“I’m damn glad to hear Mark has some sense. This is serious stuff.”
She snapped. “Stop acting like I am some novice, and show me the file.”
Steve sat back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his wide chest. “What gives, Lindsey?”
Lindsey looked at her coffee cup, and then back at him. “Sorry, Steve. I guess I’m more on edge than I realized.”
He stared at her for several seconds, and then nodded. “I know you have a lot on you right now.”
“It’s no excuse for me snapping. I’m sorry.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Let’s talk Vegas,” he offered, giving her an escape from the moment, which she appreciated because she knew it was his intent.
“You said there were no suspects, right?” Lindsey asked.
“No one. They came up dry. The girls went to the same school and hung out at the same bar.”
A chill raced up her spine. “Bar? So far I have confirmed at least two of the girls in the Williams case hung out at the same bar.”
“Could be a lead,” he said. “I included a lot of general information like drivers’ license pictures of victims, and contact info for the detectives on the case.”
Lindsey took the folder. “Did the detectives here locally follow up on the Vegas lead? If they searched the national database, they would have found this.”
“The grapevine is pretty tight-lipped, but the word is that yes, it was examined but ruled out.”
Lindsey frowned. Steve asked, “What?”
Lindsey sighed. “You know what I am thinking. The obvious.”
“There was no way to tie Williams to the cases, so someone pushed Vegas under the rug.” His tone was grim with the potential truth. He and Lindsey both knew those type of things happened if someone had a political agenda and needed a conviction.
Lindsey nodded and then asked, “What time do you have?”
He glanced at his watch. “Eight forty-five. You better hit it if you’re going to shower.”
Lindsey took a big swig of her coffee and dotted her mouth with her napkin. “Yeah, my first day back in court. I better dress the part.”
“I won’t ask why you are wearing wrinkled clothes.”
They both knew she was meticulous about her appearance. Not only that, the very fact she was rushing home to change confirmed any assumptions he might make.
“And I won’t explain.” Lindsey stood up and grabbed the folder and her briefcase. After giving Steve a quick kiss and promising to check in that night, she started for the door.
Steve reached out and grabbed her arm. He grabbed her hand. “Be careful,” he said looking at her with concern etched in his face.
She nodded and turned to walk away but suddenly had a thought that made her turn back. “Hudson, the last trial I didn’t handle, can you find out how conclusive the DNA evidence was?”
He eyed her. “I can. You think it was a plant?”
“Maybe,” she said. “It’s a long shot, but worth looking at.”
* * * * *
Lindsey started stripping the minute she walked into her apartment, leaving a trail of clothes leading to the shower. Late to court wasn’t an option. Twenty minutes later, dressed in a stylish black suit, her hair twisted into a neat bun, she walked out her front door, dialing her phone as she pulled it shut behind her.
The receptionist at Paxton answered in two rings. “I need Mark. This is Lindsey.”
“Oh, dear,” she said in a panicked voice. “Mark has been grumbling about you.”
“I imagine.” Lucky for her, court would make it impossible for him to yell at her.
Music came on the line, and then, “Damn it Lindsey, where are you?”
“Temper, temper,” she said. “I’m on my way to the courthouse now. I’ll meet you in front.”
“If you ever pull a stunt like this again I swear I . . .”
Lindsey interrupted. “You’ll what?”
“Just get your ass to the courthouse.” The line went dead.
She stared at the phone. “That went well.” She sighed and hit end.
Lindsey stepped out of the cab to find Mark pacing the steps of the courthouse. The minute he saw her, he stalked in her direction looking like a hard-nosed, perfectly-dressed attorney who happened to be breathtaking sexy, and so angry he looked like he could kill.
The instant he was within hearing range, he started his verbal lashing. “You could have made us late.” He tapped the face of his watch.
Her chin lifted defiantly. “But I didn’t.”
Mark grabbed her arm, not hard, but no less forceful, as he leaned down, his mouth near her ear. “Don’t pull a stunt like this again.”
Lindsey’s eyes lifted to his, a challenge in the direct stare she gave him. “Or what, Mark?”
He looked her squarely in the eye. “Or I won’t stay around to deal with it.”
Her eyes widened with disbelief. She didn’t think he would hold his presence over her head. “You know what?” she asked, her tone low, but packed with fury. “I want your help, but I won’t have it held over my head. If this is how it’s going to be, then forget it. I don’t want your help. Give me the file, and I will take over.”
His eyes were so dark brown they were almost black, and she could see a muscle in his jaw jump. She could almost hear him count to ten in his head. Then, as if the anger she had just seen in his eyes had never existed, an aloof coolness filled his face. His hand dropped from her arm. “This isn’t the time or place for this discussion. We’re due in court.”
For a moment, she actually had the crazed desire to tell him to go to hell, demand the case file, and march up the courtroom stairs by herself. A moment was it. After that, sanity took over. She didn’t want the case or the firm. “Fine,” she spat, because no other words came to mind. Not ones that wouldn’t greatly hurt her chances of keeping Mark at Paxton.
They eyed one another, a stand-off of sorts, and without another word, turned and walked, side by side, up the courthouse steps. A few minutes later, not a word spoken between them, they stepped into the courtroom. As they approached the defense table, Lindsey momentarily stopped walking. She could hardly believe who was representing the state.
Mark’s head jerked in her direction. “What?”
She swallowed, and started walking again. “Prosecutor change. Not a good one.”
Mark followed her lead. “Meaning what?”
She eyed him as they sat down. “Meaning Greg Harrison is not one of my favorite people.” In fact, he was one of her least favorites.
Mark leaned close. “I’m not in the mood for anymore surprises.”
