Without You
Mary Lynn Baxter
Gaining back trust is hard enough…Jackson Cole is shocked when he hears a troubled friend has been found murdered in a New Orleans hotel room–and he's the prime suspect in her death. Jackson realizes he has to fight for his life, but the one person he can count on is the last person he should call: Hallie Hunter, the most gifted attorney he knows…and his ex-fiancée.Especially when you're being set up for murderDivorce attorney Hallie Hunter can hardly keep her composure when Jackson walks through her door, begging her to represent him. It can mean only one thing–she will have to spend time alone with the man who once violated her trust…the only man she has ever loved. And to make matters more complicated, the murder victim was at the root of their final split. But as the case steers her toward a dangerous underworld, Hallie must help Jackson confront a devastating truth–and must decide for herself if she can ever live without him again.
“Why are you calling me at home, Jackson?”
“I take it that’s a no-no.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
He hesitated several beats, then said, “Okay, I’m sorry. But I couldn’t remember if I thanked you for taking my case.”
“I haven’t taken your case exactly, but yes, you thanked me.”
Silence.
“It was good to see you, Hallie, after all this time.” His voice had grown low and husky.
She crossed her legs and tried to control her labored breathing. Would she ever get over the hots for this man? Even through the phone lines the heat fizzed. She suspected he felt it, too. Yet she was loath to end the conversation.
“It was good to see you, too.” And it had been, though she was loath to admit that, as well.
“I know I shouldn’t say this—”
“You probably shouldn’t,” she responded in a weak voice.
“If you don’t want to hear it, then you’ll have to hang up.”
She stayed on the line.
“I’ve missed you like hell.”
Without You
Mary Lynn
Baxter
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My sincere appreciation to Lance McFaddin for
his assistance with the information on private
clubs that I used in this novel.
Contents
Prologue (#uf3e1a137-3015-5de1-883c-07d204227bf1)
Chapter One (#u9b678f29-d025-5416-a794-12e5c14deb4b)
Chapter Two (#u18e90aaa-9c06-5c41-9073-fa0c270bee7e)
Chapter Three (#u70cc66f2-3556-5c93-8964-9463f53b5300)
Chapter Four (#u005a9f02-f3b8-58d0-ac60-e82e61793c4d)
Chapter Five (#ufd9238d5-7ce0-5bf9-8a93-f79e1c044973)
Chapter Six (#u85b5e33e-d5ff-51ff-a8a3-a1040c9ece77)
Chapter Seven (#ud51f792a-5178-53d2-a639-c7193a2f31c9)
Chapter Eight (#u54322c14-0427-5865-8987-7b151c1103d2)
Chapter Nine (#u5a1810c4-e3cd-5a50-8be6-4e32c4cfed32)
Chapter Ten (#u75bbc590-7f4b-57dc-a380-577c5ee6d06a)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
The wheels on the cleaning carts squeaked as they lumbered along the otherwise silent hallway. Once the carts touched noses, the two housekeepers grinned at each other.
“How many more rooms you got to clean today?” Myrtle Tittle, short and plump, reached up and straightened her askew blond wig.
Clara Means, equally plump but taller in stature to Myrtle, pursed her thin lips, deepening the Howdy Doody lines around her mouth. “A lot. How ’bout you?”
“I’m in the same boat.”
“Me and my old man are supposed to go dancing tonight,” Clara said, “but it don’t look like that’s gonna happen. After today, I’ll be ready to drop. I’d sure like to know where all these folks come from.”
Myrtle scratched under the wig. “Me, too. This hotel ain’t ever been this crowded. Something going on we don’t know about?”
“Probably something to do with Elvis and that great big old house of his.” Clara gritted her teeth. “I just wish they’d let him rest in peace.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Myrtle replied with a sigh. “The poor man’s been dug up and replanted so many times, he’ll never get no peace.”
“Good thing it’s not our problem. Guess we’d best get to work before we get caught visiting. You know how Connie hates for us to stop and talk.”
“Maybe if she had a man, she wouldn’t be so uptight.”
Clara chuckled, then sobered. “She can have mine. He’ll whip her into shape real quick-like.”
“So would mine. Look, I’ll check you later.”
Clara nodded, then shoved her cart on down the hallway. “See ya,” she threw back over her shoulder.
The blonde turned and knocked on the door, then called out, “Housekeeping.”
No answer. She pecked again. When another silence greeted her, Myrtle breathed a sigh of relief. There was no Do Not Disturb sign visible, so at least she wouldn’t have to return. Not only was the hotel full, but the visitors were plumb lazy.
Once she had propped the door open and walked inside, she pulled up short, her feathers wilting. The woman occupant was sitting at the table with the side of her face resting on the top. Must’ve tied one on last night, the maid thought to herself, disgust charging through her.
“Ma’am,” she said in a soft tone. When she received no answer, Myrtle upped her volume.
Not only didn’t the woman answer, but she didn’t so much as twitch a muscle. The maid stepped closer. “Ma’am, it’s housekeeping.”
Still no reaction. Frowning, Myrtle did something she’d never done to a guest. She touched her on the arm, then watched in horror as the woman slid off the chair onto the floor.
Stumbling backward, Myrtle muttered, “Oh sweet Lord.” Then turning, she ran back out into the hall. “Help! Someone help!”
One
Jackson Cole started his day off with a five-mile run. He’d need the stamina the run provided to get him through the grueling hours that lay ahead. More than anything, he enjoyed his morning ritual.
Fall in Memphis was glorious, and he made every effort to take advantage of it. Mother Nature usually chose the last few weeks of October to start painting the leaves their brilliant colors. This year was no exception.
He jogged in a park near his home, where the trees had exploded into fiery colors; his favorites were the huge red oaks. A cool front had blown in last night, and his shoes slapped the fallen leaves. He guessed he could run all day. Only because his desk at the club had been piled high with work did he quit.
Now, hours later, as he stood at the window in his plush office and stared out on to Beale Street, he felt the afternoon sunshine on his body. It radiated through the glass with warmth and light. He moved his tense shoulders up and down, feeling the heat relax him. As predicted, his day had been a mother.
He loved Elan, his upscale restaurant and bar on Beale Street, with a passion. But lately, things had not been going his way, and the timing couldn’t be worse. He’d been well on the way to scaling back on his work, trying to get a life outside the club, when the trouble had started.
The problem was, he didn’t know what to do about it. So far, he’d kept his mouth shut and tried to deal with things on his own. How long that ploy would work was anyone’s guess. But he knew he was taking a chance by playing such a dangerous game.
A sigh filtered through Jackson as he moved his shoulders again, keeping his muscles loose. He turned and stared at his desk, relieved to see that some of the paperwork had been dealt with even though he’d been mentally distracted.
The only item on the day’s agenda left hanging was searching for a new band. The dance floor at Elan was one of the largest and best maintained, which allowed the club to attract top-notch entertainers. Without them, the floor would be empty, thus greatly reducing his clientele. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
However, his assistant and friend Terrance Mayfield, could take care of finding the perfect group. All Jackson had to do was give the final okay.
“You got a minute?”
Jackson swung around and faced his assistant as Terrance sauntered into the room. He motioned for him to take a seat. “Your timing’s on the money.”
“How so?” Terrance asked, plopping down in one of the fine leather chairs adjacent to Jackson’s desk. “Looks to me like you’ve tackled the pile of papers like you were fighting a war.” He paused with a grin. “A war you’ve obviously won.”
For a minute, Jackson didn’t speak, thinking how lucky he was to have Terrance. His body was toned but solid, bearing testimony to his long hours in a gym. His groomed mustache and beard surprisingly didn’t detract from or hide his charming smile. When it came to fraternizing with the customers, he was a smooth operator.
Although Jackson paid him out the kazoo, money didn’t necessarily buy loyalty. And loyalty was Terrance’s trademark. When he left Terrance in charge, Jackson never worried about the day-to-day operations.
“I didn’t quite cover everything,” Jackson finally said.
“Anything I can handle?”
“Yeah, finding us a new band ASAP.”
Terrance’s dark eyebrows rose in a question. “Aw, hell, don’t tell me The Jammers quit?”
“They did. Apparently they had a squabble that couldn’t be resolved.”
“Damn, what a crock. They were the best we’ve had in a long time.”
“I agree, but we have no choice but to move onward and hopefully upward.”
“I’ll get on it pronto.”
“When you’ve narrowed the choice to two, let me know.”
“Will do.” Terrance rose and walked out the door, only to return a minute later, his features scrunched in a frown.
Jackson was already back at his desk, going through the ledger. Looking up, he asked, “What?”
Terrance cleared the threshold, then eased the door shut behind him. “You have a visitor.”
“Who?”
“A Detective Gomez.”
A matching frown marred Jackson’s features. “What does he want?”
“Wouldn’t tell me. Said he needed to see you.”
Jackson shrugged. “Then, send him in.”
“Want me to hang around?”
“Nah. I’m sure it’s nothing. You just tend to the band business.”
Moments later, the detective strode through the door. Coming around his desk, Jackson met him in the middle of the room and they exchanged handshakes.
Jackson sized Gomez up quickly: young, good-looking and cocky. Though he couldn’t say why, the hairs stood up on his neck. Perhaps it was the way Gomez was eyeing him, like he was fresh meat about to be devoured.
Jackson smiled politely and asked in a cool tone, “What can I do for you, Detective?”
“Answer a few questions.” He paused. “If you don’t mind.”
“I’ll let you know after you’ve asked them.”
From the expression on Gomez’s face, the answer didn’t sit well with him, though he said, “Fair enough” in an even tone.
“Care to have a seat?”
Gomez shook his head. “I prefer to stand.”
“Suit yourself.”
For a moment, silence prevailed in the room as though each man was sizing the other up. Jackson had already done as much and decided Gomez didn’t like him. That in itself didn’t mean anything, except that it made this visit more awkward.
“I understand Roberta Klein is a friend of yours.”
Jackson hadn’t the foggiest idea what this interview was all about, but in his wildest imagination, he wouldn’t have connected it to Roberta. “You’re right,” he said with caution. “Has been for years. Why do you ask?”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“What’s this all about, Detective?”
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Cole, I prefer to ask the questions.”
Jackson was a master at hiding his emotions. If Gomez thought he was going to rile him with his brash tactics, he couldn’t be more wrong. “Fine. Fire away.”
“So, again, when was the last time you saw Ms. Klein?”
“Last evening, though I suspect you already know that.”
“It appears you were the last person to see Ms. Klein alive.”
Shock rocked Jackson. “Are you saying she’s dead?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
A weakness invaded Jackson’s system, making it impossible for him to remain standing. He sat down and stared at the detective. Impossible. Roberta couldn’t be dead. A million questions blazed to mind, but he kept his mouth shut. The truth was, he didn’t know what to say. And this was Gomez’s show—he’d made it clear he intended to run it.
“Care to comment, Mr. Cole?”
“When I left her, she was alive and well,” Jackson responded in a dazed voice.
“That so?”
Jackson suddenly wanted to knock the condescending smirk off his face. Instead, he managed to keep his cool even under the unexpected assault. “How did she die?”
“She was found slumped over the table, apparently strangled to death.”
Jackson felt sick to his stomach. At the same time, blind fury charged through him. If he got his hands on the person who had so cruelly snuffed out Roberta’s life, he’d save the justice system a lot of time and money.
“Know anything about that?” Gomez asked.
“Am I under arrest, Detective?”
“Not at this point. You’re one of many we’re questioning, though I have to tell you, you have the inside track.”
“Which means I need a lawyer.”
“It’s your call, of course.” The detective paused. “However, I’d like for you to come voluntarily to the precinct and answer a few questions.”
“When?”
“Now.” Gomez’s gaze pinned Jackson like a trapped rat. “If that’s convenient.”
Jackson knew Gomez didn’t give a damn if it was convenient. Voluntarily or not, he was in a heap of trouble.
“I’ll be there. With my lawyer.”
“Thanks,” Gomez responded. “I’ll expect you.”
With that, he turned and left the room. Jackson’s stomach roiled again as he splayed the palm of his hand on the top of his desk to hold him steady. He couldn’t believe Roberta was dead. And in such a brutal manner. Who would do such a thing? And why?
The Roberta he knew didn’t have any enemies, he thought, only to correct himself mentally. She had at least one, one who hated her enough to kill her. A shiver darted through Jackson, and he was chilled to the bone for more reasons than one.
The fact that he was a prime suspect sent another chill through him. He couldn’t ignore that, pretend Gomez and his suspicions would simply go away. They wouldn’t. He was in deep trouble.
What should he do? That was where things got sticky, especially when an answer jumped readily to mind: he could pay a visit to his ex-fiancée. Only, he wasn’t willing to pursue that option.
Yet did he really have a choice? No. He was desperate and desperate people often did stupid things. But this was not just about him. He couldn’t forget about Roberta. He had to find out who killed her. He owed her that much.
