Full On (11 page)

Hearing Estavarez had been found dangling from a mesquite
tree whipped to death was bad enough, but learning Russell had been arrested
for his murder? Insane and unacceptable bullshit. Russell’s call came on the
heels of her dealing with Mrs. Estavarez’s uncontrollable grief. Valerie had
felt helpless enough with that, now this.

No, not helpless. Pissed. This she could handle. Russell had
the perfect alibi—her. His lover and now his attorney. She smoothed her hair
into a slick twist, selected her no-nonsense navy-blue skirt with white silk
blouse, stabbed her feet into don’t-fuck-with-me heels and tore out of the
house. Her stomach churned more with every mile she put behind her. The scone
and coffee hadn’t settled well with all the turmoil.

She tapped the Bluetooth in her ear to call Casey. Still no
answer. At least someone knew how to turn off their phone on a Sunday. Lesson
learned. She left another voice mail and ordered herself to be patient, when
she was anything but. If she’d gone with Russell to his house, he wouldn’t be
behind bars now. What the hell could they have on him that would make them jump
to a ridiculous conclusion of murder? Irrelevant. She’d have him free in no
time.

Already reporters had gathered in front of the police
station. Nothing was sacred anymore. Information got out there the instant it
happened. The news hungry swooped in to feast. They’d been having a banquet the
last couple of days. It was only going to get worse. With Russell’s freedom
would come public word of their relationship. It wasn’t going to be pretty.
That was fine. She and Russell could handle whatever came their way.

She parked close to the door so reporters would have no
trouble seeing her. Briefcase in hand, she braced herself to walk the gantlet
and suddenly found Phil Wrightman at her side. He’d appeared out of nowhere.
She’d been too wrapped up in her thoughts to see him and hiding her surprise
took more effort than she could muster. Neither spoke. They walked in tandem,
ignoring questions flung their way. Once in the false sanctuary of the station,
he cupped her elbow and steered her toward the interview rooms in the back.

Valerie slid her briefcase onto the table when they were
finally behind closed doors, then turned to face him. “Why are you here, Phil?”

He dragged a chair from the table to sit. “I’m here because
you are. My sources told me Cambridge called for you.”

His sources again. With his contacts, it was a wonder he
hadn’t aspired to higher office. “He did.” No sense denying it. “He’s entitled
to a defense.”

“That’s why I’m here. Surely you can see the conflict of
interest. I won’t have you compromised.” He tucked his arms across his chest,
daring her to argue.

Valerie slid into the opposite seat. “You mean you won’t
have the office compromised.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “By your own words you two are a
couple. You exercised caution to maintain a distance during the Estavarez trial
to avoid a conflict of interest. You should do so now. Besides…” He leaned
forward, claiming her space with the bulk of his shoulders. “I still think this
is a crap move on his part, Valerie. I don’t trust him. The man is out for
blood and he’s taking you down with him.”

“These are bogus charges, Phil. There’s no way Russell
killed Estavarez. He was with me all night from nine to nine.”

“And before that?”

“He spent the day driving Estavarez to a safe house Casey
Sullivan provided. We were all concerned for his safety and welfare. His mother
can verify that since she followed him there against orders. She can verify
when Russell left since she was hiding until he did so.”

He splayed his fingers, ducked his head like he always did
when he was trying to reason with someone and wanted his way. “He was gagged.
He was left there to bleed out. How long does it take to whip a person to get
him to that point? Rigor had just started to set in. How long did he hang
there? Was Russell with you all night? How sound a sleeper are you? He never
budged? Valerie…Russell Cambridge is using you for his own agenda.”

Tears burned her eyes. She ordered them away. “No.”

He eased away, gaze honed and locked on hers. “The bloody
whip was in his house. Also found was a bloody cane.”

The one used to beat Bev?

“And an unregistered handgun similar to the caliber used to
shoot Detective O’Connell yesterday morning when he was jogging. He’s in
critical condition.”

