of his calls. Made it painfully clear she didn’t want a damned thing to do with him. Only an act of God would have made her come all the way downtown to see him.
Had something happened to Victor? Or Leo? He didn’t dare hope Devin had changed her mind and rushed to his side the minute she realized she’d made a huge mistake leaving him.
A sappy thought that suddenly didn’t seem so sappy.
He saved the document he was working on and pushed his chair back. “That’s Devin, all right. Show her in.”
“I showed myself in.” Devin pushed past Stephanie and made herself at home in one of his guest chairs, crossing one smooth, bare leg over the other and sending his sex drive into orbit. “I couldn’t take the chance you wouldn’t see me.”
Gabe nodded to his secretary. “Thank you, Stephanie.”
He cleared his throat and loosened his tie, fighting his more primal instincts, which were screaming at him to throw her across the desk and reenact the steamy sex dreams he’d been having on a nightly basis.
“I had to see you.” Devin rummaged in her purse and pulled out a yellow legal pad. “It’s urgent.”
“So my secretary told me.” Gabe picked up a pencil and twirled it in his fingers. “Must be to bring you down here.”
“It’s about the election.”
He dropped the pencil. It bounced noisily on the desk, finally coming to rest next to his coffee cup. “The election?”
She nodded, her dark hair swinging. He was sure he could smell her almond shampoo, even across the desk. “Your opponent was at The Mark last night when I was tending bar.”
“Jack?”
“That’s him. He...”
Gabe held up his hand, palm out, silencing her.
“Hold on.” He crossed to the door and checked the hall. Empty. With one final glance left and right to be sure no one was close by, he closed the door and returned to his seat.
“Now what’s all this about?”
She pushed the pad across the desk. “I wrote it all down. I hope it’s enough. I had my goddamn cell in my pocket the whole time, but I didn’t think fast enough to hit Record.”
He read silently, his mind whirring as he absorbed what she’d written.
“Did anyone else hear this?” he asked when he was finished.
She shook her head. “What does it all mean?”
“It’s complicated. But with your help, I should be able to expose Jack and free an innocent man.”
“And win the election,” she added.
He shrugged. “That’s secondary. Did you get a good look at either one of them?”
“No. And they didn’t see me.”
He damn well hoped not. Otherwise she could be in serious danger. There was no telling the lengths Jack would go to shut her up if he knew what she’d heard. “Do you think you could identify their voices?”
“Probably.” She frowned, her forehead creasing in concentration. “The first one sounded familiar, and the minute the second guy called him Jack it clicked. I met him that day in your office. And the other guy had an accent. Eastern European, I think. But I’d know his voice if I heard it again.”
Eastern European accent, with a son named Phillip? And enough money and influence to have an assistant district attorney in his pocket? That could only be one guy. Ilya Roginsky, real estate mogul and owner of half the island of Manhattan.
Shit. Gabe steepled his fingers under his chin. Roginsky was rumored to have connections with the Russian mob. Jack was small potatoes compared to him.
“Are you willing to swear to that under oath?” he asked. “Give a statement to my inspector? Testify in court if it comes to that?”
He hoped to hell it wouldn’t. And if it did, he’d make damned sure she had a security detail around the clock. If anything happened to her... He ran a hand through his hair, not even able to contemplate what he’d do then.
Her bottom lip trembled for a split second before she pressed her mouth into a tight, thin line. “If that’s what it takes. So you believe me?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know, maybe because I broke up with you, didn’t return any of your phone calls and showed up here unannounced, with some chicken scratch on a legal pad?”
He let out his breath in a long whoosh. “Whatever happened between us, you’re no liar. I’d stake my career on that.”
“Thanks.” She twisted one of the studs in her ear and looked away. “I want you to know...”
A rap at the door cut her off.
“Come in,” Gabe called.
Jack stuck his oily head in. “What’s with all the closed doors lately?”
His eyes landed on Devin. “Never mind. Now I understand. Sorry for interrupting.”
“I’m sure you are.” Gabe wrapped his fingers around the arms of his chair in a white-knuckle grip, resisting the urge to jump over the desk and pound Jack’s smug face into a pulp. The instant gratification would be sweet, but seeing Jack escorted out of the office in handcuffs would be the best revenge. “At least you had the courtesy to knock this time.”
“Stephanie said you have the transcripts of the Reyes trial.” Jack crossed to the empty guest chair and made himself at home, sinking into it and resting an ankle on one knee.
Gabe gritted his teeth. “Stephanie also knows I don’t want to be disturbed.”
“I dimly recall her mentioning something about that.” Jack waved off Gabe’s complaint. “But I need to read the testimony of the defense’s expert tonight. I’m cross-examining him in the Samuels case tomorrow.”
“I’ll have her bring it to you when we’re done.”