He didn’t remember when he hadn’t known Roberta. They had grown up in the same neighborhood. She had been like a sister to him and he’d spent a lot of time at her home, since he had not had one of his own. But like everyone else, Roberta had had her share of problems. She was a “needy” person whom he’d continued to help. Until he realized there was no helping her.
“What was that all about?” Terrance had entered the room.
“Roberta’s dead,” Jackson said in a dull, lifeless tone.
Terrance’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Terrance slammed his mouth shut and shook his head. “How? I mean…” His words faded.
Jackson told him.
“Surely the detective doesn’t think you had anything to do with her death.”
“Apparently he does, as I’ve been issued an unofficial invitation to appear at the precinct for more questioning.”
“Man oh man, that’s unbelievable.”
If you only knew the half of it, Jackson thought grimly. Combined with his other growing problem, this was getting close to becoming more than even he could handle. And he could handle a lot.
Terrance rubbed his mustache, then his beard. “So, what are you going to do?”
“See Hallie.”
Again, Terrance’s mouth gaped. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Jackson’s features darkened even more. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion or your approval.”
Terrance flushed, but he stood his ground. “I know you didn’t, but why Hallie, who’s not even a criminal lawyer? Though I’m sure someone in her firm is. If that’s why you’re seeing her—”
Jackson cut him off. “Look, I have to go.” At the door, he whipped around. “I’ll call you. Meanwhile, see to things.”
Terrance lopped a leg over the bar stool, his features pinched.
“What’s with you? You look like someone just stepped on your dick.”
Terrance threw Clyde Latham, the bartender, a disgusted look. “You have a mouth problem, Latham. You’d best not let the boss hear you talk like that or you’ll be in the unemployment line. You know how he feels about offending the customers.”
Undaunted, Clyde grinned. “You’re not a customer.”
“Then, you offend me personally. How’s that?”
Latham was a big, burly guy who was as competent as he was good-looking. He, too, had a gift for gab with the customers, and his big grin and laugh brought a lot of business to Elan. Still, Terrance didn’t much care for him, though he hadn’t said so. He had learned long ago to keep his mouth shut.
Latham shrugged, then asked, “You want a drink?”
“Not right now. I have too much on my mind.”
“If you’re talking, I’m listening.”
He shouldn’t vent to Clyde, but since his girlfriend, Jessica, wasn’t available, Clyde would do in a pinch. Besides, what had just happened affected everyone at the club. “Jackson might be in a bit of a tight spot.”
“How?” Clyde was wiping some glasses, but he stopped mid-action and stared at Terrance.
“Roberta Klein was found dead this afternoon.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not hardly.” The remark irritated Terrance and he didn’t bother to hide it.
“So, what are you saying? That Jackson had something to do with it?”
“No,” Terrance snapped. “But the police obviously think he might have.”
Clyde’s eyes widened, then he whistled.
“The guy who just left was from Memphis PD. He told Jackson he was the last one to see Roberta alive.”
“Man, I hate that she’s dead. She was a nice lady.”
“I hate it, too. But I hate Jackson’s involvement more.” Terrance scratched his head, a habit he had when he was nervous. And was he ever nervous. “Maybe I will have a drink, even though I’m about to be on full-fledged duty.”
“Scotch on the rocks?”
Terrance nodded.
After he’d felt the liquor hit his stomach with a burn then a punch, he felt better. Jackson would skin him alive if he knew he was drinking when the yuppie work crowd was due. Big drinkers, all of them, which meant they needed to be watched.
Still, he wouldn’t let his drink go to waste, not when he needed it so badly. What a turn of events. If Jackson… Terrance shut that thought down. Underneath his smooth facade, Jackson was tough as nails. And a fighter.
But if he was really a suspect, then things could get tough. If worse came to worst, Terrance knew Jackson would depend on him to keep the club running up to par. With that in mind, he pushed his unfinished drink away.
“So has he been arrested?”
Clyde’s deep voice pulled him out of his dark thoughts. “Not yet. He went to the station of his own free will.”
“Still, the fact he’s a suspect ain’t good.”
“It’s downright scary is what it is.”
“Hope he’s got a good lawyer.”
Now, that was the kicker, Terrance thought, but he couldn’t say as much. By making a beeline to Hallie, Jackson showed that where she was concerned, the little head was still overruling the big head. But that wasn’t his problem, he reminded himself.
After looking at his unfinished drink with yearning, Terrance got up and made his way back to his office to get ready for the evening.
Two
“So how’s the case progressing?”
Hallie Hunter looked straight into her boss’s eyes and quipped, “Like your worst nightmare.”
Winston Bastrop pushed back in his chair and chuckled. “I can always depend on you to tell it like it is.”
Hallie’s grin was short-lived. “Isn’t that one of the reasons you hired me?”
“Absolutely.”
Normally her private meetings with the founder and senior partner of the firm Bastrop, Tate, and Jones were not this amicable. Though she knew Winston admired her and her ability to get the job done, they didn’t always agree on her method. In fact, he could be a pain in the ass because of his unbendable attitude. He looked unbendable, too.
Winston, a crusty-voiced gentleman in his late sixties, was tall and regal with a thatch of white hair and see-all green eyes. He had a keen mind and was a law scholar, and Hallie admired him.
Admiration aside, though, the two of them squared off more times than not, as he wasn’t wild about her feistiness and in-your-face approach to the job. But since she was the firm’s number-one divorce attorney and brought in the lion’s share of clients, he guarded his tongue and cut her more slack than normal.
“While this might be a case from hell,” Hallie said, closing the silence, “I’m not giving in or up. The Dryers will abide by the rules or I’ll send them packing.”
Winston chuckled again. “What says the other attorney? It’s Rich Philmon, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and he’s about as fed up as I am. When I agreed to represent Cynthia, she was in agreement on property, children, money—the whole nine yards. But along the way, something went awry.”
“Maybe she decided to bleed him for more money.”
Hallie sighed. “I’m not sure. I think it’s more than that. Something personal, though she won’t confide in me. But when she and Bill are sitting across the table from each other, the venom is suddenly free-flowing.”
“I have every confidence that you’ll sort it all out.”
“Like I said, Cynthia will either play by the rules or out the door she goes.”
“Leaving her money behind.”
Hallie picked a piece of lint off her light wool slacks, then looked up. “That’s the deal and she knows it.”
“I’d like to be kept posted on this one. Her father is an old friend of mine with a lot of money and clout. I wouldn’t want our firm to do anything that would offend him. Most of all, I’d like to see this work out for her.”
“My concern is the children.” Hallie paused with a sigh. “I suspect that’s where the new problem stems from. But again, I can’t say, not until Cynthia confides in me.”
“I guess we’ll soon see.” Winston paused, then changed the subject. “Are you happy here, Hallie?”
His question took her aback. She hadn’t known why she’d been summoned into the inner sanctum and she really hadn’t cared. Good or bad, she was capable of handling it.
However, this afternoon she’d sensed a difference in the atmosphere and Winston’s attitude. When he hadn’t addressed anything significant thus far, she had thought she’d been mistaken. Now she knew her first instinct had been correct. Something was up.
“If I weren’t, I’d be gone.” A smile tempered her bluntness.
Winston’s chuckle deepened. “Wasted question, right?”
“Depends on why you asked it.”
“All right, I’ll get to the point. We’re considering taking you in as a shareholder in the firm. A partner, if you will.”
Hallie could barely contain her excitement. She felt the urge to lunge out of her chair and sing the Hallelujah Chorus. Instead, she remained still and calm. “I’m both humbled and honored, Winston.”
“Poppycock,” he muttered. “Honored, yes. Humbled, no.”
Hallie gave him a glittering smile that deepened her dimple, then sobered. “I’ve hoped for those words for a long time, even though thirty-eight is young to make partner.”
“That’s true. But if we didn’t think you had potential, the position wouldn’t be in the offing.”
“I know, and again I’m honored. But I have devoted my life to the practice of law and to this firm.” She didn’t add that she’d sacrificed a home and family for the firm, in order to reach this stage in her career.
The phone on Winston’s desk rang. When he reached for it, Hallie rose and signaled that she would see him later. He nodded.
Hallie headed straight for the ladies’ room, an added spring in her step. She was ecstatic and wanted to tell everyone about the sudden turn of events and her good fortune, but under the circumstances, that wouldn’t be wise. Anyway, she didn’t have a close friend and confidant in the firm. Since she was the only female in a good old boy’s network, she had to tread lightly.
Besides, she hadn’t gotten the partnership yet. She’d best remember that. After it became a reality, that was the time to celebrate.
On her climb up the partnership ladder, she had garnered more than her share of enemies—especially Nick Skinner. He seemed to want everything she wanted, whether he’d earned it or not. Nick would be a constant thorn in her side, if she allowed it. Unless they were forced to work together on a case, she ignored him, which unfortunately seemed to make matters worse.
Hallie could imagine his reaction when he heard the news. Some of her giddiness waned. Maybe he was also being considered as a shareholder. If so, that would make things more difficult for her. She fought constantly to prove that she was as good as any male attorney on staff. To her way of thinking, she’d met that goal. But again, that wasn’t her call.
Once in the ladies’ room, Hallie glanced in the mirror. She didn’t look any different, except that her translucent skin appeared more flushed than usual. And there was a gleam in her chocolate-colored eyes that heretofore hadn’t been there.
Indeed, things were looking up, and she couldn’t be more pleased.
That thought was very much on her mind as she walked into her scenic office.
“Hello, Hallie.”
She pulled up short and felt her stomach drop to her toes. “How did you get in here?” Hallie knew that was a foolish question and didn’t deserve an answer. Her secretary, Pearl, wouldn’t have any qualms about letting this particular man in.
“How are you?” His beautiful lips moved, but she barely realized he’d answered her with a question.
Since her throat was too tight to speak, she simply stared at her former fiancé. Jackson Cole was standing in front of the huge window that dominated her office. Every nerve in Hallie’s body kicked into overdrive.
His black hair was now flecked with gray, and his vivid blue eyes were deeper in color and more compelling than ever. To label him tall, dark and handsome sounded trite, but it fit. Add the word charming, and he was instantly upgraded into the unforgettable category.
She wanted to turn and bolt, but of course she didn’t. She dug her heels into the floor and her nails into the palms of her hands. Even the sensation of pain failed to draw her attention.
It hit Hallie like a blow that he still had the ability to push her sexual buttons like no other man. Another blow followed that one—Jackson Cole was the only man she had ever loved.
How could she ever have let him go?
Fearing she had already let him see how his unexpected presence had affected her, Hallie walked forward and smiled, but didn’t dare extend her hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt.” She ignored the fact that her voice had a slight huskiness. She hoped he would, too.
He nodded, then said in his deep, smooth voice, “Apology accepted.”
For a split second, silence fell between them. As their eyes met and held, the electricity bouncing between them made more noise than any conversation could have.
“I’m assuming you have a reason for being here,” she said, having regained most of her composure. At least that huskiness was gone.
“As good as it gets.”
Now that she was past the initial shock of seeing him, she noticed that he appeared a bit subdued, that his usual charm wasn’t in evidence. And his voice had a rough, almost sarcastic edge to it, not at all in character for him. Or it hadn’t been, she corrected mentally. People could do a lot of changing in two years.
“What’s wrong, Jackson?” she asked, fighting the desire to sink into the nearest chair. But as long as he stood, she would, too. She couldn’t allow him to get the upper hand in any way.
“I’m in trouble, Hallie—” He paused, his lips thinning.
Her gaze lingered on them for a moment before she forced her eyes back to his.
“Or at least, I think I am,” he added.
“Trouble, as in needing an attorney?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
Trying to pretend he was just another client off the street, and not someone with whom she’d been uninhibitedly intimate, was one of the hardest feats she’d ever had to pull off. “Suppose you sit down and tell me what’s going on.”
When they were both seated, he blurted out, “Roberta’s dead.”
Later, Hallie would realize he hadn’t even bothered to give Roberta’s last name, because he’d known it wasn’t necessary. “When did she die? How?” Shock forced her to clear her voice.
“She was found this morning in her hotel room. She was strangled. And I seem to be the prime suspect.” When she didn’t speak, he went on, “Don’t look at me like that, Hallie. Surely you know I had nothing to do with it. But that’s not what the police think. They’ve asked me to come in for questioning.”
Questions that she had no right to ask circled her brain like vultures over a dead animal’s carcass. When had Roberta Klein come back into his life? But she refrained from voicing that personal thought, aghast that Roberta was dead and that Jackson was considered involved.
“You came to the right place,” she said, clearing her throat again. “Nathan James is the best criminal defense attorney in Memphis, maybe in the entire South.”
Jackson rose abruptly to his feet and stared down at her from his six-feet-plus height. “I don’t want Nathan James or whatever the hell his name is.”