“And I suppose there are no witnesses.”

Phil slowly shook his head. “Walk away, Valerie. I promise
I’ll defend him to the utmost of my abilities.”

“He’s being framed.” Wasn’t that clear? Why would someone as
meticulous as Russell leave evidence lying around?

“He’s settling a score. You, his woman, beat an unbeatable
attorney in court. Detectives he trusted gave him shit to work with. The man
responsible for all this was back on the street. And now comes word the DA’s
looking to hire you. He’s going down, but he’s taking you with him. I can’t let
that happen. You’re too good an attorney to suffer for his ego.”

She’d heard enough. “How in the world can you possibly
defend him? You’ve already judged him guilty. I know he’s not and I intend to
prove it.” Valerie’s chair legs squealed against the floor as she stood. “If
you’ll excuse me, I have a client.”

“If you go against my orders, I’ll have no choice but to—”

“Fire me?” She laughed. “Apparently I have another offer
waiting in the wings.” She skidded her briefcase from the table, returned to
the front desk and wasted no time on preliminaries. “I’m Valerie Oswald,
attorney for Russell Cambridge.”

“I’ll have him brought to Interview 3 for you.” The female
officer jerked her head toward the hallway. “Back the way you came, ma’am.”
Valerie had taken no more than three steps when the woman added, “Sean
O’Connell is a good friend of mine. Don’t appreciate him being shot in streets
like a rabid dog.”

Valerie couldn’t leave it alone. Facing the woman, she added
a barb of her own. “Then hopefully with due diligence your detectives can find
the real culprit responsible. Though with hotheads due diligence seems to be a
little much to ask of late.”

She did a crisp pivot and walked away, passing Phil without
acknowledging him as she went to the assigned interview room. Thanks to him,
she now knew more about the evidence against Russell, and she couldn’t help but
wonder if that was Phil’s intent in the first place. Then his other words
filtered through, sowing doubt, making her wonder.

No, Russell wouldn’t do this. She shook her head. If anyone
was trying to drag her down it was Phil, or the son of a bitch really
responsible for all this.
Phil?
He did seem invested in all this. But he
had nothing at stake, so it made no sense. Who else might have a stick up their
ass and enough clout to go after everyone with this much force? Dave Deacon?
He’d lost face too, not good with an election coming up next year. He might
even consider she and Russell had made a fool of his office by their affair.

She tried Casey again. Again no answer. A muttered curse
preceded yet another voice mail. Then the door opened. Her heart twisted,
seeing Russell handcuffed. His guard fairly pushed him inside the room and
slammed the door behind him. She stomped toward it.

“I’ll get those cuffs off you.”

Russell blocked her path. “Let it go, honey. We need to pick
our battles. Alibi me and it’s over.”

“I wish it were that simple.” She dragged the chairs side by
side. “Sit. Here’s what I’ve learned.”

Despair weighed his shoulders down farther and farther with
each tidbit of information she shared. Her heart broke for him. Sadly, Phil was
right. She was too close. Her emotions were involved, more so than when they
faced off in court. There was no objectivity.

“Phil’s offered to take your case. In effect, ordered me to
stand down.”

Russell shook his head. “No. I want you.” He sagged a little
more with the words. He knew the futility of her representing him. “Get Casey.”

“I’ve been trying to reach her all morning. No answer. I’ve
left messages.”

“Leave another. At this point she’s the only one I’d trust.”

She brushed her hand over his back. “I can’t take this case,
Russell. We both know that. But if I walk out that door without trying to alibi
for you it won’t look good. You’re going up against your own people. You know
what they make of that action. I say we play this out as expected. We might
glean more information that will help Casey defend you.”

