Shielded in the Shadows

by Tara Taylor Quinn

“Just stay away from her, okay?” he said now. “And if you hit a rough patch, call me. Or get to a group therapy session. Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Talk soon,” Jayden said, hoping to God Chantel and her people found the guy who was hurting Suzie Heber soon. Because he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to keep Bill at bay. The man loved his wife. At some point he was going to give in to the need to protect her. It was an instinct, not a desire. Something that would push at him from the inside out and eventually win.

  Just like Emma’s belief that Bill was the culprit was pushing at him. Jayden had to find a way to do something about that.

  Hanging up, he headed back inside.

  * * *

  Emma was in the kitchen, notes from Bill Heber’s trial spread around her, when she heard Jayden come back inside. She had no idea who he’d been talking to. He’d been looking at his phone before he’d gone out; obviously had had a message that needed immediate attention.

  She got it. He worked as much as she did. There was comfort in that.

  She’d jumped into the shower, planning to head into the office for a few hours once Jayden left. Sometimes just being at her desk, especially when the office was quiet, settled everything inside her until she could find whatever puzzle piece she needed.

  And she had a couple of court appearances in the morning. A manslaughter trial starting in a couple of weeks. There was always more to do than there was time to do it.

  “I have to talk to Suzie Heber,” she said when Jayden came into the kitchen fully dressed. She’d heard him go back to her room; figured he was probably getting ready to go. He emptied what was left of his coffee down the drain, rinsed the cup and put it in the dishwasher.

  Not a single one of the men she’d been with in her life had done that. Not even her father. Drake wouldn’t even have carried it into the kitchen, let alone put it in the sink.

  “What’s up?” he asked, stopping halfway between the sink and her spot at the table, car keys in hand.

  “I keep feeling like there’s something I missed before. Something that will tie then to now, to prove that Bill is back to his old behavior. That he’s a diabolically dangerous man. I’ve been over and over the interviews, the testimonies, the reports, and I couldn’t find anything significant. And maybe that’s because, until this week, it was so insignificant I just let it go.”

  “What was so insignificant?”

  He came closer, his gaze focused, and she had to pause a second while a wave of emotion passed through her.

  It was nice, working with him. Someone as dedicated as she was. Who understood the dedication. The drive.

  “I noticed earlier this week... Suzie answered every question I asked, in multiple interviews, when Bill was on trial with me. Every one of them. Except one. When she found out she was pregnant, she’d thought Bill would be thrilled. He’d wanted them to have a child together, said it would cement them together forever. Instead, when she told him, he flew off in a rage. Said the child couldn’t be his. That she’d been unfaithful to him,” she reported.

  “He told me he struggled with jealousy from the moment he fell in love with her,” Jayden shot back immediately. “He just couldn’t believe that someone as young and beautiful as she was would really love him, an old fart. His words, not mine. He said the jealousy would make him almost insane at times, in his thoughts. And that he’d accused her of awful things. He also said that he’d take off, go for a drive, or just go mow the lawn, settle down, and come to his senses, and he’d apologize. That things would be good for a while, until the doubts started to eat at him again. He said that’s what hurt Suzie. His doubts. That she never knew when he’d get jealous again, and was always watching every move she made so that she didn’t risk feeding his doubts.”

  “Yeah, she told me that, too,” Emma confirmed. “She was talking about having to watch every move she made, being afraid to answer the phone when he was around in case it was a telemarketer and he would think she and the marketer were lying to him and insist that it was a lover who’d called, not knowing Bill was going to be home.”

  Was he finally beginning to see Bill more clearly? The thought was a relief, and scared her, too. It made Bill as her perp that much more real. The man was unstable. Violent.

  “So what question didn’t Suzie answer?”

  “I asked her who Bill thought the father of her baby was. I’ve been all over my notes, even listened to the tapes over the past couple of days, and nothing. She never said.”

  “It’s my understanding that he worried about anyone and everyone, at one point or another,” Jayden said. “She probably didn’t know the answer.”

  Probably. Maybe. But unanswered questions made her uncomfortable. “It didn’t matter to the trial,” she said aloud. “Once we got the DNA results saying Bill was the father, I didn’t need a name to go with the imaginary lover he’d concocted.”

  “What does it matter now?”

  “It probably doesn’t. I just don’t like unanswered questions,” she said. She wasn’t sure Sara was working that day. And didn’t want to bother Chantel. But as soon as she could, she’d ask The Lemonade Stand counselor if she could try to arrange an interview with Suzie Heber.

  And prayed the woman would agree to speak with her again.

  Chapter 16

  Other than preparing for Luke’s parole hearing and monitoring the location app, Jayden took Sunday off. He was on call, of course—that was a given with him—but he didn’t make visits or calls. Didn’t even sit at his desk and do paperwork. He went to the beach, to surf for a couple of hours. To get some distance between him and Emma—to find perspective. And when the waves didn’t take away his constant need to fight thinking about her, he headed down to have dinner with his folks.