Hallie’s eyes widened as she peered up at him.
“I want you to represent me.”
This time Hallie rose, shaking her head. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t. You’ve done plenty of criminal work, and as I remember, you were damn good at it.”
“You’re missing the point. The past two years, I’ve focused on divorce law. That’s become my expertise.”
“Please, Hallie.”
Those softly spoken words, backed by emotion, tore at her. Still, she held on to her resolve. “Jackson, you don’t know what you’re asking. If you’re in the kind of trouble you think you are, I’m not the attorney you need.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Okay, let me put it this way. Regardless of whether I’m qualified or not, I wouldn’t feel comfortable representing you. I don’t know how to make it any plainer.”
His mouth worked and he stared deeply into her eyes. “Please,” he said again. “I trust you, and you have to help me.”
Hallie opened her mouth, but the words froze in her throat.
Three
But I don’t trust you.
Though Hallie wanted to utter those words, she couldn’t; they dried up in her throat. Still, she was angry that Jackson had so brazenly appeared in her office, opening old wounds with both his unsettling presence and his raw demand.
“Hallie?”
The unspoken plea in his voice refocused her mind. Yet she stopped short of giving him a definitive answer, even though she knew this situation was grave and could spell disaster for him.
“I need time, Jackson,” she stalled, which was not like her at all, and he knew it. She had always been admired for her ability to think quickly on her feet, in an unpleasant situation or otherwise.
Right now, however, she was having a difficult time even thinking, much less thinking rationally. Apparently Jackson wasn’t having any qualms, or he wouldn’t have approached her. Or else he was desperate. With that thought jumping to the forefront of her mind, Hallie lifted her slender shoulders as if preparing for battle.
“I need your answer now,” Jackson said before she could break the heavy silence.
Chocolate-brown eyes met blue ones, and for a moment, Hallie couldn’t find her next breath. Jackson must have experienced the same smothering reaction, for his features darkened even more and he shifted his gaze.
“Why are you a suspect, Jackson?”
He rubbed his chin, which was beginning to show a slight stubble, further enhancing his sex appeal. “I was with Roberta last night.” His voice was brusque.
Hallie didn’t know why that blunt admission still had the power to prick her heart, but it did. She should feel bitterness and contempt. Instead, her response was far more personal. Ignoring those thoughts, she said, “You need to be more specific. With her could mean a number of things.”
Jackson’s eyes were bleak. “It’s not what you think.”
“You have no idea what I think,” she countered with quiet dignity. She was determined to keep this conversation professional and impersonal, until she could convince him that Nathan was the lawyer who could best serve him.
“You hate me, don’t you,” he said out of the blue.
Her stomach dropped, but she didn’t let on that his tortured words got to her. “Of course I don’t hate you.”
She didn’t hate him, but she did hate every second of his presence and this conversation. She didn’t want to know why he had been with Roberta and what they did. Two years ago, that woman had been a bone of contention between them, and now she was again, even in death.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to make this personal.”
“About Roberta,” she pressed, ignoring his apology.
“She showed up at the club after a long absence. She was in a mess.”
“A mess, how?”
“A mental and emotional wreck.”
“And you felt sorry for her.” Hallie paused. “Again.”
“Okay, so I felt like I owed—” His jaw stiffened, cutting off his sentence.
“I know how you feel about that,” Hallie said, “so there’s no use repeating it.”
Jackson flushed but he didn’t comment. Instead, he said, “I took her to dinner to try and calm her down.”
“Seems like I’ve heard that before.”
This time, Jackson’s face drained of color. She had struck a nerve and it showed. Hallie reminded herself of the reason for her question. All she wanted was to get enough information from him to warrant calling the firm’s heaviest criminal gun. Nathan didn’t take kindly to having his time wasted. Perhaps Jackson wasn’t in as much trouble as he thought. Once she proved or disproved that, then she’d know where to go from there.
“Sorry, I was out of line.” Her tone was much huskier than she would’ve liked.
“In hindsight,” Jackson said, “I know that taking her out was not a smart move. After dinner, she seemed calmer, and I took her back to her hotel. That was the last time I saw her.”
Hallie remained silent, battling a dull roar in her head.
“You know me, Hallie. I could never have done such a heinous thing.” His eyes were dark and pleading.
“I know, Jackson. That’s why you’re still in my office.”
“But I want to explain about Roberta, especially if—”
She held up her hand, cutting him off again. “Your personal relationship with her is no longer my concern.” He was free to boff anyone he wanted, including Roberta Klein.
“It’s your concern if you’re going to represent me.”
“I haven’t said I’d represent you.”
They stared at each other hard and long.
“Please,” he said, stopping just short of begging.
She heard the break in his voice and it got to her. Again. Jackson might be many things—he was a liar, for sure—but a murderer, no. A man with such a capacity for giving and loving could never bring bodily harm to a woman. So did that mean her resolve to not get involved was weakening? Heaven help her if it was. But when he looked at her like that, she couldn’t deny him anything.
“Look, I’ll take over for now, but only if you agree to meet with Nathan.”
“Fine. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“I’m not finished yet. If it looks like there’s going to be a trial, Nathan will have to take my place in the pecking order.”
At the word trial, he blanched, then asked, “Why?”
“That’s the deal, Jackson. Take it or leave it. I’m not about to jeopardize your life by my lack of experience.”
“I’ll take it.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What choice do I have?” A tinge of bitterness had crept into his tone.
“Plenty. For starters, you can go to another firm.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Hallie Hunter.” He paused, sighing deeply, though his features seemed to have become less gaunt since he’d won the first round.
“I told Detective Gomez I’d avail myself for questioning.”
“Are you talking about today? Now?”
Jackson grimaced. “I’d like to get it over with—if you can spare the time, that is.”
She couldn’t, but she would just have to make the time. He was right; to postpone the trek to the police station wouldn’t make it any less palatable for either of them.
“What’s this detective like?” she asked, unfamiliar with Gomez.
“He’s cocky and self-assured.”
During her court appointments on criminal cases, she’d gotten to know many of the ranking detectives and for the most part had developed a good rapport with them. But since she’d been out of the criminal loop for a while, she’d lost her contacts. This Gomez must be a new kid on the block or a transfer.
“Then, we’ll just have to un-cock him,” she said with her usual self-assurance.
For the first time since she’d walked into the room, Jackson smiled. The change was as sudden as it was shocking. Her breath caught as the flush of unwanted heat swept through her.
If he noticed her reaction, he didn’t show it, for which she was most grateful. “Are you ready?” she asked in as normal a voice as she could muster.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Hallie paused at the door and looked up at him. “Let me handle things. Until I know what Gomez has, we’ll play our cards close to our chest.”
“I’ll do whatever you say.”
Swallowing a sigh, Hallie squared her shoulders and walked out of the room, fully conscious of Jackson matching her step for step. As long as her commitment wasn’t set in stone, what she was about to undertake would be tolerable. Otherwise…
Hallie shook that thought aside as they left the building and headed for his BMW, hoping for the best and fearing the worst.
“Thanks for coming in so soon, Mr. Cole.”
“No problem.”
Detective Gomez turned to Hallie and extended his hand. After introductions were completed, Hallie decided Jackson’s opinion of the detective was right on target. Cocky. Young. And good-looking.
Gomez smiled at Hallie—a smile that rubbed her the wrong way, maybe because it was as smug as it was suggestive.
“I’ve heard of your firm.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hallie said in a cool tone.
He seemed to think for a second, then his smile disappeared. “No need to be defensive. Some of my friends are defense attorneys. Like Ernie Sanders, for example.”
“Mr. Sanders must not have been that good a friend, Mr. Gomez,” Hallie replied, “or you’d know he died last month.”
“Oh, that’s when he became my best friend, ma’am.”
Hallie stiffened at the direct slam, but before she could make a suitable comeback, Gomez seemed to remember his manners.
“Please, have a seat, both of you. Then perhaps we can get this matter cleared up quickly.”
Once they were seated in his shoebox of an office, he asked, “Can I get you something to drink? Some coffee? Or a Coke?”
Their “no, thank you” came simultaneously.
Gomez shrugged, then helped himself to a cup of coffee. He seemed in no hurry to bring this session to an end, despite his claim to the contrary.
Hallie could feel Jackson’s unrest. He appeared coiled and ready to spring. It was going to be an effort for him to keep his mouth shut and let her do the talking. She sensed right off that the detective and Jackson would tangle if there was no one to referee.
She would have to keep Jackson on a short leash; words said in frustration in a detective’s office had a way of taking on more meaning in the courtroom, and she did not want her client hanging himself because he got angry.
Silence. Two, then three minutes, without a word. Gomez sat across the desk from them, sipping coffee and watching Jackson. When he finally spoke, it jolted Hallie out of her reverie.
“So, were you sleeping with the dead woman, Mr. Cole?”
“No, I was not. And I didn’t kill her, either.”
More silence. Although Hallie didn’t want to look at Jackson, didn’t want to see his face, she had no choice. This was a murder investigation, and no matter how difficult this line of questioning was for her personally, she couldn’t back down. Better to get the ugly question out in the open early.
Jackson’s face had darkened, and he muttered an obscenity. Hallie reached out and placed a hand on his arm. It was hard and rigid, but her touch seemed to calm him immediately.
Another minute passed before Gomez spoke again. “So, tell me about Roberta Klein, Mr. Jackson.”
Jackson looked at Hallie and she gave him a nod, indicating that he was free to answer.
“We are…were…lifelong friends,” Jackson said.
“Then, you saw her often?”
“Not really, at least not in the last year.”
“Oh? Lover’s spat, and she moved out?”
Hallie spoke up. “I think my client has answered that already, Detective. He told you they were not…intimate.”
“For one thing, she didn’t live in Memphis,” Jackson said. “As you know.”
“So she just showed up on your doorstep like some baby wrapped in a blanket, so to speak?” Gomez made no effort to hide his smirk.
Jackson nodded. “That’s exactly what she did.”
“Was she in the habit of doing that? Just showing up at any old time she pleased?”
“In the past, yes.”
“So she felt comfortable—completely at ease—just dropping by out of the blue?”
“One has to assume so.”
“We’re discussing you, Cole.” Gomez’s tone was sharp. “Did she assume so, too?”
“What’s your question, Detective?” Hallie asked in a cold, firm voice, her patience wearing thin.
As if he sensed that, Gomez said, “I understand you took her home.”
“That’s right. I dropped her off rather early, then I left.”
“How was she?” Gomez paused. “When you left.”
Jackson ignored the rich sarcasm in the detective’s voice and asked, “What do you mean?”
Another smirk at the double entendre. “Had she been drinking?”
“A little. Some.”
“Did anything…unusual happen?”
“No,” Jackson said.
More silence. Hallie sensed Jackson’s desire to fill the time with words, but when she laid her hand on his arm a second time, he remained quiet. After two minutes, Gomez got up and poured himself another cup of coffee, his eyes still on Jackson.
Finally, he sat back down, took a slurping sip and set the cup down. “Are you sure, Cole, that the two of you weren’t making it? Doin’ the deed? Wrinklin’ the sheets? Swappin’—”
“Enough, Detective,” Hallie said, already on her feet. “We’re out of here this minute.” She knew a fishing expedition when she heard one. “Do you have any evidence against my client, Gomez? It’s neither a crime nor a sin to be the last person to see someone alive.”
“But I’m not through questioning Mr. Cole.”
“Yes, you are. If you intend to scrape a case together, Gomez, you’ll have to do it without our help.”
Gomez’s already dark features darkened further as he focused his attention on Jackson, who was standing so close to Hallie that she could hear his labored breathing.
“I was hoping for more cooperation from you, Mr. Cole.”
“He’s been more than cooperative, Detective. You chose the low road, but we’re not taking it. If you want to see Mr. Cole again, bring some evidence—a warrant. And just for the record, he will answer no more questions for you.”
“Oh, I’ll bring my warrant, all right, Ms. Hunter. But all in good time. There’s no statute of limitations on murder.”
Hallie fastened the middle button of the jacket of her pants outfit. “You have your job, Detective. Go to it. Mine is to see that you don’t violate my client’s rights, and I take that just as seriously as you do.”
“No doubt the three of us will meet again,” Gomez said.
“Possibly, but there won’t be any questions the next time.”
“So you’re absolutely refusing to allow Mr. Cole to talk to me again?”
“I never say never, Detective,” Hallie said. “If you brought a fresh attitude and a smattering of knowledge about the Bill of Rights to our next session, I might reconsider.” Then, turning to Jackson, she added, “Are you ready?”
Together they left the building. Outside, the late afternoon air had turned chilly, but it was a lovely evening. A perfect night to spend with a lover next to a smoldering fire sipping on a glass of wine, Hallie thought.
Although mortified at the sudden image, Hallie knew the reason for it. Jackson. He had awakened old and buried yearnings. During the time they were engaged, they had done that very thing more times than she could count. The result had always been a sweet but fiery tumble between the sheets.
