Deadly Charade (5 page)

Chapter 7

T
he day after she talked to Tony, Linda stood in the office across the hall from hers and exhaled in frustration. “Look, Heald, I’m just asking you for a favor. The evidence against the defendant is strong, but it’s not foolproof. You like a challenge, don’t you?”

Heald crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. “So do you. So why are you in such a hurry to hand it off? You lost a case recently, didn’t you? Did it make you lose your nerve?”

Jerk, she thought, wondering how many times she would before this conversation was over. He was still pissed that she’d shot him down. Why else would he deliberately mention her recent loss in court?

She didn’t like having to ask anyone, let alone Brian Heald, a favor. But, unfortunately, he and Neil were the only two deputies with the time to take Tony’s case, and because of their recent flirtations, because Tony had specifically witnessed Neil’s flirtation with her, Linda didn’t want Neil and Tony getting within speaking distance of one another.

“I told you. I have a scheduling conflict,” Linda said. She could do her duty and find another prosecutor to handle Tony’s case without revealing the fact they’d used to be intimate. That was nobody’s business but their own.

“You never have scheduling conflicts. You’d have to have a life for that. Besides, I heard this guy is a user and has a past connection to Guapo. Along with his confession? Sounds like a pretty foolproof nonchallenging case to me.”

She stared at him, struggling to hide her surprise. Damn it, Allie must have been talking about Tony’s case with Brian. She hadn’t told Allie to keep their discussion about Tony’s case a secret, so the other woman hadn’t done anything wrong exactly, but Linda should have been more careful about revealing Tony’s personal business to anyone. “So that’s a no?” she confirmed.

“Unless you’d like to reconsider my invitation to go clubbing? If you promise not to get jealous, I’ll show you pics from my vacation.”

Ugh. He was an even bigger jerk than she’d thought. Linda smiled stiffly. “No, as tempting as that offer is, I think I’ll pass. Thanks a lot.”

“Anytime, Linda,” he said, pointing his trigger finger at her like a gun, a gesture he often used when he was trying to be cooler than cool.

Barely refraining from rolling her eyes, she turned and walked out the door.

And ran straight into Neil.

He was looking at her with a puzzled frown. “What’s going on, Linda? I heard part of what you were saying to Brian.... You need me to take a case for you?”

She did, but she knew Neil. He’d ask questions and wouldn’t relent until he’d gotten some satisfactory answers. Would she give them to him?

She liked and respected him. He seemed to feel the same way, and she believed she had his genuine support when it came to her bid for the open judgeship. Instinctively she felt she could trust him to be discreet about her past with Tony, something she hadn’t believed about Brian.

Linda suppressed a sigh of resignation, and then did what she should have done in the first place. She pulled Neil into her office so they’d have some privacy, then explained about Tony.

“To be clear, I’m not asking for special privileges or leniency. I wouldn’t want you to handle this case any differently than any other. But as far as my involvement with Tony...I’d rather it not be an issue unless it has to be.”

Neil nodded slowly. “I understand why you wouldn’t want word of that getting out, especially now. It’s irrelevant to your qualifications as a judge anyway. Plus, you obviously knew leaving the guy was the right thing. That must have been hard for you. I can see you still care about him.”

She hesitated. “I care about the man I once knew. This man?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

“You have to know this already, but if you have personal knowledge about his history with drugs, that could be relevant should he go to trial for Guapo’s murder. To establish how they knew each other. And a possible motive.”

She swallowed hard. She knew that, and she was taking a gamble, but she didn’t have any other choice. “Read the file. You’ll find there’s more than enough evidence to prove his guilt without having to delve into his past romantic relationships, even the one he had with me.”

It was true, but even so she couldn’t help remembering Tony’s accusation that the reason she was recusing herself as the prosecutor on his case was because she didn’t want her reputation or her judicial campaign tainted by their past. While that wasn’t her main motivation, she couldn’t deny that he was partially correct. But was that so wrong? To want to protect her future when she knew he could never be a part of it anyway? Swallowing tightly, she returned her attention to Neil.

“In the event Tony recants his confession, you can also move to unseal the confidential court documents proving he acted as a confidential informant against Guapo. But if it comes down to it, if you absolutely need me to testify, I’ll do it. I won’t ask you to ignore your ethical duty or my own.”

Neil stared at her then placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for trusting me with this information, Linda. I’ll review the file and let you know if I run into anything troubling.”

Twenty minutes later she was alone again. But despite her transparency with Neil and his reassurances, her stomach still felt weighed down with dread.

