Hot Secrets (11 page)

“Ah,” he said. “Well. It’s all over the news. Why
not file that police report?”

“Someone throwing alcohol at us is in the news,” she
said. “My phone calls are not. And you and I both know the police
will do less than what you’re doing and someone will blab. This
kind of thing feeds copycats. I don’t need to invite that kind of
attention to me, or anyone in a similar position on a tough
case.”

“Are you confident this is about the case?”

She inhaled and let it out. “I don’t know. I have ticking
clocks and one day marked off a calendar. How do I know what that
means? Logic says it’s this case though. That’s all I can go
on.”

“Do you have your files on your computer? Can you go
through them and make a list of the most likely suspects?”

“Royce, you were FBI. Is there even one of the perps
you took down that would send you a Christmas card?”

“No,” he said. “But I know the ones that were the
most vicious and the most likely to lash out. We need to start
there.”

“I have my files.”

“Then when we get back here, we’ll go through them.
We’ll get this behind you. I promise.”

Lauren wasn’t one to lean on other people, but in that
moment, she was secretly far more thankful for that promise than
she was willing to admit to anyone, even him. And not because she
didn’t appreciate his efforts. Because she knew that if she let him
know just how rattled she was, if she admitted it to him, she’d
have to admit it to herself. The way she compartmentalized the bad
stuff that came with her job didn’t work that way. There was an
order to the way she dealt with things. She had to maintain
control. Not Royce.

***

Several hours later, Lauren shivered as she stepped off the
elevator and into the corridor outside her apartment. “Well, we
didn’t beat the rain,” she said, shivering from the cold droplets
that lingered on her black jeans and red t-shirt, as well as her
hair. “I hope the sandwiches we walked two blocks for are worth
getting wet over. I’ve never tried this place.”

She scooped her keys from her purse. Royce’s cell
phone rang and he dropped his overnight bag on the ground, and
Lauren took the bag of food from him so he could answer it.

He held his phone and punched the ‘answer’ button as
his gaze dropped to the bottom of the door. He answered the call
with, “I’ll call you back,” then ended the connection and stuck his
phone back onto his belt.

Lauren’s gaze settled on the envelope on the ground
and she knew that had to be what he was reacting to, and she was
downright chilled to the bone now. “We’ve only been gone a few
hours. There have to be security cameras.”

“There are and they showed no evidence of anyone but
us at your door in the past few days. Let me have your keys.”

Lauren set the bag on the floor and fished them from
her purse. He took them and checked the door over before opening it
and grabbing the envelope. “Stay here.”

“Right,” she said stiffly. “I’ve got the drill down.
You go. I wait.”

He tilted her chin up with his finger. “I’ll make
this go away, Lauren. I promise.”

“Keep saying that,” she encouraged, confessing more
than she should, more than she told herself just hours before that
she would, but unable to stop herself. “It helps to hear it.”

***

After Royce searched the apartment, he found Lauren
in the hallway and gave her the ‘all clear’ to come inside.
Standing at the kitchen table, he showed her the calendar sheet
he’d already pulled from the envelope with an additional day marked
off. This time there was a message made from cutout letters.

Lauren frowned, reading it. “The countdown
continues.” She shook her head. “There’s no ending date for me to
have any idea where this is headed. It’s making me crazy.”

“When you see that paper and hear the ticking clock,
what’s the first thing, or things, that comes to your mind?”

“This case. It’s a death penalty case. Well, there
is this other…” She pursed her lips. “No. Never mind.”

“What?” he asked. “Say it. It’s better to look at
all options than not.”

She leaned one and on the table. “I hesitate to
bring this up because I was second chair, but my first death
penalty case, a guy named Sheridan, goes to execution soon.”

“When?”

“
Ironically, two weeks after this new trial begins but it’s
been stayed several times. It could easily be again.”

“Who was the first chair?”

“He’s dead, natural causes.”

Royce stiffened at that news. “You’re sure it was
natural?”