“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” he commented in a husky voice.
“I wouldn’t know,” she snapped.
“Hallie?”
“What?”
Jackson’s eyebrows rose. “Why are you angry at me? Did I say something wrong in there?”
“No. It’s just been a long day and I’m tired.”
His lips thinned.
“Be in my office first thing tomorrow morning,” she said. “I want you to meet Nathan.”
“Then, you’re not interested in joining me for a cup of coffee?”
She faced him then and their eyes met. Tension, hot and heavy, leapt between them. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”
His sigh was deep and ragged. “You’re probably right. It isn’t.”
“Just take me back to my car. Please.”
Four
Jackson parked at the rear of the club and slipped in through his private back entrance. He didn’t want to see or talk to anyone—which was not his usual modus operandi.
As much as he trusted and looked to Terrance for help and guidance, Elan was his baby and he made it a point to be hands-on. Usually a mere stroll through the premises was exactly what he needed to make it through his long days. However, he had started cutting back on the hours he spent at the club, determined to finally get a “normal” life. But the transition was difficult, if not impossible, especially of late.
Since his breakup with Hallie two years ago, he had gone through the motions of living—feeling nothing, touching nothing. That way he’d been off the hook emotionally, which had been the only way he could hold body and soul together.
And his strategy had worked, enabling him to awaken each morning without that burning pain in his heart. But then things started to backfire, and once again his life seemed to change faster than a crashing stack of dominoes.
Jackson walked to the bar in his office and helped himself to a drink. It didn’t help, so he set the empty glass down and went to his desk. But sitting wasn’t the answer, either. He felt like ants were crawling through his insides; he walked to the window and stared outside.
The evening, like the day, was magical. The trees, swayed by the brisk wind, sent their multicolored leaves cascading to the ground. He watched the soothing sight for a moment, then turned around. He should call Terrance and let him know he was back. He owed it to his assistant to inform him of what had transpired at the police station, but he wasn’t ready. He needed more time alone to get his jumbled thoughts in some kind of logical order.
Murder.
Such an ugly word. It made him shudder to his core. The very idea that he could be accused of such an act was incomprehensible. So too was the image of Roberta’s lifeless body. She had been his lifelong friend, for heaven’s sake.
He rubbed the back of his head and muttered an expletive. Brooding over his present predicament wasn’t doing him any good. By seeking Hallie’s counsel, he’d taken the necessary steps to head off this impending disaster. The best thing he could do now was to visit with Terrance, then mingle with the customers.
But he still didn’t feel like facing anyone. That feel-nothing, touch-nothing mood had invaded his system again.
The phone suddenly rang, jarring him. He grabbed it and said, “Cole.”
“Ah, I’m glad I caught you.”
At the sound of the low, familiar voice, red hot fury boiled inside him. “I told you to stop calling me, you bastard.”
“Now, now, is that any way to talk to someone who has your best interest at heart?”
“Heart?” Jackson gave a harsh laugh. “You wouldn’t know about that, since you don’t have one.”
“If you persist in refusing to sell,” the caller continued, “we’ll find a way to take over, to force you out.”
“Then, I suggest you give it your best shot.” Jackson slammed down the receiver. But so much for his bravado. He felt gutted on the inside, a feeling he despised as much as he despised them and their bullying tactics.
Damn them, the organized crime faction that was determined to bring him down.
Lately the pressure had increased relentlessly. They seemed more hell-bent each day on buying him out, chipping away at his resolve.
Why him? Why his place? Why not one of the countless other clubs on the drag? He’d wrestled with those questions until he’d come up with several reasonable answers. Elan was slightly off to itself, making it more secluded, yet still accessible. In addition, the building property had more square footage and more land.
No matter. He’d dug his heels in and had no intention of budging.
He wondered suddenly if his implication in Roberta’s murder wasn’t Mafia related. They had the resources and connections to frame him. Having reached that conclusion, shouldn’t he tell Hallie?
Not yet. He had no intention of involving her in a dangerous game with the mob. Besides, she had enough to do looking after his legal worries. Too, handling this crisis was a responsibility he wasn’t about to put off on anyone else. He would take care of things himself. He always had.
None of the success he had obtained had come easy. Life had dealt him some cruel blows, beginning with the death of his mother in an auto accident when he was eleven years old.
Left with his father, an alcoholic who owned two bars, Jackson had very little home life and virtually no parental love or supervision. He spent most of his out-of-school time hanging around bars, until he met Roberta’s mother, Ruby.
In the evenings, she often frequented one of his father’s clubs, yet Ruby had used restraint in her drinking. Jackson had met her one evening when she had approached him to play a game of pool.
From then on, she had taken pity on him, and often invited him to her house to share pot roast dinners with her family. Ruby had a son, Edgar, who was never there, and Roberta, who was several years Jackson’s senior. He, Ruby and Roberta, three misfits, had become firm friends. He would never forget the fond times he’d spent at their home, even though the environment was certainly no June Cleaver haven.
At the time, however, he was grateful for any crumb of womanly compassion he could get. Ruby and Roberta had helped buffer his acute loneliness and build his self-esteem.
Once he graduated from college with a degree in business, he was determined to make something of himself away from the nightlife. But when his dad died unexpectedly, he found himself saddled with the responsibility of the bars. After selling one, he had borrowed more money and turned the other into Elan on Beale Street.
He had been successful beyond his wildest expectations. Yet there was something missing from his life—a sense of real belonging, a sense of roots. At one time, he thought he had found the answer to those needs in Hallie, only to lose her by betraying her trust.
Granted, he had been less than honest with her about his relationship with Roberta. After the fact, he rationalized that he and Hallie would not have made it anyway. Her career was going full steam ahead while his was winding down. And she hadn’t been particularly eager to have children, while he was.
Nonetheless, he had never stopped loving her or wanting her. He carried with him every sound, smell and taste of her. Though he hated that weakness, he was powerless to shake it.
“So why ask Hallie for help?” He realized he’d spoken aloud when his voice penetrated the silence in the room.
It was an insane move; he was far too vulnerable where she was concerned. Just seeing her had made him throb with that old intense longing. But a desperate man did desperate things.
And like he’d told her, he trusted her. Even if he hadn’t known her personally, hadn’t had a hot, intimate relationship with her, he would have sought her out. Her reputation as a tough officer of the court was widespread. She was both respected and admired. When it came to her clients, she was feisty and fearless in defending them.
He had met her by accident, or maybe it had been fate. They had both been at a party for the rich and famous at a rival nightclub. He hadn’t wanted to go, but Terrance had insisted, reminding Jackson he needed to get out of his cocoon and see what the competition was up to.
He had agreed, though with no real enthusiasm.
He hadn’t been interested in a permanent relationship with a woman. Nonetheless, he suspected that was what Terrance’s urging was all about. For sure, Jackson had had plenty of women. A man didn’t reach forty without having had his share of affairs.
But that was exactly what they had been—affairs. None of the women he’d been involved with had been what he considered “wife material,” though he wasn’t sure he knew what that meant. He’d been too busy with the club to think in those terms. Besides, tying the knot had scared the hell out of him. He’d been alone too long to take a waltz down the aisle.
The second he had walked into the club, where a band was playing a waltz, he’d felt out of place. Terrance had left him on his own almost immediately, having spotted a woman whom he’d dated. Jackson was about to turn and walk out the same door he’d come in, when he saw her. He’d stopped dead in his tracks.
He thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was tall and thin with spectacular chocolate-colored hair, a lovely face and shapely legs—a Southern beauty in all her glory.
When she smiled, the effect was electric. He had fallen madly in love on the spot.
If she’d been with a man, perhaps he wouldn’t have had the courage to approach her. She appeared to be alone. As though his legs had a will all their own, he moved toward her. Something made her turn and face him directly. He paused for a second and their eyes met. An electric current seemed to instantly connect them. It hadn’t been his imagination, either. That radiant smile on her face had slipped a bit while something unidentifiable jumped into her eyes.
Finally, he reached her and, without mincing words, said, “Would you like to dance?”
“I don’t make a habit of dancing with strangers.”
Her voice was as sexy as her body—husky and warm. He felt himself turn hard and prayed she wouldn’t notice.
“I can take care of that. I’m Jackson Cole.” He held out his hand. At first she appeared reluctant to touch him but then she did. When he grasped her thin hand, that current shot all the way up his arm. He knew she experienced the same sensation—she withdrew her hand immediately, her eyes wide.
“And you are?” he asked into the blistering silence.
“Hallie Hunter.”
He smiled. “Since we’re no longer strangers, shall we dance?”
“Suppose I don’t want to dance with you?”
He peered deeply into her eyes as he lowered his voice. “Only you do, don’t you.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself, Mr. Cole.”
“Jackson,” he corrected.
Before she could answer him, he reached out and pulled her gently into his arms, then onto the dance floor.
Heady stuff.
The feel and smell of her body against him penetrated his skin and went straight to his heart. She was utterly captivating, and he prayed the song would never end, so he wouldn’t have to let her go. Yet when it ended, she made no effort to leave his arms.
“I like your style, Mr. Cole,” she said with a confident smile, displaying her delightful dimple.
“Jackson,” he reminded her.
She laughed. “All right, Jackson.”
“So when can I see you again?”
She gave him a sassy look. “How do you know I’m free?”
“Are you?”
“Yes.” That tiny word came out a whisper.
“So am I, which means we have a green light.”
“For what?”
“To make love,” he whispered. “Tonight.”
She gasped. Then he did something he’d never done spontaneously before. He drew her even closer and lowered his lips to hers with explosive force.
From then on, they were inseparable, and within weeks they were officially engaged. And all was well in paradise, until Roberta reentered his life and ripped the bloom off the rose.
Now, disgusted with the direction his thoughts had taken, Jackson shook himself and walked back to the bar, then poured himself another drink. But he knew that drinking wasn’t the answer.
Regardless of how much booze he put in his body, it couldn’t override his thoughts of Hallie. She had set up housekeeping in his head and heart forever. He still loved her; her absence in his life hadn’t changed that.
But he couldn’t think about Hallie in those terms. She had moved on and up and was totally lost to him. In order not to lose himself, he had to concentrate on getting out of this latest trouble. With the mob breathing hot and heavy down his neck, there was no way he could afford to be charged with murder, arrested, and detained indefinitely. Suddenly he felt as though he had a ticking time bomb strapped to his body.
He must remain completely focused, no matter how much he would like to concentrate on Hallie and what might have been.
Five
Hallie loved her home.
The only problem was, she didn’t get to spend nearly as much time there as she would have liked. But it was by choice that she put in such long hours at the office. Without a husband or children to come home to, advancing in her career had been her goal. Now it appeared it was her life.
If she thought about that fact too much, it would depress her, so she made a conscious effort not to. Sighing, she plopped her briefcase in the nearest chair in the living room, then paused and surveyed her surroundings, which never failed to lift her spirits.
Brightened by the recessed ceiling lights, the spacious living area was an eclectic mixture of vivid colors and textures. A hodgepodge of family photos, books, antique cups and saucers occupied the shelves in the custom-made entertainment center.
In place of drapes, she had chosen white wooden shutters. During the day she opened them, letting the sunshine filtrate the room, giving it warmth and light. After sundown, the glow of the fireplace and burning candles replaced the sunlight.
After turning on the gas logs and lighting a couple of candles, Hallie walked to the windows. The gas lanterns were on, allowing her full view of the patio. First to greet her eyes were the mums she’d planted. She called them her pots of gold.
When she had any spare time, which wasn’t often, she loved to dig in the dirt, then watch her handiwork grow. That was often her panacea after a long, tension-filled day at the firm.
A year ago she had decided to bite the bullet and purchase this garden home with a fenced-in yard and patio. Until then, she had lived in a condo, where she had felt cramped and claustrophobic. She hadn’t been sorry a day since she’d made the change, though she didn’t spend as much time here as she had planned. She hoped that would soon change, especially after she made partner. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so pressured.
Hallie suddenly laughed without humor. Who was she kidding? She’d probably feel more pressured than ever. But then, that was her personality and she made no apologies for it. She lived in a high-maintenance mode and was structured to a fault. Behind her back, her co-workers referred to her as uptight, which didn’t bother her at all. She did her job well and with confidence. No apologies were in order.
Closing the shutters, Hallie made her way into her bedroom and immediately began to discard her clothing, shoes first. She felt exhausted from her bout with the Dryers and raw from her encounter with Jackson. She didn’t like surprises, and she had received two of them today.
While the Dryers were a pain in the rear, she could handle the divorcing couple. But Jackson was a different matter.
Why now? she asked herself, heading to the bathroom where she immediately stepped into the shower. Turning on the hot water, she anticipated that the feel of it against her skin would relax her. Instead, the water cascading down her body brought unwanted images to mind, images of her and Jackson in the shower, ending with him lifting her wet, slippery body up around his waist, then penetrating her high and hard.