Tony hadn’t given her any reason to believe he deserved her help, yet he’d accused her of abandoning him. Maybe she hadn’t done it the first time, but was she doing it now? Was she simply thinking of herself so she wouldn’t have to deal with the man she’d once loved?

And to some extent, despite everything, the man she
still
loved?

Just as she’d continued to love her father despite knowing he was a thief.

To her horror, tears of helplessness welled in her eyes. She felt torn. Like she was grieving her childhood and the end of her relationship with Tony all over again. And she knew why. Even years after her mother had finally left her father, she’d always harbored hope that he would turn his life around and choose a relationship with her over his thieving ways. It was the same hope she’d harbored about Tony and his addiction. That someday Tony would return to her. That they’d beat the odds and end up together.

But with each minute that passed, there was more and more evidence being discovered to prove they wouldn’t.

She took a long, shaky breath.

She wasn’t abandoning Tony, she told herself.

She was doing what was best for both of them.

Neil was a good attorney. He’d be fair. Evaluate the evidence without the baggage of having known Tony in another context. As a lover.

If there was any chance Tony hadn’t killed Guapo, Tony would be lucky to have Neil as the prosecuting attorney.

And if the evidence showed otherwise, Neil would do what he was trained to do. What he and Linda and even Brian were compelled to do.

See that justice was done.

No matter how much it broke Linda’s heart.

Chapter 8

D
espite his somewhat shady past, Tony had never spent time in jail before. Frankly, he could have done without the experience. He had his own cell—a small box with a hard dingy mattress, and welded-together stainless-steel sink and toilet. The thing was so depressing he chose to spend most of his time in the public area where inmates could watch a television controlled by the guards. The current guard on duty was a basketball fan.

Funny thing about sports. So long as you were rooting for the same team, watching a game could bring together men who’d normally be at each other’s throats. Didn’t matter. Tony’s attention wasn’t on the game or his fellow cellmates. It was on Linda. How she’d expressed belief in him. And how he’d thrown that belief back in her face, deliberately hurting her.

Once again he told himself he’d had no choice. As tempted as he’d been to tell her the truth, he couldn’t let anyone know he cared about her or allow her to get close to him again. And if she knew the truth? She would get close to him again. She’d feel compelled to intercede. To protect him. Regardless of whether it put her in danger or not.

No, the only thing he could do was convince her that he was a bad man, a druggie and a murderer, so that she’d stay as far away from him as possible. That way if his cover was blown or someone decided they wanted to challenge him for the vacancy left by Guapo’s death, Linda wouldn’t become a target again.

“Man, what happened to the Kings? They suck,” the kid sitting to Tony’s left said, jolting him out of his thoughts.

Absently Tony turned his gaze on the televised game just in time to see a Kings player lose the ball. Still he said nothing. As Sacramento’s home team, the Kings had a loyal following even in lockup.

The kid snorted with disgust when the visiting team stole the ball. “What a waste of time. Guy couldn’t keep hold of the ball if it was glued to him. I—”

“Shut up.”

Though he kept his gaze on the game, Tony automatically stiffened. He recognized that voice. It belonged to Larry Moser, a hulk of a man two cells down from him. The one with a swastika tattoo on his forehead and who looked like he ate nails for breakfast. Literally. His teeth, what was left of them, were a mess.

Listen to him, kid,
Tony thought. But he wasn’t surprised when just the opposite happened.

“You a fan? I didn’t think they had any more of those. Like I said, they suck.”

Moser stood so suddenly that his chair would have toppled over if it hadn’t been bolted to the floor.

“I told you to shut your mouth. I don’t have a problem smacking my own kid around when he deserves it. What do you think I’ll do to you?”

Tony finally looked up. The kid was trying not to look scared, but his gaze flicked over to the guard’s station. The two guards on duty were talking, unaware of the tense situation currently brewing. The kid swallowed hard, then reluctantly stood. Tony understood why. Someone who wasn’t willing to stand up for himself in jail soon became victim to a whole new host of problems.

Moser stepped closer.

Tony’s pulse revved up. Damn it. He stood and faced the much bigger man. Damn, the guy looked like a bloody mountain. “You don’t want to do that,” he said quietly. “Even if the kid is an idiot.”

Moser laughed. “What do you know about what I want, pretty boy?”

Pretty boy. Not exactly what a man wants to be called when he’s locked up in jail with a bunch of other guys.

“Let’s just enjoy the game, okay? The kid won’t cause any more trouble. Will you?” Turning, Tony glared at the kid. The younger man opened his mouth but Tony never heard his reply.

Moser punched Tony in the face. Hard.

