Safe in His Sight (6 page)

She slid a look at him and gave him a bright smile to cover her sudden sadness. In her world, cold and ruthless were the right strengths to cultivate for success. They were people at absolute opposite ends of the spectrum.

*

Mitch kept an eye on Julia while she ate the soup. The lack of color in her cheeks and the worry in her green eyes made the situation more challenging. He had no experience as a private investigator and had only pulled a few shifts as extra security when his cousin, in charge of staffing big events like concerts and hockey games, needed the manpower.

Being a buffer for Julia was completely different and it made him uncomfortable that he didn’t really know what he was doing. True, it kept his mind off his problems, but that wouldn’t help her if he screwed up. As he ate, he reviewed the best options for delivering the update to Grant. It would be a hell of a lot easier if he had a real lead to share with them.

The back door slammed open with a bang and Julia practically leaped off the stool.

“Easy,” he said. Under the counter, he bumped her knee with his. He must not be doing a very good job if her anxiety was increasing with him around. “Would you rather listen to the band while I fill in Grant?”

“No. I should be there.”

“Should be there—or shouldn’t be seen out partying?”

“Both,” she said, her voice firm and her eyes clear as she met his gaze. “Don’t try and shut me out.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied.

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re a guy.”

“No kidding?” He didn’t take the bait. His sisters had taught him not to argue about the general faults of being a guy. “You could wait back here and have more to eat.”

“That picture sent to Haywood was no coincidence,” she said, eyeing the people moving through the kitchen. “He told me it came in just before the meeting.”

Not long after they’d had lunch together in the park. Mitch suppressed an ugly oath.

“It has to be from the stalker.”

“I agree.” The bastard was making her afraid of everything. He didn’t dare speculate how things might change now that Mitch was in the picture. He was about to suggest they shake things up even more when Grant caught his attention from the kitchen doorway and motioned for them to come to the office.

Mitch gave her an encouraging smile, hoping it hid the worry he felt. “Come on. Grant might have some better suggestions.”

Julia kicked things off, explaining the note and the significance of the names listed. While Grant mulled that over, Mitch told him about meeting with the doorman and the complete lack of any helpful video from the building security system. Julia and Mitch both confirmed they had yet to find so much as a frayed thread tying her to anyone involved with the Falk operation.

“Last but not least,” Julia added at Mitch’s encouragement, “after lunch today, someone sent my boss a picture of me here, shortly after I arrived last night.”

Grant fixed his perceptive brown gaze on her, his bushy eyebrows flexing into a frown. “How can you be so sure of the timing?”

“The picture shows I didn’t have the glass of water yet.”

“Not good,” Grant allowed. “You didn’t mention your plans to a friend?”

“I wish I had,” she replied. “Somehow intercepting a communication is easier to swallow than the concept of some stranger correctly guessing my decisions.”

Her weary expression pissed off Mitch more and he swore under his breath. “The guy must have a network at his disposal.”

“Considering the swift responses, I’d say you’re right,” Grant said. “I’ll ask around about any loose ends from Falk’s organization.” He turned to Julia. “What would you like to do? What’s your ideal outcome?”

“Expose him,” she replied. “Ideally, we protect the case and I keep my job.” She linked her hands in her lap until her knuckles turned white. “He didn’t make any contact with me today.”

“No, today was an indirect hit,” Grant said.

“Yes. I assume that picture was supposed to make me feel like a trapped mouse. As if all his other tactics haven’t been annoying enough.”

“Did those annoyances make you want to help him?”

“No.” Those auburn eyebrows arched high. “They make me want to rip him to shreds,” she said. “I want my life back.”

“We’ll get there,” Grant assured her. “It may take some time. I’ll have my team scour our security feeds for any clues.”

Mitch stood up, antsy with his lack of progress. “I’m at a loss.” Mitch hated admitting it in front of Julia, but she deserved to know. “Tracking down who left the note or who snapped that picture last night won’t get us anywhere. We need to know who’s calling the shots. I’ve done some digging.” He caught Julia’s wince. “I can’t figure out why she’s the target.”

“We’ll get there,” Grant repeated in that steady, deep way he had.

The knot in Mitch’s stomach loosened. It was far too soon to worry that his inadequacies would let her down.

“Who might have been selected to the defense team other than you?” Grant asked. “Maybe the clue to the stalker rests with who wasn’t chosen.”

“A number of new associates were eligible.” Closing her eyes a moment, she rubbed at her temples. “I do know one of the associates was passed over because his brother was part of the squad that arrested Falk. Other than that...” Her voice trailed off and she spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Then we wait and see,” Grant said. “Is there a trial date set?”