“Not only did the man practically inhale his weight
in grease every day, the phrase ‘smoke like a chimney’ was created
in his honor. He had a heart attack. It’s a reach but it’s what
came to my mind on several occasions, so there it is.”

Royce grabbed his phone and punched in Luke’s
number, before giving his brother the Sheridan execution and case
to research. He asked Lauren a couple of questions for Luke and
then ended the call.

“I hate that your brothers are being bothered with
this,” Lauren said, her hands on the back of one of the chairs. “I
hate you’re being bothered with this. I know you have work of your
own to deal with.”

“They don’t question what I need any more than I
question what they need. We have each other’s backs.” He pulled her
against him, her hips to his, his arms around her waist. “And I
have yours.”

Her hand settled on his chest and he doubted she
knew just how much her touch scorched him, how much she affected
him without even trying. “You barely know me,” she argued.

“But I want to, which means keeping you safe so I
get the chance.” She shivered and he ran his hands down her arms.
“Why don’t I don’t I start a fire before we eat? I noticed you have
wood.”

“I’d like that,” she said. “I think I’ll go throw on
some dry clothes.” She started to turn and paused. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do.” She hesitated. “Just… I do.” She rose up
on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Royce knew she meant to make it quick kiss and then escape,
but she was tiny and soft in his arms and felt more perfect than
anyone had in a very long time. It tormented him to know he was
deceiving her but he shoved aside the reality he’d eventually have
to face and wrapped his fingers around her neck, holding her to
him. His tongue pressed into hers, stealing one sweet taste before
he murmured, “Hurry back. I’m hungry.” And if she wasn’t clear that
he wasn’t talking about sandwiches, she would be soon.

Chapter Nine

Royce watched Lauren disappear into her bedroom, thinking
about the senator’s insistence that she would dismiss a threat, and
put herself in harm’s way. Sure, he saw her caution about
overr
eacting, but he
couldn’t blame her in the role she was in with the DA. Most
importantly thought, she wasn’t under reacting either or pretending
nothing was wrong. The senator clearly knew something he wasn’t
saying, something he didn’t want Lauren to know.

Royce headed to the front door and unzipped his bag
and replaced his wet Yankees t-shirt with a dry white one on his
way to the door. He had Luke on the line the instant he was in the
hallway. “Senators can’t give stays of execution,” Royce said. “I
get that but”

“They can influence them,” Luke finished for him.
“I’m already on it. I’m trying to find any connection between the
senator and the Sheridan case, be it past or present, or both.”

“
You mean
I’m
trying,”
came Blake’s voice in the background. “And I’m already on it.
Apparently, you’re taking all the credit.”

Luke grimaced at Blake’s comment and continued speaking to
Royce. “As you can see, I’ve recruited help. While Blake works the
Sheridan angle, I’m working on anything and everything the senator
has touched in the past year. Are you going to tell him about the
phone calls and the calendars Lauren is getting?”

“Not yet,” Royce said. “Let’s see what we come up
with first.”

“Exactly my thought,” Luke agreed. “This whole
secrecy thing just doesn’t add up.”

“Agreed,” Royce said, glancing at the caller ID as
his phone beeped. “Speak of the devil, the senator is calling me.
Text me when you find something out.” He ended the call and flipped
over to the next. “This is Royce.”

“Update, son. What is happening with my
daughter?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to find out,” he
said. “And it would be easier if we told her what is going on.”

The Senator grunted. “Absolutely not.”

Royce ran a hand through his hair. “She is going to
hate us both when she finds out we didn’t tell her.”

“Then don’t let her find out,” he said bitingly.
“Where is she now?”

“She’s safe.”

“Translate that to a detailed assurance.”

“I’m with her, out of her hearing range.”

“Well done,” he said. “I’ve got to head to a
meeting. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

“Have you?” The line went dead.

Royce dropped the phone to stare at it in disbelief.
Damn it to hell, he’d hung up. And without one single question
about the progress on finding out who was behind the letters or
what the lab had found out. More and more, something didn’t add
up.

