Evening Hours

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  No matter.

  Cutler was more than ready to take him on. He had earned a reputation for his own brand of hard-ass volatility. He’d been accused of being so self-assured he wouldn’t listen to others. His own head of Major Crimes, Mike Snelling, had told him that to his face. He couldn’t argue with him.

  He liked to think that he merely approached everything with the grit and determination that eventually brought justice to all. For that Cutler would make no apologies regardless of whether he was reelected. He’d be devastated if he wasn’t, but no one would ever know, not even his mother.

  He’d started out as a cop before attending law school, then had spent several years practicing criminal law, and his determination had catapulted him to the office of district attorney.

  If he lost this election, Cutler knew he could always go back to practicing law, but he didn’t want to do that. He had grown to respect, if not actually enjoy, his job and he wanted desperately to hold on to it. According to his mother, he’d sacrificed a home and family for the people, which was only partly true.

  Although he’d been with a lot of women, he’d never found one with whom he thought he could spend the rest of his life. That included his present significant other, Julia Freeman. He cared about her as a friend, though he wasn’t positive that was her perception of their relationship despite his candor on the subject. When he needed a woman on his arm for social purposes, he chose Julia.

  It would take a special woman to put up with him, and he knew it. Until last night he hadn’t met anyone he felt the desire to sleep with.

  Kaylee Benton had set his heart racing, and he was still thinking about her.

  He hadn’t had that reaction to a female in ages. But there was something about Kaylee that had intrigued him from the moment his blue eyes had locked with her large brown ones.

  He was used to appraising stares from the opposite sex, and he was aware that he was thought of as a player in the singles arena. But there was something different about Kaylee and her eyes. She had touched him on a deeper level.

  Had he detected sadness reflected in her expression when they had met face-to-face? Whatever melancholy she might have been feeling, Cutler immediately recognized one classy lady, someone more striking than drop-dead gorgeous, in both looks and personality.

  Perhaps it was the dimple in her right cheek that had revved his engine. Perhaps it was her body, although he hadn’t seen her standing. His instinct assured him that wouldn’t be necessary. She was nipped in all the right places. And for someone with such a lithe figure, she was amply endowed.

  In his opinion, she would light up a runway more than any of the models who worked for her, and he assumed she had been a model herself. Her unblemished skin, high cheekbones and shoulder-length golden-brown hair were dazzling features.

  Down, boy, he warned himself. Now was not the time to get seriously involved with a woman, not when his life was already on maximum overload. On the other hand, maybe a relationship was exactly what he needed to take the edge off his overstressed mind and body.

  For a moment he considered turning to the computer and running a background check on her.

  Nah.

  If she was a woman he wanted to know better, even on a short-term basis, and she was, then it was better to slowly unwrap the package and savor its contents.

  “You got a moment?”

  Startled at the unexpected interruption, Cutler barely managed not to show his surprise. And disgust. He’d rather start his day biting into a wormy apple than cross paths with this man.

  Mike Snelling, head of Major Crimes Division, was a royal pain in the ass, and had been from day one of Cutler’s term in office. He and Mike had crossed swords from the start, and he didn’t see that changing. Whatever Cutler said, Mike would argue the opposite.

  Yet he’d have to give the devil his due. Snelling was damn competent and when push came to shove, Cutler could depend on him. That was why he curbed the urge to deck him every time he opened his mouth.

  “What’s up?” Cutler finally asked, trying to keep his voice even.

  Mike, who was short and round with ears that protruded far too much, ambled toward one of the vacant chairs in front of the massive desk, sat down and took a deep breath. That short trek had clearly winded him. Cutler wanted to point that out, but that would be like tossing a lighted cigarette butt on a puddle of gasoline.

  “I just wanted to make sure you know what you’re doing,” Snelling said without mincing words.

  What a pompous prick. “I’m not even going to respond to that.”

  “I’m referring to Judge Jenkins,” Snelling pressed.

  “I know that.”

  “My advice is to back off.”

  Cutler squinted his eyes. “I don’t recall asking for your advice.”

  “I know you two butt heads in court like angry bulls,” Snelling went on as though Cutler hadn’t spoken. “Everyone knows that, but to blatantly open an investigation against him is preposterous, if not suicidal.”

  “Thanks for that assessment.”

  “Just because he’s overturned several of your cases doesn’t give you the right to go for his jugular. There’s such a thing as evidence.”

  Cutler narrowed his eyes and strengthened his voice. “I’m not going to take that as an insult, Snelling. Not this time, anyway.”

  Snelling flushed, but didn’t make a comeback. Good call, Cutler thought.

  Following a terse silence, Snelling asked, “Give me something tangible to work with.”

  “What I have is suspicion. It’s your job to get the evidence.”

  This time it was Snelling who looked as if he’d bitten into a worm. “I’m listening.”

  “Angel and I have noticed a pattern in Jenkins’s dismissals. Not just mine, either, though mine were slam dunks for sure.”

  “You’re saying he’s taking bribes.”

