The news caught the other members of the D.A.’s office by surprise. Voices rose as speculations were traded. Woods looked at Janelle skeptically. “And you know this how?”
Sawyer interrupted, taking the ball. “There were no fingerprints on the nickel bags we found in Junior’s apartment. Except for one partial thumbprint.” He turned to look at Mariel. “All government workers are fingerprinted. The print was yours.”
It still didn’t make any sense to her. “But why?” Janelle asked. “Why would you do something like that? What did he offer you?”
Sawyer didn’t bother letting the woman make up excuses. He answered Janelle himself. “Wentworth’s known Mariel since she was a baby,” he told her. “She’s his cousin’s kid, from his old neighborhood. He took a special interest in her, sent her to law school and made her his eyes and ears in the D.A.’s office. Damn clever if you ask me.” He could admire a man’s technique and still loathe the man. “Lucky for us he got so impatient.”
“You have no proof!” Mariel spat haughtily. Before their eyes, she transformed from a meek, agreeable assistant to a brazen young woman accustomed to getting her way. Accustomed to being privy to the machinations at the top. In his own fashion, Wentworth had doted on her. “This is all just desperate conjecture.”
“If you want desperate,” Janelle countered, “look into a mirror. And we have plenty of proof.” She smiled and pointed to the cell phone. “In case you’ve forgotten how it works, we can subpoena phone records. Go back for years,” she added, twisting the knife.
Mariel viciously cursed Janelle’s parentage, then spit on her.
“Get her out of my sight,” Woods ordered. “Someone call the jail and get a judge. I want the Wayne kid out before nightfall.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, then ran it through his chestnut hair. “This is going to be embarrassing enough to deal with as it is.” Woods shook his head, anticipating the future. “They’ll probably slap the city with a lawsuit for wrongful arrest,” he moaned.
Sawyer looked at Janelle. She thought she saw something akin to confidence in his eyes as he regarded her. “I think Cavanaugh can handle it so that doesn’t happen.”
Woods brightened ever so slightly. A light had appeared in the dark. “That’s right, you have Wayne’s ear, don’t you?”
“More like he has—had—mine, sir,” she corrected, thinking of the initial phone call. Woods’s brow furrowed deeply. “But I’ll see what I can do.”
Woods nodded. “You do that, Janelle,” the A.D.A. instructed, his voice both firm and weary at the same time. “You do that.”
Two policemen approached, responding to a call placed by Woods’s secretary. Mariel shrank back, but any escape was severely blocked. She looked at Woods, a frantic light in her eyes.
“You can’t take me to jail,” she cried, all her arrogance and bravado drained out of her.
Janelle smiled. “Wanna watch us?”
As the policeman snapped handcuffs on her, one of them beginning to recite the familiar words every suspect heard when taken into custody, Mariel jerked back. She almost flung herself in front of Sawyer. “I want immunity,” she begged. “I want my family to be placed in protective custody.”
“In exchange for?” Janelle asked before Woods could find his tongue.
Mariel took a deep breath. This time, Janelle believed that the nervous look on the woman’s face was genuine. She was about to take a fateful step. Once she did, there would be no turning back. No return to the way things were before.
“A lot of inside information.”
Sawyer regarded the woman for a long moment before his eyes shifted over toward Woods. “I think you might have found yourself a legitimate informant this time,” he told the A.D.A.
Janelle couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Woods look so pleased.
Chapter 16
W
hat remained of the afternoon moved at the clip of a commercial freight train making up for lost time. There was a tonnage of papers to file, a judge to coerce and a mountain to move. The wheels of justice turned slowly, but not this time.
Getting someone at the D.A.’s to cover for her in court, Janelle had spent the better part of the afternoon taking Mariel’s statement. They wanted it fresh, before anyone could get to Mariel or she changed her mind. Janelle was far from finished when Woods had her pulled and replaced by one of the other assistants. She was stunned until she heard the reason why.
The moment the A.D.A received the green light on the paperwork, Woods chose Janelle to inform Anthony Wayne that he was free to go.
She knew Woods saw it as a reward for her part in finding the leak and preventing the D.A.’s office from suffering any further embarrassment. Operating under the assumption that everyone had his sense of values, Woods felt that she would be thrilled at being the bearer of good news as well as possibly snagging the spotlight.
But the spotlight had never meant very much to her. In addition, as she got into her car and drove the short distance to the local holding cell where Tony Wayne had been for the last two months, Janelle wasn’t sure she could face the crime lieutenant’s son now that she was aware of her connection to him.
Still, she couldn’t exactly refuse without having a damn good reason.
Her conception had been an accident, she reminded herself. One that Marco Wayne would have easily brushed aside if that had been her mother’s choice. He was only her father in the most technical sense. She might share DNA with him and his offspring, but that didn’t make Tony her brother. Time, love and life did that.
She had three brothers. She wasn’t looking for more. Now if only her stomach could understand that.
Arriving at the police department, a building she had walked into so many times she couldn’t possibly begin to count, she felt nervous for the first time in her life. She doubted that Marco had told Tony about his affair with her mother. That put her one up on the younger Wayne.