“Let’s do it then. Get it over with. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

They weren’t. Detectives tore apart Valerie’s alibi using
the same arguments Phil had thrown her way. The evidence found in Russell’s
home was circumstantial but damning. The fact someone had busted through the
back patio sliding glass door was considered smoke and mirrors on his part. Her
frustration built to the point she couldn’t think straight. This was her man
they were tearing apart. But she wasn’t down yet.

“Don’t you think it odd he’d have all this laying about his
house?” She didn’t give them time to respond. “A whip that could have easily
been tossed into the desert. A gun brought home when there are hundreds of
Dumpsters around, or again the desert as a disposal site since that’s where
Estavarez was found. Estavarez was accounted for by his mother after my client
left. Unless he has transporter technology, I highly doubt Mr. Cambridge could
have yet another round trip without my knowing it.”

“It’s not uncommon for a woman to cover for her man,”
Detective Somers replied. He’d been around for a long time and could
investigate rings around lackadaisical cops like Jacks and O’Connell. Why
couldn’t he see through all this?

“I’m personally insulted, Detective.” She used the coldest
tone in her repertoire, which wasn’t hard to do.

“As am I.” Casey Sullivan stood in the doorway. “This ends
now. I can personally vouch for Mr. Cambridge’s whereabouts last night. Not
only did I speak with the deceased after Mr. Cambridge returned from his trip,
I also know he didn’t leave Ms. Oswald’s home until nine this morning.”

Somers turned ice-blue eyes her way. “You sat outside all
night?”

“No, a member of my security team did so. I was as concerned
for their welfare as that of Mr. Estavarez.”

“How unfortunate you didn’t assign someone to watch
him
.
He might still be alive.”

“Not that any of your officers would care,” Russell piped
in. “Sergeant Bertram took great delight in knowing he was dead. Ms. Sullivan,
Ms. Oswald and I trusted the sanctity of the safe house and his family’s word
they wouldn’t follow. They’re the ones who put him at risk.”

Valerie placed her hand on his arm—a silent warning to
remain silent.

Somers slumped in his chair. “And how do you explain the
attempt on O’Connell’s life and the weapon found in Mr. Cambridge’s house?”

“The same way we explain the whip. They were planted.”
Valerie stood. They’d won. “Release my client.”

“Now,” Casey added.

Somers wasn’t happy about it but he had little choice. They
had proof of Russell’s innocence. He called for an officer to uncuff him. To
Russell’s credit he didn’t rub his wrists once they were free. He didn’t stare
Somers down. He acted as if it were a minor inconvenience. The guarded look in
his eyes said differently. Valerie recognized it well.

“You can get your things out front.” Somers led the way.

“I’m going to need to get some things from my house,”
Russell said to his back. “I also want to make sure nothing was stolen.”

“I’ll arrange it,” Somers replied, then deserted them in
reception.

Valerie wasn’t surprised to find Phil waiting. It was Dave
Deacon’s presence she found curious.

“We all good?” they asked together.

“We are,” the three of them responded.

Both Phil and Dave gave a nod and left.

Processing out took an hour. Punishment for Team Cambridge
being right and the cops wrong…again. By the time they walked outside, not one
reporter was in sight.

“Looks like Phil and Dave may have done something right
after all,” Casey said. “Anyone up for lunch? My treat.”

“I want to get to my house.” Russell scrolled through his
phone, then stuffed it in his jeans pocket.

“Then let’s go.” Valerie hooked his elbow. “Thanks, Casey.
We owe you. We’ll talk later.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast.” Casey’s long strides put
her easily in step with them. “I’ll take Russell by the house. He needs an
impartial witness to anything he finds.”

Valerie hated that she was right, even while she blessed
Casey’s forethought. “I’ll follow and stay in the car. That way he and I can
head home from there.”

“Go home, Valerie.” Casey’s gentle touch to her shoulder
softened the order. “I’ll bring him home, then together maybe we can try to
figure out what the hell’s going on.”

Wasn’t it clear? Someone was trying to bring down anyone and
everyone involved in the Estavarez trial.