Tony staggered back, slamming into a table that, like the chairs, had no give. Pain shot through his leg, but he quickly straightened. Damn it, he wasn’t a natural fighter. Sabon had scarred him up plenty to prove it and, contrary to what he’d told Linda, Mattie had been the one to kill Sabon, not Tony.

Plus, even though he’d packed on weight and muscle since then, even though he’d trained and was a much better fighter now, better still didn’t mean he could go up against a man like Moser and win. Not without some kind of weapon. And by the way the kid had backed up and the other men around them had started cheering, he wasn’t going to be getting any help from them. The guards were shouting and moving toward them, but Moser was close enough to get in a couple more shots.

Hell,
Tony thought, throwing up an arm and managing to block the man’s next punch. Instinctively Tony raised his knee, ramming Moser in the chest, but the guy was so well padded it barely seemed to faze him. He did stagger back a few steps, however, giving Tony time to plan his next move. He danced in place for a second. Then, calling on the recent training he’d had, he kept his bad leg on the ground and struck out with his good one. As he did so, his instructor’s words echoed in his head. “Even if a karate kick reaches its target, it will lack destructive power if it is not withdrawn sharply. Think of your leg as a whip.”

Tony tried to be a whip, he really did. But although he landed what he thought was a powerful kick to Moser’s torso and although Moser again staggered back a few steps, he was on Tony much faster this time.

Moser got Tony into a headlock and mercilessly squeezed. Tony thrashed and rammed his elbow into Moser’s gut. Even as the man grunted, a faint buzzing sound rang in Tony’s ears and the world began to fade, but he could still hear the guards shouting.

He wondered if they’d get to them before Moser snapped his neck.

Chapter 9

I
n her office Linda rubbed her eyes tiredly, telling herself for the hundredth time that she needed to get her eyes checked. Or maybe her judgment checked. How could she run for a position on the bench, manage her own caseload and figure out what was going on with Tony all at the same time? She’d always thrived on the adrenaline rush, on the challenge, but she was down to about five hours of sleep a night, if that.

Linda was no longer prosecuting Tony’s case, but that didn’t stop her from reading his file for about the twentieth time. She reread the preliminary findings of Guapo’s autopsy report, once again struck by a feeling that she was missing something. Allie, who’d promised not to share any additional facts about Tony’s case with anyone except Neil, was seated in the guest chair in her office, reading the same report.

Dr. John Peluma had conducted the autopsy. “Cause of death was blood loss, blunt force trauma to the back of the head and a slash to his jugular. According to Peluma, Guapo wouldn’t have died right away,” Allie said, more to herself than Linda.

“No, he would have died a slow and agonizingly painful death.”

“Maybe that’s what the defendant wanted. Why else wouldn’t he have just brought a gun and gotten it over with? Maybe he wanted Guapo to suffer?”

Linda shuddered, horrified at the thought. But Allie had a point. A wrench or even a knife seemed an impractical way to carry out the deed. That’s what kept leading Linda back to the idea that Tony had attacked Guapo in self-defense or in defense of another. But then again, Guapo had suffered, just like Tony, a blow to the back of the head. That pointed to an offensive attack on him as much as it had on Tony.

“Maybe Cooper killed Guapo because of a woman?” Allie asked.

The thought of Tony loving another woman at all, let alone enough to kill for her, made Linda’s stomach twist. Of course it was possible—probable, even. After all, he and Linda had broken up years ago. Despite his drug problem Tony had always been a charmer and an amazing lover. It wouldn’t have taken a woman long to snatch up what Linda had tossed aside.

“Makes sense,” she responded, hating the tension in her voice. “But something else that doesn’t make sense are the wounds Guapo sustained. They’re contradictory. There’s the blow to the back of the head, but also...”

“Right. The autopsy report specified that Guapo’s jugular had been slashed with a deep vertical wound.”

“Vertical,” Linda repeated. “Here, hand me that report,” she said, gesturing impatiently.

Allie tossed her the report and she flipped to the front to confirm her suspicions.

“Tony Cooper is at least six inches taller than Guapo. A vertical wound suggests that Guapo’s assailant reached up to stab him.” She paused. Had Guapo somehow subdued Tony? Gotten him to his knees? Had Tony grabbed the blade from Guapo to protect himself? That made the most sense, otherwise why wouldn’t he have grabbed Guapo and slashed his throat with one quick horizontal pull? And why hadn’t the blade been found when the wrench had?

Linda rubbed her eyes again and dropped the autopsy report. She grabbed her hair in frustration, making a mental note to talk to Peluma about her concerns. But then she realized she couldn’t do that. This wasn’t her case anymore.

