Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Yeah. And there’s history there.” He went into a brief explanation about Collin’s behavior in the past. When he saw the skeptical look on Holloway’s face, he said, “Check it out, if you don’t believe me. She’s called the police on him twice.”

  “I’m sure you’re aware the Boyd, Geller, and Gatz families are very powerful, not just in this city but the entire state. I need to make certain that this accusation isn’t motivated by some vendetta you two have cooked up to get back at the Boyd family for whatever reason.”

  Red fury ran through Jake like a swift current. He inched further into Holloway’s space. “Do your job, Detective, that’s all I’m asking. For once, stop thinking about the political power the family wields and go after the bad guys.” With that, he turned on his heels and went back inside Kit’s room.

  When Kit looked up and saw he was alone, a smile brightened her bruised face, and she asked, “Where’s Holloway?”

  “Gone.”

  “You got rid of him?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows up and down and then grinned at her. “Sure, was there ever any doubt?”

  Oh God, but she loved this man. The drugs made her blurt out, “My hero. I dreamed last night you told me you loved me.”

  Gently, he sat back down on the bed, putting both of his hands down on opposite sides of her pillows. Leaning over her, inches from her mouth, he whispered, “It was no dream.”

  Kit swallowed hard. Dry mouth took over. The drugs were coursing through her veins. This really was a fantasy. She was dreaming again. That had to be it. She’d play along. “Okay. So if you really feel that way, I’m awake now. Say it again.”

  “I love you, Kit.”

  How long had she waited to hear him say that? It seemed like forever. As if absorbing the shock of it, all she could say was, “No one’s ever told me that before.”

  “You know, I may be relatively new at this, but when I tell you I love you, I’m pretty sure there’s something you’re supposed to say back to me.”

  “Well. Geez.” She threw her one good left arm around his neck, drew his mouth down to hers, and planted a sloppy kiss on his mouth. When she pulled back, she told him, “I thought you knew already. I love you. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since I was fourteen.”

  He kissed her mouth, lingered there, and then rested his forehead on hers. “That thing at fourteen was a crush. I hope you aren’t going to tell me you still feel like that.”

  “It’s the real thing, all right. You don’t think I could have fallen in love with you at fourteen?”

  “Not a chance.” He had so much love stored up for her that it scared him. His head was telling him to take a step back, but his heart was saying go for it. And since he’d never felt this way before, he decided to follow his heart straight over the falls. His mind had wandered and he realized she was talking.

  “Why? Because I was too immature to know my own mind or because you were such an arrogant ass back then?” Seeing the surprised look on his face, she laughed. “Well, you were an ass; don’t even try to argue the point.”

  “Arrogant? Maybe. An ass? Never.” He grinned. “That was a long time ago though. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. This…it’s…scary.”

  “Scary? Now that’s what every woman wants to hear when she’s come out of a mini-coma. Scary isn’t very romantic.” She giggled. “Next, you’ll be telling me that maybe there’s an antidote out there somewhere and you’re leaving on a crusade to find it.”

  She’d no sooner spoken when she saw the hurt look in his eyes. She tried to lighten the mood. “It’s the drugs. They’re making me say things I normally wouldn’t say, think crazy thoughts.”

  “I admit your being in the hospital isn’t exactly the ideal time to tell you for the first time I’m in love with you. I should have said it sooner.”

  “You’re sure what you’re feeling is love then and not pity?”

  “Are you sure what you’re feeling isn’t the drugs talking?”

  “Okay, fair question. I’m a little loopy, but I’m in love with you right back. We’re in love with each other. I like the sound of that.”

  Just then, the door to Kit’s room opened and a man walked in that Kit had never seen before. Great. Just what they needed was another cop to drag this special moment down into a deep abyss. But Jake calmly looked over at the man who was dressed in an Oxford shirt and dress pants on a Sunday afternoon and said, “Took you long enough.”

  Reese wasn’t comfortable watching his friend hover over the blonde. In spite of the purple bruises and the bandaged look, it didn’t take a blind man to see how attractive she was, and how, according to Dylan, Jake had taken the fall―again.

