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“That’s true. But if we didn’t think you had potential, the position wouldn’t be in the offing.”
“I know, and again I’m honored. But I have devoted my life to the practice of law and to this firm.” She didn’t add that she’d sacrificed a home and family for the firm, in order to reach this stage in her career.
The phone on Winston’s desk rang. When he reached for it, Hallie rose and signaled that she would see him later. He nodded.
Hallie headed straight for the ladies’ room, an added spring in her step. She was ecstatic and wanted to tell everyone about the sudden turn of events and her good fortune, but under the circumstances, that wouldn’t be wise. Anyway, she didn’t have a close friend and confidant in the firm. Since she was the only female in a good old boy’s network, she had to tread lightly.
Besides, she hadn’t gotten the partnership yet. She’d best remember that. After it became a reality, that was the time to celebrate.
On her climb up the partnership ladder, she had garnered more than her share of enemies—especially Nick Skinner. He seemed to want everything she wanted, whether he’d earned it or not. Nick would be a constant thorn in her side, if she allowed it. Unless they were forced to work together on a case, she ignored him, which unfortunately seemed to make matters worse.
Hallie could imagine his reaction when he heard the news. Some of her giddiness waned. Maybe he was also being considered as a shareholder. If so, that would make things more difficult for her. She fought constantly to prove that she was as good as any male attorney on staff. To her way of thinking, she’d met that goal. But again, that wasn’t her call.
Once in the ladies’ room, Hallie glanced in the mirror. She didn’t look any different, except that her translucent skin appeared more flushed than usual. And there was a gleam in her chocolate-colored eyes that heretofore hadn’t been there.
Indeed, things were looking up, and she couldn’t be more pleased.
That thought was very much on her mind as she walked into her scenic office.
“Hello, Hallie.”
She pulled up short and felt her stomach drop to her toes. “How did you get in here?” Hallie knew that was a foolish question and didn’t deserve an answer. Her secretary, Pearl, wouldn’t have any qualms about letting this particular man in.
“How are you?” His beautiful lips moved, but she barely realized he’d answered her with a question.
Since her throat was too tight to speak, she simply stared at her former fiancé. Jackson Cole was standing in front of the huge window that dominated her office. Every nerve in Hallie’s body kicked into overdrive.
His black hair was now flecked with gray, and his vivid blue eyes were deeper in color and more compelling than ever. To label him tall, dark and handsome sounded trite, but it fit. Add the word charming, and he was instantly upgraded into the unforgettable category.
She wanted to turn and bolt, but of course she didn’t. She dug her heels into the floor and her nails into the palms of her hands. Even the sensation of pain failed to draw her attention.
It hit Hallie like a blow that he still had the ability to push her sexual buttons like no other man. Another blow followed that one—Jackson Cole was the only man she had ever loved.
How could she ever have let him go?
Fearing she had already let him see how his unexpected presence had affected her, Hallie walked forward and smiled, but didn’t dare extend her hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt.” She ignored the fact that her voice had a slight huskiness. She hoped he would, too.
He nodded, then said in his deep, smooth voice, “Apology accepted.”
For a split second, silence fell between them. As their eyes met and held, the electricity bouncing between them made more noise than any conversation could have.
“I’m assuming you have a reason for being here,” she said, having regained most of her composure. At least that huskiness was gone.
“As good as it gets.”
Now that she was past the initial shock of seeing him, she noticed that he appeared a bit subdued, that his usual charm wasn’t in evidence. And his voice had a rough, almost sarcastic edge to it, not at all in character for him. Or it hadn’t been, she corrected mentally. People could do a lot of changing in two years.
“What’s wrong, Jackson?” she asked, fighting the desire to sink into the nearest chair. But as long as he stood, she would, too. She couldn’t allow him to get the upper hand in any way.
“I’m in trouble, Hallie—” He paused, his lips thinning.
Her gaze lingered on them for a moment before she forced her eyes back to his.
“Or at least, I think I am,” he added.
“Trouble, as in needing an attorney?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
Trying to pretend he was just another client off the street, and not someone with whom she’d been uninhibitedly intimate, was one of the hardest feats she’d ever had to pull off. “Suppose you sit down and tell me what’s going on.”