Russell hated every blessed second of this. He wanted
Valerie with him, not driving off in the opposite direction. He needed to wrap
himself around her and hold on for dear life. God…she’d stood by him.

He closed his eyes against a rush of tears, then opened them
to stare out the window as Casey zipped through town. The last thing he needed
was for her to see him break down. He’d never felt more vulnerable, despite the
bad-ass façade for the rest of the world. The minute those cuffs closed over
his wrists he felt real hate. It was hard not to consider the whole setup a
vendetta against him perpetrated by the police. They’d been at odds since the
beginning over the Estavarez case. His stand the other night only made things
worse. He wouldn’t put it past one of them—Jacks, most likely—to have followed
Mrs. Estavarez to her son and killed the kid himself. Framing Russell would
have been the icing on the cake. Where the attack on Bev and Detective
O’Connell fit it, he didn’t know.

“Don’t worry. Valerie will be safe,” Casey said. “I have a
man on her.”

“I do hope you mean that figuratively.” A little humor never
hurt. It didn’t help either.

Casey snickered. “Jealous and possessive. Interesting.”

“I love her, Casey. We love each other.”

“I know,” she quietly replied.

Russell knew it too. Really knew it. His worst fear had been
that Valerie wouldn’t come to the station, that she would buy in to the trap
encircling him. She hadn’t. She’d dug in there and fought. He wanted to hold
her close and never let go.

“I can hear the wheels turning in your head. What’s on your
mind?”

Marrying Valerie.
Not something Casey needed to know.
“Trying to shove all the pieces together and figure out the puzzle.”

“That makes two of us. With the exception of Bev, everyone
else attacked is associated with Estavarez. That would make Bev’s assault
unrelated.”

“Except for that cane found in my house.” It was too much of
a coincidence not to be connected to her. Although it could have been used on
Teri Trent. “Bev’s connection is through Teri Trent.” A loose connection to
Estavarez but one nonetheless.

Casey blew out a breath. “Bev does know more than she’s
telling.”

He shifted around. “We pull that thread and this whole thing
might unravel.”

She flexed her fingers around the wheel. “Do you suppose she
knows who the real rapist is?”

No matter how diligently Bev protected her clients’ privacy,
Russell couldn’t see her knowingly allowing someone to get away with that.
She’d take action. “I don’t think she did before, but she sure might now.”

“Getting her to talk is impossible. I’ve tried.” She slowly
shook her head.

“Two people are dead. A detective is in critical condition.
She was beaten nearly to death. Now I’ve been targeted. I know Bev. She won’t
stand for that.” Was Valerie next? Casey? Dave, Phil, even Jacks? “The man you
have watching Valerie is good?”

“He hasn’t left her side, has substantial weapons training,
and is well-versed in martial arts. He’s good.”

Relief seeped through his body. The sight of his house ahead
brought tension rushing back in. “They impounded my car.” Bastards.

“So it seems. How kind of them not to tell us.” Sarcasm
dripped like acid from her lips. “I’ll make some calls while you gather your
things.”

A patrol car waited at the curb. At least something had gone
right. Too bad the officer waiting was Sergeant Bertram.

“I’ll do all the talking,” Casey said as she pulled into the
driveway.

Bertram exited his vehicle and strolled their way. “I’m to
follow you through the house.”

“Understood.” She swung open the door and blocked his view
of Russell. “Keep a respectful distance.”

“Yes ma’am.” He tapped his fingers against his forehead in
mock salute, then let Russell lead the way inside.

The sight of his ransacked house was no better this time
around. In fact, it was worse with fingerprint dust all over the damn place.
Russell picked his way through the mess. He had his priorities. The rest could
wait. Bertram and Casey were close behind. Already she was on the phone.
Russell designated her conversation background noise. He was focused on one
thing alone.

The snaked trail of blood leading to his bedroom made that
nearly impossible. It was forever burned into the cream-colored carpet. He’d
never be able to live here again. If all went the way his heart wanted, he
wouldn’t have to.

