Beg for Mercy (49 page)

Something in his voice made her uneasy.

“So I won’t be here when you get back.”

“Wait, what?” Megan shook her head to clear it. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to move up to Dad’s cabin.”

“Sean, that thing is falling down.”

“It will be a good project for me to rebuild it. I’ll have room to build a workshop and everything.”

“Look, if this is about me and Cole—”

“It has nothing to do with that. Jesus! I brought a man who tried to kill you into our lives!” He paused and took a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. “After all that, I think that gives you a free pass to date whoever you want to.”

“Was that supposed to be funny?” She leveled a hard look at him. “We talked about this. I thought the plan was for you to look for a place nearby and find work until your settlement comes through. I just set up two more job interviews for you.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful—I’m not. I’m more grateful than I can say for what you and Cole did to get me out, but me living here… it’s not working. I need some time alone to figure some stuff out.” He chuckled softly to himself. “And, yeah, I get the irony of a guy who just spent two years in solitary needing time alone.”

Megan laughed too. “I hate the thought of not seeing you every day,” she said, “but I get it.” After what he’d been through, Sean had to figure out how he fit back into the world. Contrary to her hopes, Sean couldn’t just step back into his life where he’d left it.

“It’s not a bad drive, and you won’t have to talk to me through Plexiglas.”

“Smart-ass,” she laughed, even as her eyes stung with tears. “I’ll really miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you.”

He crossed to her and gathered her into a fierce bear hug. Megan buried her face against his chest, wishing she could wave a magic wand and make everything in his life be okay. She had been able to get Sean out of prison, but now that he was out, he had to find his own path.

And she had to follow hers.

Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs, followed by a knock on the door. “That’s my ride,” Megan said, stepping out of Sean’s embrace.

Joy seared through her as she opened the door to Cole’s wide smile. But the smile and the wicked glint in his eyes morphed into concern when he saw Megan’s face. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

, Sean couight="0em" width="27">
Any doubts Megan might have had about Cole’s devotion to her would have been obliterated by the way he cradled her cheek, the almost frantic look in his eyes at her distress.

“It’s fine,” Megan said. “Sean and I were just having a talk.”

He shot a look at Sean over her shoulder. “Do we need to cancel?” Cole couldn’t quite mask the resignation in his tone. He’d been patient these last two months, understanding Megan’s need to take it slow and ease Sean into the idea that she and Cole were in it for the long haul. But it was clear the lack of time—and especially Megan’s firm policy of no overnighters—was beginning to wear on him.

As they were on her. She couldn’t stop her smile when Sean snapped, “God, will you two stop worrying about me? Jesus, man, get her out of here and show her a good time already.” He gave them a wave and retreated to the bathroom.

Cole pulled her into his arms as soon as the door clicked shut. “Hey,” he whispered, covering her lips in a kiss that sent sparks sizzling across her skin.

“Hey, yourself.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt her whole body sigh.

“So is everything okay? Why do you look sad?” His dark eyes were full of love and concern.

“Sean’s moving away, up to our dad’s old cabin in the mountains. I understand why he needs to get away, but… I wish he’d stay close.”

Cole stiffened and his hand froze on her back. “Is he moving because of us?”

Megan shook her head. “He says it’s not, and I believe him.” She raised her hand to stroke Cole’s cheek. “He wants this for me. He knows we love each other, and he wants me to be happy.”

“Would you still be here if he’d said different?” He let out a low curse as soon as the words left his mouth. “Forget I asked that.”

Megan’s heart swelled a little. It seemed impossible that Cole, who came off as so cool, could feel an iota of insecurity about her feelings. “Sean’s my brother. I love him, and I want him to be happy, but you’re the one I’m supposed to be with. You’re the one I want to have a life with.” It was time to let the past go and step into her future. With Cole.

Cole kissed her, slow and deep. “You know, even if you didn’t feel that way, I love you so much I’d probably spend the rest of my life sniffing around, begging for whatever scraps of affection you’d be willing to toss me.”

A grin pulled at her lips. It was still so amazing, unbelievable, that he was here, with her, and they were really
getting a second chance. “Lucky you, you get the whole thing.”

He kissed her again, hard, and when he lifted his head, his eyes were suspiciously shiny. “The luckiest man on the planet, and don’t you think for a second that I don’t know it.”

Available in November 2011.

Y
ou ready to go?”

Krista Slater looked up and nodded at King County Prosecuting Attorney Mark Benson, who stood in the doorway of her office, briefcase in hand and an overstuffed accordion folder under his arm. She gathered the notes she’d made on the witness statements she’d taken in the last month, trying to summon up that hungry feeling that used to overtake her every time she prepared for court.

But that last court date with Sean Flynn had extinguished the fire in her belly. When you mistakenly put a man on death row, nothing, not even the sight of him walking out of the courtroom as a free man, could ever make up for the years of his life that had been stolen.

It didn’t matter that the evidence had been compelling. It didn’t matter that Nate Brewster had done a masterful job of framing Sean and taken them all for a ride. Nothing could erase the fact that Krista had failed. Miserably. And Sean Flynn had suffered hugely for it, as had the dozens of other women tortured and killed by Brewster, aka the Seattle Slasher.

That knowledge, not to mention the hollow look in
Sean Flynn’s eyes even as he was granted his freedom, had taken the killer instinct that she’d built her reputation on and replaced it with guilt and, worse, doubt. Doubt in her own abilities, doubt in the system.