When they were both seated, he blurted out, “Roberta’s dead.”
Later, Hallie would realize he hadn’t even bothered to give Roberta’s last name, because he’d known it wasn’t necessary. “When did she die? How?” Shock forced her to clear her voice.
“She was found this morning in her hotel room. She was strangled. And I seem to be the prime suspect.” When she didn’t speak, he went on, “Don’t look at me like that, Hallie. Surely you know I had nothing to do with it. But that’s not what the police think. They’ve asked me to come in for questioning.”
Questions that she had no right to ask circled her brain like vultures over a dead animal’s carcass. When had Roberta Klein come back into his life? But she refrained from voicing that personal thought, aghast that Roberta was dead and that Jackson was considered involved.
“You came to the right place,” she said, clearing her throat again. “Nathan James is the best criminal defense attorney in Memphis, maybe in the entire South.”
Jackson rose abruptly to his feet and stared down at her from his six-feet-plus height. “I don’t want Nathan James or whatever the hell his name is.”
Hallie’s eyes widened as she peered up at him.
“I want you to represent me.”
This time Hallie rose, shaking her head. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t. You’ve done plenty of criminal work, and as I remember, you were damn good at it.”
“You’re missing the point. The past two years, I’ve focused on divorce law. That’s become my expertise.”
“Please, Hallie.”
Those softly spoken words, backed by emotion, tore at her. Still, she held on to her resolve. “Jackson, you don’t know what you’re asking. If you’re in the kind of trouble you think you are, I’m not the attorney you need.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Okay, let me put it this way. Regardless of whether I’m qualified or not, I wouldn’t feel comfortable representing you. I don’t know how to make it any plainer.”
His mouth worked and he stared deeply into her eyes. “Please,” he said again. “I trust you, and you have to help me.”
Hallie opened her mouth, but the words froze in her throat.
Three
But I don’t trust you.
Though Hallie wanted to utter those words, she couldn’t; they dried up in her throat. Still, she was angry that Jackson had so brazenly appeared in her office, opening old wounds with both his unsettling presence and his raw demand.
“Hallie?”
The unspoken plea in his voice refocused her mind. Yet she stopped short of giving him a definitive answer, even though she knew this situation was grave and could spell disaster for him.
“I need time, Jackson,” she stalled, which was not like her at all, and he knew it. She had always been admired for her ability to think quickly on her feet, in an unpleasant situation or otherwise.
Right now, however, she was having a difficult time even thinking, much less thinking rationally. Apparently Jackson wasn’t having any qualms, or he wouldn’t have approached her. Or else he was desperate. With that thought jumping to the forefront of her mind, Hallie lifted her slender shoulders as if preparing for battle.
“I need your answer now,” Jackson said before she could break the heavy silence.
Chocolate-brown eyes met blue ones, and for a moment, Hallie couldn’t find her next breath. Jackson must have experienced the same smothering reaction, for his features darkened even more and he shifted his gaze.
“Why are you a suspect, Jackson?”
He rubbed his chin, which was beginning to show a slight stubble, further enhancing his sex appeal. “I was with Roberta last night.” His voice was brusque.
Hallie didn’t know why that blunt admission still had the power to prick her heart, but it did. She should feel bitterness and contempt. Instead, her response was far more personal. Ignoring those thoughts, she said, “You need to be more specific. With her could mean a number of things.”
Jackson’s eyes were bleak. “It’s not what you think.”
“You have no idea what I think,” she countered with quiet dignity. She was determined to keep this conversation professional and impersonal, until she could convince him that Nathan was the lawyer who could best serve him.
“You hate me, don’t you,” he said out of the blue.
Her stomach dropped, but she didn’t let on that his tortured words got to her. “Of course I don’t hate you.”
She didn’t hate him, but she did hate every second of his presence and this conversation. She didn’t want to know why he had been with Roberta and what they did. Two years ago, that woman had been a bone of contention between them, and now she was again, even in death.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to make this personal.”