“Not yet.”

“Any talk of a plea deal?”

She shook her head, and for a moment Mitch was distracted by the soft wisps of hair that had escaped her clip swaying against her neck.

Grant frowned. “I sent the picture you took to a friend and there weren’t enough markers to make it worthwhile for facial recognition.”

“I’ll get a better picture when he shows his face again,” Mitch vowed. The stalker had taken an indirect shot today, but he still had the advantage.

“Stick to your routine, Julia,” Grant suggested. “And you—” he pointed at Mitch “—become a very obvious part of that routine.”

“You okay with that?” Mitch asked Julia.

She shrugged a shoulder. “I have to be.”

Hardly a glowing affirmation, though he didn’t blame her. He should tell her he admired that spark of determination in her eyes, that fortitude that kept her going despite the fear plaguing her.

“Keep me informed,” Grant said, interrupting Mitch’s thoughts. “I’m here for both of you.”

When they were back in his car, he started it and kicked the heater up a notch. The autumn night had turned chilly, offering a preview of the winter to come.

“Can you drive for a bit, please?” she asked when he pulled out of the lot.

“Sure. Any particular destination?”

“No. I’m just not ready to go home.”

He couldn’t blame her. Not only did she have him as an unwelcome houseguest, but it had to be tough knowing the jerk stalking her had been so close.

While he took the expressway across town, he weighed his options. He’d grown up here and, learning that she’d only moved here to attend law school at Temple, he wanted to show her something special. At nearly midnight, he left the expressway and headed for Boathouse Row.

She smiled when he pulled over, parking in a space that overlooked the Schuylkill River. On the other side of the river Boathouse Row shimmered with white lights edging each architectural detail.

“How beautiful,” she said, a hitch in her breath. “Thank you.”

“You’ve never been here?”

“No.”

Feeling a ridiculous amount of pride, he climbed out and came around to open her car door. “You need the full experience,” he said. He zipped up his jacket and pulled her coat snug around her, turning up the collar against the night air. “Wait here.”

He pulled the blanket out of the emergency kit in the trunk and spread it across the hood of the car. “Up you go.”

“Won’t it dent the hood?”

He shrugged. “I can always pop it out again.” He gave her a boost and then wrapped the blanket around her legs before he took a seat beside her, leaning back against the windshield.

“It’s lovely, Mitch.” She tipped her face up to the dark sky, a smile teasing her lips.

He savored the peacefulness of the view and the woman for several long minutes. “I come out here when I need to clear my head.”

She reached over and patted his hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He’d come here for her, but also for himself. Out here he was able to confirm his instincts that they had been watched today in the park. Grant had told them to stick with the routine, but Mitch instinctively wanted to get her away from the danger zone.

“How many lawyers will Marburg add to the team?” he asked.

“As many as they need,” she replied absently. “I’m not being intentionally vague, that’s just how it goes. Marburg is involved personally, of course, but his focus is managing media and publicity.” She sighed. “The rest of the team will do research and develop arguments that improve Falk’s chance of being acquitted.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Why would she eagerly defend one of the biggest criminals in the city?

She turned her head, gazing down the river toward the city center. “That’s how our legal system works. Everyone deserves a solid defense.”

He’d been through her transcripts, picked apart her life in law school and couldn’t see what had pushed her toward criminal defense. “But—”

“Can you judge me another night?”

“I’m not judging you,” he countered. He didn’t want to ruin a pleasant moment. “I’m trying to understand your stalker.”

“Right. You’re trying to understand my motives.”

Mitch bit back the urge to argue with her. He didn’t expect her to believe him. This wasn’t easy on either one of them, though she wouldn’t believe that either. “I’ve got a union rep defending me,” he blurted. Once the words were out, he decided maybe his problem would be a distraction for her, like her situation was for him.

“According to your explanation of the incident, you won’t need a strong-arm firm like Marburg.”

He chuckled. “Not even if I could afford it.”

She shifted a few inches closer, her covered legs bumping his, and faced him. “So what’s bugging you about your situation?”

“It leaves a mark, official or not.”

“You’re worried about how others will look at you when you’re back on the job.”

He’d assumed, tough as she was, that she wouldn’t understand. “It’s a small world, y’know?” He laced his fingers behind his head to keep his hands from reaching for her. They barely knew each other and she’d been clear she liked her personal space. “Eventually, I want to move up through the ranks, and this kind of thing is something they can point to as an excuse to turn me down for promotions.”