Feeling herself grow wet, and not from the water, Hallie shut off the faucet, climbed out and dried herself with haste. Even after donning her robe and making herself a cup of tea, her emotions were still on high alert.
She took several deep breaths and eased onto the chaise lounge in her sitting area. Pale green and cream were the primary colors in the room. A faux technique similar to marbleizing had been used to paint the walls. A four-poster bed with a step stool added a touch of class. Pillows and potted plants provided the finishing touches. Like her living area, her bedroom was supposed to calm her, to give her a feeling of coziness, to shield her from the world.
It had. Until now.
The phone rang and she flinched. Her first thought was to not answer it, but it might be her sister, Darcy. She hadn’t heard from her in several days, which was not a good sign.
Knowing that her voice mail would soon pick up, Hallie reached for the receiver and lifted it.
“Hallie.”
She hadn’t even said hello before he said her name. Her pulse rate automatically accelerated as she clutched the receiver tighter.
“Why are you calling me at home, Jackson?”
“I take it that’s a no-no.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
He hesitated several beats, then said, “Okay, I’m sorry. But I couldn’t remember if I thanked you for taking my case.”
“I haven’t taken your case, exactly, but yes, you thanked me.”
Silence.
“It was good to see you, Hallie, after all this time.” His voice had grown low and husky.
She crossed her legs and tried to control her labored breathing. Would she ever get over the hots for this man? Even through the phone lines, the heat fizzed. She suspected he felt it, too. Yet she was loath to end the conversation.
“It was good to see you, too.” And it was, though she was loath to admit that, too.
“I know I shouldn’t say this—”
“You probably shouldn’t,” she responded in a weak voice.
“If you don’t want to hear it, then you’ll have to hang up.”
She stayed on the line.
“I’ve missed you like hell.”
She had missed him, too, but that was hard to admit. She didn’t want a relationship with Jackson, personally or professionally. It was simply too dangerous to her newfound peace of mind. Actually, it would be tantamount to personal and professional suicide.
The afternoon’s civility had remained in place, but underneath was the awareness of what it was like to jump each other’s bones in a rash and heated moment. She couldn’t work under those conditions.
“Jackson, please, don’t go there. It will force me to turn you over to Nathan now or send you to another firm.” In spite of her efforts, her voice shook.
“I know.” He spoke in that same sexy and husky tone. “But I had to say it.”
“You’ve said it, so let’s move on.”
“I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night,” she said with as much coolness as she could muster.
After she hung up the phone, Hallie’s entire body trembled with a hunger that stunned her. She hadn’t been with a man since she and Jackson had split up. For the longest time, she had missed not only the great sex between them but the companionship. When their engagement ended, it was like one of her limbs had been severed.
But time and work had smothered those longings and she’d manage to regroup and go on.
If it hadn’t been for Roberta Klein’s death, her state of mind and body would still be intact. Thoughts of the deceased woman raised her pulse rate again, but for a different reason.
While she hadn’t wished Jackson’s old friend any ill will, Roberta had been one of the reasons why Hallie hadn’t married Jackson. It was only after they had become engaged that she realized how close Roberta and Jackson were. Roberta popped in and out of his life whenever she felt like it, and he seemed to find nothing amiss.
He’d even admitted to having slept with Roberta, but only once. After that admission, Hallie had told him the situation with Roberta was something she’d rather not have to deal with. Jackson had assured her he would handle it.
Weeks later, she had received a surprise visit from Roberta herself. More curious than anything, Hallie had invited her in, preparing herself to be as cordial as possible.
But cordiality had been the furthest thing from Roberta’s mind. She hadn’t minced any words. “Jackson might marry you, Hallie, but it’ll always be me he loves.”
Hallie had been so taken aback by Roberta’s boldness and the venom in her tone, she’d been speechless, which had given Roberta the opportunity to add insult to injury.
“I guess if you’re prepared to share him, then by all means go ahead and marry him.”
Some time during Roberta’s tirade, Hallie had managed to regain her composure and her voice. “No way am I willing to share Jackson. But then, I don’t have to. He told me you’re no longer part of his life.”
Roberta gave a toss of her long red curls and spread her glossed lips into a confident smirk. “Then, he lied to you, my dear. I just saw him two days ago. We had lunch. Jackson will never forsake me for you or any other woman.”
With that bombshell, Roberta had swept regally to the door and walked out without looking back.
Feeling blindsided and enraged, Hallie had lost no time in confronting Jackson.
“Aw, baby,” he’d said, “she’s just spouting off. Don’t pay any attention to her.”
“Did you take her to lunch?”
“No.”
“But you did see her, didn’t you?”
“She’s a friend, Hallie, and that’s all.”
“That’s not what she says.”
“Whatever she told you is just wishful thinking on her part.”
“She said you loved her and always would.”
He swore. “Surely you don’t believe that.”
“After her vicious attack, I don’t know what to believe.”
His features softened, and his voice turned cajoling. “How can you say that? I love you more than anything else in this world. What we have is rare and special and has been from the beginning.”
“You never answered my question, Jackson.”
“What was it?” he said with less patience in his voice.
“Have you been seeing her?”
“Okay, she was strung-out on prescription drugs, and I helped bail her out of trouble.”
“Just once?”
“No. Twice.”
Hallie swept a hand through her hair, then peered at him, knowing he would see the agony in her eyes. “You have no intention of putting her out of your life, do you.”
“If you mean, am I going to just dump her forever, the answer is no.”
Her face turned hot. “Dumping was hardly what I had in mind.”
“Oh, I think it was.”
Hallie jutted her chin. “Look, maybe we need a cooling-off period. Maybe we shouldn’t see each other for a while.”
“As in, not get married?” Jackson’s voice was filled with horror.
“Not anytime soon.”
“That’s crazy.” His tone revealed his shock. “You can’t mean that.”
“Oh, I mean it, all right. You’ve betrayed my trust, Jackson. In my view, that’s unforgivable.”
And she had meant every word. In light of her up-bringing, trust was a huge factor with her. When someone broke or violated a trust, for whatever reason, she hadn’t much use for them.
And that included Jackson.
“I won’t let you do this, Hallie.”
“It’s too late.” Before she realized what she was doing, she had pulled off her ring and handed it to him.
His face ashen and his lips stretched thin, he had walked out of her life.
That had been two years ago. But since seeing him today, those years seemed to have melted away.
Which scared her senseless.
She wanted no distractions. She only wanted to perfect and implement a new approach to divorce known as collaborative family law. The process, aimed at making divorce less acrimonious and more cooperative among the parties, was her claim to fame and her assurance of a partnership. Nothing must interfere.
Like Jackson’s, her rise to professional success had not been easy. The oldest of eight siblings, she was always responsible for someone other than herself. Her father had deserted her mother when her youngest sister, Darcy, was born. From then on, Hallie’s mother drilled into her that she should never trust a man for her livelihood or anything—that she could only count on herself.
Hallie’s only break from her dreary home life had been school, where she excelled in every subject with the help of her aunt, a successful attorney. Sharon Hunter was a strong woman who saw potential in Hallie and often brought her to her office.
There Hallie had learned about law and had become determined to become a lawyer when she grew up. Through scholarships and the help of her aunt Sharon, she had attended college and graduated magna cum laude with a degree in political science.
Her mother and her beloved aunt were now deceased, which technically placed her at the head of the family. Her siblings, with the exception of Darcy, were scattered over the United States and she rarely had contact with them.
Hallie’s drive to succeed was all the more reason to stay focused and maintain a safe distance from Jackson. While she was perfectly capable of handling criminal matters, having been successful in the many court appointments received through the firm, she specialized now in divorce law. The logical, smart thing to do would be to just turn Jackson over to Nathan James and not look back.
This time her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing doorbell. She panicked, thinking Jackson might have decided to pay her a visit. No, she thought, even he wouldn’t be that brazen. Getting up, she trudged to the door and peered through her peephole.
Opening it, she exclaimed, “Darcy. What on earth…?”
Six
Darcy Cox didn’t bother to answer Hallie. Instead she brushed past her, then collapsed onto the sofa in dramatic fashion, muttering obscenities under her breath. Hallie smothered a sigh and tried to control her mounting temper and burgeoning frustration.
She couldn’t count the times Darcy had arrived unexpectedly, behaving in this manner. Each time it happened, Hallie swore she’d use tough love and send her sister on her way to fend for herself. To date, she hadn’t lived up to that unspoken promise.
What a waste. It was the first thought that jumped to Hallie’s mind as she looked at Darcy, head back and eyes closed. Even though she was only twenty-five, Darcy was a mess emotionally and physically.
Still, she was attractive, with blondish red hair, green eyes and a small-boned figure that she used to full advantage. She had been married twice already and had a daughter by her second husband, who had custody of the child—a fact that broke Hallie’s heart.
While Hallie adored Darcy, her sister was an ongoing disappointment. She only came around when she needed money or a place to camp out. Hallie had gotten her a job as a girl Friday with an advertising firm. But Hallie suspected she had lost that job and was back to her favorite pastime—spending time in bars.
Hallie had long believed her sister was an alcoholic, though Darcy refused to admit or accept it. Still, despite her promises to herself, Hallie always gave in when Darcy was in need, such as now.
“I know you’re pissed,” Darcy said, finally opening her eyes and fixing her gaze on Hallie.
“Concerned is a better word,” Hallie replied in a mild tone, despite her clenched insides.
Darcy gave her head a shake, her long silky hair swirling around her face and shoulders. “Yeah, right.” Her tone had grown sullen.
Hallie fought the urge to grab her and shake her. “Have you been drinking?” She hadn’t smelled alcohol on Darcy, but that didn’t mean anything. Vodka was often Darcy’s liquor of choice, especially when she wanted to conceal her drinking.
“No,” Darcy said, grabbing a pillow off the sofa and clutching it against her chest, her eyes turning venomous. “Why do you always think that?”
“Because it’s most always true.”
“It is not.”
“You look like hell, Darcy. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”
“Will you just get off my case, for heaven’s sake?”
Hallie thinned her lips. “Okay. So what do you want?”
“What makes you think I want something?”
This was also part of the game—act innocent, then pounce.
“I’ve had a bad day myself,” Hallie said, “not that you’re interested—” Her voice cracked. “Let’s cut to the chase before this conversation really turns nasty.”
“You hate me, don’t you.”
“No, Darcy, I don’t hate you. If I did, I wouldn’t keep letting you tramp all over me.”
Darcy muttered a nasty word. “No matter how hard I try, I can never be as perfect as you.” Her tone was bitter and full of hostility.
Hallie cringed. “I don’t recall ever expecting you to be like me.”
“You never said that, but I can read it in your eyes. You think I’m a failure.” She clutched the pillow tighter, and her eyes and voice grew fiercer. “But I’m not.”
Hallie bit down on her lower lip to refrain from retaliating. It would only add insult to injury. Anything she could say now would only add rich fuel to an already out-of-control fire. But none of what Darcy had said was true. Quite the contrary, in fact.
Hallie had gone overboard for her sister’s welfare, her efforts all stemming from unselfish love. However, Darcy would never be convinced of that, especially when she was in such a state, which was the majority of the time now. An overindulgence in alcohol never failed to alter her personality.
When she wasn’t in such wild disarray, Darcy had a sweet, vulnerable side that touched not only Hallie but others with whom her sister came in contact. Her smile, when turned on full wattage, could charm a canary out of a cat’s mouth.
“How can I help?” Hallie finally asked into the long silence.
“I’d like something to eat.” Although Darcy’s tone still bordered on the sullen, at least she wasn’t in attack mode.
“How ’bout a bowl of soup?” Hallie couldn’t contain her eagerness. Darcy was far too thin, which Hallie was certain indicated she drank most of her meals. The idea that she might actually eat a meal was encouraging. “Or a chicken salad sandwich?”
The food had come from the deli near her firm, but both choices were excellent. Since she rarely cooked, Hallie had made it a point to find the best takeout places. Food was not a top priority for her, either, but not for the same reason as Darcy’s, thank goodness.
Darcy frowned, then shrugged her slender shoulders. “I’ll take the soup.”
Moments later, Hallie returned to the living room with a steaming bowl of vegetable soup and crackers. Unfortunately, Darcy only sipped two spoonfuls before shoving the bowl aside with a deeper frown. “That’s all I can eat.”
Hallie noticed that she looked green, but refrained from voicing her thoughts, not wanting to set Darcy off again. “Would you like to crash here for the night?”
“No.”
“Please. You look exhausted.” And ill, Hallie wanted to add, but again she kept her mouth shut.
“I need some money.”
Hallie’s heart sank. “What for?”
“Because I need it,” Darcy flared.
“Not good enough.”
“Damn you, Hallie. You’ve got more money than you can spend. Why make me beg?”