  What was it about a beautiful woman with a great looking-body that turned a smart, successful man into a blithering idiot who couldn’t or wouldn’t protect his own interests? Reese didn’t trust the woman. And now it seemed she was days away from being arrested for murdering her own mother. In Reese’s estimation, Jake had taken a giant step down from the gold-digging Claire. Reese wanted nothing more than to keep his distance while at the same time inject Jake with a little common sense serum, make him see what she was really after…his money. But at some point today things had changed. Reese found himself getting pulled into the middle of the fray by an old nemesis. He was less than pleased with the turn of events.

  Kit noticed the man looked slightly annoyed and seemed tense, but what came out of his mouth alarmed her.

  “Apparently, I came by to meet my new client. Maybe I should tell you about my very interesting morning. First, Dylan called, said I might want to stop by, talk about you putting Jordan Donovan to work. Then I was just pulling into the hospital parking lot when I got a call from a very pissed off Max St. John not five minutes ago wanting to set up an interview the moment Kit’s well enough to leave the hospital. He figures if she’s well enough to go home, she’s well enough to talk to the police. Officially. I had to wing my response, which of course was not only clever but brilliant. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. But since I’m the best damn criminal lawyer in southern California, I told him I had everything under control.”

  As Reese watched Jake plant a kiss on Kit’s bruised lips, he added, “When you’re done with her mouth there, Jake, I need to confer with my client.”

  “Meet Reese Brennan, your lawyer,” Jake said.

  At that, Kit’s face lost all color…again. “I need a lawyer? Oh my God, they do plan to arrest me.”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it,” Reese said emphatically. And he meant it. Reese might not trust Kit Griffin, but he disliked the bulldog detective Max St. John ten times more. After spending two years sparring with St. John over Jake’s troubles, Reese had no intention of walking away from a fight.

  “That’s why I’m here. That’s why… when St. John threw down a challenge…” But Reese stopped in mid-sentence when Quinn entered the room. Completely distracted, his preplanned speech derailed as he gaped at the exotic resident doctor he’d seen only briefly last night. The woman had an athletic body, long black hair, and the biggest brown eyes he’d ever seen. Reese stared at her as if he’d been on a desert island for a year and she was his first meal. He had trouble finishing his thought and actually stammered, “…uh…uh…”

  “Just wanted to check on you before I start my shift,” Quinn said, as she came all the way into the room. The moment she realized Kit was upset, her gaze landed on the man who couldn’t form a complete sentence. Giving him a sharp, accusing look, she asked, “What did you do to upset her?”

  He found he could speak after all. “Me? Not a thing. I’m here to save the day. We haven’t met. I’m Reese Brennan, Kit’s attorney.” Impeccable manners had him holding out his hand to the resident in polite introductory fashion.

  All Quinn heard was that he was Kit’s attorney. At the news, her eyes went wide. Ignoring the outstretched hand of the attorney, Quinn automatically grabbed hold of Kit’
s.

  Confused about what was happening, she turned to Jake. “Why does she need a lawyer? Collin tries to kill her with a car and she’s the one who needs a lawyer. That’s bullshit.”

  “Holloway was here. They still won’t come off the idea that she killed Alana.”

  “When I inherit her money, I’m their best bet, Quinn. I’m the most likely suspect.” Kit said.

  Quinn turned icy eyes on the lawyer. “What are you going to do about this? You can’t just let them arrest an innocent person. She had nothing to do with Alana’s death. If you can’t make them understand that, then you aren’t much good to us, are you?”

  She let go of Kit’s hand long enough to poke Reese’s chest. “She didn’t murder Alana. If you’re any good, you need to hire an investigator, dig into Alana’s past, and keep Kit the fuck out of jail.”

  For an instant, the passion he saw in those chocolate brown eyes had him wanting to make promises he might have trouble keeping if St. John had his way. One thing a criminal lawyer learns early on is not to make promises he might not be able to keep. Instead of promising her anything, Reese simply said, “I’ll do everything within my power to keep her out of jail. But St. John wants an interview the minute she’s released.”