“About Roberta,” she pressed, ignoring his apology.
“She showed up at the club after a long absence. She was in a mess.”
“A mess, how?”
“A mental and emotional wreck.”
“And you felt sorry for her.” Hallie paused. “Again.”
“Okay, so I felt like I owed—” His jaw stiffened, cutting off his sentence.
“I know how you feel about that,” Hallie said, “so there’s no use repeating it.”
Jackson flushed but he didn’t comment. Instead, he said, “I took her to dinner to try and calm her down.”
“Seems like I’ve heard that before.”
This time, Jackson’s face drained of color. She had struck a nerve and it showed. Hallie reminded herself of the reason for her question. All she wanted was to get enough information from him to warrant calling the firm’s heaviest criminal gun. Nathan didn’t take kindly to having his time wasted. Perhaps Jackson wasn’t in as much trouble as he thought. Once she proved or disproved that, then she’d know where to go from there.
“Sorry, I was out of line.” Her tone was much huskier than she would’ve liked.
“In hindsight,” Jackson said, “I know that taking her out was not a smart move. After dinner, she seemed calmer, and I took her back to her hotel. That was the last time I saw her.”
Hallie remained silent, battling a dull roar in her head.
“You know me, Hallie. I could never have done such a heinous thing.” His eyes were dark and pleading.
“I know, Jackson. That’s why you’re still in my office.”
“But I want to explain about Roberta, especially if—”
She held up her hand, cutting him off again. “Your personal relationship with her is no longer my concern.” He was free to boff anyone he wanted, including Roberta Klein.
“It’s your concern if you’re going to represent me.”
“I haven’t said I’d represent you.”
They stared at each other hard and long.
“Please,” he said, stopping just short of begging.
She heard the break in his voice and it got to her. Again. Jackson might be many things—he was a liar, for sure—but a murderer, no. A man with such a capacity for giving and loving could never bring bodily harm to a woman. So did that mean her resolve to not get involved was weakening? Heaven help her if it was. But when he looked at her like that, she couldn’t deny him anything.
“Look, I’ll take over for now, but only if you agree to meet with Nathan.”
“Fine. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“I’m not finished yet. If it looks like there’s going to be a trial, Nathan will have to take my place in the pecking order.”
At the word trial, he blanched, then asked, “Why?”
“That’s the deal, Jackson. Take it or leave it. I’m not about to jeopardize your life by my lack of experience.”
“I’ll take it.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What choice do I have?” A tinge of bitterness had crept into his tone.
“Plenty. For starters, you can go to another firm.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Hallie Hunter.” He paused, sighing deeply, though his features seemed to have become less gaunt since he’d won the first round.
“I told Detective Gomez I’d avail myself for questioning.”
“Are you talking about today? Now?”
Jackson grimaced. “I’d like to get it over with—if you can spare the time, that is.”
She couldn’t, but she would just have to make the time. He was right; to postpone the trek to the police station wouldn’t make it any less palatable for either of them.
“What’s this detective like?” she asked, unfamiliar with Gomez.
“He’s cocky and self-assured.”
During her court appointments on criminal cases, she’d gotten to know many of the ranking detectives and for the most part had developed a good rapport with them. But since she’d been out of the criminal loop for a while, she’d lost her contacts. This Gomez must be a new kid on the block or a transfer.
“Then, we’ll just have to un-cock him,” she said with her usual self-assurance.
For the first time since she’d walked into the room, Jackson smiled. The change was as sudden as it was shocking. Her breath caught as the flush of unwanted heat swept through her.
If he noticed her reaction, he didn’t show it, for which she was most grateful. “Are you ready?” she asked in as normal a voice as she could muster.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Hallie paused at the door and looked up at him. “Let me handle things. Until I know what Gomez has, we’ll play our cards close to our chest.”
“I’ll do whatever you say.”
Swallowing a sigh, Hallie squared her shoulders and walked out of the room, fully conscious of Jackson matching her step for step. As long as her commitment wasn’t set in stone, what she was about to undertake would be tolerable. Otherwise…
Hallie shook that thought aside as they left the building and headed for his BMW, hoping for the best and fearing the worst.
