A Twist of Betrayal (9 page)

“No.” She allowed herself to be pulled through the dark and up the few steps to the porch of the cabin.

A moment later, he had the front door open and he yanked her inside. Yet, she didn’t go blindly. She paid attention to the set up of the porch, the direction of the drive. She knew if she got the chance to escape later, she needed to know where things were, especially in the dark.

He turned on a battery powered camping lantern. Justine took in the large, open room that was the cabin. There was a cold fireplace that looked like it hadn’t seen heat in years. The few pieces of furniture—two futon looking couches and a table with two chairs—were covered with dust.

There were three other doors. Still holding her by the arm, he pulled open one of them. Justine stared into the darkness. It was perfectly black, there were no windows. The deduction hit her instantly. It was a small, dark, windowless room, little more than an empty closet, and he planned to put her in it.

Please, no, not into that endless darkness.

For the first time, Justine pulled against him. She couldn’t go in there. Fear of the dark went all the way back to her childhood, when her older brother locked her in the toy chest and refused to let her out.

“Don’t put me in there,” she said, not caring that she was begging. “Please, I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t put me in there.”

Despite her effort to pull away, he ignored her pleas. He used a key to unlock the handcuff that bound her wrists before he shoved her into the emptiness and slammed the door. She heard his muffled voice through the door. “Take a rest.”

For a long moment, Justine stood still. She couldn’t ‘take a rest’. Hell, she could barely breathe. She barely felt the tingling in her fingers. There was no air in the dark. Her heart beat painfully. Then, as if her mind shut down, and her body functions became automatic, she drew in a deep, ragged breath. Her knees finally gave out and she sank to the floor. She closed her eyes against the horrifying darkness. No sound came from her, but in her mind, she cried in agony and remembered the first time she had really needed Dan.

Chapter 9

Six Years Ago

“No further questions, Officer Franklin,” Justine said. She moved back to her seat after again twisting Dan’s words around in favor of the defendant.

Dan’s eyes shot sparks like raining gray mist at her, even from across the courtroom. She could tell he was angry. But in his eyes, she thought she saw a touch of something else—admiration. She was pretty proud of herself, too. Justine had a hard time keeping her mind on the case at hand and not the kiss from the night before. Just thinking about it caused her pulse to quicken and sent a delicious shiver up her back. Again. Still. But she’d been able to set the courtroom the way she wanted the case to be seen.

She should know better, she told herself. He was a cop, and cops didn’t always have good records when it came to long-term relationships. No matter what she’d told herself, she hadn’t been able to sleep, not at all. Instead she lay awake thinking about his kiss. Her lips still tingled in the aftermath.

What are you doing with a cop?
Along with the memory of his kiss, a little voice in the back of her mind had nagged her all night, too. She didn’t want to listen to that voice. While she would rather concentrate on the kiss, that voice remained, plaguing her with questions and things she didn’t care to think about.
He’s a cop. His job will worry you crazy. His hours are probably worse than yours. Look at the risks he has to take. Why can’t you find a businessman with straight nine to five dependable hours? Not to mention, he’ll want you to quit your job sooner or later—probably sooner. Especially since he’ll think he catches the bad guys and then because of you, they all go free.

But Justine didn’t want a businessman. Only Dan Franklin had ever made her feel fireworks when he kissed her. And she wanted fireworks.

The judge thanked Dan and dismissed him. Dan stepped down from the witness stand, and Justine couldn’t help but watch him as he moved past.

“Next witness.”

“The Defense rests,” Justine said. The trial wasn’t over yet, but she felt a tremendous weight lifted off her shoulders. She’d put up one heck of a fight with everything she had. The evidence the prosecution had was little more than circumstantial. Justine had a good chance of winning, she could taste it. Almost as well as she still tasted that kiss.

“We will recess until tomorrow,” the judge said, “at nine a.m. with closing arguments. Court is adjourned.” He struck his gavel and stood up.