  But Quinn demanded more. “Are you any good?”

  Reese wasn’t insulted, but took the question as an opportunity to tout his own abilities. “They never arrested Jake, now did they?”

  Puzzled, Quinn looked down at Kit. “Why would they want to arrest Jake?”

  Kit’s head wanted to explode. She suddenly felt tired and looked into Jake’s eyes, found the go-ahead to tell Quinn about Claire. If Quinn needed to hear about Jake’s troubled past, Kit thought it might sound better coming from her. So she went into a brief account, telling Jake’s story for him.

  When she’d finished, it sounded to Quinn as if the two were mirrored bookends. Having watched Kit over the past two weeks struggle with being a murder suspect, Quinn looked at Jake now with newfound respect.

  And an idea blossomed.

  Turning to Reese, Quinn suggested, “So if St. John wants an interview whenever she leaves the hospital, what say we arrange to keep her a few extra days until we can prep her, get her ready for the best damned interview of her life?”

  Jake stood up a little straighter. “You mean keep her in the hospital until she’s stronger, more confident, and ready to face St. John on our terms. That’s not half bad, Quinn.”

  “In the meantime, we start with a strategy session here and now, today. We’ve got the lawyer here and who knows when that will happen again.” Quinn gave Reese a disgusted look that said she didn’t care much for his profession, glanced at her watch, and said, “I have to go on the clock in thirty. You’ve got me for half an hour before I have to be in the ER. After that, you can page me and I’ll come up on a need-to basis. If we don’t finish today then we set up another round for tomorrow and the next day.”

  She smiled at Kit. “It’ll be just like cramming for an exam. I’ll call Baylee; get her on board with the plan.”

  To Jake, she reminded him, “We’ve been there with her through most of it. We’ll get Kit in top form so she’ll be ready to go one-on-one with this St. John guy.”

  Quinn turned to Kit and softened. “I know you’re reluctant to tell the police everything, but girl, it’s time to kick a little ass here. You have to set this St. John straight about all of it. If you can’t do it alone, then Baylee and I will insist on being with you during the interview, verify everything just the way we did with Dr. Strasburg.”

  Upbeat now for the first time since walking through the door, Quinn added, “Dr. Strasburg would be another good source, a go-to guy for the defense if it comes to that. He’ll be more than willing to testify on Kit’s behalf.”

  Kit laughed, feeling somewhat better about her situation. “Guys, meet Super Quinn. Hard to believe she gets her degree in three years, goes to med school, graduates with honors, and now, she’s the newest resident at the ripe old age of twenty-five.”

  “Twenty-five?” Reese looked stupefied.

  Ignoring the interest she saw in his eyes, Quinn gave the lawyer a go-to-hell look she’d honed over the years to ward off all comers.

  Jake, on the other hand, wasn’t so forgiving after Reese’s comments yesterday. He’d watched Reese become a blithering idiot the minute Quinn had walked into the room, so he went around the bed, slapped Reese on the back, whispered in his ear, “Don’t even think about it old man, she’s clearly way too young for you, don’t you think?”

  Reese’s response was an elbow shot to Jake’s ribs, which he managed to dodge like a boxer. The minor scuffle caused raised eyebrows from the women, a purely female reaction that said there was too much testosterone floating around the room.

  Reese continued. “Well, I’d hoped this initial meeting would be a bit more private, but I can see that isn’t going to happen. The truth is we’ll make more progress when everything’s out in the open anyway. And the more I know, the better I can serve my client. I have a ton of questions, though, so let’s get started.”

  Over the next three hours, Reese wasn’t sure what he’d expected Kit to say, but he certainly hadn’t expected to hear the story she told about her childhood. All the jokes they’d cracked in the attic the day before about the porn queen didn’t come close to portraying Alana Stevens as a mother. At times Reese had trouble keeping up, but with Quinn backing up Kit’s story whenever necessary from the third grade on, Reese sat there appalled by what he heard.

  And when Quinn had to leave to start her shift, whenever Kit needed help remembering some essential detail there was Baylee Scott, the petite brunette with the baby from last night, picking up the narrative and was able to go even further back than Quinn to when Kit was age five, providing more confirmation.