As it should be.
Taking in several deep breaths, she put her hand out in front of her. It was steady.
Okay, here we go.
She hurried into the building and hoped she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew.
But she did.
Sawyer, who had left her shortly after coming to her rescue, seemed to materialize out of nowhere and fell into step with her as she went to the room reserved for defense attorneys and their clients.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. Damn, just what she needed, to have her pulse rate go up another few notches. She’d be lucky if she made it through today intact.
“In case you hadn’t noticed,” he said, holding the door open for her, “this is the police department building.”
She made a right turn down the corridor that led to the very back of the building and the holding cells. “I
know
what it is,” she retorted, “but what are you doing
here?
” She waved her hand around at the specific area.
The soft hint of a smile shot right through her. “Didn’t think I’d let you go in here alone, did you?”
Did he know? she wondered. Did he suspect how nervous she was about this meeting? How had he gotten into her head so easily?
“He’s not dangerous,” she pointed out.
“Didn’t say he was,” Sawyer said, taking hold of her arm.
Reflexes and the independent streak that she had nurtured ever since she was old enough to dress herself would have had her pulling her arm away. But reflexes were trumped by inherent instincts. Janelle left her arm where it was, allowing Sawyer to guide her into the small conference room.
Along with his lawyer, Anthony Wayne was brought in less than two minutes later. Janelle sat up even straighter in her chair. The younger man looked nothing like his father. Thin-boned and slight, she could only assume that the man she had seen only once before, at his arraignment, took after his mother.
As she took after hers, she thought.
Edward Parnell, who took the chair beside Tony, was as sharp as they came. He was also, like the custom-made suits he wore, the best that money could buy.
“You have news for us?” Parnell directed his inquiry to Janelle, his body language indicating that he was oblivious to the police detective with her.
Rather than address the attorney, Janelle looked at her half brother, wondering if anyone was ever going to tell him of their connection. She sincerely hoped not. Life was complicated enough as it was without her having to deal with that.
She folded her hands before her.
He’s a kid and he’s scared.
Suddenly, she was glad she was the one bringing him this news. “New evidence has recently come to the attention of the district attorney’s office. You were framed, Mr. Wayne, and now you’re free to go.”
He stared at her, as if afraid to believe what he was hearing. His voice was almost reedy and nearly broke as he asked, “Just like that?”
She nodded. “Assistant D.A. Woods rushed through the paperwork personally. Judge Winterset signed off on it.” She smiled at Tony, feeling compassionate stirrings despite everything she’d told herself just prior to walking into the room. “Everything’s in order. As of three o’clock this afternoon, all charges against you were dropped.” She added the necessary coda. “You have the sincerest apologies of the city of Aurora.”
“Not good enough,” Parnell said.
She’d expected nothing less from the attorney. Neither did Woods. She knew the man was preparing for battle.
“You’ll have to take that up with the D.A.’s office,” she told him as she rose from the table. She was aware of Sawyer rising as well. The police detective had surprised her with his silence. Janelle hooked her purse straps on her shoulder and pushed her chair in. “I’m just the messenger.”
Very obviously shaky, Tony Wayne rose to his feet as well. “Miss—”
“Cavanaugh,” she told him, the coolness leaving her voice. “Janelle Cavanaugh.”
“Miss Cavanaugh,” Tony repeated, then hesitated before he asked, “do I know you?”
She wondered about that old saying,
Blood will out,
and if it actually meant anything. “We met at your arraignment.”
But Tony shook his head. “Besides that.”
Yes, I’m your sister. Your half sister, but there’s no way for you to know that.
So she smiled and shook her head as well. “No.”
He looked reluctant to accept that as his final answer. “Funny, I had this feeling…”
Her smile was compassionate as it widened. Janelle crossed back for a moment and made physical contact, squeezing his hand. “That’s probably just the heady smell of freedom getting to you. Don’t do anything to lose it,” she counseled. With that, she turned away and headed toward the outer door.
“We’ll be in touch,” Parnell called after her as she and Sawyer left the room.
“I’m sure you will be, Mr. Parnell,” she said under her breath.
It wasn’t until she and Sawyer were outside the building and Janelle had taken in a deep breath that she finally looked at the man who had been at her side the whole time, as silent as a grave. Despite that, she had to admit that she had been glad that she hadn’t been alone in that room.
“Well, you certainly didn’t say a word the whole time.” He was never very chatty, but he’d always said
something.
“No need to. You were doing just fine on your own.” A corner of his mouth lifted a fraction. “I was just the shadow on the wall.”
Janelle came to a stop by her car and turned around. “You would
never
be just a shadow on the wall,” she contradicted. “You’re much too dynamic for that.”
Amusement highlighted his features, softening them. “Is that a compliment?”
She hadn’t intended to make a big deal out of it, just an observation. And, okay, a compliment she grudgingly admitted. “What, it’s been so long since you heard one you don’t know a compliment when you get one?” She took a breath, then said, “Yes, that was a compliment.”