“Even if you’re cleared?” She sat up a little straighter. “That’s not fair.”

“That’s life.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you playing me?”

He gave her a long look. “Hell, no.” The flood of honesty might be the dumbest thing he’d done since they’d met. “What good would that do?”

“I don’t know, that’s the problem. Are you taking this ‘infiltrate my life’ thing too personally and trying to create a bond or something?”

Would that be so bad?
“I wasn’t. I was talking about me.” He stared out across the river. “It does bring up a valid question.”

“What’s that?”

“Why don’t you want to like me?” He’d noticed her utter lack of a social life and he thought it had more to do with her past than her present career. It wasn’t really his business and fewer people in her life meant fewer people who would ask about him hanging around.

“Take me home,” she replied. “We’re not friends. We’re basically client and expert. Two people stuck in a new and apparently difficult situation.”

Interesting. She resorted to the attorney lingo and unflappable courtroom voice when she got rattled. “We could be friends.” He heard the words and knew that’s what he wanted. To start with. He could list a dozen reasons why being friends was a good idea and probably a dozen more why distance was the wiser choice.

She slid off the hood to her feet, keeping the blanket wrapped around her. “I don’t play well with others, Mitch. I’m a better person when I’m alone,” she said.

The quiet words hung in the air, choking out what could have become a decent conversation. He wasn’t buying it, but he wouldn’t argue. Not yet. He’d been raised in a big noisy family that boasted the opposite philosophy. Mitch decided whatever the stalker’s motives were, he wanted to learn what the hell had turned her into such a loner.

As they drove back to her place in silence, he told himself to let it go. Except she wasn’t half the hard-nosed terror she thought she was or pretended to be. Under that tough-attorney exterior was a woman he wanted to get to know better.

A lot better.

Chapter 5

I
n the Marburg library, Julia rocked back in the task chair and stretched her arms over her head. She was exhausted. The words printed on the pages kept getting smaller and blurring into nonsense. A glance at the clock on the wall showed she’d been at it for over two hours since the last five-minute break she’d allowed herself.
Two full days in the library and only the rest of my life to go
, she thought bitterly. Precedents abounded for potential pretrial motions for the Falk case and her bosses expected her to present every possibility.

Seeking a respite, her thoughts drifted to Mitch. The way he’d infiltrated every corner of her personal space, it was tough not to think about him. He’d been camped out on her floor since that first night. Over the past days, she’d learned he could be awake and on full alert at the merest provocation, that he preferred free weights to machines at the gym and that he was itching to get back to the firehouse.

Mitch could cook, his coffee was better than hers, he rarely complained, he spoke fondly of his family and he maintained a solid, steady presence she often wanted to lean on. Having him around was simultaneously comforting and unsettling. She had to constantly remind herself it was temporary. Sticking with Grant’s orders, they followed her pre-stalker routine to the letter, even through the weekend. They’d worked out a method of sorts and a division of space that almost kept them from tripping over each other in her small apartment. In short, he was an exemplary roommate.

Why don’t you want to like me?
His question echoed in her head, all these days later. She was far too willing to like him. What didn’t make sense to her was his determination to like her. Most people didn’t like her unless she could help them somehow.

If she could put a stop to her hot, needy dreams about him, she might feel less edgy and more willing to count him as a potential long-term friend. Certain parts of her body protested the friend concept, but Mitch was a great guy who deserved better than to be saddled with a troubled defense attorney. The more time they spent together and the more he revealed about his life and values made her increasingly aware that their only common ground was their determination to advance within their respective careers.

Since Mitch had entered her life last week, she hadn’t heard a single demand out of her stalker. It would be easy, and naive, to think her personal bodyguard had scared him off, since the creep continued to block her attempts to regain control of her money. Her rent was due in a few days and she didn’t have enough cash on hand to cover it. She’d gone into the bank branch to make a withdrawal only to find her accounts depleted. Embarrassed and infuriated, if Mitch hadn’t been there she would have reached out to bargain with the stalker just to get it over with.

Her phone hummed in her pocket and she grinned at the midmorning check-in text from Mitch. She sent the all-clear reply and returned to the case work. While the computer databases set her in the right direction for her research, she always preferred to read directly from the source whenever possible. A habit from law school she hadn’t broken yet.

After making another page of notes, she pushed away from the big table to go find another cup of coffee. She’d nearly pitched her phone through the window when the alarm sounded this morning, having spent the night tossing and turning in her bed, wishing she was bold enough to invite the handsome fireman to join her under the covers.