  By the end of the third hour, the mistrust Reese had felt earlier for Kit had dissipated into sheer respect. She’d not only answered his questions in straightforward fashion, but she’d alleviated any remaining doubt he might have had that she had murdered her mother. It was apparent there’d been no typical Beverly Hills upbringing for Kit Griffin but rather a chilling real-life horror she’d finally escaped at the age of sixteen.

  When it was done, Jake planted a kiss on a tired and drowsy Kit. “You did great, honey. Now get some sleep.”

  “Will you be back in the morning?”

  “I’ll be back in ten minutes. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Jake, you can’t spend another night sleeping in a chair. You have to get some rest.”

  “How about if we argue about this when I get back? I’ll walk Reese and Baylee to the elevator and be right back. We can fight about it then.”

  “We don’t fight.”

  “I know. Now go to sleep.” He kissed her again and walked out of the room with Reese and Baylee.

  When they got outside in the hallway, it was Baylee who cross-examined Reese. “What are her chances? I mean, how do you think she came across? It’s the first time in about four years that she’s actually talked about it and certainly never like that in one sitting from beginning to end. How do you think she did?”

  “She did fine. She might need a little work on relaxing. But given the subject material, I know it must be difficult for her to talk about it.”

  Baylee looked mortified. “The woman’s on drugs, Reese. If you don’t think she’s relaxed enough now, what are her chances when she talks to St. John minus the IV drip? You know, when St. John finds out about Kit’s childhood, it’ll only help build his case.”

  Baylee shook her head. “Every instinct I have tells me we’re going about this all wrong. We have to search Alana’s past. As mean as she was, she had to have pissed off any number of people over the years. We should be concentrating on Alana.”

  Reese assured her, “And we will. For starters, that stuff we found yesterday in the attic—like the porn—can be used in our favor. If it comes to that, I won�
�t think twice about putting this particular woman’s past on trial.”

  “Porn?” Baylee eyed Jake, suspiciously. “You asked about adult parties; you didn’t say anything about porn. You found honest-to-God porn in Alana’s attic? What else did you find we might be able to use?”

  Jake ran his fingers through his hair and ticked off the list of things in the safe.

  “You found Kit’s birth certificate?” Baylee asked.

  Just then, Quinn walked up on her break. Not even a third of the way into her long shift, she had more energy than all of them combined and proved it by shooting them rapid fire questions. “How’d it go after I left? Did she tell you all of it? How’s she feeling? I better go check on her. How’d she do anyway?”

  “Okay,” was all a deflated Baylee had to say and the look on her face told Quinn something was wrong.

  “What happened?” Quinn shot Reese a dubious glare. “Don’t tell me she couldn’t talk about it?”

  “Oh, she talked about it. I don’t know about these guys, but I’m sick to my stomach from having to listen to it all over again. I thought after all these years, it wouldn’t still have this effect on me, but I was wrong. Right now, I’d like to put my fist through the wall because Reese says that if she’s honest about all of it, we’re likely handing St. John a reason to charge her. And get this, they found porn in Alana’s attic. Now that doesn’t surprise me in the least. But why would Kit’s birth certificate be locked away in a safe?”

  “What?” All at once Quinn grabbed Baylee’s arm. “Oh my God, Baylee, you said her parents were never married, right? You don’t suppose that one day Alana felt a tiny maternal quiver and actually went out and adopted a child, do you? You know, like the real Mommie Dearest? Weren’t Joan Crawford’s kids adopted?”

  Baylee went white. “Come to think of it, that would explain a lot. Now that you bring it up, I remember when Kit applied to college there was some issue with her birth certificate. Alana said she couldn’t locate the real deal and Kit thought it was just a stall tactic to make it more difficult for her to get into school. The birth certificate issue held up Kit’s paperwork and she almost had to sit out the first semester. But at the eleventh hour, Alana sent it over by special messenger. Remember? Kit must still have a copy somewhere at home; if not, the registrar’s office would.”