The room began to clear, and Justine began to put her notes into her briefcase. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she knew from somewhere behind her, Dan Franklin watched her. It was as if some unseen electrical current connected the two of them. It was the idea of that current, the connection that held her thoughts, that kept her from seeing the defendant’s movement.

In a flash, the defendant who had just stood next to her shoved against the bailiff and snatched his gun from its holster.

The gun went off, sending a heart-stopping explosion echoing through the room. Chaos broke out instantly. Justine was hardly aware of the several screams from others behind her.

Frozen with terror and utter disbelief, she stared at the hole in Judge Sandors chair. If he’d still been sitting there, he would have been shot square in the chest. After that, Justine saw everything happen in a slow motion. She felt each beat of her own heart. The defendant—her client—still held the gun in his hand.

At the same time, Justine felt as if time stopped. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t drop to the floor in hopes of hiding behind her chair. She couldn’t believe this was happening. The case had been going well for her client.

Apparently, he had doubts. Or he was stupid. Or worse, he needed a drug fix.

She felt responsible for him, for his actions, yet she was unable to stop him now. There was so much chaos, she couldn’t focus. She felt detached, as she was watching a movie placed on fast forward, and she couldn’t keep up. Hell, she couldn’t even think enough to react. She remembered calling his name in an effort to stop him. But he turned and looked at her with murder in his hard gaze. She still couldn’t believe this was happening to
her.
He didn’t really point that gun at her. He didn’t really look at her with an expression that clearly said he had every intention of killing her.

Something hit Justine and knocked her right off of her feet. She smashed against the defendant’s table and fell to the floor, taking her briefcase with her and sending its contents all about. The collision knocked the wind from her lungs. Her hips hurt instantly, one from colliding with the edge of the table, the other on the hard wood of the floor.

Another explosion echoed off the walls.

Justine’s first thought was that she’d been shot. Probably in the chest by the way she couldn’t breathe. But then she forced in a much-needed breath, and realized the weight of whatever hit her covered her completely, making that breath hard to take.

The gray smoke of Dan’s gaze met hers, and the warmth of his body touched her everywhere. His now familiar scent filled her. In a single instant, heat mixed with security surrounded her.

Then suddenly that warmth and security was gone as he rolled off her. Still on the floor, Dan rolled into the legs of the defendant and knocked him off balance just enough that between Dan and the bailiff, they were able to maneuver the gun from his hand without sending any more shots through the room. By the time Justine was able to bring her breathing under control, without sounding like a panting race horse, Dan and the bailiff had the defendant face down on the floor. Dan held him in place as the bailiff slapped handcuffs on his wrists.

Yet, when Justine looked up at him, she found Dan’s gaze on her, not on the man he held in place. She stared into the smoke of his eyes, knowing if she could only get lost in there, she’d be safe and her racing heart would slow.

For a long moment, she didn’t move. Even when the room filled with several armed guards, all of whom wanted to escort the defendant back to his cell personally. She sat on the floor, not worried that her skirt had hiked up her thighs several inches, and watched the man she had worked so hard to defend be escorted away. She didn’t move until Dan took her arm and helped her to her feet.

“Are you all right, Counselor?”

Dan’s smooth, deep voice caressed her skin and mind, calming her instantly. And the way he said counselor—slowly, pronouncing each syllable—sent a tingle up her back as if he’d actually touched some secret place inside her. It was as if he’d kissed her again.

“Yes-yes, I think so,” she said. Did her voice sound as normal as she hoped, or could he hear her terror or her need to keep her words from trembling? Could he tell she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering? Could he tell that at any moment, her weak knees were bound to give out and she’d be back on her duff on the floor? Justine told herself to think again about the fire she saw in his eyes and the compassion of his words. Forget about the fact that she’d just come so close to death.

Dan still held her arm. “I’m sorry I had to knock you down.”

Justine tried to laugh, but all that came out was a broken, cackle sound. “That’s perfectly all right. You can knock me down any time you need to save my life.”