Talking through the facts with Allie was helpful, but Linda wanted to share her concerns with someone who had as much experience as she with these matters and probably even more. If she confided in Neil, however, he’d realize she was still working the case. Still invested in it. And in Tony.

The fewer people who knew that, the better.

She glanced at Allie. “Thanks for your help on this, but like I told you before, I handed this case off to Neil. If you have any thoughts, you should probably talk them over with him from now on.”

Allie nodded and stood. “I’m shadowing him on another case, so no worries. I will.”

After Linda thanked her again, Allie left.

No worries.

It was one of Allie’s favorite expressions, yet Linda had plenty to worry about.

She didn’t want to accept that she had been so wrong about Tony. Oh, she knew Tony had a temper, even if it was slow to show itself, and he certainly had reason to want revenge against Guapo. But to ruthlessly kill the man to eliminate his competition?

Maybe he’d snapped, an inner voice whispered. Maybe the danger Guapo had wrought upon them all had truly changed him...

She shook her head. She wouldn’t go there. If she started thinking that way, she’d be lost for sure. This was a man she’d loved.
Still
loved. And by his comments the last time she’d seen him, he obviously thought that by breaking up with him, she’d heartlessly abandoned him.

One more thing to feel guilty about would send her over the edge for sure. And this time, she knew, she wouldn’t be able to pull herself back.

Her phone rang and she answered. “This is Deputy D.A. Linda Delaney.”

“Hello, this is Deputy Roskins in the jail. I’m trying to find D.D.A. Neil Christoffersen, but I’ve been told he’s already left. You were the last deputy listed in the file before him and I wanted to make sure your office knows about an in-custody defendant that’s been assaulted.”

She quickly inhaled. “Who is it?” But she already knew. And part of her knew she’d go to his side. Knew that she had to see him. That even though he might be a bad man, and bad for her in so many ways, he still needed her.

“Tony Cooper.”

* * *

Tony kept his eyes closed and moaned against the pain. For a minute he remained caught in its nightmarish embrace. His leg and throat burned. Why?

Memory returned in bleak images of jail and basketball games and swastikas. They must have brought him to the hospital. Automatically his hand fumbled for the nurse’s call button. He didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to remember.

He hurt like hell.

All he wanted was drugs. The drugs would bring him relief. They’d make him feel good.

But there was a reason he couldn’t have them...

Ah, right.

Because he was an addict.

After his run-in with Guapo, before he was in any kind of shape to tell the hospital staff he was addicted to pain meds, they’d given him Oxy. They’d thought they were being merciful, but all they’d done was feed Tony’s addiction so that after years of managing his desire for the drug, he once again felt on the verge of giving in.

He heard a noise and sensed someone beside him. He took a deep breath. He needed to tell them. No drugs. He couldn’t—

“Tony.”

His eyes blinked open to find a woman leaning over him.

Linda.

He’d dreamed of her so often throughout the past year and dreams were so much better than the cold reality without her. Why was she here now? Looking at him as if she still...cared.

Linda leaned over and touched him, cupping his face and smoothing her palm over his forehead as if she was checking his temperature. Her gaze had that familiar expression she’d often worn around him, despair and affection mixed in one confusing bundle. The times she’d been able to look at him with simple joy, with no doubt, were few and far between, and that was probably the biggest regret of his life. But right now there was no regret. He simply enjoyed her presence, wondering where they were. Why she’d finally come to him...

Once again memory clicked into place, hitting him with the force of a sledgehammer.

She might be here, but they weren’t together.

They weren’t ever going to be together again.

Hell, she wasn’t even going to be the lawyer prosecuting him for Guapo’s murder. Good and bad news, that. He wouldn’t be so distracted or tempted to tell her the truth. But he wouldn’t get the extra time with her, either.

For all he knew, this might be his last opportunity to talk to her.

It almost came rushing out of him then. His love for her. But he reminded himself of what he was doing.

Suddenly their gazes met and she saw he was awake. Swiftly she withdrew her hand.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“Jail infirmary. Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah. I got into a fight with someone about a basketball game.”

“Right.”

He narrowed his eyes at her slow drawl. “I’m telling you the truth.”

“Just not the whole truth. Rumor is you were protecting someone else from getting coldcocked. Someone younger and with a big mouth.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay.”

“So why are you here? Were you hoping I’d made things easy on you and gotten myself killed?”