Come on, Slater, eye of the tiger,
she told herself as she shoved her files into her briefcase. She needed to be on her A-game today. No room for self-doubt or mistakes, not when they were facing off against a slick fish like Roman Karev and his team of five-hundred-dollar-an-hour attorneys. Karev, a restaurant owner with known ties to the Russian mob, was accused of murdering a local businessman and his wife.

Today was the pretrial hearing, and while she was damn sure their case was rock solid, she knew any mistake, any slipup, could and would be used to get crucial pieces of evidence thrown out. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by anything, especially not—

The phone on Krista’s desk buzzed, and she pushed the button on the intercom. “What is it, Lisa?”

Her paralegal’s voice sounded on the speakerphone. “Ms. Slater, I have a phone call for you. He won’t say who he is, only that he was told to call you.”

As casually as she could, Krista punched Lisa off speakerphone and picked up the handset. She shot Mark an apologetic look, praying her elevated pulse rate and the twist of anticipation in her belly didn’t show in her face. “I have to take this.”

Benson looked pointedly at his watch. “We need to be there in te minutes, and I need to go over some last-minute details.”

“Two minutes, I promise.” Krista ignored Benson’s glare. “Put him through.” She glanced up, stifling a gri
mace when it became clear Benson had no intention of leaving.

Krista swiveled her chair, turning her back to Benson, a thousand questions racing through her mind in the seconds it took for Lisa to put the call through.

“Is this Krista Slater?” asked a hoarse male voice.

“That’s me,” she said. “Who’s this?”

“This is Jimmy, Jimmy Caparulo.”

“I’m so glad to hear from you. I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

“Uh, yeah,” the man replied, his confusion at Krista’s borderline flirtatious tone evident.

Her heart thudded against her ribs. Jimmy Caparulo, the man Brewster had tried to frame as the Slasher before he’d been caught and killed. “I’m really glad you called,” Krista said again. “My friend mentioned you might be in touch.”

The “friend” was private investigator Stew Kowalski, who Krista knew through his work on several cases with the prosecuting attorney’s office. But this time Stew wasn’t working in any official capacity, so she was careful not to mention him by name in front of Benson.

Krista had hired Stew a couple of months ago to look deeper into the Brewster case. Even though there was no doubt Brewster was guilty of killing many women, including Evangeline Gordon, some things about him just weren’t adding up. Too many gaps of information, too many things screaming at her that what happened to those women didn’t begin and end with Brewster.

But everyone, from the FBI agent in charge of Brewster’s case to Krista’s own boss, seemed content to let it go. The Slasher had been caught; they had incontrovertible
proof in the form of videos that he’d killed more than six victims—including Stephanie York, who he strangled in a hotel room, and Evangeline Gordon, Sean Flynn’s alleged victim.

Sean Flynn had been exonerated, freed, and generously compensated, and now everyone seemed content to put the entire embarrassing episode behind them.

Except for Krista, who couldn’t let it go. When it became clear there was no way to keep the investigation active, she hired Stew on her own dime to find out the real story behind Brewster and the prostitution ring he’d run out of one of Seattle’s most exclusive nightclubs.

“I told Stew I would talk to only you. I know the way you helped Sean. You were one I could trust,” Jimmy said, his words coming out in a rush.

“I wish you’d called sooner.” Krista injected a pouty note in her voice and snuck a glance at Benson. His expression was one of disbelief.

“I knew they would hurt my aunt if I said anything,” Jimmy continued, unable to stop himself now that the words had started. “But now Nate’s dea and she’s gone too. I can’t keep it in anymore. I should have said something sooner. I should have helped Sean—”

Krista cut him off before he got rolling. She couldn’t completely focus with Benson glaring daggers like that, and she didn’t want to miss a word. “I really want to talk to you more, but this isn’t the best time. Can I call you later, or better yet, why don’t we go out?”

“Go out? Yeah, this will be better in person. Where do you live?”

“Wow, you don’t waste any time!” she said with a little
laugh. “How about we at least meet for a drink before you invite yourself over.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Benson whispered harshly. “We have to leave, now!”

Krista held up a finger and grabbed a pen as Jimmy rattled off a coffee place near his mother’s house. “Tonight at eight. It’s a date,” she said before she hung up.

She gathered her things, avoiding Benson’s eyes as she braced herself for the ass-chewing that would begin in five, four, three, two…

“What the hell are you thinking?” Benson said, his footsteps echoing off the hard floors of the corridor that connected their office wing to the courthouse. “Ten minutes before we face off against Karev is not the time for a personal call.”

Krista bit back a smart-ass response. As relieved as she was that Benson had bought her performance, it galled her that he really thought, after working with her for over seven years, that she was that much of an idiot. Still, he’d be furious if he knew she was investigating Brewster after he’d told her to drop it. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I made a commitment to myself to give a little more balance to my personal life, and my friend has been trying to connect me with this guy for months now, and I’ve been really excited to meet with him.”

At least that part was true. She’d always suspected Jimmy Caparulo knew more about Brewster than he’d let on, but even when Brewster had tried to set Jimmy up as the Slasher, Jimmy wouldn’t say a word other than they’d become close friends in the army but had lost touch over the years. Nothing new, nothing Jimmy’s aunt, who Jimmy
had cared for during the last years of her life, couldn’t tell them.

But now…

I knew they would kill my aunt if I said anything.

Her heart skipped a beat.
They.
So she was right. Nate Brewster hadn’t been working alone.

It looked like Jimmy had something to say after all. It took all of her restraint not to rub it in Benson’s face, but she needed to play her cards close to the vest until she had something concrete to go on.