  They were as welcoming as always, clearly delighted to see him, doted on him like he was still a high school kid living at home, and asked very few questions.

  “There’s something different about you,” his mother, Sheila, said as they sat at a restaurant on a pier out over the ocean. One of his father’s favorite spots. Jayden Sr., who went by Jay, never changed much. He had his ideas about how life went and didn’t sway from them.

  Take the steak he was eating. Always filet. Always with a bit of pink. And absolutely no steak sauce. His baked potato had both butter and sour cream. Same ranch dressing on his salad—it never wavered. And he didn’t touch the bread. There was something solid, reassuring in the sameness.

  And it drove Jayden nuts. When he’d lived at home he’d felt...claustrophobic with the sameness. Figured maybe that was what had pushed him to take such risks all the time. Trying new things. Like he had to prove to himself that there was more to life than just...solid. And the same.

  “Nothing different,” he told his mother now. “I’m exactly the same as I was three weeks ago.” He’d been home for two days that time. “Working the same job. Even have mostly the same clients.”

  “I’m thinking about retiring.” His father’s words interrupted his foray into a past that had often included him going off in his head, reliving some caper or another, during family dinner—just to survive the blahness. “Any chance you’re ready to come home and take over my business?”

  “Zero,” he said lightly. They’d had the talk, seriously, when he’d graduated from college. His father knew he was going to spend his life doing what he was doing. And he knew why.

  “Besides, you’re only fifty-three, you’d grow old and die if you retired.”

  “That’s what I told him,” Sheila said, smiling at the man like they were still just high school sweethearts.

  There’d been a time when he’d wanted that—to be so in love, and so loved, that it would last a lifetime. If things were different, he’d still want that. But things weren’t different and there were some things he couldn’t change, no matter w
hat he’d give to be able to do so. Some things money couldn’t fix, the weight on his conscience being one of them.

  “The world’s changing,” Jay said. “Not just with technology, but overall. More and more businesses have to get in the political arena to survive. Hell, you have an employee who misspeaks on his or her own time and you could end up in national news.”

  “And you’d love the free publicity,” Jayden said, popping a bite of crab leg into his mouth.

  “Maybe. Just saying...if you were ready...”

  “I’m not.” He continued to chew. Thinking of Bill Heber. In a way the guy reminded him of his dad—other than the jealousy issues and a brush with the law. Bill was a bit younger, but not much. He’d owned his own company, too, before his life had come crashing down around him. Both of them were in the automotive industry, though not at all on the same scale. Bill’s had been a one-up mechanic shop and Jay’s was a multimillion-dollar extrusion company that manufactured car parts for several of the major automakers.

  “So...” His mother pushed away the big bowl that had held her chicken and Baja ranch salad. “You seeing anyone?” She always asked.

  “No.” The answer was always the same. They always moved on. He’d never told his parents about any women he’d slept with. And he wasn’t about to start now, let alone with Emma.

  “You’re thirty-one, Jayden.”

  What was this? He looked at her. Sucked out another bite of crab. “I’m aware of that,” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. She meant the world to him.

  “What about grandchildren?” The question was softly spoken. Almost hesitant.

  “Sheila.” His father’s voice, one word, in a tone they all knew. Not disrespectful. Not threatening. But one meant to get attention.

  “I know,” she said, pursing her lips as she shook her head.

  Now he was confused. Glancing from one to the other, he asked, “What?”

  “Nothing.” They answered in unison.

  He put down his crab fork and the leg he was holding. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Jay shook his head, but Sheila looked at him. “We’re worried about you.”

  “Sheila.” Jay’s tone wasn’t quite as commanding, but the message was the same. Accompanied by a bit of acceptance, as well.

  “We want grandchildren,” she added. “But we know that if we mention this to you, you’ll just shut us out, so we don’t,” she concluded.

  Jayden’s first instinct was to get up and leave the table, leave them sitting there. The fact that he felt that way bothered him. He wasn’t a high school kid anymore. And wasn’t going to run from things.

  The idea that his parents thought they had to treat him like his mother’s fine china...

  “You know I don’t intend to have a family,” he told them quietly. “And you know why.”

  They nodded, both meeting his gaze openly.

  “So, I don’t get it.” He frowned. “Why would you think that’s going to change?”

  “You’re maturing, son,” Sheila said. She’d always been the one to have the emotional talks with him. His father had been the enforcer. “People change as they mature. Perspectives change.”

  “This isn’t a perspective,” he told her, completely confident in what he was saying. “This is a life choice. One I’m not going to change.”

  “Okay.” She looked to Jay, who put his hand over hers.

  “You’re too much like me,” was all Jay said. He wasn’t like his father at all, but he let that go. Or at least, wasn’t willing to accept that he had to be like him.

  “And there’s no reason to worry about me, either.” Picking up his utensil, he went back to work on dinner. “If you must know, I spent the weekend enjoying myself, not working.”

  He had to give them that much. They were his parents, and he loved them.