He closed his mind to the chaos and walked straight to his
bureau. His underwear drawer, specifically. Not the best hiding place for
something so precious. But then, he hadn’t expected
this
. He yanked the
drawer open, shoved his hand deep and nearly wept with relief when his fingers
closed over the blue velvet box. He drew it forward.

Bertram’s hand clamped over his wrist. Too late Russell
realized how his action looked.

“Release him,” Casey shouted.

“And let him shoot me?” Bertram snapped back.

Russell relaxed his fingers. “It’s not a weapon. See for
yourself.” The thought of this man touching something so pure filled his
stomach with bile. Finding himself facedown and cuffed would have been worse.

He stepped aside for Bertram, who wasted little time digging
in. The expression on his face shifted to neutral when he realized what he
found. He pulled away empty-handed. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“No worries.” Russell retrieved the box, took a breath and
opened it. The round white diamond solitaire winked up at him, perfect and
unsullied in its platinum setting.

“Beautiful,” Bertram said. “A thief would have taken a
sparkler like that. Must have set you back a pretty penny.”

Russell merely shrugged. Valerie was worth every cent and
more. Bertram didn’t need to know that. He shoved the ring box in his pocket,
pulled a suitcase from his closet and packed as much as he could get inside.
God only knew how long it would take for a cleanup crew to get inside. He
didn’t want to have to come back until this place was pristine.

Bertram watched his every move. Casey watched Bertram. In
less than fifteen minutes, Russell was ready to go. He locked the door behind
him. Bertram resealed the crime tape and they all returned to their respective
vehicles.

Russell tossed his bag in Casey’s open trunk. “Let’s go get
my car.”

“They don’t have it. They never impounded it.”

“So you’re telling me someone stole my car?” He slammed the
lid shut. “Fucking great.”

“Bertram hasn’t left yet. You want to make a report?”

“Do I have a choice?” He jerked around and strode toward the
patrol car.

“Calmly, Russell,” Casey called out. He waved her off but
eased his approach.

Bertram was professional about taking the report. Russell
gave him kudos for that. With luck they’d find it all in one piece soon. He
didn’t hold his breath on that one.

“All settled?” Casey asked when he slipped into the passenger
seat.

“More or less. I didn’t have the chance to lock my car
before I was hauled away. Open invitation. Insurance will have a field day over
this.”

“Tell me about it. Maybe a good attorney can help.”

“Ha-ha. Let’s get to Valerie’s.”

“Not there.” She held up her phone. “She couldn’t reach you
so she called me. Mrs. Estavarez is home. She’s gone over there to console
her.”

He dug his phone from his pocket. Dead. And his charger was
in his car. Of course. “You tell Valerie about…anything?”

“Only that we were done and headed her way. I’ll leave the
rest to you. Might be a good time for us to corner Bev.”

“Excellent.” He was in the perfect mood to extract
information from her. They
would
get to the bottom of this today.

* * * * *

The grief was more than any family should have to bear. But
for a family as close-knit as the Estavarezes, it was…

Valerie didn’t have a word to describe it. She’d overstepped
her bounds and role as public defender by being here. There wasn’t anything she
could do to help the family, except console, offer a few suggestions, give
comforting arms and a shoulder to cry on and listen. It tore her heart in two
and made her want to call her family. Made her want to cling to Russell and
never let go. All the issues the two of them had dealt with of late were petty
compared to this. She couldn’t imagine living in a world where he didn’t exist.
She didn’t want to imagine it.

So she listened, hugged, drank tea, helped sort through the
casseroles pouring through the door. She stood guard over Mrs. Estavarez when
Detective Somers came by for information, of which she had none. Estavarez was
there when she went to bed and gone when she woke up. She’d searched around the
house inside and out, didn’t find him and didn’t look any farther.
“I’m an
old woman, Detective.”