  “That’s my guess.”

  “How?”

  “Several of the dismissals were good-looking women….” Cutler purposely let his voice fade.

  Snelling looked shocked. “Are you saying he’s trading dismissals for sex?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. What I am saying is that the bastard has something going, and I aim to find out what it is.”

  “He’s a powerful man, Cutler, one who has the power to knock your dick in the dirt with one hand tied behind him.”

  “That thought ought to make your day.”

  “I don’t know why I try to reason with you.” Snelling’s tone was testy.

  “Look, I’m going to get the judge, one way or the other.” Cutler’s features were grim. “Your job is to help me.”

  “As head of Major Crimes, I think you’re making a big mistake.”

  “You’re entitled to your opinion.”

  “He’s going to sink you, cost you the election,” Snelling stressed.

  “Then so be it.” Cutler clenched his jaw. “A man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.”

  “Maybe I should come back later.”

  Talk about timing. Cutler could cheerfully have gotten up and hugged Angel Martinez’s neck for opening the door enough to get his head through it. “Come on in. Mike was just leaving.”

  “You haven’t heard the last of this, McFarland,” Snelling said, stomping to the door, then slamming it behind him.

  “Why don’t you two put on gloves, climb in a ring and get at it?”

  Cutler grinned for a second. “Not a bad idea.”

  Angel just shook his head as he made his way farther into the room. He was dark haired and white skinned. His name was the only thing that labeled him Mexican-American. Still, he was proud of his heritage even though he’d never set foot in Mexico, having been born and reared in Houston.

  He was good-looking, a truly decent guy and a competent investigator. Cutler didn’t know what he would do without him. Angel’s calm demeanor and sound advice had saved his ass on many occasions.

  “So what’s got
Snelling up in arms this time?”

  “The judge.”

  “He thinks we can’t nail him.”

  Cutler noticed that Angel made a plain statement of fact. “You agree?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yep.”

  A short silence.

  “Let me put it this way,” Angel said. “When you make up your mind to get someone, judge or not, my money’s on you.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Angel snorted. “As if you ever doubted.”

  “I never take anything or anyone for granted. You should know that.”

  “If Major Crimes can get the evidence on Jenkins, then I can prosecute.” Angel paused, then changed the subject. “From the looks of your desk, we’re drowning.”

  “I couldn’t have put it better myself.”

  “So let’s get started.”

  Cutler opened the first file and groaned. When he would’ve chucked it aside, Angel shook his head. “No choosing favorites. We have to take them as they come. Let’s hear it.”

  Cutler blew out his breath. “It’s the Sessions case.”

  Angel visibly winced. “It’s cases like this one that make me want to take this job and shove it. How any woman can drown her three kids in the bathtub is more than my mind can comprehend.”

  “Me, too. In fact, I could vomit right about now.”

  “To make matters worse, she’ll probably get off on an insanity plea.” Angel paused. “You know her husband’s hired Arthur Beaumont.”

  “No, dammit, I didn’t.”

  “If anyone can get her off, it’s that double-dealin’ son of a bitch.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Cutler said, a violent edge to his voice. “Not as long as I’m upright and breathing, that is.”

  “Then we’d best put our heads together and plan our strategy.”

  For the next hour they made significant progress depleting the stack. Once Angel left, Cutler helped himself to another cup of coffee, went over some files with his secretary and then buried himself in more files.

  The growl of his stomach told him the day was more than half gone. Pushing away from his desk, Cutler rubbed the back of his shoulders, trying to get rid of the burning sensation in his muscles.

  He needed a break, but he needed to continue to work, as well. He was surprised that Julia hadn’t called him, asking him over for dinner. He wouldn’t go anyway. Dinner with her didn’t appeal to him.

  Without weighing the consequences of his actions, he reached for the phone and called his favorite florist. Then he dialed Information. “Benton Modeling Agency, please.”

  Four

  “Yes, Christy.”

  “Uh, there’s a man on the line—”

  “If it’s not important, I don’t want to talk,” Kaylee said in a more abrupt tone than she’d intended. But her mind was on the twenty or so beauty shots scattered across her desk, and she wasn’t in the mood to be interrupted. It was her fault, however, for not informing Christy Deason of that. She was the assistant who manned the lobby desk.

  “I’m not sure.” Christy’s tone was hesitant.

  Kaylee sighed, curbing her building irritation. “What does that mean?”

  “He said it was personal.”

  Kaylee’s hand froze around the receiver while her heart raced.

  “He has a great voice, that’s for sure.”

  “What?”

  “Uh, sorry, Kaylee, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay, Christy. Put him through.” Why not? Her circuits were already frazzled. Besides, her caller could be any number of business associates she dealt with on a daily basis.

  “This is Kaylee.”

  “Good morning.”

  At the sound of his vibrant, sexy voice, her hand once again turned rigid around the receiver. “How are you?” Somehow she managed to get that normal-sounding question out without sounding like an idiot. At least, she hoped so.

  “I’m good.”