The outrageous and inappropriate attraction was taking its toll. Day after day she tried to chalk it up to proximity and failed. He was in her life to protect her and she didn’t want to cross a line and make things uncomfortable...but then she’d catch him looking at her in a way that made her want to ask if she could climb all over that sculpted body.

Down, girl
, she scolded herself as she filled her coffee mug. Her mother used men, discarding them when she finished, and Julia had vowed not to follow that poor example.

If they made it through the rest of this week without any new threats or demands, she would assume this had all been an elaborate robbery and the stalker had succeeded. The financial blow was harsh but not impossible to overcome. Bolstered by the fresh jolt of caffeine, she returned to her research.

Her concentration was terrible today, flipping between the case, her unresolved predicament and Mitch. Why had she been targeted as a potential informant? No one in town really knew her. She enjoyed the ability to be her best self, without the clouds of her past hanging over her. The first time her personal and professional lives had intersected had been the day Mitch had shown up to take her to lunch and everyone assumed he was more than a new client.

Whatever had put this in motion, however it ended, she wanted to find a meaningful way to thank Mitch for his help. With a guilty glance around the library, she changed the target of her searches again. When her next alarm went off, Julia gathered her personal belongings, bookmarking her research to resume after lunch with Mitch in the park.

She stepped outside to find the day had turned cloudy. Mitch saw her and jogged up the sidewalk, a smile on his face that seemed to brighten the entire street. A woman could get used to the focus and attention Mitch applied to every task. That sexy smile haunted her dreams, creating delusions that a man as good and decent as Mitch would truly want her for more than a little temporary fun. His button-down shirt was open over a dark T-shirt tucked into his jeans, and her palms tingled at the thought of sliding her hands under that soft fabric.

“Any contact?” he asked, greeting her with his habitual warm hug. He’d overruled her protests, claiming a hug was the bare minimum affection allowed for a new couple.

“No.” She resisted the urge to cling as the masculine scent of his cologne surrounded her. Linking her hand with his as they strolled down the block, she refused to dwell on how natural it felt. She’d miss that when they went their separate ways. “I’m starting to think you scared him off.”

“Not a chance,” Mitch countered with a sly smile and a feisty glint in his brown eyes.

Her footsteps faltered, and he steadied her. “Did something happen?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got a feeling,” he said, pressing his free hand over his stomach. “I think he’s biding his time. Probably poking into me and why I’ve appeared in your life now.”

The idea made her queasy. “That’s ridiculous.” Bravado would have to carry her until they had hard evidence on a real lead. “He must have found someone more malleable.”

“Oh? Has he fixed the trouble he made with your finances?”

“No.” And she had no idea how she’d pay her rent on time. She could hardly ask for an advance on her salary without causing more problems. The embarrassment of asking her landlord for an extension would be torture, but it might be the best option. “If he doesn’t give me access to my money I won’t be able to pay my rent,” she confessed quietly. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do,” she murmured.

“Keep going through the motions,” Mitch replied.

She waited with him at the food truck and they walked together to their favorite bench. She pulled out the salad she’d packed at home while he doused the burrito he’d ordered with hot sauce. Normally she soaked up sunshine right here, refueling for the long afternoon and evening hours ahead. Today, low-hanging clouds gathered, underscoring the downturn her mood had taken.

“Does your lease allow you to sublet?”

“If I could, how would I find anyone in time?” She frowned at the salad in her bowl, poking through the greens. The conversation was ruining her appetite. “And why would I want to?”

“You’re worried about your credit and keeping up appearances, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She had enough to overcome at the firm, after throwing her reputation under the bus with the sudden appearance of a serious man in her life.

“You don’t want to take this to your bosses.”

“You know I
can’t
do that.” She glared at him. “Even without the now-silent stalker, I refuse to give them a reason to toss me off a career-boosting case or fire me. Either result is more likely than any show of compassion.”

“I’ve been giving this some thought. What if you sublet your apartment to my brother and move in at my place. He can cover the rent, my house gives us both more space to work, and—bonus—throws your stalker pal a serious curveball.”

The idea had merit. “You mean the stalker who’s gone silent?”

He shrugged, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

“Playing house at your place?”

“We’ve been doing it at your place,” he said. “Mine’s bigger.” His unrepentant grin put a flutter in her pulse. “Think about it.”

