by Julie Miller
Kenna knew what he was asking. “The BED file. Brian Elliott. The Rose Red Rapist.”
Keir crossed to the door and opened it. “We know he didn’t send the letters with the rose petals, because they’d be marked with a prison stamp. And he didn’t make those calls, because the prison would have a record of them.”
“And he couldn’t be the man in the hoodie watching me, because he’s locked up in Jefferson City.”
“But he could easily hire someone to do the work for him.”
Steeling her shoulders on a resigned breath, Kenna grabbed her keys and moved into the hallway ahead of him, preceding him down the long hallway to the file storage room. “Technically, he’s still my client, so I won’t be able to show you the file.”
“Are any of the contacts, victims or witnesses in his file your clients?”
“No.”
“I’ve got that list of everybody who’s visited Elliott in the past three months. While you’re reading files, I’ll start making phone calls. All I need are names, and then I can do the legwork to check alibis and criminal histories and find out who has a grudge against you.”
Kenna was sorely afraid of just how long that list might be.
Nearly half an hour later, Kenna was hugging an armload of file folders to her chest when she and Keir left the storage room. “I feel like I’m back in law school,” she said, waiting for Keir to lock the door behind him before heading to the boardroom, where they could spread out at the conference table. “Toting around case files I have to memorize for Professor Owenson’s class.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry those for you?”
“It’s a conflict of interest for a police officer—”
“What’s he doing here?” Kenna stopped short when the compact, blond-haired man who’d been conversing with Hellie at the reception counter charged down the hallway to meet her. The accusing finger he’d pointed at Keir swung toward her. “Conspiring with the enemy?”
The man was middle-aged, angry and completely unfamiliar to her. “Excuse me?”
“Kenna?” Keir stepped up beside her to make the introduction. “This is Andrew Colbern.”
Shock drew her back half a step as she sorted through her memories for an earlier consultation that would make the sneering expression spark a recognition in her. She looked over at Keir, knowing this man’s trial was a point of conflict between them. But the only hint that this unexpected meeting might have poked that sore point was for Keir to shift his posture, splaying his fingers at his waist, possibly reminding the other man that he wore a gun, or maybe just relaxing his stance to show the other man he wasn’t intimidated by him.
“There’s no way he’s attending this meeting,” Colbern announced, either uncaring or unaware of Keir subtly nudging his shoulder in front of Kenna. “He’s the cop who tricked me into saying I wanted to have Devon killed.”
Hellie placed a hand on Colbern’s arm. “Andrew, as your attorney, I advise you not to say anything in front of Detective Watson.”
Kenna was having a hard time getting up to speed on this conversation. But she knew a manipulation when she saw one. She looked past Dr. Colbern to Hellie. “You set up this meeting as soon as I hung up after asking you to let me into the office. You know I’m not ready to deal with clients.”
“Somebody better be,” Colbern warned. “I want to know what you’re going to do to get this stain off my reputation. Do you know how many of my patients have canceled appointments since I was arrested? Devon has a lot of social contacts, and I know that witch is spreading lies about me.”
Keir’s voice remained calm. “You’re talking about a PR campaign, Colbern, not legal action. That’s not Ms. Parker’s area of expertise.”
“Why are you even talking to me, Watson? How is this any of your business?”
“Kenna Parker is my business.”
Colbern’s blue-eyed gaze darted between Kenna and Keir. “Oh, so it’s like that, is it?”
“Dr. Colbern is our client,” Hellie emphasized, steering the conversation away from Keir. “I wanted to reassure him that we’re ready to move forward to block his wife’s civil suit.”
“But we’re not. I’m not,” Kenna reminded him.
“But we will be,” Hellie insisted. His brown eyes narrowed with a silent message she didn’t care to read. “I have a plan of action mapped out. I just need you to confer—add your two cents, as it were.”
“Two cents? Ha.” Andrew Colbern’s snort was filled with bitterness. “With what this firm is costing me, I ought to be getting a lot more advice than that.”