Devin unfolded her long legs and rose. “It’s okay. I think I’ve got what I need.”
Her eyes caught Gabe’s and she nodded, telling him without words she’d heard enough. Jack was one of the men at The Mark last night. He nodded back, letting her know he understood.
“What you need?” Jack waggled his eyebrows.
“Get your mind out of the gutter.” Devin shot him a glare that could have turned the Hope Diamond into a pile of expensive dust. “Gabe was giving me some friendly legal advice. Landlord issues.”
She turned to Gabe, her expression softening. “Thanks again.”
“My pleasure.” Gabe stood and walked her to the door. When they got there, he bent his head to whisper in her ear. “I’ll be in touch so we can take your statement. About your landlord.”
“Gabe.” Her voice faltered and she started again. “Gabe, I’m...”
“Sorry. I know.” He reached for the door knob and pulled the door open.
She gave him a weak smile and strode through.
And for the second time in a month he stood and watched helplessly as the woman he loved walked away.
19
“WHAT ARE YOU making for us today, Victor?�
�
Devin looked over Victor’s shoulder at the drawing on the table in front of him. This had become a Thursday ritual in the months since she’d found her brother. She picked him up at Haven House in the morning and brought him to Ink the Heights. He seemed to like the atmosphere of the shop—the yellow walls cheery but not too bright, the customers chatty but not too friendly.
Then, when her shift was done, she took him back to the group home. It made for a long day traveling to and from Long Island, and she had to borrow Leo’s car, which she hated. But that would change once a space in their Manhattan location opened up, something the staff at Haven House assured her would happen any day now, maybe even in time for Christmas. From there, the plan was for him to move in with Devin, eventually, with the help of a full-time aide.
“Seahorse,” Victor answered, not looking up from his artwork, his colored pencil moving furiously. Eye contact was still tough for him. But he remembered her. Responded to her questions. Even let her touch him every once in a while.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. He’d rendered the creature in muted blues and greens, flanked by pale yellow sea grass and bright pink and purple coral.
“Another one for the book?” Leo asked, coming over to see for himself. Ever since Victor’s second visit, when Leo had seen him doodling on a napkin with a Sharpie and given him paper and a set of colored pencils, Leo had taken a special interest in Victor’s artistic ability. Just like he’d done with Devin ten years ago.
“I’d say so.” Devin laid her hand gently on her brother’s shoulder. Her heart stuttered when he didn’t flinch.
“I’ll get it.” Leo went and pulled down a thick black binder, already bursting at the seams. “We’re going to need another one soon. The regulars will revolt if we don’t have Victor’s latest designs to show them.”
“What do you think, Victor?” Devin asked. “Should we start a new book? Maybe a red binder this time. You can do some special stuff for the holidays.”
Christmas had always been his favorite time of year. Santa Claus. Snowflakes. Sleigh bells. He loved it all, in small doses. “And we can decorate the shop next week.”
Victor’s eyes stayed locked on the drawing but his head gave an almost imperceptible nod. “The male seahorse is the only male in the animal kingdom to give birth to its young.”
“Where did you learn that?” She let her hand fall, not wanting to push her luck.
“Animal Planet.” He finished shading a blade of sea grass and put down his pencil. “I also know that seahorses are fish, that they’re bad swimmers and that they mate for life.”
“Let me guess.” She smiled. “More Animal Planet?”
“Is Leo your mate?” He picked up an orange pencil and started on another piece of coral.
“I’m her friend.” Leo thankfully stepped in to respond, setting the binder down gently on the table so as not to startle Victor. “Yours, too.”
“You should have a mate. For life, like seahorses.” Victor caught her eye briefly then looked back down at his paper. “What about Gabe? He could be your mate.”
Her brother had only met Gabe a few times in the weeks before the split, but Gabe had clearly made quite an impression, judging by the number of times Victor brought his name up. Each new reference was like a knife to the gut, hot and twisting. She thought the pain would recede with time. If anything, it had gotten worse. Two months of intense, bittersweet longing, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her Pamplona Purple toenails.
“He has a point.” Leo rested against the wall, crossing his tattooed arms across his broad chest and giving her what she called his Spanish Inquisition stare. “You never did tell me what went wrong with you and Clarence Darrow.”
“It’s complicated.”
“It always is.”
“It was for the best.”
“Who’s best?” Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Yours? Because I hate to tell you, hermanita, I’ve seen you in far better shape. You’ve been sleepwalking through life since you two broke up.”
“I have not.”
“Then why did you almost misspell strength on Jazmin’s wrist?”
“Spelling’s never been my strong suit.” Devin grabbed a handful of tools from her work station, tossed them into the autoclave and flipped the switch. “And I caught it in time, didn’t I?”
“Barely.”
“I’m done.” Victor slid his drawing across the table. “And I’m hungry.”
