by Kylie Brant
She gasped. His words were all the more devastating for their dispassionate delivery.
“He lost his arm to just above the elbow. The doctors and cops said he was lucky to be alive. He went through three surgeries and I don’t know how many skin grafts. And the worst part of the whole thing was knowing he’d been hurt because of me. Because Mannen had wanted me out of the way.”
Now she understood the reason for his palpable hatred of the other man. She also understood, too well, the thread of guilt in his tone.
“The story?”
He seemed to come back to her then, with an almost physical shift. “Won my first Pulitzer. My dad was at the ceremony, and as soon as I got back to my seat I handed the award to him. He’s…” He shook his head, as if words failed him. “He’s the greatest man I know. I was proud to win for him, but I won’t stop until Mannen pays for what he did.”
Unconsciously she reached for his hand, squeezed. “He really hates you. What’s to stop him from trying to kill you again?”
The concern in her voice, in her touch, warmed something inside him. “When I told the police about the connection between my case and Mannen, they were all over him. Couldn’t pin the bomb on him, of course, but he doesn’t like the attention. Makes it difficult to conduct his business.” But he had no doubt that the man was merely biding his time.
“He isn’t going to get the chance to hurt anyone again.” The words were a promise, perhaps the only one she could give him. “This time we’ll stop him.”
He threaded his fingers with hers. “Yeah.” He released an explosive breath and raised her fingers to his lips. “We will.”
When they entered the office, Song looked up, her welcoming smile instantly fading, eyes going wide with concern. “Ms. Jacobs! You look…” She must have caught the warning shake of Dare’s head, because she swallowed the rest of the sentence and said instead, “Are you sure you’re well enough to work today?”
A.J. pretended she didn’t know exactly how Song had intended to complete her original sentence. “I’m fine.” She made a credible attempt at a smile. “Rather glad that you had the foresight to start looking for me as soon as you did.” She gave the woman a heartfelt smile. “Thank you.”
Song swallowed hard and nodded. “I’m glad everything turned out okay.”
“A.J.” Dennis Beardmore paused theatrically in the office doorway before striding toward her, taking her chin in his hand and turning her face to either side. “I think you understated your injuries. Are you certain you should have returned to work so soon?”
“I’m sure.” What she was most certain of, however, was how quickly she was becoming tired of the attention. Unobtrusively she freed herself from his grip. “Actually you’re just the person I need to see. I want to update you on some new developments in the Delgado case.”
He frowned. “I think we could have spared you for a few more days. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. Simply terrible. I’m going to run a tough-on-crime platform, you can count on that.” It was plain his words were more for Dare’s benefit than her own.
She managed, barely, to avoid rolling her eyes. Trust Beardmore to take even her circumstances and use them for his own gain. No doubt he was hoping Dare would pounce on his not-quite-accidental slip and provide his possible candidacy some valuable news space.
If that was his hope, he was doomed to disappointment. Dare said only, “Not to worry, Dennis. One perpetrator was arrested on the spot, and it’s just a matter of time before his accomplice is picked up.” He gave a bland smile at the other man’s obviously chagrined expression. “I know you must be worried about one of Addie’s attackers still being on the loose.”
“Of course.” Dennis was nothing if not diplomatic. The expression he turned on A.J. oozed concern. “I hope you’ll be very careful until the other man is caught.”
It appeared that everyone she came into contact with today was going to drown her in sympathy. She found she didn’t care to be the recipient. Crisply she said, “Do you have any time right now? Dare has some information you really should hear.”
“McKay?” Beardmore gave the reporter a speculative glance. “Of course. Let’s go into my office.” Before turning to follow the other attorney out the door, A.J. told Song, “Get hold of Stanley and have him meet us. If he misses this, I’m never going to hear the end of it.”
The walls in Beardmore’s office were covered with his framed degrees, commendations and pictures of him with various politicians and local leaders. The display was, she thought, an altar to his ambition. She seated herself at the long conference table, and Dare sat beside her, both facing Dennis. In the next moment there was a knock, and the door opened to reveal Mark Stanley.