Hallie closed her eyes and counted to ten. She didn’t need this. Not today, not when she’d had the bricks knocked out from under her by Jackson’s unexpected appearance. Even now, thinking back on that moment made her weak all over.
“How much money I have is beside the point. If you’re going to buy more booze—”
Darcy lunged off the sofa, her sunken eyes blazing against her pale features. “All right, already,” she cried. “There’s a warrant out for my arrest.”
Hallie grabbed the back of the chair to keep her knees from buckling. “Oh, Darcy.”
“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. It’s for speeding tickets that I haven’t paid.”
Hallie suspected the explanation was a bald-faced lie. On second thought, maybe it wasn’t. Darcy knew it would be easy enough for Hallie to check that out. “How much do you need?”
Darcy told her. She went to her purse and counted out the bills. Once Darcy had stuffed the money into her jeans pocket, she turned and headed toward the door, only to pause, bend over and groan.
Hallie raced to her side. “What’s wrong?”
Darcy’s reply was to empty the contents of her stomach onto the hardwood floor.
Frightened and mortified, Hallie said, “Come on, let me help you to bed.”
Darcy shook her head. “No, I have to go.”
“But you’re sick.”
“It’ll pass. It always does.”
“You mean this has been happening consistently?”
“For a while. After I eat, mostly.”
“Darcy, please, don’t leave. You need help.”
“I got what I needed.” With that, she opened the door and disappeared into the night.
Sick at heart, Hallie dropped her head into her hands, her body trembling. What was wrong with Darcy? You didn’t just throw up all the time without reason.
Pregnancy?
Waves of horror went through Hallie. Was that why Darcy had come and why she’d wanted money?
Hallie closed her eyes and felt the tears saturate her face.
“How come you didn’t tell me you were back?”
At the sound of Terrance’s voice, Jackson turned and absently gestured with his hand. “I just needed some time alone.”
“Want me to leave?”
“No. Have a seat.”
“How ’bout I pour us a drink?”
Jackson shook his head. “No, thanks. I’ve already tried that.”
“Drinking yourself into oblivion, huh?”
“That’s about the size of it.” Jackson shoved a hand through his already mussed hair, then added, “But help yourself.”
“Nah, I’ve had my quota for the evening.” Terrance hitched his pants and sat down in one of the plush leather chairs near Jackson’s desk.
“So how are things going in the club tonight?” Jackson asked.
“So far it’s a good night, especially for a Wednesday.”
“If we have any crowd at all midweek, it’s great. I’d almost forgotten what day it is, so much has happened.”
“I’ve lined up several interviews with bands,” Terrance said, rubbing his mustache. “I’ve already heard two of them and both were damn good.”
“So it seems like we’re not going to have any trouble finding the best.” It felt good to talk about business, something mundane, and far afield from the troubles haunting him.
Terrance’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t go that far, unless we’re willing to pay some hefty bucks, but at least we have some choices.”
“Well, just keep me posted.” Jackson released a sigh. “Right now, the band’s not top priority on my agenda.”
“Doesn’t need to be.” Terrance’s tone was matter-of-fact. “That’s why you have me.”
“Believe me, I’m grateful for your loyalty.”
“No problem.” Terrance transferred his attention to stroking his beard. “Want to tell me how it went with Hallie, or is that off-limits?”
Jackson felt himself come alive. “It was great seeing her, actually. She’s as lovely and feisty as ever.”
“Damn shame the two of you didn’t make it. I thought you were a match made in heaven.”
Jackson’s gut twisted. “So did I, only she had other ideas.”
“I never really knew what busted you two up. I suspected Roberta had something to do with it, but since you never actually said—” Terrance seemed deliberately to leave his sentence open-ended, as if hoping for a pickup from Jackson.
Jackson wasn’t about to take the bait. The details of what had transpired between him and Hallie two years ago were under lock and key in his heart. Just seeing and thinking about her, what they had shared, had left his heart in shreds. He wasn’t a glutton for more punishment.
“So back to your dilemma,” Terrance said, as if realizing he’d pushed as far as he could. “How did Hallie receive you? Or is that off-limits as well?”
“Of course not.” Jackson’s return was sharper than he had intended, but then his nerves were already stretched to the max and the nightmare was just beginning. The fact he was a suspect in Roberta’s death would soon hit the papers, which would negate any secrecy or privacy. Besides, he owed Terrance an explanation.
“I’m sure when she walked in and saw me, it soured her day.” He tried to keep his voice light.
“Did she say that?”
“No, but she wasn’t jumping through hoops to welcome me, either.”
Terrance smiled before sighing deeply. Then he said, “Maybe I will have a drink.” He stood and eyed Jackson. “Sure you won’t join me?”
Jackson hesitated but only for a second. “Yeah, I think I will. A beer, maybe.”
The room fell silent while Terrance mixed his drink, then retrieved a beer for Jackson. The silence continued as they sipped on the beverages.
“Did she recommend someone in her firm to represent you?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“You’re damn lucky there. That firm’s the best in town.”
“I want Hallie to represent me.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I wouldn’t joke about that.” Jackson’s tone was harsh.
“No, no you wouldn’t,” Terrance replied, sounding troubled. “But Hallie’s not a bona fide criminal attorney, right?”
“Right, but she’s still my choice.”
Terrance’s eyebrows shot up. “So is she? Going to take you on, I mean?”
“For now.”
“What a helluva mess this has turned out to be.” If Terrance only knew the rest of the story. To date, he hadn’t revealed the fact that organized crime was trying to shove him out his own door. He was convinced he could handle the situation on his own and in his own way.
He hadn’t changed his mind, but the added stress of being under suspicion of murder certainly didn’t work in his favor. Still, he had no intention of laying his cards on the table to anyone. Not yet, anyway.
“Surely you won’t be arrested,” Terrance said into the silence.
“Let’s hope. My gut tells me this Gomez fellow thinks I’m as guilty as sin and aims to take me on.”
“That was my impression, too. Most likely he’s trying to make a name for himself, and he sees this case as the way to do it.”
“Who knows? But I’m not going to put up with much from him, I can tell you that.”
Terrance smiled. “Knowing you, I wouldn’t think so. He’s more than met his match, but I don’t think he realizes it.” Terrance’s smile widened. “When he does, he’ll back off.”
“Hallie won’t put up with him, either. When he didn’t have anything substantial to hold me on, she whisked me out of there in nothing flat.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Terrance took a healthy gulp from his glass. “What’s the next step?”
“I’m supposed to meet with their big criminal gun in the morning.” Jackson shrugged. “She’s insisting, so I have no choice.”
“You’d better look on it as a gift. If this thing turns nasty, and it very well could, then it may take both of them to keep you out of jail.”
“You’re a lot of comfort,” Jackson responded drolly.
“It’s the truth and you know it.”
Jackson rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles as tight as violin strings. “You’re right, I do. It’s just that—” He broke off, suddenly tired of talking. He was mentally and emotionally drained. However, he knew that if he went home and tried to sleep, his efforts would be in vain. His body and mind were on fire.
Besides, he needed to go into the club and make his usual rounds to the customers’ tables. He wanted to make sure they were happy and contented and getting their money’s worth. After all, satisfying the clientele was his strong suit and his main job.
As if the silence unnerved him, Terrance stood. “I guess I’d best get back out front. I need to make sure the DJ’s pleasing the dancers.”
“I was thinking the same thing—about going out front, that is.”
“I can handle things.”
“I don’t doubt it, but I need the personal contact, especially right now. I don’t particularly want to be alone with my thoughts.”
“I understand. But it’s going to be all right. Hallie’s a fireball who burns anyone who gets in her way. She’ll have Gomez straightened out in no time.”
For the first time that evening, Jackson grinned. “That’s one reason why I went to her.”
“But it’s not the only reason?”
“Yes, it is,” Jackson said coldly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to step out of bounds—”
Terrance left, leaving Jackson alone with his unsettling thoughts.
Seven
“No wonder you’re exhausted after the kids leave for the bus.”
Maria Gomez sank into the dining room chair across from her husband and smiled. “It’s about time you saw the morning fiasco.”
Detective Knox Gomez gave her a leering grin. “I was about to suggest we grab a quickie before I left for the station.”
Maria picked up a piece of cold toast from one of the kids’ plates and threw it at him, though a grin spread across her wide features. “In your dreams.”
“Why not? They’re free.” Gomez sobered. “We haven’t had much time alone lately.”
Maria’s dark, expressive eyes widened. “And whose fault is that? You’re never home anymore, Knox.”
“I know, and I’m not happy about it.”
“Then, do something about it. The kids miss you.”
“And I miss them.”
Maria had started to gather the breakfast plates left by the three children when Knox reached out a hand and stopped her. “That can wait. I’d like your attention for a while.”
Maria paused and narrowed her eyes. “I’d like that as well, only not in the morning when we both should be at work.”
“That’s what I’d like to talk to you about. I want you to quit your job and stay home.”
“You’re asking the impossible. We’re barely making ends meet now.”
“Maybe that’s about to change.”
Maria raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Maybe we might even have another baby.”
That brought Maria to her feet. “You can forget that, Knox.”
He frowned. “You don’t have the final say, you know.”
“Since it’s the wear-and-tear on my body, I feel I have the majority vote.” She stared down at him. “If that’s what you want to talk about, I’m not interested.”
His lips tightened. “You’re not doing anything I wouldn’t approve of, are you?”
“Like taking birth control pills?”
His tanned skin flushed. “Yes.”
“No, but I’m not ruling them out.”
“Dammit, Maria, you’d better go talk to Father Sanchez.”
“You go talk to him.”
There was a heavy silence, then Gomez said, “Look, I’m sorry I got you upset. I didn’t mean to. I actually wanted to tell you about the case I’m working on.”
“Really?” Maria said, surprise in her voice as she sat back down. “That’s a first.”
“I’ve been assigned to investigate the murder of the woman found strangled in that hotel.”
“A feather in your cap, huh?”
“You bet. The primary suspect is a rich swinger named Jackson Cole.”
“The name doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“Cole owns one of those swanky clubs over on Beale Street. And because of who he is, the case is probably going to be high profile. In fact, it already is.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, if I crack it and prove this guy did it, then I’ll win favor in the chief’s eyes.”
“Which might translate into a promotion?” Maria’s voice was hopeful.
“It could, though that’s not a given. Still, it would certainly boost my standing in the department.”
“I know that’s important to you, but it’s more money we need—which is exactly why I can’t quit my job.”
Gomez got up and shifted his holster farther back on his belt, his features grim. “If I do solve this case, I’m going to ask for a raise.”
Maria crossed the room and pecked him on the cheek. “You go for it.”
After she left the dining room, Gomez released a deep sigh, hating how he felt like a failure. Of the wives of his Latino buddies, his was the only one who worked. But he’d married a more independent woman than his friends had. While he’d known that, he’d thought he could change her. Seven years of marriage and three kids later, he hadn’t made much progress. He hadn’t been home enough to accomplish that goal.
As a kid, he couldn’t get enough of playing cops and robbers with his friends. The game had turned into his dream. When that dream had come true, he’d worked like a dog to be the best officer he could, which meant taking any and all assignments.
Now, he had an opportunity to prove his worth, to show his superiors just how good he was. Like he’d told Maria, this big case was his chance to shine, and shine he would. He peered at the dishes on the table and for a moment thought about surprising Maria and cleaning up.
But the notion passed. Woman’s work. He had more important things to do. Slapping on his hat, he made his way to the door.
“You’d better look out, Jackson Cole,” he muttered. “I’m about to become your worst nightmare.”
The morning was gorgeous but rather chilly. Hallie had wanted to have coffee on her patio, but the brisk wind had sent her scurrying back inside.
With that in mind, she’d dressed accordingly, while still conscious of what the day would bring. In the end, she had probably gone a bit overboard in dressing as the true professional. However, her dark-green designer suit did nothing to subdue her thin, shapely figure, or diminish her creamy skin and the punky hairstyle that often aroused obvious disfavor with the judges. But she didn’t care. She wasn’t good at being anything or anyone other than herself.
Hallie stared at the mirror for the umpteenth time, deciding she looked as good as she was ever going to. She was about to turn away, only to pull up short. When was the last time she’d given herself such a going-over before leaving for the office? She answered her own question: a long time ago.
So what was different about today? A sigh parted her lips when that answer also came to mind. She was seeing Jackson. For a moment the old weakness invaded her body again, and she was powerless to move. Then she gave herself a savage shake.
Jackson was just another client. It was imperative she keep that in the forefront of her mind. But if she couldn’t handle the chemistry between them, if it really became a problem, then she would have no choice but to turn Jackson over to Nathan.
Thirty minutes later, she pulled into the parking garage at the firm and made her way up the elevator and into her office. Pearl wasn’t behind her desk, though she noticed a cup of coffee by her assistant’s phone. Most likely she was in the ladies’ room.