Casey’s desert home sat on ten acres of land on the edge of
an oasis. Valerie wouldn’t have had a lot of stamina, but she would have combed
every inch if someone she loved needed help. Mrs. Estavarez played the “old
woman” card when it was to her benefit. Valerie had seen her take down those
under her big and small. A look, the tone in her voice, a pinch, or a cuff to
the ear. All obeyed her. She ruled that family with an iron fist. She wasn’t
too old to chase off after her son. Valerie had once seen her take a switch to
her oldest—a burly man of twenty-seven—when she caught him smoking a joint out
back. The guy just stood there and took it.

A chill rippled down Valerie’s back. What would the woman do
if her son was a rapist? She dismissed the notion. He never would have made it
to trial. Unless she hoped jail would teach him a good lesson. And here Valerie
had gotten him off. That couldn’t have set well.

Doubt, god how she hated it. All the self-confidence she’d
displayed during the trial was gone. Murder had a tendency to make a person
second-guess herself. A woman like Mrs. Estavarez might not have the financial
resources to pull off all this, but she certainly had the manpower. Family and
friends swarmed around her to offer their sympathies. Valerie studied the
throng while Somers finished up. She wasn’t going to be far behind him. When he
stood, she moved in to say goodbye. Mrs. Estavarez kissed her hand, pressed her
wet cheek to it and blessed her over and over. Now Valerie felt guilty on top
of the doubt. She pushed through to the door, wondering how she could suspect
such a sweet soul. Until one face in the crowd brought all her sympathies
screeching to a halt. Estelita, Bev’s housekeeper.

The woman’s eyes went wide at the sight of Valerie mere feet
away. It was probably a good reflection of how Valerie looked. Confronting her
was out of the question. Her presence could mean nothing…or everything. She
squeezed through to the door, hoping to catch Somers. All she saw was his
taillights as he braked to turn the corner. What could she tell him? Bev hadn’t
reported the assault. Considering Mrs. Estavarez’s wide connections, Estelita’s
appearance was nothing more than a coincidence.

She’d wait until Russell and Casey came back. Surely Bev
would have provided them with some information. They could sort it out then.
She’d bide her time putting a nice dinner together. Though how she’d be able to
eat a bite was questionable. Still, it would be busy work, something to keep
her mind occupied while she waited. Nothing wrong with leftovers.

A glance in her rearview mirror revealed her guardian still
tailed her. He was more in the open about it now that Casey had told her to
expect his presence. They could have saved gas and driven together. It would
have made her feel safer. Until Russell and Casey returned, she wanted him by
her side rather than lurking in the shadows.

He parked across the street when she pulled into her
driveway and monitored her approach from behind dark sunglasses. “Problem,
ma’am?”

“It’s too hot out here. Come inside.”

His sigh signaled relief but his smile said it better.
“Thanks, ma’am. I appreciate it. Name’s Dan.”

“Then come on, Dan. I have a glass of iced tea with your
name all over it.”

He locked up and followed her inside. Once the cool air hit
him, he plucked at his sweat-soaked black t-shirt.

“Bathroom’s that way,” she pointed in that direction. He
wasted no time heading for it.

Valerie barely reached the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

“Look out the window first,” Dan called out.

“Always do.” She grabbed a large paring knife from the block
on the counter and returned to the living room. Peeling the drape to one side,
she peeked out. No one stood at the door, but Russell’s car sat in the
driveway. Now that put a smile on her face.

“It’s Russell’s car,” she shouted to Dan and unlocked the
door.

“Don’t open it!” Dan shouted. “His car was stolen!”

The warning came too late. Someone pushed the door open the
second the lock clicked. Valerie shoved her weight into it, but the person on
the other side out-bulked her. She stumbled back at a hard shove. Leather
snapped around her neck yanked her forward. Eyes wide, she stared up at the
intruder and the gun pointed over her shoulder toward Dan.