Kenna wasn’t sure if her gut was telling her to be leery of Dr. Colbern or Hellie. But she knew she didn’t want to deal with either man’s attitude right now. “I’m sorry, gentlemen.” She lifted the files she carried. “But I’m in the middle of a project. Doctor, why don’t you call my assistant tomorrow and make an appointment for later in the week?”
“Don’t bother, Andrew.”
Kenna read the flush of temper brewing beneath Hellie’s tan cheeks.
“I have my car downstairs. What do you say to an early dinner, and you and I can discuss your wife’s threats there?”
“Let’s just reschedule when Kenna’s available.” The doctor shook his head, eyeing Keir. “I may not like the company she keeps, but I think we need her input on how we’re going to move forward against Devon. This afternoon was a waste of my time.”
“Very well.” Hellie fixed that bright white smile on his face, but the door was already closing on Andrew Colbern’s emphatic exit. “I’ll call you.”
Kenna was suddenly very tired. Maybe she’d overtaxed her energy level too soon after being in the hospital. And maybe this was the kind of stress she’d wanted to talk to Barbara Jean about. Perhaps she did need to consider her friend’s offer to work for a smaller firm.
“How dare you embarrass me like that in front of a client?” Hellie seized Kenna by the shoulders, shaking loose two of the folders she carried. “Bringing your boy toy to work—”
“Hey, pal.” Keir snatched Hellie by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, earning a grunt of pain as he pulled him away from Kenna. “You don’t threaten the lady.”
Surprised by both Hellie’s outburst and Keir’s swift response, Kenna stooped down to retrieve the folders from the floor. “It was presumptuous of you to arrange a meeting without informing me, Hellie. Are you so worried you can’t win a case without me on the team? Or that you’re going to lose a client?”
“I’m not worried about anything.” Hellie shrugged off Keir’s hold as soon as the younger man loosened his grip. “Except maybe your choice in men.” He grabbed his umbrella and raincoat off the reception counter where he’d left a puddle of water on the carpet beneath and strode toward the door. “I thought I knew you, that I could count on you the way I counted on your father. But you’ve changed. Don’t call me for any more favors until you’ve come to your senses.”
Once the elevator door had closed behind Hellie, Keir turned back to Kenna. “Do you still believe that conniver couldn’t snap and lose his temper?”
Chapter Nine
Kenna’s growling stomach startled her awake. Her chin slipped off her hand and she was painfully aware of the throbbing in her wrist after bending it back at the unnatural angle to support her head. It took a few seconds to orient herself to her surroundings. Folders and paperwork stacked in various piles across the long conference table. Rain pattering at the window. Grinning man watching her from the end of the table.
“Please tell me I wasn’t drooling.”
Keir set down his phone and the ink pen he’d been using. “Nothing significant.”
She tossed a wad of paper at him. “Very funny.”
He caught it and tossed it right back befo
re checking the time. “We’ve been at this for three hours, and Dr. McBride said you should take it easy for a while. Ready to call it a day?”
“Did we find any viable suspects?”
“A few.” He picked up the legal pad he’d borrowed to record notes from the phone calls he’d made and thumbed through several pages of yellow paper to reveal all the names he’d been able to cross off from the lists they’d generated. “Between Hud and me and my sister, Liv, we’re narrowing it down. The women Brian Elliott preyed on whom we’ve been able to reach thus far have solid alibis for three to five p.m. on Friday, so we can rule them out as your attacker.”
“Do you really think a woman could do this to me?”
“If she subdued you somehow—drugged you, or a blitz attack. We shouldn’t automatically rule out the possibility.” He read the first names on the page where he’d stopped. “April King. She was working her shift at Truman Medical Center.” He picked up the pen and scratched through her name. “Tabitha and Ezekiel Rule—the victim and her husband—were involved in a fender bender out near Lenexa. State Patrol has them on the scene for several hours.” He scratched those names out, too. “Genie D’Angelo—committed suicide two years after Elliott sexually assaulted her.”