Oh, she was thinking about it, reveling for a moment in the sweetness of the offer. She’d never lived in a house, only run-down apartments and dorm rooms. Making that move would be using Mitch to test an experience she didn’t know she’d longed for. “Let’s give it to the end of the week? Maybe he’s been caught or really did give up on me when you showed up.” It was a weak argument and they both knew it.

He nodded thoughtfully while he finished chewing a bite of his sandwich. “You’re defeating your own argument,” he said once he’d swallowed.

“How so?”

“By definition stalkers are patient and thorough, even if your creep came out of the gate too fast. If you kick me to the curb he wins just by waiting you out. It sends the message that my presence was just a stunt.”

“It is,” she said, reminding herself as much as him. She didn’t like admitting it, didn’t like thinking of them as performers, but that’s what it came down to. She stabbed her fork through her salad. “You were assigned to be my buffer and all evidence proves you’ve been effective. I’d think you’d be happy to get your life back.”

His shoulders hitched as he laughed. “Spare me the legalese.” He balled up the burrito wrapper and stuffed it back into the paper bag. “Do you have your life back?”

“Not entirely.” She’d give that to the end of the week, as well. If the stalker hadn’t made another move, she’d file the fraud charges and a police report on the theft. It probably wouldn’t get her money back, but she’d feel better. She’d worked her tail off to create a career and financial stability and here she was, scraping by on the generosity of strangers, just like her mom always did.

“Then it is way too soon to back off now.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“Why are you so determined to keep this up? To stick with me?” She’d been told all her life how difficult she was to live with. How regimented, unwilling to cut anyone slack. Her mother had said it, her brother too before he’d moved out. Even her first two roommates in college complained about living with her.

He faced her, a wistful half smile on his lips. “You need me.”

Before she could respond, her phone screen lit up with a text message alert. Dread built in her throat when she recognized the number as her stalker’s. When he told her to save his number, she’d thought he was being cocky, yet so far he had successfully dodged the efforts to trace the phone. “It’s him.” Her voice cracked. Guess she wasn’t going to get a break and slip free of this jerk after all.

Mitch sat up casually, bumping her knee with his. “I’m scanning the park for any sign of him. You check the message.”

She could barely manage a nod of agreement as she swiped the screen.

Noticed you found yourself a boyfriend with money. Seems decent enough. Which means he can’t stop me.

A chill ran through her, raising the hair on the back of her neck. Keeping her voice low, she read the message to Mitch. “Should I reply?”

“Try asking for your money.”

She typed in the words before she lost her nerve.
Nice to hear from you. I want my money back today or I call the police.

No police, Julia. Your money is safe, even earning interest. Give me the names I need and it’s all yours.

“I can’t do that,” she whispered as she typed the same in reply.
Money first. If I’m evicted they’ll fire me.

Then you’ll have to cooperate with me. Remember who is in charge.

She showed the messages to Mitch. “I’m sorely tempted, but I don’t have what he wants. How is it this creep knows everything but that?”

“What are you doing?” Mitch asked when she started keying in a new message.

“Suggesting he torment someone in the prosecutor’s office. They know more about any plea deals Falk is planning than I ever will.”

*

Mitch watched Julia hit Send on the message before he could advise her to stop and think about it. He swallowed back the worry, scanning the crowd for anyone showing signs of aggravation. Preferably some aggravated person wearing a hockey team ball cap. He spotted more than one man with eyes on his phone fitting the general description. No way to round up all of them. What would it take to make the stalker flinch? “Let’s get you back to the office,” he said to Julia as he stood up.

He wanted her back behind the safety of Marburg’s granite walls and security systems.

Did her stalker have any idea how miserable Julia would be if anything happened to someone at the prosecutor’s office? He prayed the jerk hadn’t dug that deep into her past.

Over the past several days every conversation between them had shed a little more light on the real woman hiding behind the lawyer’s stoic face, classy wardrobe and mile-high defenses keeping the world far from her tender, battered heart. She’d be furious if she knew he’d decided to go back further, searching for any clue to her present trouble.

Her childhood had been less than ideal—a vast understatement—the things she must have seen and survived made his heart ache for that little girl with no control or guidance. She’d grown up in the Midwest and been between foster homes when her mom wasn’t considered a fit parent. He had yet to find any sign of her father. Despite the pile of disadvantages, Julia had single-handedly broken free and made her way through college and law school, landing at the top of the heap at Marburg.

For days he’d wanted to tell her how much her courage and grit impressed him. He wanted to hold her and make up for all the affection she’d missed growing up. Not yet. If he moved too soon, she’d boot him out of her life. Every day he told himself to wait a little longer, to wait until she made the first move.