“I’ve got granola bars in my purse.” Devin reached under the table for her bag. “That’ll have to tide you over until closing time.”
“Go.” Leo picked up the drawing and admired it, sliding the paper into an empty sheet protector. “I’ll lock up. Looks like my last client’s a no-show.”
As he spoke, the bell above the door chimed. A second later, Hector pushed through the curtain and dropped into Leo’s hydraulic chair. “Sorry I’m late, manito.”
“Gabe,” Victor said.
“Not Gabe.” Hector had about ten years and fifty pounds on Gabe. Maybe Victor wasn’t as enamored with Gabe as she thought if he’d mixed them up. Then again, the workings of Victor’s mind were—and would always be—a mystery. “This is Hector. You’ve seen him here before. He’s getting your wolf tattooed on his shoulder.”
“No. Gabe.” Victor pointed to a newspaper someone had left behind. “Here.”
“In the paper?” Devin crouched next to her brother for a better view. “Let me see.”
Gabe had been big news since the shitstorm with Jack hit the fan. He’d come out the hero, with Jack disgraced, forced to resign and possibly facing criminal charges. And even more important in Gabe’s eyes, she knew, the suspect in the Park Avenue case had been released and reunited with his family. Maybe they’d finally tracked down Phillip and arrested him.
She inched the newspaper out from under Victor’s hand. Sure enough, Gabe’s face stared back at her, handsome as always but haggard, recent events clearly taking their toll. But the headline next to the photo wasn’t about Phillip or the Park Avenue murders. Instead, it read Front Runner May Be Bowing out of Race for Top Spot in DA’s Office.
She shot upright, banging her hip on the table and almost knocking Victor’s pencils onto the floor. “What the fuck?”
“That’s a bad word.” Her brother rocked back and forth. “You’re not supposed to say bad words.”
“I know. But sometimes...” Sometimes even fuck wasn’t strong enough to express her level of pissedoffedness. Sometimes a thousand fucks weren’t strong enough.
“Que pasa?” Leo put the binder back on the shelf and leaned against the counter.
“Take a look at this.” She thrust the paper into his hands. “He’s quitting.”
“Who’s quitting what?” Hector asked.
Devin ignored him and sat on the edge of her tattoo chair to stop herself from pacing the floor, which would only make Victor nervous. “All that work getting him ready to run, for nothing. How can he do this to me?”
“To you?” Leo raised a suspicious brow. “Or for you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did you read the article?”
“No.” She’d been too freaking furious to get past the headline.
“It says he’s considering dropping out to focus on personal issues,” Leo read. “Rumor has it he’s heartbroken.”
“It does not say that.” She snatched the paper back, frantically scanning it.
“Not in so many words,” Leo admitted. “But the picture speaks volumes. Look at those haunted eyes. If that’s not a man who’s had his heart ripped out and stomped on, I don’t know what is.”
“I did not rip out his heart and stomp on it.” Devin huffed a stray hair off her forehead. “And heartbroken or not, I’m not letting him quit. Not after I left him so he’d...”
Damn. She bit her lip, but it was too late. The knowing glint in Leo’s eyes told her she’d already said too much.
�
��Ah.” His satisfied smile would have rivaled the Cheshire cat’s. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Hector coughed not so discretely. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“Devin gave up the man she loves under the misguided impression that she’s bad for his career. And now he’s giving up his career for her.” Leo put the newspaper down on the counter behind him and walked over to his station. “Very ‘The Gift of the Magi.’”
“That’s not it at all.”
“Isn’t it?” Leo tilted his head to study her. “It’s obvious to even the most casual observer.”
“Obvious,” Victor echoed, methodically putting his pencils back in their box.
She shook her head. It couldn’t be. Yeah, she loved him. That much of Leo’s theory was true. But no way was he dropping out of the race for her. There had to be some other reason. And as much as she hated the idea of facing him again, there was only one way to find out.
Ask him.
“I’m still not following you,” Hector said, rubbing his jaw.
“And I’m still hungry.” Victor snapped the lid on his pencil box shut.
“Here.” Devin fished another granola bar out of her purse. “Your favorite. Chocolate chip and peanut butter.”
Victor knocked it out of her hand. “I don’t want granola. I want McDonald’s.”
She looked at the clock above the sink. 6:05 p.m. Too late to catch Gabe at the office, and no way was she going to his apartment. Too many memories and way, way too much room for temptation, with his ginormous bed and the walk-in shower with the body jets. Besides, she had to get Victor fed and home. Anything she had to say to Gabe would have to wait until tomorrow, when she’d had time to calm down and think rationally.
“Come on.” She picked up the granola bar, stuffed it into her purse and handed her brother his backpack and Tex. The armadillo hadn’t been out of his sight since she’d given it back to him. “Let’s get our coats and grab something to eat.”