“How horrible.” When he scratched out the last young woman’s name, Kenna’s heart twisted with guilt. It was difficult to uphold the law and ensure due process for everyone when faced with a loss like that. “What about the family members or friends who blame me for defending the man who hurt their loved ones? Does anyone stand out there?”
“That’s a bigger list. But we’ll keep hitting the Rose Red Rapist angle, since you seemed suspicious of Brian Elliott before your amnesia.” Keir flipped the legal pad back to its first page and stood. “By the way, I went with my gut and checked out Hellie Bond’s alibi. He was more than happy to tell me how wrong I am. But it’s sketchy at best. He claims he went for a drive in the country. Alone. Said his girl left town and he was missing her.”
“You’re so determined it’s him.” Kenna rolled her chair away from the table and pushed to her feet. Could someone she saw nearly every day of her life, someone her father had trusted, someone who claimed he cared for her, really be so insecure or vindictive that he’d spend months trying to drive her crazy or leave her scarred for life? “I would have thought Andrew Colbern resented me more than Hellie ever could. Until today. Maybe he does have motive to send me rose petals to remind me of my biggest and most unpopular case—to make me paranoid and second-guess every choice I make—to put me off my game just when Arthur is about to name one of us senior partner.” She picked up one of the files and straightened the papers before closing it. “Maybe there’s someone in every file here who wants me to crack up or bow out of the human race or simply fail at getting the things I want.”
Keir placed his hand on top of the folders Kenna was stacking to return to the storage room. “Do you want to be a senior partner?”
Kenna honestly didn’t know the answer to that question anymore. “I thought I was breaking through some kind of glass ceiling, making a statement for women, and I was proud of that. I felt I deserved the promotion and worked hard to bring in big-money clients. I wanted it because that’s what my father always envisioned for me, and I loved the idea of honoring his legacy.”
“If you want it, go for it. And don’t let Helmut Bond or whoever this bastard is stop you from being who you want to be. He’s one man, and he doesn’t get to win. If your dream changes and you want something else, you’ll be a success at that, too, because that’s who you are. The Kenna I’ve gotten to know doesn’t settle for halfway or second best. I can’t imagine any father not being proud of that legacy.” He gestured to the remaining folders strewn across the table. “And don’t forget that there are good people in these files you’ve helped, too. Maybe their names don’t make headlines like a billionaire with a sexual depravity. But they’re there. Innocent people who needed a champion to represent them. Not everybody in these files wants to hurt you. You may have more friends out there than you think.”
Heartened by the rallying show of support, empowered in a way that only this man seemed to manage, Kenna threw her arms around Keir’s neck and hugged him tight. She turned her lips to the collar of his white button-down shirt and kissed the warm beat of his pulse. “Thank you.”
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his ample heat and sealing the embrace.
“I don’t know if you’re always like this, or if you’re only like this with me at this moment, but you said what I needed to hear. I think that I’m a strong woman. But you make me stronger. Be sure to add that to the list of things I owe you for.”
Kenna kissed the corner of his firm mouth. With an eager moan, Keir curved his mouth over hers to accept and deepen the invitation. Sliding her fingers into his hair, Kenna had every intention of taking up where every other potent kiss between them had left off. But another noisy grumble in her stomach vibrated between them. With a sound that was half laugh and half sigh of regret, Keir pulled his lips from hers. He rested his forehead against hers and looked down into her eyes. “One day, woman, we’re going to finish this.”
His voice was raw and deep, and the promise behind it left her embarrassingly weak in the knees. “I’m going to hold you to that promise.”
He pressed a warm, ticklish kiss to the end of her nose, then pulled away entirely. “In the meantime, I’d better feed you.”
“Are you going to treat me to some of Millie’s cooking again?”
Keir pulled his jacket off the back of his chair and shrugged into it. “I’d be just as happy to go to your place and heat up that leftover casserole.”