Hallie had intended for Pearl to get Nathan on the line, but since Pearl wasn’t nearby, she decided to make the call herself. She wanted to speak with him before Jackson made his appearance.
Preoccupied with thoughts of Jackson’s case, she hadn’t realized she wasn’t alone. Her first clue was the subtle smell of cologne. She froze mid-stride as her gaze swept the room. Like it had yesterday, her stomach dropped to her toes.
Jackson was standing in almost the same spot by the window. He turned and their eyes met and held. The exchange was smoldering. Another repeat of yesterday. Squaring her shoulders, Hallie moved forward, keeping her shock and dismay under wraps.
“This is getting to be a habit,” she said, dropping her purse and briefcase. “A bad one.”
“Sorry,” he said.
Hallie knew better. He wasn’t sorry in the least. Her anger flared, but she kept her feelings hidden. A better time for teaching Jackson his place would present itself. Until then, she’d maintain her professional cool. To let him know he’d disconcerted her wouldn’t be wise.
However, she couldn’t help but notice that his handsome features appeared more strained than ever. Even his eyes were bloodshot, from too much booze or too little sleep. She couldn’t say, nor did she care.
“You’re looking exceptionally good this morning,” he said in that husky tone that never failed to send her pulse rate skyrocketing.
“Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about you,” she responded with intended bluntness, hoping to diffuse the sexual tension that had notched the temperature up several degrees.
He smiled. “I didn’t sleep last night.”
“Not by choice, I assume,” she said, moving farther into the room.
“Nope. Too much on my mind.”
A silence fell between them while they simply stared at each other.
Jackson’s eye’s darkened. “I really had no intention of crashing in on you again.”
“Then, why did you?”
“I wanted to try and talk you out of meeting with the other attorney.”
“That other attorney’s name happens to be Nathan James, which I’m sure you’re aware of.” She folded her arms cross her chest. When she felt the rapid rate of her heart, she dropped her arms. “And not talking to him isn’t an option.”
Jackson shrugged as his blue eyes bore back into hers. She turned away. “At least I get an A for effort.”
Her gaze whipped back to him. “If you’re trying to be funny, you’re wasting your time. I’m not in the mood.”
For a moment his eyes seemed to linger on her chest. She turned her entire body away from him this time, fearing he might see her distended nipples.
“Hallie?”
Reluctantly, she turned back around, schooling her features to show none of her mixed emotions. “Yes.”
“Never mind,” he muttered.
With determination, she walked to her desk and punched a button on her phone. “Pearl, please ask Mr. James to come to my office.”
“There’s nothing I can say to make you change your mind?”
“No, Jackson, and I can’t see why you’d want to. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”
Suddenly the door opened, and a man walked in. “Good morning,” he said. “Shall we get down to business?”
Eight
Hallie smiled at the dapper attorney. Nathan James was dressed to kill, in his custom-made suit and expensive tie. He was medium height and slender, with sharp features and eyes that seldom missed a thing.
“Thanks for coming, Nathan,” she said, her smile broadening.
“Anything for you, my dear.”
“Save your charm.” Hallie’s lips twitched. “You know it’s lost on me.”
Nathan grabbed his chest in mock despair. “Why must you continue to break my heart?”
Hallie rolled her eyes. “Will you please behave yourself?”
Of all the attorneys in the firm, Nathan was her favorite, the one whom she respected the most. He was an excellent lawyer whose superior intelligence provided him the ability to think on his feet, which was a great asset in the courtroom.
But her liking of him went deeper. Although he wasn’t quite old enough to be her father, he treated her like the daughter he didn’t have. Happily married with three grown boys, he and his wife, Donna, had made her welcome in their home. She considered him her mentor, and was ever conscious that he genuinely liked and respected her, as well.
“I’m Nathan James. You must be Jackson Cole.” Nathan extended his hand.
The sound of the attorney’s well-modulated voice drew Hallie back to the moment at hand, and she watched the interplay between the two men. Nathan’s features had sobered and his narrowed eyes were focused on Jackson, as if sizing him up.
“Right.” Jackson responded without any real warmth, though his gaze didn’t shy away from Nathan’s piercing one.
“Before we get down to business,” Hallie said, “would either of you care for coffee?”
Both men nodded. She pressed the button on her phone and asked Pearl to accommodate them, then they all sat down. The silence had turned suddenly hostile, something she’d feared but had hoped to avoid. She quelled a sigh and was about to speak, when Jackson jumped in.
“I have to tell you right off, Nathan, that I wasn’t in favor of bringing in a second party.”
“That’s your call, of course,” Nathan responded, turning his attention to Hallie, his eyebrows raised as if to ask what she had gotten him into.
“No, it’s not his call.” Hallie’s voice was firm. “It’s my call and Jackson knows it.” She wanted to throttle her ex-fiancé, even though he looked good enough to pounce on. When she realized the path her thoughts had taken, she was surprisingly unrepentant.
Okay, so his good looks and commanding presence were a turn-on. They always had been and always would be. Seeing him again this morning brought that home. He had set off that deep sexual ache in her again, an ache she’d fought so hard to get over.
Yet a tiny part of her was glad to have him back in her life, if only for a short time. There was something about him that appeased her hunger, made her feel like a live woman and not a career robot.
Yet he’d severed her trust as casually as someone discarding a pair of worn-out sneakers.
“So do I stay or do I go?” Nathan demanded into the lengthening silence.
Hallie shot a warning glance at Jackson. “You stay.”
Pearl chose that moment to enter the room, carrying a tray filled with the coffeepot, cups and breakfast muffins. Hallie thanked her and she hurried out.
“Jackson, I’d like for you to repeat everything you told Hallie, from start to finish, followed by what you told the detective.” Without taking his gaze off Jackson, Nathan reached for a cup and filled it with coffee.
“First off, I didn’t kill Roberta Klein.” Jackson’s tone was terse.
Nathan nodded, then took a sip of his beverage. “Good. Since that’s out of the way, please continue.”
Hallie listened while Jackson repeated what had transpired with Detective Gomez. Every so often, she would inject a comment, clarifying what Jackson had said. When he finished, the room was quiet for a moment. In order to keep her eyes off Jackson, she poured a cup of coffee she didn’t want.
“Have you thought of anything else you might’ve overlooked?” Nathan asked.
Jackson shifted his gaze. “No, nothing.”
“What about Gomez?” Nathan asked, facing Hallie. “What’s your impression of him?”
“He’s both smart and smart-alecky.”
“Not surprising. But you can handle him, right?”
Hallie smiled with confidence. “With ease and pleasure.”
Nathan chuckled. “I don’t know why I even bothered to ask.” Then he said to Jackson, “Have you written any of this down?”
Jackson turned swiftly to Hallie, a question in his eyes.
Hallie answered for him. “I didn’t tell him to.”
Nathan worked his mouth. “I am. Get a notepad and write down everything you just said, in addition to your long history with the Klein woman. It’s imperative that you don’t leave anything out.”
“And equally imperative,” Hallie put in, “that you don’t show it to anyone but me or Nathan.”
“That’s right,” Nathan said. “No third party. It’s privileged, but if anyone else sees it, it becomes unprivileged.”
Although Jackson didn’t appear the least bit enthusiastic about the request, he said, “That’s a tall order, but I can handle it. As for anyone else seeing it, I get it.”
Ignoring Jackson’s obvious rebuke, Nathan went on. “So let’s talk about you personally.”
Jackson bristled. “Like, how personal?”
“Real personal,” Nathan said with a smooth smile, though his voice had no give.
Jackson whipped his eyes to Hallie. “Look, is all this necessary?”
“Absolutely. Nathan’s not making any demands that I wouldn’t make.”
“But you know me personally.”
Jackson suddenly gave her the look that melted her bones. She swallowed before saying lamely, “Lots can change in two years, Jackson.”
“Dammit, Hallie, you know better than that.”
“No, I don’t,” she shot back.
Nathan raised his hand, the look on his face an annoyed one that Hallie dreaded. The criminal attorney was losing patience, and she didn’t blame him. Jackson could be the kindest and most considerate person on earth, only to turn cold and withdrawn in a heartbeat if something didn’t suit him. Obviously this interview was not suiting him.
Too bad. Jackson had gotten himself in this mess. Consequently, he didn’t have any choice but to cooperate.
“All right,” Jackson said, his features cast in granite, “take your best shot. Both of you.”
Again ignoring his festering temper, Nathan asked, “How are your finances?”
“Solid.”
“That’s a plus. Are you involved with a woman?”
For a long moment, a poisonous tension fell over the room. No one said a word. Hallie felt her breath catch in anticipation of Jackson’s answer. His only physical response was to narrow his eyes and hold his features and posture in check. Still, Hallie sensed his temper had gone up yet another notch.
“No,” he finally said in a more terse tone, a muscle jerking in his jaw.
Hallie kept her face averted while giving in to the unwanted feeling of relief that filtered through her.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Jackson demanded, his eyes hooded.
“Look,” Nathan said, “I’m not the heavy here, despite what you think. Gomez is going to dig a whole lot deeper than we are. Count on that. So you might as well get used to having your privacy invaded.”
“He’s right,” Hallie said in a soft tone. “Things are going to get worse before they get better.”
Jackson lunged out of his chair, then peered down at Hallie. “How ’bout if I take a lie detector test? Won’t that prove I didn’t do it?”
“Nope,” Nathan said. “It won’t hold up in court.”
“But surely it would count for something.” Jackson’s tone was low and harsh. “At least shake Gomez enough to look at someone else.”
“We don’t know that he doesn’t have other suspects,” Hallie pointed out. “But until I’m convinced you’re no longer his numero uno, I’m going to proceed as if you are.”
Jackson muttered a curse, while Nathan looked at his watch and stood.
“I’m due at another meeting.” He turned his attention to Hallie. “Let me know when and if I can be of more help. But for now, I have every confidence you can handle it.”
Hallie gave him a lame smile. “Thanks, Nathan. We’ll talk later.”
Once he was gone, silence permeated the room. Both Jackson and Hallie seemed reluctant to break it, even though Hallie felt the attraction crackle between them like strong bolts of lightning.
“Hallie.” The gruffness in his voice brought her eyes back to his.
“Don’t, Jackson.”
“Don’t what?”
“You know.” A tremor that she couldn’t control shook her voice.
“Suppose you tell me, anyway.”
She raised her head defiantly, determined to nip this conversation in the bud. “Okay, don’t look at me like that.”
“And how am I looking at you?”
His question didn’t even warrant a response. He damn well knew the answer.
Weak-kneed, Hallie leaned against the desk. This was a dangerous game they were playing, especially if she was going to represent him effectively against a murder charge. Yet the heady feeling his smoldering gaze and husky voice incited in her seemed worth the risk. For the moment.
Then, thankfully, her sanity returned, and she forced strength into her voice. “Stop it, Jackson. Your seduction tactics won’t work.”
He shrugged, then said, “Can’t blame a fellow for trying.”
“You don’t mean that,” she snapped, again disconcerted by his effect on her.
“Oh, but I do,” he said, after a calculated pause. “It never occurred to me that I’d ever lose you, Hallie.”
“Well, you did,” she countered flatly, turning and making her way behind her desk, determined to create distance between them. If she’d known he still had the power to turn her world upside down, she wouldn’t have let him persuade her to help him.
But nothing was carved in stone, she reminded herself, feeling her heart rate recede. “Back off, Jackson. If not…” She let her words trail off, but she knew he got the message.
Although his features tightened, he changed the subject. “So where do we go from here?” He added hurriedly, “Concerning the case.”
Hallie relaxed, feeling on safe ground for the first time since she’d seen him. “The ball’s in Gomez’s court.”
“Do you think he’ll bug me?”
“He’ll try, but whatever you do, don’t take the bait.”
“I don’t want him around me.”
“I can’t promise you anything. However, if he becomes too much of a nuisance, there are ways of dealing with him.”
“I wish you could make this all go away, Hallie.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t.” Her tone was low and sober.
“I probably shouldn’t have involved you.”
“No, you probably shouldn’t have, but you did. And I probably should’ve sent you out the door, but I didn’t.”
He smiled. “I owe you, big time.”
She returned his smile, and it felt good. “Believe me, you’ll pay.”
“Through the pocketbook, right?”
“Right.”
“If it keeps me out of court, it’ll be worth it.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, then he asked, “How about dinner tonight?” He paused. “For old time’s sake.”
She stiffened, and he raised his hands in an innocent gesture. “I promise, no hanky-panky. I just don’t want to be alone.”
“You’re never alone. You’re surrounded by people at Elan.”
“It’s not the same—” He cleared his throat. “But if you’d feel more comfortable, we could dine at the club.”
“Jackson—”
“Please.”
She had hesitated, trying to decide what to do, when her cell phone rang. Without looking at him, she reached for it. Darcy’s name was registered in the caller ID box, and she answered immediately.