She gave him a hard stare. “He’s my ex-fiancé, Mark.”
He shut his eyes a minute, and then refocused. “Let me guess? He isn’t going to play nice?”
“We’ll see, I guess.”
Mark pulled the case file out of his briefcase. “Wonderful. This day gets better and better.” He looked beyond her shoulder. “Don’t look now.”
Lindsey turned as Greg was almost upon them. Dark hair, blue eyes, with a tall, athletic build, most found him attractive. She’d seen the man beneath the outer shell. He was far more beast than beauty. “Hi, Greg,” she said, before he could speak, eager to take control of the conversation. She knew Greg. He was big on commanding the room. She indicated Mark with her hand, pushing her chair back so they could see each other. “Do you two know each other?”
“We know each other,” Mark said with cool politeness.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were back in town?” Greg said, focused on Lindsey, ignoring Mark.
She didn’t even try to smile. It would have taken to much effort. “Now you know.”
“All rise for the Honorable Nelson Dearman.”
Lindsey turned towards the judge, dismissing Greg with her action. “Catch you after court,” he whispered, leaning down far too close to her ear. And then he was gone.
Lindsey felt Mark rise next to her. It was strange letting him take control. She was used to controlling the courtroom, not watching another take charge. Forcing herself to ease back into her chair, she watched Mark in action. He presented well, compelling but not overbearing. It wasn’t long before a thirty-day continuance was in the pocket, and they exited the courtroom.
Her name rang out through the hallway, but Lindsey didn’t turn; she already knew it was Greg. She tried to ignore him, but he was persistent, simply increasing his volume. Just before she hit the elevator button, she exchanged a glance with Mark. His expression held both irritation and a demand: Shut the man up.
She turned, teeth clenched, as she willed herself to stay cool. “Lindsey?” Greg said, a bit out of breath as he stopped beside her. As if he had been half-running. “I thought we were going to talk after court?”
The elevator door opened. “When did we say that?”
He ignored her question. “Are you here to stay?”
“
No,” she stated, her tone flat.
“How long?” he asked.
The elevator doors closed. “Too long.”
He stared at her. “Lindsey, please ease up.”
He glanced at Mark as if he was trying to decide what he should say in front of him. Then he took a step closer and leaned his head closer to Lindsey. “Have dinner with me.”
Even in a low tone, Greg came off demanding. Lindsey bit back her words, wanting to tell him what he could do with his dinner. “Not going to happen,” she said, stepping backwards so close to Mark she was almost touching him.
His eyes flashed with irritation. Maybe even a hint of anger. “I’ll call you,” he stated.
“I would rather you not.” Lindsey glanced up at Mark and then back to Greg. “We’re in a rush.” She punched the elevator button a little too hard, as if it would open the doors faster. Luck was on her side because it worked. The doors opened. “Goodbye, Greg,” she said, and gave him her back as she stepped into her escape car.
As she turned to face forward, Mark by her side, Greg’s eyes locked with hers. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
And then the doors slid shut.
Mark stared straight ahead. “This is going well.”
Lindsey shot him a glowering look. She was up to her chin with men for the day. Silence filled the elevator except for the ding at the floors, then, “I can’t see you with him.”
She laughed. Bitter. “That makes two of us.”
He didn’t ask anything more and she didn’t offer. By the time they were in the back of a cab, Lindsey was about to scream for the strain of their silence. She turned to him. “Yell at me or something. This tension is driving me nuts.”
Mark was leaning against the seat, his body relaxed. “It’s done.” As if that was it.
“Okay,” she said, turning away from him. “If that’s how you want it, so be it.”
She felt his eyes shift to her, but she didn’t look at him. “I don’t like these little games you’re playing.”
Her head turned. “Games?” she demanded. “What games?”
“That stunt this morning.”
“You can’t just demand to go with me, and expect me to do your bidding.”
“When it comes to Paxton or this case, I damn sure can.” His lips thinned, eyes narrowing. “Tell me I’m wrong, Lindsey.” A dare laced his words.
She turned away, staring out the window, fighting the roll of anger burning inside. Oh, how she wanted to tell him to go to hell. “You are so like them.”
“Like who?”
Damn. Had she said that out loud? Her arms crossed in front of her body. “No one.” She refused to look at him.
His hand went to her arm. “Who?”
“My father,” she said, her tempter getting the best of her. “Greg.” There, it was said. Her voice was lower now, but no less intense, her eyes hard as they met his. “Men who have to be all and control all.”
Surprised registered in his face. “What does Greg have to do with this?”
“He and my father had it all planned out.” Her voice held bitterness. “Greg was just the kind of man my father wanted attached to me and Paxton.”
“But you didn’t see it that way?” he asked, speculation in his tone.
She felt the regret of her past mistakes. “I got smart. When Greg proposed, I declined.”
He raised a brow in question. “Just like that?”
“You make it sound simple. It wasn’t. It took a dead girl for me to see the light. Until then, I would have done anything to please my father.”
“Including marrying Greg?”
She looked away, unable to face the truth, let alone admit it out loud. “I didn’t. That’s what counts.”
He was silent for so long it was hard not to turn and look at him. Finally, he said, “I’m not like them.”
She wanted to believe that, but today he had tried to keep her under thumb. She didn’t respond. What good would it do?
Mark didn’t accept her silence. “Can you say something, Lindsey?”
She turned to him. “What am I supposed to say?”
His eyes flared. “Why is it wrong for me to worry about you when some crazy person has been killing women who look just like you?” His face hardened. “Does that make me controlling? Does that make me a jerk? If it does, I’ll live with it rather than see something happen to you.”