The amusement didn’t dissipate as he continued to regard her closer than she felt comfortable. He seemed to be in her space without actually physically occupying it. “I just didn’t think you were wired that way.”
“What way?”
He leaned a hip against her car. “To give a man his due.”
She did too give a man his due. She just didn’t believe in going overboard. The male ego, in her opinion, tended to overinflate at times. “There are nine men in my family. I choose my moments.” She glanced at her watch. “Technically, I’m off the clock.”
He nodded. It was after five. “I was never on. Vacation,” he reminded her.
Suddenly, with the burden of the Wayne problem behind her, she needed to know things. “So, what now?”
“Dinner?” Sawyer suggested. His voice was casual. The complete antithesis of how he felt inside. “There’s this little steak house at the edge of town that serves the best steaks at a decent price—”
She shook her head. “No, I mean ‘what now?’” Where did that leave them? The personal
them
that had emerged out of the professional
them.
“I don’t need anyone watching my back anymore. The Wayne case is over.”
He crossed his arms before him and began to speak, then stopped, waiting for an approaching policeman to pass them before continuing. “Are we having ‘the talk,’ Cavanaugh?”
She stiffened immediately, regretting what she’d just said. “The talk?”
His expression gave nothing away and added to her sense of discomfort. She’d crawled out on a limb and found herself alone out there.
“Yeah,” he said, “the one where the woman wants to know where the relationship is going.”
More than anything else, Janelle hated stereotyping. Hated being seen in such narrow parameters. “Never mind,” she told him. All she wanted to do now was just go home. Alone. “I never said anything. The steak house sounds pretty good, but—”
“Because if we are—having the talk,” he clarified when she glared at him, “then I’d have to say that it’s going to go wherever you want it to go.”
That stopped her in her tracks mentally if not physically. She hadn’t expected him to say that and was afraid that she was still misunderstanding him.
“What?”
“You been listening to loud music and blowing out your eardrums?” His sober expression hid the uncertainty he was experiencing. “I said—”
“I heard what you said,” she interrupted, irritated. What did he want from her? Was he setting her up? Getting her to make an admission so that he could have the last laugh at her expense? Damn it, ever since she’d found out about her roots, she’d lost her confidence in her ability to make the right call. To
be
right. “I just don’t understand what you mean by it.”
He studied her for a moment before asking, “What part confused you?”
Okay, he wanted to be a smart-ass, she’d treat him like one. “The part where you said the relationship was going to go wherever I wanted it to go. First of all, I wasn’t aware that we even
had
a relationship—”
“You always cure your hiccups by making love with whoever you’re with?”
She ignored the interruption and kept going. “And second, you’re not going to place the burden of this on me and then just pretend to be the innocent bystander here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Burden?”
“Okay,” she bit off grudgingly, “poor choice of word. You like
responsibility
better?”
The wind ruffled the stray strands that had worked their way loose from the confining pins she’d fastened in her hair. He was tempted to pull them out and then move his fingers through her hair.
“I’d like it better if you took that chip off your shoulder,” he told her.
Janelle closed her mouth, her retort dying with the action. He was right. She was acting as if she had a chip on her shoulder. But that was the fear talking. The fear that she was in the presence of something rare and that she would somehow ruin it, scare it away, before she ever had a chance to cultivate it.
“Okay,” she agreed quietly, conceding his point.
“And,” he continued in the same tone, “took the clothes off your body.”
A giddiness worked its way to the surface as her mood instantly lightened. Janelle almost laughed out loud. “Here?”
Very slowly, he glided his fingertips along her face, pushing one small strand of hair out of her eyes. “Preferably your place or my place, but here if you really feel you can’t wait to jump my bones.”
The breath she drew felt short. But she managed to look nonchalant. Just barely. “I think I can contain myself.”
His eyes held hers. “You’re sure?”
She didn’t like him having the upper hand. Because he did. “I’m sure.”
“Because,” Sawyer continued as if she hadn’t answered him, “I’m finding I’m having trouble containing myself.” He looked at her pointedly, admitting things he knew he should have kept to himself. “That’s never happened before.”
Sawyer wasn’t the type to string a woman along, or feed her lines, Janelle thought. Instinctively, she knew that about him. The man didn’t like lies. Which meant he was telling her the truth. She could feel her pulse accelerating again.
“No?”
He was leaving himself open, Sawyer thought. Vulnerable. He was asking for trouble. And pain. And yet, he couldn’t just turn away. It was too late for that. Coming back and finding Mariel pointing a gun at Janelle had showed him that.
“No.”
Janelle inclined her head. “I guess I’m honored then.”
“You certainly are something,” he said almost under his breath. Just then, as if to cool a mood that was swiftly heating up, her cell phone rang. Mentally, Janelle cursed it, and Sawyer dropped his hand. “Maybe you’d better get that,” he suggested.
Suppressing her impatience, Janelle pulled the small cell phone out of her purse. It took everything she had not to snap out her name. “Cavanaugh.”
“Thank you.”
There was no preamble. There didn’t have to be. She immediately knew who the deep voice belonged to, even though she’d never given her number to the man on the other end of her phone.