He checked himself midstride, gaping at her. “My God…”
“You’re just in time, Mark.” She was completely out of patience with well-meaning expressions of solicitude. “If you’ll take a seat…?”
Encompassing Beardmore and Stanley with her gaze, she said, “The day before yesterday Mr. McKay discovered some information that may well change the direction of the Delgado case. I’d like you to listen to what he has to say, and then we can discuss our next actions.”
“Really, A.J.” Mark frowned. “This is highly irregular. I don’t see what—”
“Let’s hear McKay out,” Dennis said, cutting the attorney off. “I, for one, am interested in what he’s got that’s so urgent.”
“What I’ve got is a possibility that Delgado is guilty of far more than he’s been charged with. Not to mention a couple of witnesses who will attest to the same.” Dare’s words seemed to snag both men’s attention, so he proceeded to report what he’d learned from Benson and Gellar. When he got to the part about Gellar’s girlfriend witnessing Delgado handing the incriminating package to Gellar to plant at Benson’s, Beardmore’s hand clenched once on the table, then released.
“What about the girlfriend? Is she willing to testify?”
“Connally has already rounded her up, and she corroborates Gellar’s story. I think the state would have a good case for homicide charges.” Dare watched Beardmore’s face carefully. He would be the one, after all, who’d make any decisions.
“So if this lead pans out, we’ll press additional charges.” Stanley frowned. “I don’t understand how this impacts Patterson’s case.”
A.J. drew a breath. Negotiations had just gotten tricky. “Detective Connally has held from the beginning that Delgado wasn’t working on his own. He believes he’s a hit man known as Paulie the Knife. Benson says the same thing. If that’s true, I’m wondering how interested the state would be in finding out just who he’s worked for.”
She’d never doubted Beardmore’s legal mind. While Mark still looked slightly confused, the other attorney was eyeing her shrewdly. “Mr. McKay, would you mind stepping out for a moment, please?” He never took his gaze from her while Dare moved to comply.
When the door had closed behind Dare, Beardmore said, “I have no intention of jumping on something that turns out to be all accusation and very little solid evidence.”
“No, sir.” She waited, knowing even as she sat that the man was considering all the possible ramifications. All the ways the possible glory could reflect on him.
“That said,” he continued, “I’d be cautiously interested if Delgado could offer something solid. I’d take nothing less than some tangible proof of the people who hired him. If he can provide that…” He shrugged. “Then we might be able to deal.”
“A plea bargain?” Mark’s voice was incredulous. “Excuse me, sir, but I suggested from the beginning that we could plead the Patterson case down.”
“I won’t deal on that case.” On that point A.J. was adamant. Delgado was going to be held accountable for Meghan Patterson’s kidnapping and attempted murder. If anything, her own recent experience strengthened her empathy for the woman. If Meghan was right, she’d lost a sister to the man. Had almost lost her life. Delgado wasn’t go
ing to skate away from all his deeds free and clear.
Choosing her words carefully, she said, “I think we should still go after Delgado for Meghan Patterson. But what if Connally’s right and he’s been working for someone all along? Maybe we can convince him to give up that person’s name, as well as whoever hired the hit on Dorsey.”
Beardmore leaned back in his chair, his eyes suddenly shuttered. “If I recall correctly, Connally has a hunch about who had hired Delgado most recently.”
“Yes, sir. Victor Mannen. As a matter of fact, we ran into him just a few minutes ago, leaving the courthouse.”
“Who’s that?”
Both of them ignored Mark’s question. A.J.’s gaze was fixed unwaveringly on her boss’s. The sheen of affability that he affected in public had vanished. His eyes were shrewd, his expression calculating. She imagined he was weighing the options, carefully selecting the one that would best work to his advantage.
So she was completely unprepared to hear him say, “Actually, Mr. Mannen was in to see me this morning.”