“Why don’t we swing past Balthazar’s and get a couple of cups of java to go on the way?” she suggested. “We could ask a few questions of any staff or customers who might have seen someone following me Friday afternoon.”
“You’re relentless. Did anyone ever tell you you’d make one heck of a cop?”
“Never.”
He laughed out loud and that made her smile. This man made her feel like teasing and laughing and smiling again, instead of hiding in her big, empty house and maintaining rigid control over every aspect of her life.
“All right. Balthazar’s it is.” He kissed her temple, then circled around the table and out the door. “Gather up what you need. We can read through the rest of these at the house. I’ll go bring the car around so you don’t get soaked. Lock up and meet me down at the front door.”
Moving with a lighter step than she had had all day, Kenna quickly gathered up the folders that were ready to be refiled and locked them in the storage room. She grabbed a tote bag from her office closet and hurried back to the boardroom to pack Keir’s notes and the remaining case files.
As she was closing one of the files she’d kept on her defense of Austin Meade—a former crime boss’s nephew, who’d been more of an embarrassment than a success in the defunct family business—a sheet of white paper caught her eye. It wasn’t a transcript of a deposition or a handwritten note. It wasn’t a photograph. A little tremor of apprehension shivered through her as she reached for the blank page and pulled it out. If there was one rose petal... Only, it wasn’t a plain sheet of paper, after all. Kenna’s relief blossomed into curiosity when she saw the small pencil drawing of a geometric figure, hastily drawn in the top left corner.
She remembered this image.
But how? From where?
Although it was basically a rectangular shape, the edges were scalloped and there were several caret-shaped marks drawn in the blank space around the design inside the rectangle. Two lines swooshed toward a small circle that sat off-center, and was surrounded by eight points of a star. “It’s a spur. A spur off a cowboy boot.”
She didn’t know any cowboys, did she? What did the symbol mean?
Knowing that Keir would be coming for her soon, she went to the bank of windows to look out. Groups of people were hurrying down the sidewalk, and traffic was backing up in the street. The event at Bartle Hall or one of the theaters must have let out. And with the rain still coming down and people eager to get into dry cars and go home, no one seemed particularly anxious to let anyone else merge into traffic. She wanted to show the drawing to Keir. She wanted to see if it struck a familiar chord with him, too. But she couldn’t see the black Charger anywhere. He probably had to drive around the block to get to the front of the building.
Eager to show him her discovery, Kenna locked up the offices and rode the elevator down to the first floor. She waited inside the lobby doors, amused by the people hurrying by with their raincoats and umbrellas, and those without protection from the elements hurrying by even faster. She was keeping one eye out for Keir and mentally scanning through her Swiss cheese brain for the significance of the spur to fall into place when she gradually became aware that not everyone was rushing through the rain.
There was one person standing perfectly still. One person watching. Watching her.
Her heart beating a stitch faster, her chest expanding and contracting with quicker breaths, she scanned both sides of the street, up and down the block, until she zeroed in on the absence of movement. There. Lurking in the shadows at the entrance to the parking garage across the street.
The faceless man in the black hoodie.
Her lips parted to take a deeper breath as an urgent sense of being singled out for some evil purpose fluttered through her pulse. Kenna recoiled a step from the shadowed face that was still there each time a pedestrian walked past or a car drove by. She was afraid. She was so damn tired of being afraid. She needed to make it stop.
He doesn’t get to win.
Keir’s vehement words resonated in her head, tamping down the fear. All this guy did was show up where she was, and watch. She’d seen him twice now. And he’d probably been there a third time when Keir spotted him near the alley where he’d found her. Maybe Hoodie Guy had followed her more often and she just hadn’t noticed. His strength was in the shadows, in his anonymity. Well, she could take that advantage away with one simple task. She was a strong woman. She took action. She wasn’t giving this faceless stranger the chance to terrorize her again.