“Thanks for coming in so soon, Mr. Cole.”
“No problem.”
Detective Gomez turned to Hallie and extended his hand. After introductions were completed, Hallie decided Jackson’s opinion of the detective was right on target. Cocky. Young. And good-looking.
Gomez smiled at Hallie—a smile that rubbed her the wrong way, maybe because it was as smug as it was suggestive.
“I’ve heard of your firm.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hallie said in a cool tone.
He seemed to think for a second, then his smile disappeared. “No need to be defensive. Some of my friends are defense attorneys. Like Ernie Sanders, for example.”
“Mr. Sanders must not have been that good a friend, Mr. Gomez,” Hallie replied, “or you’d know he died last month.”
“Oh, that’s when he became my best friend, ma’am.”
Hallie stiffened at the direct slam, but before she could make a suitable comeback, Gomez seemed to remember his manners.
“Please, have a seat, both of you. Then perhaps we can get this matter cleared up quickly.”
Once they were seated in his shoebox of an office, he asked, “Can I get you something to drink? Some coffee? Or a Coke?”
Their “no, thank you” came simultaneously.
Gomez shrugged, then helped himself to a cup of coffee. He seemed in no hurry to bring this session to an end, despite his claim to the contrary.
Hallie could feel Jackson’s unrest. He appeared coiled and ready to spring. It was going to be an effort for him to keep his mouth shut and let her do the talking. She sensed right off that the detective and Jackson would tangle if there was no one to referee.
She would have to keep Jackson on a short leash; words said in frustration in a detective’s office had a way of taking on more meaning in the courtroom, and she did not want her client hanging himself because he got angry.
Silence. Two, then three minutes, without a word. Gomez sat across the desk from them, sipping coffee and watching Jackson. When he finally spoke, it jolted Hallie out of her reverie.
“So, were you sleeping with the dead woman, Mr. Cole?”
“No, I was not. And I didn’t kill her, either.”
More silence. Although Hallie didn’t want to look at Jackson, didn’t want to see his face, she had no choice. This was a murder investigation, and no matter how difficult this line of questioning was for her personally, she couldn’t back down. Better to get the ugly question out in the open early.
Jackson’s face had darkened, and he muttered an obscenity. Hallie reached out and placed a hand on his arm. It was hard and rigid, but her touch seemed to calm him immediately.
Another minute passed before Gomez spoke again. “So, tell me about Roberta Klein, Mr. Jackson.”
Jackson looked at Hallie and she gave him a nod, indicating that he was free to answer.
“We are…were…lifelong friends,” Jackson said.
“Then, you saw her often?”
“Not really, at least not in the last year.”
“Oh? Lover’s spat, and she moved out?”
Hallie spoke up. “I think my client has answered that already, Detective. He told you they were not…intimate.”
“For one thing, she didn’t live in Memphis,” Jackson said. “As you know.”
“So she just showed up on your doorstep like some baby wrapped in a blanket, so to speak?” Gomez made no effort to hide his smirk.
Jackson nodded. “That’s exactly what she did.”
“Was she in the habit of doing that? Just showing up at any old time she pleased?”
“In the past, yes.”
“So she felt comfortable—completely at ease—just dropping by out of the blue?”
“One has to assume so.”
“We’re discussing you, Cole.” Gomez’s tone was sharp. “Did she assume so, too?”
“What’s your question, Detective?” Hallie asked in a cold, firm voice, her patience wearing thin.
As if he sensed that, Gomez said, “I understand you took her home.”
“That’s right. I dropped her off rather early, then I left.”
“How was she?” Gomez paused. “When you left.”
Jackson ignored the rich sarcasm in the detective’s voice and asked, “What do you mean?”
Another smirk at the double entendre. “Had she been drinking?”
“A little. Some.”
“Did anything…unusual happen?”
“No,” Jackson said.
More silence. Hallie sensed Jackson’s desire to fill the time with words, but when she laid her hand on his arm a second time, he remained quiet. After two minutes, Gomez got up and poured himself another cup of coffee, his eyes still on Jackson.