When she could find her tongue again, A.J. strove to keep her voice expressionless. “What did he want?”
“Will someone please tell me who the hell Victor Mannen is?” Mark’s words were truculent.
Beardmore answered him almost absently. “He’s a wealthy local businessman with a somewhat colorful past.”
“He was charged with murder several years ago,” A.J. added flatly. “And I believe Justice has some interest in his business holdings.”
“He’d heard of my possible candidacy for county state attorney.” Dennis brushed an invisible bit of lint off his sleeve. “Came to pledge his support. I declined, of course.”
She knew she’d have to proceed with caution. “Naturally, it must be difficult for you to suspect a supporter of yours.”
Eyes glinting, Dennis leaned forward. “If he turns out to be dirty the last thing I want is to be affiliated with him, even remotely. If, however, he’s being unfairly maligned, I certainly won’t advocate ruining his reputation.”
Which was, A.J. thought dryly, a way for the attorney to have it both ways. Do nothing that might offend a potential donor, unless the situation could be turned around to help him another way.
“Delgado has to give us something solid before we deal,” he went on. “I want names of who gave the orders in the Patterson and Dorsey cases. Evidence for both will buy him immunity on the Dorsey murder. But we won’t deal on the kidnapping charge. That stands.”
Allowing herself a slight smile of satisfaction, she said only, “I’ll take care of it.”
Dare waited in the outer office. Uncertain of how long the meeting would last, he made himself comfortable. He had, after all, gotten very little sleep the last two nights. Slouched in a chair, he tipped his head back to lean it against the wall and stretched his legs out in front of him.
He had a quick catnap before the door opened and Addie walked in. At her entrance he stood lazily, winked. “I decided to hang around because I have something pressing to discuss with you.”
Her brows arched, but she only walked past him, opened the door. He followed her into her office. “What is it, exactly, that’s so pressing?”
“This.” He crowded her against the wall and sealed her mouth with his in a quick, hungry kiss that was as unexpected as it was devastating. He’d surprised her with the sudden move. She surprised herself with her reaction to it. Her arms twined around his neck and she kissed him back, with just as much fire. Lips, tongue, teeth…the connection was elemental and all too encompassing.
When he dragged his mouth from hers, something deep inside her mourned. He rested his forehead against hers. “I have to go.”
She seemed to have no control over her hands. They smoothed over his shoulders, to grip his biceps. “You stayed to tell me that?”
“Among other things.” He allowed himself one more quick kiss before stepping away from temptation. “I’ve got some other ideas I want to follow up on.” It would be interesting, he thought, to see if a connection could be found between Mannen and Benson, Dorsey or Mulcahy. Some judicious digging was in order. “Unless you’re willing to let me tag along with you today?”
She surprised herself with the amount of disappointment she felt in the answer she gave him. “Afraid not. I’ve got work to do.”
“And you have until exactly five o’clock to do it.” He ignored her raised eyebrows, kissed the tip of her nose. “You owe me a date, remember?”
She feigned blankness. “I don’t recall.”
“Liar.” Dare slipped his hands in his pocket, rocked back on his heels. It was peculiarly satisfying to banter this way with Addie. It was satisfying to do just about anything with Addie. “I’ll pick you up here at five.”
She was already shaking her head. “I’ll take a cab home.”
Considering, he gave in on the issue. “All right, I’ll pick you up there at seven. Wear a dress. That was part of the deal, remember?”
She did. “Any other orders before you go?”
His eyes gleamed. “Maybe. Wear those shoes I bought for you.”
“I’m not sure they’ll match my beige suit.”
He leaned in, cupped her nape and drew her to him. His lips a fraction of an inch from hers, he breathed, “A dress. Not a suit. If you’re not sure what to pick out, I can help you select it when I get there.”
“I believe I can handle that myself. What do you have in mind?”
“Dinner. Dancing. Candlelight.” He punctuated his words with quick kisses, before easing away. “Don’t forget the shoes.”