“You’re shaking,” he pointed out softly.

With the gentle way he still held her arm, he had to feel the fear quivering through her.

“Yes, well that’s the first time I’ve ever been threatened. I take that back,” she added suddenly with a forced smile. “When I was handling divorces, I once had a soon-to-be ex-spouse threaten me. But it was all verbal, he didn’t point a gun in my face or shoot at me.”

“How long have you been working as a public defender?” Dan asked.

He hadn’t asked many work related questions during their date the night before. Justine had the feeling he had done his best to separate business from pleasure. “This is my first case,” she replied. “Alone.”

His shock was evident in his eyes. “Really? After watching you yesterday and today, I would have thought you were an old pro at this.”

This time her smile wasn’t so forced. She liked the way he had the ability to put her at ease. “Well, I’m not, and I hope I never have to be a pro at reacting to having a gun in my face.”

“So do I, Counselor,” he said.

Her heart suddenly hammered against her chest again, as the huskiness of his voice sent a vibration right through her. She no longer questioned that he was a cop or why he’d come into her life. She was simply glad and thankful for it.

“It can be a scary thing,” he went on. “Why don’t I take you back to your office, or even home?”

Justine opened her mouth, but for a moment couldn’t think of the right reply. She felt as if her insides were still shaking apart with lingering terror. It was as if the fear of her life nearly ending had sent parts of herself into different directions, and she couldn’t seem to find all the pieces to pull herself back together.

Driving was probably not a good idea.

But she had her professional image to uphold. She had the case to think about. No, she didn’t, she assured herself. And it didn’t matter if she gave up the case, or not, she had the feeling the judge would take care of it for her.

Justine sighed. “I just don’t understand why he did it,” she said. “We were winning, didn’t he see that?”

“He probably needed a fix, and that’s all he saw.”

She looked around the emptying courtroom. There was a bullet hole in the judge’s chair and another one in what had been her chair. Well, she could kiss winning this case good-bye. Her defendant would be lucky if he even saw daylight for a while. All her work at defending him was for nothing. And what she needed was the warmth of someone who would know how she felt.

Dan.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked.

“I’m waiting for you to tell me you told me so.”

“I’m not going to tell you that, Counselor. You were doing your job, and a good one at that. He’s the idiot who screwed it all up for himself.”

“I suppose I should just be glad he didn’t kill anyone,” she said.

He grinned at her. “You could be his defense lawyer.”

She let out a chuckle and bit back on really laughing, fearful that once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

Then he grew serious. “I’m just glad he didn’t kill you. Now let me take you home.”

As a cop, Dan put his life on the line every day. If anyone understood what she needed, it had to be him, she told herself.

“What about my car?” she asked.

“I can bring you back for it later.”

“All right,” she agreed. “Can you take me right home? I don’t need anything from my office, and I really don’t want anyone there knowing how much this has shaken me up.”

He looked down into her eyes for a long moment. “Sure,” he replied.

He took her home, but Justine never remembered the ride or telling him where she lived. What she remembered was the way he held her hand. His touch brought comfort warmth. She suddenly found herself outside her apartment.

Justine laughed, her laughter filled with embarrassment. “I’m still shaking,” she pointed out as she held up her hands to show him.

Dan didn’t share her amusement. He took both her hands and gave them a warm squeeze. Then he got out and went around the front of the car. Justine wanted to climb out, too, but didn’t trust her legs. Dan opened the door for her and took her hand again to help her out.

She let him. “I thought I was stronger than this,” she said.

Dan looked deep into her eyes for a long moment. The cold winter air blew around them, but couldn’t seem to penetrate the warmth of his gaze. “It’s like shock. It’s just a delayed reaction to fear, and it doesn’t make you a weak person, Counselor,” he said.

“Yes, I know,” she agreed, even though she didn’t quite believe it. “But you can’t believe how hard I have to keep working not to lose my lunch.”

“Yes I can.” He let go of her hand, and put his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. “Come on. Let’s get you warm.”