“I’m glad to hear from you.”
Silence.
“Darcy, are you there?” The dial tone buzzed in her ear. Frowning she pushed the off button and met Jackson’s inquisitive eyes.
“What was that all about?”
“I wish I knew.”
“You seem upset. Is Darcy all right?”
“I don’t know that, either. Nothing there has changed in two years.” Hallie tried to keep the fear and frustration out of her voice, but she knew she’d failed.
“All the more reason to have dinner with me.”
Nine
Jackson had seized the opportunity and persuaded her to join him. Still, she’d insisted on meeting for an early dinner after work. During the afternoon, she’d tried to reach her sister but to no avail, which had convinced her that maybe Jackson’s company wouldn’t be a bad thing provided she kept things on an impersonal level.
“So did you ever talk to your sister?” he asked after they were seated.
Hallie sighed. “No, unfortunately I didn’t.”
“I had hoped she’d stopped giving you so much grief.”
“Surely you weren’t thinking she’d grown up.”
Jackson gave her a crooked smile. “Yeah, that’s sort of what I had in mind.”
“No such miracle,” Hallie responded, “but I haven’t given up on her. Yet it’s an uphill battle, I’ll admit.”
Before Jackson could respond, a young waiter appeared at his side. “What is it, Jesse?”
Hallie picked up on the irritation in Jackson’s voice, and apparently so did Jesse, for he flushed, then shifted his feet uncomfortably.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Cole, but you have a phone call.”
Jackson frowned. “Get a name. I’ll call ’em back.”
Jesse’s face duplicated Jackson’s frown. “He said it was urgent, but I’ll do whatever you want.”
“It’s okay,” Hallie said, her eyes meeting his. “Go ahead and take the call. I’ll be fine.”
“Jesse, please bring Ms. Hunter another glass of wine.”
Hallie shook her head and smiled. “Thanks, but I’ll pass for the moment.”
“You sure?” Jackson’s eyebrows were raised.
“I’m sure.”
The waiter nodded, then strode off hurriedly as if he couldn’t wait to put distance between him and Jackson.
“Dammit, I told him not to interrupt me.”
“Hey, lighten up,” Hallie said in a smooth tone. “I’m a big girl. I can be left alone.”
Jackson stood, then stared down at her. The candlelight from the table made his eyes appear to glisten. Hallie didn’t want to meet his probing gaze, but the pull was too strong. They stared at each other for what seemed the longest time, electricity crackling.
To relieve the moment, she said in a halting voice, “Go on.”
“I won’t be long,” he said huskily.
The second he strode off, her entire body went limp. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until she was alone. She shouldn’t have agreed to have dinner with him. But after the weird call from Darcy, she’d been feeling a tad vulnerable.
As she waited for Jackson to return, her eyes wandered around the club. Little had changed in the two years since she’d been there. Of all the clubs on Beale Street, she thought this one was the classiest and most elegant. That had been her opinion before she’d ever met Jackson.
She likened Elan to the old supper clubs that used to be so popular. Couples could drink, eat and dance, all under one roof. The one noticeable difference was that the clientele dressed down instead of up—dressy casual was the buzzword. Still, the tables, with their white linen cloths, vases of fresh flowers, and candles, were a cut above the average. Patrons felt as though they had really stepped out for the evening.
After she and Jackson had gone their separate ways, she had missed the evenings they had spent here. They had visited Elan often, not out of necessity, but rather out of preference. She loved to dance and so did Jackson. And they had been good together on the dance floor as well as in bed.
Her face flamed suddenly at her unbidden thoughts. Still, an intense longing for those days shook her to the core. Seeing Jackson again, being at the club, brought back the good memories, making her long for what she had once had.
Even though she thought about him often, she had been convinced she was over him, that his betrayal had destroyed her feelings for him. She could not have been more wrong. The idea that she might not ever get over him chilled her. Perhaps when and if they married others the fires of passion would burn themselves out.
What terrified her the most was the fact that hadn’t yet happened.
As he wound his way back toward her, she watched him smile at the patrons who were drinking and dining, and it hit her again how much she still wanted him. Even though his smile hadn’t connected with his eyes, it didn’t matter. His handsome self-assurance and good looks stole her next breath.
“Are you okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged, though a smile flirted with his lips. “For starters, you’re a beautiful woman sitting alone. I expected every single man at the bar to hit on you.”
“It didn’t happen.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to kick ass this early in the evening.”
In spite of herself, Hallie laughed.
His eyes darkened on her, making him more dangerously attractive than ever.
“What?” she asked in a breathless tone.
“Your dimple. It still does crazy things when you laugh.”
She felt herself grow warm all over. Suddenly they were stepping into forbidden territory. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be in his arms on the dance floor.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, swiftly changing the subject.
“What do you mean?”
“The call,” she pressed. “Remember the important message?”
For a second, his features became guarded, as if a curtain had fallen over them, shutting her out. Nonetheless, she knew that whoever the caller had been had upset him. Then he shrugged in a nonchalant fashion.
“It was nothing I can’t handle.”
“Fine.”
An awkward silence fell between them as he sat back down and reached for his drink. At moments like this, she wondered what had possessed her to take his case, to get involved with him again in any way.
“It was Roberta’s mother.” A sigh followed his words.
Hallie stared at him, wide-eyed, surprised both by his confiding in her and by who the caller was.
“She told me I wasn’t welcome at the funeral.”
“I’m sorry, Jackson,” she said, for lack of anything better to say.
“Me, too, for more reasons than one. Ruby has always been a sort of surrogate mother, and it sickens me that she thinks I’m capable of murdering anyone, most of all her daughter.”
“So she actually thinks you’re guilty?”
“Oh yeah,” he responded bitterly. “Even though she’s an old lady, she hasn’t lost her mind or her sharp tongue.”
“Was she even interested in hearing your side?”
“Nope.”
“Again, I’m sorry. I know how much Roberta and her family meant to you.”
“They did—she did, only not in the way you think.”
Hallie averted her gaze. “Let’s not go there, okay?”
“Whatever you say.” His tone was low and brusque.
Another round of silence. He broke it by asking, “How ’bout a dance for old time’s sake?” His voice sounded like it had been rubbed with sandpaper.
She whipped her head back around. His eyes collided with hers. She knew exactly what he was thinking, about the many times they had danced cheek-to-cheek, belly to belly, lips to lips, alone, after hours, until their passion was screaming for release.
Then they would leave, only just making it to the car before they lost control. Breathing heavy and with lips meshed, he’d jerk her panties down, open his fly and sit her down on his lap, ramming his hardness into her softness.
When the frenzied, almost desperate mating was over, they would collapse against each other, gasping.
For a second, she almost bought into his attempt to seduce her; her heart beating out of sync, she became conscious of the wetness between her legs. But then she came to her senses and gave her head a violent shake.
“In your dreams.”
“Every night,” he whispered.
She snapped alert. “Dammit, Jackson, do you want me to get up and walk out?”
He straightened. “Don’t be silly.”
“Then, behave yourself,” she responded with tartness.
“How can you just turn your emotions off like that, Hallie?”
“It’s easy.” Her tone was cold. “I just remember the conversation with Roberta.”
His face drained of color and his curse stung the air.
“Look, maybe we should forget having dinner.”
“Not on your life. We’re going to eat. I’ve ordered us both the best steaks in the house.” Jackson’s gaze softened and he smiled. “Meanwhile, I promise to behave.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Yeah, I guess you have. So do I get another chance?”
“All right. But the third time and you’re out.”
“Whoa,” Jackson said with a half smile. “I’m not even going to touch that one.”
The band, which had taken the place of the piano and singer, began to play.
“What do you think?”
“About what?” Hallie asked.
“The band.”
“They’re good, actually.”
“This is a trial run for them.” Jackson paused, seeming to size them up. “We lost our other band and Terrance has been on the hunt.”
“Speaking of Terrance, how’s he doing? Is he still at your beck and call?”
“You never liked him, did you.”
Hallie felt warmth surge into her face, but she answered honestly. “Not really.”
Jackson chuckled.
“You asked.”
“I did and you answered. But why is that? I never understood what you had against him.”
“I never knew, either. There’s just something about him that always bothered me.”
“Well, he liked you. And still does.”
Hallie shrugged. “Maybe I just didn’t get to know him well enough.”
“Speaking of Terrance, I wonder where he is. He should be circulating.”
“It’s early yet, isn’t it?”
“Not that early.” Jackson’s features relaxed. “Ah, there he is. I guess I just didn’t see him.”
“Well, you do seem to have a full house.”
“We try to please.”
They both watched as Terrance made his way toward them. His hand was outstretched when he reached the table.
“It’s great to see you again, Hallie.”
Hallie gave him her hand and smiled. “Same here.”
Suddenly she was seeing Terrance through new eyes. Maybe she’d been jealous of Jackson and Terrance’s relationship. At the time of their engagement, she hadn’t been nearly as sure of herself. As a result, perhaps she hadn’t given Terrance a fair shot. She would this time, though, as he could be a valuable asset in helping to clear Jackson’s name. And now she had nothing personal invested. Jackson was just another client.
“So how have you been?”
“Great.” She smiled brightly.
“You look great, too.”
“Why, thanks.”
He paused, then pinned her with his eyes. “Too bad I have to see you again under such unpleasant circumstances.”
“I know, but it’ll be over soon.”
“Man, that’d be great.”
“Don’t sound so shocked, Terrance,” Jackson injected. “Why do you think I hired her?”
“I’m not shocked,” Terrance corrected hurriedly. “I have every confidence in Hallie, too.” He paused again, stepping aside as their food arrived. “I’ll get lost now and let you enjoy your dinner. If there’s anything I can do, Hallie, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“Trust me, I won’t. And thanks.”
Once their beautifully presented food was in front of them, they fell silent again. The smell engaged Hallie’s senses, making her realize how hungry she was. In fact, she’d barely eaten anything all day.
“Dig in,” Jackson said. “How ’bout some more wine?”
When Jesse moved to refill her glass, Hallie covered it with her palm. “No, thanks, I’ve had enough. I have to be sharp in the morning.”
Once they were alone, they both began to eat. Despite the sexual tension that hummed between them, she was able to enjoy her meal. Jackson had always been easy to be with. She was the high-strung one, the one on high alert. He’d always had the ability to calm her nerves, make her feel cherished.
“What are you thinking about?” Jackson asked between bites.
“Nothing.”
“Liar,” he said softly.
Color surged into her face, but she ignored his innuendo. When she didn’t respond, he took another bite of steak.
Once he’d washed it down with wine, he asked in a casual tone, “How come you never married?”
“How come you didn’t?” she fired back, though she felt the flush on her cheeks deepen.
“Are you sure you want me to answer that?”
“No,” she said quickly. “No, I don’t.”
He chuckled, only to frown as someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Hallie had noticed the man when he came in the door. Although he appeared to know his way around the club, he didn’t look like he belonged there. He seemed ill at ease and unsure of himself. And he certainly was not dressed for the occasion.
She’d been shocked when he targeted Jackson and made a beeline for their table. Now, as she watched Jackson turn around and gasp, her stomach knotted.
“What—” Jackson never got the rest of his sentence out of his mouth.
“Stand up, you son of a bitch.” The man was in his face, and spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth. “Look me in the eye when you tell me why you killed my sister.”
That was when Hallie saw the bulge in his pocket. Her hand flew to her heart. A gun.
Ten
Just as he was about to lunge out of his chair and face Roberta’s brother, Edgar Nesbitt, Hallie cried out, “Jackson, he’s got a gun!”
Jackson froze for a second, conscious of the danger to Hallie and the patrons. Still, he looked his accuser in the eye and said in a calm but deadly tone, “Take it easy, Edgar. I didn’t hurt your sister.”
“You’re a lying bastard,” Edgar muttered, so close to his face that Jackson smelled the soured alcohol on his breath.
“I’m not lying,” Jackson said again in the same calm but deadly tone.
Without taking his eyes off Jackson, Edgar spat to Hallie, “Lady, I don’t have no gun. If I did, he’d already be dead.”
“Back off, Nesbitt—” the calm had slipped several degrees after Edgar addressed Hallie “—unless you want to be hauled out of here in handcuffs. Or better yet, a body bag.”
Nesbitt poked Jackson in the chest, his features twisted. “Do you think I care what you do to me?”
Jackson grabbed his hand so hard, he heard Nesbitt’s knuckles crack.
Pain or not, it didn’t stop his mouth. “My sister’s dead and it’s all your fault.”
Before Jackson could respond, Donnie Petty, Elan’s head of security, tapped Nesbitt on the shoulder. “Your moment in the sun’s over, buddy. You’re coming with me.”
Within seconds, the volatile situation had been de-fused. What Hallie had mistaken for a weapon had been a pipe. Still, one never knew.
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