She ignored the quick flutter in her stomach and rolled her eyes. “What is it men have with spiked heels?”
He’d moved away, his hand already on the doorknob. “Wear them tonight, and I’ll show you.”
The promise in his voice caused her pulse to skip. She waited until he was out of the office before she propped herself against the wall, supporting knees that had gone curiously weak. A month, even a week ago, if someone had told her a man could turn her boneless with a kiss she’d have laughed out loud. However, Dare McKay wasn’t just any man. And this wouldn’t be just any date.
Her heart spun once in her chest. She’d never been one to run headlong into danger, but she seemed to be galloping toward it now. And she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
Chapter 12
“A.J. Stanley.” Joel Paquin stood, offered his hand to each of them as they entered the tiny room in the basement of the city jail. His gaze lingered on A.J.’s face. “Souvenirs from your last court battle?” He laughed a little. “I’ll try to take it a bit easier on you when we meet.” There was a hint of triumph in his gaze. “I can’t say I was surprised by your invitation to meet today, although the terms are a bit unusual.”
She laid her briefcase on the table, unlocked it. “We’d prefer Delgado to be present when we make our offer. That’s not a problem for you, is it?”
There was something shark-like in his smile. “It’s never a problem to hear an offer from the state attorney’s office for an innocent client.”
Mark started to speak, and A.J. nudged him under the table. She smiled serenely at Paquin. “That’s exactly what we counted on.”
The door opened then, and Delgado was ushered in by a uniformed policeman. She studied the prisoner while the cop left the room. The man had a decided effect on her each time she saw him, and today was no different. There was something reptilian about him, something cold and empty in the eyes that reminded her of a snake beginning to coil.
She was going to make sure that this snake never struck again.
“Mr. Delgado, we invited you to this meeting so you could judge what we have to say firsthand, instead of having it filtered through your lawyer.”
He gave a negligible shrug. “Wasting your time. Whatever you got to say you coulda just said to him.”
“All right.” Adrenaline spiked, hummed through her veins as she opened her brief
case and withdrew some notes she had Song prepare. She handed one copy to Paquin and retained the other. “I’m sure you’ll find this as interesting as we did, Joel.”
She waited, hands clasped nervelessly, for the other lawyer to skim the material. His reaction wasn’t long in coming.
“What the hell is this!” Paquin dropped the sheets with a disdainful motion. “What kind of game are you playing, Jacobs?”
“No game. It just so happens that we’ve uncovered some of your client’s other…activities.” She waited, let her words sink in. “Perhaps he hasn’t shared his nickname with you. It’s Paulie the Knife, isn’t it?” This was directed at Delgado, who stared unflinchingly back at her with an eerie lack of expression.
“I suppose you didn’t think it was relevant to the ill-fated love affair you and Miss Patterson were engaged in.” Ridicule dripped from her words. “After all, why wouldn’t the jury believe a man who has spent the past ten years of his life hiring out as an assassin?”
“I expected better of you.” Paquin had recovered his unruffled facade. “Do you really think we’re going to be reeled in by this pathetic maneuver?”
“It doesn’t really matter what you think of it. Those papers—” she nodded at the sheaf he’d dropped “—document interviews conducted by the CPD of a couple of Mr. Delgado’s acquaintances.” She shifted her gaze to the silent man at Paquin’s side. “Benson and Gellar, by the way, failed to send their regards. I’m sure you’ll understand.”
Joel shook his head sadly. “I should have figured Beardmore would have come up with some trick like this. You’ll have to excuse us. We’ve got nothing more to talk about.”
“Fine. You don’t need to talk. Just listen.” She leaned forward. “Does this information affect Patterson’s case? Maybe not. But it does represent a whole new set of charges that are being drawn up as we speak. So after your client is sentenced for kidnapping and attempted murder, he’s going to face yet another trial for the murder of Andrew Dorsey.”