  * * *

  Everything clicked for Emma on Sunday. Case files, prep for the morning, motions written and ready to file, grocery shopping down, bathrooms cleaned, and an email to Sara, asking her to call at her earliest convenience. She did, that same day. She wasn’t at work, but she was checking email. And said that she’d try to set up a meeting with Suzie within the next couple of days—preferably at the Stand.

  Emma made a big bowl of pasta salad for dinner, with enough to take in for lunch a couple of times during the week. And she thought about Jayden.

  It was good that he’d left as soon as they’d gotten up. That she hadn’t heard from him all day. They were doing it right. Sticking to their plan. It was working.

  Remarkably, fantastically, well. All parts of her agreed on that one. For the first time in the couple of years that she and her dark side had been so critically at odds, Emma couldn’t distinguish between herself and Ms. Shadow. She felt oddly...at peace. Buoyant, even.

  Her life’s map was on course. To the point that she’d openly spoken about the actions she was taking to start her own family. She’d told Jayden, knowing that it would put distance between them. That meant she could look forward to Jayden’s return that night guilt-free. Even more so when he didn’t call to suggest they dine together again. That would be too much like them becoming an item.

  She’d expected to hear from him by seven that night, though. Hoped so, anyway. Not if he had an issue at hand. Of course not then. His work came first. She’d just had a thought or two about some fun they could have, things she’d like to try. Things she’d never even thought of before that day.

  When Chantel called at seven forty-five, Emma’s heart jumped. It was close to dark and she was nervous about being alone. Not afraid, exactly, but uncomfortable. She could leave. But had already made the decision that she wasn’t going to let the creep push her out of her own home. She really just wished Jayden would get back. He knew the threat to her was still valid.

  He was practically the one who’d made her aware of how very real the threat was. Wanting her to take it seriously.

  “Just calling to let you know that I’ve got a couple of people stationed outside your home.” Chantel’s words didn’t make sense at first. Emma glanced out the window. Saw no one. “The car in the driveway next door. Your neighbor is out of town and gave us permission to park in the driveway. One or the other of the officers will check your perimeter at least once an hour.”

  “I don’t understand.” Had something happened to Jayden? “I...”

  “The chief says a threat to a prosecutor, most particularly one with the personal and emotional issues you handle, is not to be ignored. We aren’t taking any chances. Until we find out who did this, or have reason to believe you are no longer in danger, you’ll have protection.”

  “But Jayden...”

  “He called to say that he wouldn’t be able to make it there tonight.”

  “Okay, well, thank you.” Emma wasn’t ready to hang up, though she didn’t really know why.

  Chantel gave her the names of the officers, as well as their cell numbers in case Emma needed them during the night.

  Then Emma was alone with shades drawn and no plans for the rest of the evening.

  All alone.

  Jayden wasn’t coming. He hadn’t called and he wasn’t coming.

  Good. Right. They were keeping things impersonal and professional.

  Exactly as they both wanted.

  * * *

  The only reason Jayden stopped by Emma’s office after the preliminary parole hearing on Monday was for business purposes. There’d been no guarantee she’d even be there.

  At her desk, in a blue skirt and jacket that hugged her beautifully, aptly outlining all of the curves he knew firsthand, she looked totally engrossed by whatever was on the computer screen in front of her.

  “Jayden!” She jumped when he knocked on her open door.

  “You busy?”

  “No!” She sort of
smiled. Then said, “Well...yes, I am. But come in. What’s up?”

  Kind of seemed like his unexpected presence had given her a bit of the jitters. He liked that. Made suffering through them a little easier if you didn’t suffer alone.

  She watched him as he entered, took a seat in the sole chair in front of her desk. Had it only been five days since he’d first sat there? In more pain than he’d have liked to admit. At least the ribs were healing. The discomfort was hardly noticeable. Might be a little discoloration left, but that was fading fast.

  She was staring at him. He stared back.

  “You look nice.” She said the words, then looked away, back at her computer. Clicked a couple of times and then folded her hands together on the top of her desk.

  Feeling a bit manly about the fact that his court clothes—dress pants, shirt, and tie—hadn’t gone unnoticed, he quickly sobered.

  “I just came from Luke’s hearing,” he told her. “They didn’t let him go. They’ve got thirty-some days to schedule a final hearing and then write their report, and he’ll have to remain in custody at least that long. That should mean that his wife and daughter are safe to go home. Since you made the call for me on their behalf... I thought it prudent for me to let you know.”

  What a bunch of bull. He wanted to see her, he could admit that to himself.

  But with his mother’s talk about children and maturity and perspective ringing in his ears, along with Emma’s ongoing fertilization process, he wasn’t as comfortable around her.

  He liked her as much, though, which was fine as long as it was only sexual. And she wasn’t...

  “When’s your next doctor’s appointment?” He’d wanted to know. Hadn’t been sure he should ask. And yet he had. Her welfare mattered to him.

  She frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “For the insemination. I just think we should be done with doing what we’re doing before you get...” He threw his hand in the air in lieu of actually saying the word “pregnant.”