***

Lauren returned, having dried her hair, dressed in
black sweats, a tee, and slipper socks, to find Royce stoking a
fire that seemed to be on its way to a nice blaze.

He rotated on his heels from where he squatted,
apparently hearing her approach, his gaze hotter than the fire, as
it traveled a path up and down her body and settled on her t-shirt.
He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest. Damn, she loved his
laugh. “Lawyers have more fun?” he asked.

“
Julie got it for me since I always tell her blondes have
more fun. I told her the shirt proves nothing.” She motioned to the
kitchen. ”I’ll grab the drinks. I’m starving.”

A few minutes later, they both sat on the floor with
their laptops at the ready, their Reubens on plates. The fire
crackled and rain splattered on the window in heavier taps.

Lauren took a bite of her sandwich and sighed. “Either it’s
good or I’m just really, really hungry.”

“It’s good,” he agreed. “I haven’t had one of these
in a long time.” He opened the container with his cheesecake and
took a bite. “It’s good, too.”

“I’ve never seen anyone eat dessert with their meal
instead of after.”

“It’s better than before, right?”

“I suppose it is,” she agreed and found herself
considering him a moment. “You know, you really aren’t what I
expected.”

“You’ve said that before the other night and then
fell asleep. This time you’re not getting out of an
explanation.”

“You’re just… different.”

“Different from other men you’ve known? From the
politicians you work with?”

“Everyone else around me. I’m surprised you took the
state advisor job. It doesn’t seem like you to want to deal with
the politics of things.”

“
I tolerate the politics, because I’m able to influence
decisions that impact the safety of the public. I worked some
pretty intense post 9/11 FBI operations. I don’t ever want the
people of this country, this city, to see 9/11 happen again. And as
I suspect you have done, I made the decision to grin and bear what
I had to, to make an impact, or at least try. Frankly, I‘m shocked
you aren’t working for your father’s law firm.”

She took a sip of her drink and set it down. “My father is
all about money and power. That’s just not who I am. It wasn’t who
my mother was either. Looking back, I think she chose to be a
professor over a practicing lawyer to avoid the differences between
her and my father.” She opened her cheesecake and took a bite. “Oh,
that’s good.” She shoved her sandwich aside.

“Now look who’s eating out of order,” he teased.

“I ate half my sandwich,” she said. “That’s enough
for me. You want the other half?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said and grabbed her
plate, setting his now empty one aside and then surprised her by
asking, “Didn’t I read you were engaged at some point?”

Her fork stilled in her mouth a moment, before she
nodded and set it down, her gaze fixing on the orange flames of the
fire. “Yeah. I was.”

Royce slid a finger under her chin. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean to pry.”

“You’re not. It’s just not a happy subject.”

“He hurt you.”

“I caught him in bed with another woman.” She held
up a hand. “And don’t do the sympathy thing. After I was over the
initial shock of his betrayal, I was actually relieved.” Lauren
turned to face him, leaning her elbow on the couch, her legs curled
to her side. “I wasn’t happy with him. I knew long before we broke
up that he didn’t want me. He wanted control of my father’s law
firm. By him taking it, I didn’t have to deal with my father’s
nagging for me to take over.”

“
He hates it,” she said. “And he really hates this case I’m
about to go to trial on, because the defendant is playing the
battered woman card and I’m being painted as a monster. He’s been
getting hate mail and phone calls over it.”

“Have you seen any of the mail?”

“
I don’t want to see it. I get plenty of my own. It’s part
of the job. But that’s just it. It’s my job, not his. I’m helping
victims fight for justice and that feels good. I hope my ex stays
with my father’s firm forever and the two of them live happily ever
after making tons of money. That’s not what motivates
me.”

“Wait. Are you saying he still works there?”

“My ex and my stepbrother are controlling
partners.”

“I’d have kicked his ass and wiped the floor with
him and then thrown his stuff out the door with him. I can’t
believe your father let him stay.”