She paled and shook her head. Leaned closer, as if to mesmerize him with the color of her green eyes. “Don’t say things like that,” she said fiercely. “Now how are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

She sounded so much like herself, so much like the woman who’d jump to his defense if anyone, even himself, dared to put him down, that he couldn’t help smiling. She sounded as if she actually still cared about him. That knowledge filled him with a slight sense of unease and he said, “What if I am? You gonna get me some pills? Kiss my ‘owies’ and make them better?”

She blushed and he remembered how often she’d done just that, sprinkling butterfly kisses across his back and leg to distract him from his pain. He also remembered how thoroughly the distraction had worked.

“Stop trying to pick a fight and just tell me if you need anything,” she said softly.

“I need you,” he said before he could stop himself. “I always have.”

Eyes widening, she sucked in a breath. Then tears filled her eyes before she quickly blinked them away. “Tony,” she said on a breath, and it was all there in her voice—the same regret she’d felt on the night she’d broken up with him. So yes, he was right. She did still care about him.

But like always, that didn’t change a thing.

Even so, with the light behind her, her hair looked like a halo around her head.

An angel of mercy in a jail infirmary. And as much as he told himself he should take back the words of need he’d just voiced, that he should push her away yet again, he couldn’t do it.

Instinctively he reached for her. His angel.

He smoothed his knuckles against her cheek and, to his surprise, she let him. But it shouldn’t have surprised him. She was a natural caregiver. As passionate and vivacious and playful as she’d often been with him, she’d never been able to see him in pain without hurting herself. In addition to kissing his “owies,” she’d even taken a massage-therapy class so she could help him with his back and leg when they bothered him. But of course what would initially start as a therapeutic massage had almost always transformed into something sensual before too long. When images of their past lovemaking flashed in his head, his hand instinctively moved to cup her neck and pull her down toward him. But before he could, she pulled away.

He forced himself not to reach for her again.

She’d been right to reject him. He was in jail for killing a man! And hadn’t he just been wishing for the oblivion the drugs could bring him?

Once an addict, always an addict.

He was a high-maintenance mess. Far more work than caring for a dog ever would be and she’d already voiced her preferences for cats because even a dog would require too much of her.

“You ever get a cat?” he asked, surprising both of them.

She blinked, then laughed. “What?”

“You used to want one. When we were together. I was just wondering....”

Her expression closed up. “No. After what happened with Guapo’s men, I had a lot of physical therapy to do. And then catching up with work...well.” She shrugged. “I don’t have a lot of free time to give a pet.”

He stared at her, imagining her participating in hours of painful physical therapy because of him. “Do you still do physical therapy?”

“Occasionally. When something’s bothering me. Mostly...mostly my right knee. One of Guapo’s men broke it,” she said.

He closed his eyes in horror. “God, Linda. I wouldn’t blame you for wishing me dead. A whole lot of lives would be better off if I wasn’t around. Everyone knows that.”

“Not everyone. Not me. And Mattie would never say that. Not in a million years.”

He didn’t argue with her. She was right, after all. His sister had stuck by him and though she’d tried to talk him out of coming back to Sacramento, in the end she’d continued to stick by him. If he needed her—correction, if he
asked
for help from her—she’d be by his side in a second. And that’s why he couldn’t ask for her help.

“Mattie left me a letter telling me about WITSEC.” When he said nothing, she gave an exasperated sign. “I know you can’t tell me where they are. Or maybe you don’t even know. But she was my best friend. Do you know if they’re okay?”

He shifted to sit up, and a wave of pain hit him with the strength of one of California’s northern coastal waves. Again he could barely stop himself from asking for drugs. From begging Linda to get them for him. But he forced himself to take several deep breaths until the urge passed. Still, she frowned as her gaze swept over him, as if she was trying to assess what part of his body was troubling him the most.

This wasn’t good. The fact that she’d told him about her knee injury and had even asked about Mattie was reminding him all too well of how easy it had always been to talk to her. He’d revealed things to her that he’d never told anyone else, some things that he’d been deeply ashamed of. And he’d always felt safe doing so. Until she’d left him.

“Small talk, Linda?” he said finally, knowing he’d get a rise out of her. Knowing she’d be diverted enough to at least not ask about his level of pain.

“So you won’t even tell me Mattie and Jordan are safe?”

“The answer is, I don’t know. Where they are or
how
they are.” Only half of that statement was a lie. He didn’t know where they were, but he had no doubt they were safe. Dominic Jeffries, Mattie’s husband, would make sure of that.

For months, they’d all been in WITSEC together—Dom, Tony, Mattie, and Jordan. But one of the conditions of him returning to Sacramento was that Dom move them again. And not tell Tony where they went. Just in case. “And it has to stay that way.”