Finally, he sat back down, took a slurping sip and set the cup down. “Are you sure, Cole, that the two of you weren’t making it? Doin’ the deed? Wrinklin’ the sheets? Swappin’—”
“Enough, Detective,” Hallie said, already on her feet. “We’re out of here this minute.” She knew a fishing expedition when she heard one. “Do you have any evidence against my client, Gomez? It’s neither a crime nor a sin to be the last person to see someone alive.”
“But I’m not through questioning Mr. Cole.”
“Yes, you are. If you intend to scrape a case together, Gomez, you’ll have to do it without our help.”
Gomez’s already dark features darkened further as he focused his attention on Jackson, who was standing so close to Hallie that she could hear his labored breathing.
“I was hoping for more cooperation from you, Mr. Cole.”
“He’s been more than cooperative, Detective. You chose the low road, but we’re not taking it. If you want to see Mr. Cole again, bring some evidence—a warrant. And just for the record, he will answer no more questions for you.”
“Oh, I’ll bring my warrant, all right, Ms. Hunter. But all in good time. There’s no statute of limitations on murder.”
Hallie fastened the middle button of the jacket of her pants outfit. “You have your job, Detective. Go to it. Mine is to see that you don’t violate my client’s rights, and I take that just as seriously as you do.”
“No doubt the three of us will meet again,” Gomez said.
“Possibly, but there won’t be any questions the next time.”
“So you’re absolutely refusing to allow Mr. Cole to talk to me again?”
“I never say never, Detective,” Hallie said. “If you brought a fresh attitude and a smattering of knowledge about the Bill of Rights to our next session, I might reconsider.” Then, turning to Jackson, she added, “Are you ready?”
Together they left the building. Outside, the late afternoon air had turned chilly, but it was a lovely evening. A perfect night to spend with a lover next to a smoldering fire sipping on a glass of wine, Hallie thought.
Although mortified at the sudden image, Hallie knew the reason for it. Jackson. He had awakened old and buried yearnings. During the time they were engaged, they had done that very thing more times than she could count. The result had always been a sweet but fiery tumble between the sheets.
“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” he commented in a husky voice.
“I wouldn’t know,” she snapped.
“Hallie?”
“What?”
Jackson’s eyebrows rose. “Why are you angry at me? Did I say something wrong in there?”
“No. It’s just been a long day and I’m tired.”
His lips thinned.
“Be in my office first thing tomorrow morning,” she said. “I want you to meet Nathan.”
“Then, you’re not interested in joining me for a cup of coffee?”
She faced him then and their eyes met. Tension, hot and heavy, leapt between them. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”
His sigh was deep and ragged. “You’re probably right. It isn’t.”
“Just take me back to my car. Please.”
Four
Jackson parked at the rear of the club and slipped in through his private back entrance. He didn’t want to see or talk to anyone—which was not his usual modus operandi.
As much as he trusted and looked to Terrance for help and guidance, Elan was his baby and he made it a point to be hands-on. Usually a mere stroll through the premises was exactly what he needed to make it through his long days. However, he had started cutting back on the hours he spent at the club, determined to finally get a “normal” life. But the transition was difficult, if not impossible, especially of late.
Since his breakup with Hallie two years ago, he had gone through the motions of living—feeling nothing, touching nothing. That way he’d been off the hook emotionally, which had been the only way he could hold body and soul together.
And his strategy had worked, enabling him to awaken each morning without that burning pain in his heart. But then things started to backfire, and once again his life seemed to change faster than a crashing stack of dominoes.
Jackson walked to the bar in his office and helped himself to a drink. It didn’t help, so he set the empty glass down and went to his desk. But sitting wasn’t the answer, either. He felt like ants were crawling through his insides; he walked to the window and stared outside.
The evening, like the day, was magical. The trees, swayed by the brisk wind, sent their multicolored leaves cascading to the ground. He watched the soothing sight for a moment, then turned around. He should call Terrance and let him know he was back. He owed it to his assistant to inform him of what had transpired at the police station, but he wasn’t ready. He needed more time alone to get his jumbled thoughts in some kind of logical order.