  He chuckled then. Through the line the chuckle sounded low and intimate. No doubt she was headed down a slippery slope. If she didn’t stop that slide, she was headed for big trouble.

  “My, but we’re so formal,” he said into the beating silence.

  She picked up on the note of humor in his tone along with an imagined smile. “What can I do for you, Mr. McFarland?” Hopefully her tone had the right amount of distant politeness without sounding offensive.

  “Cutler. Remember?”

  “All right, Cutler.”

  “I believe the question was what can I do for you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “It’s simple. Have dinner with me.”

  His unexpected invitation took her so aback that for a second Kaylee was at a loss for words. She hadn’t had much time to wonder why he was calling, but dinner would never have occurred to her no matter how much advance notice she’d had.

  “Are you there?”

  “I’m here,” she responded, desperately trying to regain a semblance of control. In her mind’s eye she could picture him looking relaxed, sitting at his desk, his boots resting on the edge of it.

  Like a cobra ready to strike.

  “So, how ’bout it?” he pressed.

  Kaylee jerked herself back to the moment at hand. “No can do, but thanks anyway.”

  A significant pause. “Maybe another time.”

  “Maybe,” Kaylee said, hearing the slight tremor in her voice.

  Another pause.

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  The next thing she knew she was holding the receiver with the dial tone assaulting her ears. Feeling as if she’d just gotten off a roller coaster, Kaylee slowly hung up the phone, then sat unmoving, waiting for her stomach to settle. Had she heard him right? Had he actually asked her out?

  Absolutely. But why her, when he could have any woman he wanted? Even though she’d had no confirmation that he was a ladies’ man, her instinct told her that he was. For all she knew, he might even be a married one, though she didn’t think so. It would be so easy to find out details about him, but she didn’t want to. Cutler McFarland was not for her and she was not for him.

  While his invitation was flattering, if not the stuff dreams were made of, she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of even considering such a move.

  Once he learned her limitations, he would lose interest.

  That had happened during her senior year in college. She had met a guy at a friend’s birthday party. Even after he’d seen her in her brace, he had kept after her to go out with him. Because he’d made her feel good about herself for the first time since the accident, she had thrown caution to the wind and acquiesced.

  Their relationship had been great. In the beginning. Only after their friendship blossomed into something more did things turn sour. She hated thinking about the crushing moment she’d prayed to die, aching to be released from the torment that raged inside her.

  They had been in his car one evening at twilight, headed to another party, when Kenny Johnson had pulled off the road into a secluded area, grabbed her and kissed her. Shock had been her first reaction, and she had stiffened like a piece of wood in his arms.

  “Hey, baby, relax and enjoy,” he whispered against her lips. “I’ve been wanting to do this a long time.”

  “Oh, Kenny, I don’t know. I…I don’t know—”

  “Sure you do,” he countered passionately, kissing her hard while thrusting his tongue into her mouth. “You want me as much as I want you.”

  He was right; she wanted him. She wanted to learn more about that crazy feeling that made her head spin and her body melt. So she went limp in his arms and returned his kisses with a passion that had both shaken and frightened her.

  She’d heard her friends talk about making out, about what they did with their boyfriends, but because she’d never had one, she had been ignorant. When given the opportunity to change all that, to be accepted by her peers, she wasn’t ab
out to snub the invitation.

  It was when he began fumbling with the buttons on her blouse that panic had nibbled around the edges of her subconscious. “I don’t think—”

  “Shh,” he said in a scolding tone. “It’s okay, baby. You and me are going to have a little fun. I promise you’re going to love it, too.”

  With his mouth still devouring hers, Kenny finished un-buttoning her blouse and unzipping her jeans. She had been so taken with the feel of his mouth and the fact that someone actually wanted her that it was a long moment before she realized he was no longer holding her, that he had pushed her to arm’s length.

  It was then that she stared at him through wide, dazed eyes, and saw the look of horror on his face.

  With a muted cry Kaylee recoiled, but couldn’t stop herself from looking down, seeing her body through his eyes.

  Nausea replaced her panic, rendering her useless. Finally, though, she found the wherewithal to cover herself and back as far away from him as she could possibly get.

  “God, what happened to you?” he asked, continuing to look at her as if she were a freak out of a circus sideshow.

  Her heart, already mangled, twisted to the breaking point. Yet from somewhere deep inside, she pulled together the broken strings of her pride and said with amazing strength, “Please take me home.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Don’t…don’t say anything. It doesn’t matter. Believe me, I understand.” Her voice was barely audible. “I just want to go home.”

  Kenny hadn’t argued. Once she’d struggled out of the car and reached the sanctuary of the apartment she shared with two other girls, she had locked her bedroom door, lain across the bed and sobbed until her entire body jerked with fatigue.

  Then she got angry, angry at God for letting the accident happen, and angry at herself for being such a stupid idiot. She rolled off the bed, picked up the first item in view and tossed it across the room. The shattering sound of glass brought her back to her senses, revealing that she had broken the one picture of her mother and daddy that she most treasured.