Man with the Muscle (14 page)

Steve Lassen spat out blood and cursed Alex for breaking his camera as two officers locked his wrists behind him and pulled him up. Alex rolled to his feet, his shoulders still heaving with every steadying breath, his eyes never leaving the reporter who'd gotten to her.

“Book this guy on assault and confiscate that camera as potential evidence,” Trip ordered.

“What about my rights?” Lassen argued.

“What about
her
rights?” Alex crept forward. “You think terrorizing her makes a good story?”

“So I was right. The Society Princess has received another threat.” Lassen made a terrible mistake. He smiled.

“Alex!” Audrey dove out of the truck to stop him from attacking the loathsome reporter. She grabbed on to his belt and tried to pull him away.

But Trip was there first, one big hand on Alex's shoulder, warning him back—the other hand pointed at Lassen's face. For a big man with a booming voice, Trip's hushed words sounded far more dangerous. “Let me tell you one thing, Lassen. I may be twice this guy's size, but I'm not the one you want to be pickin' a fight with. Now you go quietly with these officers, or I'll add
resisting arrest to the assault charge and trespassing in a restricted area without your press credentials.”

The two officers pulled Lassen away from the scene, but the washed-up reporter kept right on talking. “You know, one of these days I'll get my regular job back at the
Journal,
and I'll be writing such an exposé about police brutality and how the rich girls in this town get to call the shots and the poor jerks like me have to bow down to whatever you say. I'm going to change things. You wait and see.”

“Rich girls?” Audrey released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. “He blames me for him getting fired at the
Journal?
”

Lassen was locked inside a black-and-white cruiser before Trip released his hold on Alex. “He's an old drunk who can't keep a job, so he's trying to prolong his fifteen minutes of fame. Don't let him get to you.”

Alex shoved his fingers through his hair, leaving a rumpled wake. “I let him get to Audrey.”

“No, you kept him from hurting her, from exploiting her.”

Finally, Alex took his eyes off Lassen and glanced up at Trip. “Semantics, big guy. Now's the time when you should be giving me the lecture about the rookie forgetting procedure and losing his cool.”

“If somebody I cared about was being mobbed like that…?” Trip thumbed over his shoulder. “Get in the truck.”

As the crowd dispersed and the legitimate reporters got on their phones and in their cars to call in their stories, Audrey climbed up into the truck between the two men and they headed toward KCPD headquarters just a few blocks away.

Alex glanced over and touched the smudge of dirt Lassen had left on the sleeve of her coat. “The next time I give you grief about checking your emotions, tell me to shut up.”

“He's not allowed to touch her, Taylor.” Trip stopped at a light. He checked the intersection in every direction, even using the mirrors to see behind them. “You did your job.”

Did Alex notice that Trip had refrained from using his “shrimp” nickname? Alex's friend was backing him up. Understanding.

“Yeah. Just doing my job. Maybe I haven't outgrown my street background as much as I thought.”

“Alex…” Audrey began. Maybe Alex didn't hear the distinction Trip had made. He fisted his hand in his lap, seething in uncharacteristic silence beside her. She reached over and curled her fingers around his hand. “I was scared back there. It felt so personal, like it didn't have anything to do with the trial.”

He instantly opened his fist and turned his hand to match his palm to hers and lace their fingers together. “I wouldn't have let him hurt you.”

She squeezed his hand, believing his promise, thanking him. “I was scared you were going to get yourself into trouble. But mostly I was scared by how much I wanted to see you punch his lights out.” His dark eyes narrowed quizzically and she shrugged. “Not very high-brow or politically correct of me, is it? He knew Dad was in the hospital. He knew about the threats. He said ‘rich girl.'” Her hand shook inside Alex's grip. “I've lost two friends, Val Gallagher and Gretchen Cosgrove, to somebody the police are calling the Rich Girl Killer.”

Alex brushed a tendril of hair off her cheek and
tucked it behind her ear. “Sweetheart, he was pushing your buttons, that's all.”

“He didn't give a damn that I might be upset or afraid. I wanted you to hit him, to shut him up.” She paused as Trip moved into traffic again, waiting for the implication to set in. “See what happens when I get emotional? I don't cry pretty, my face turns pink and I want to hit something. And here I thought I'd been raised to be a lady. Does that make me ‘street,' too?”

Trip threw back his head and laughed. She felt the tension in Alex finally relax. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. He was grinning. “Audrey Kline, you've got so much class running through your blood that you couldn't be ‘street' if I tattooed it on your ass.” He leaned over and kissed her mouth. “But you're learning. Now let's go convince some Bad Boys to turn on Big D.”

Audrey latched on to his hand with both of hers and rested her cheek against his shoulder. Maybe, just maybe, she could learn to live with her heart wide open the way Alex Taylor did.

If nobody killed her first.

Promising that she wouldn't leave her office until Alex came to escort her to the courthouse after their lunch-time recess the following day, Audrey finally got her first private moment since that morning. Pulling her gaze from the well-formed back of Alex's uniform as he strode across to Dwight Powers's office to make a requested report on her safety, she darted around to the chair behind her desk and picked up her phone to call Clarice Darnell's number.

Her father answered on the first ring. “Yes, missy?”

“Daddy? Why didn't Clarice answer? Isn't she there?” She stood up as quickly as she'd sat down. “I thought the whole point of you staying at Clarice's was so someone could be with you around the clock. Mrs. Puente can take care of you during the day and I'll be home tonight if you want to move back to the house. And what about the protection detail? Are they there?”

Rupert Kline's warm chuckle sounded perfectly normal. “You sound like an old mother hen. A police cruiser is parked right across the street, keeping an eye on things. Clarice is fixing me a sandwich. I was sitting right by the phone and saw your number so I picked up. You don't have to call me every two hours to make sure that I'm all right.”

Audrey took a calming breath, forcing herself to remember that her father was as much of an adult as she was. “Are you sure this is a good idea? The doctor said that you didn't suffer a full-fledged heart attack, but…” That didn't mean she wasn't worried about him running across a subsequent threat and succumbing to the real thing. Getting away from the house, from her, might be another benefit to staying with his new lady friend. “You sound tired.”

“The nurses kept waking me up throughout the night, checking my pulse and who knows what else. I swear I don't know how anyone can rest up in a hospital. Frankly, I'm glad to be here.”

“Is she taking good care of you? Making sure you rest?”

“She turned all her work over to her assistant, Jeffrey, and is devoting her entire day to me.”

“And tonight?”

Her father was chuckling again. “Are you worried we're going to sleep in the same bed?”

“Dad!” Oh, Lord, she hadn't gone there yet. Clarice's offer to care for her father after his release from the hospital this morning was a generous gift, and should have eased some of Audrey's concern. But she knew where
her
thoughts had been when Alex had tenderly held her through the night again. And she was no more ready to admit that her father might be falling in love when she was barely able to get her head around the idea that she herself was falling for someone she never would have imagined herself with.

“You still there, missy?”

“I'm here.” Audrey pulled her thoughts back to the
conversation. “I guess I'm just not used to sharing you with another woman.”

“Don't worry, dear. We're not talking about anything permanent yet. And if we do get there, you know that no one writes a better prenup agreement than I do.” His words took the edge of her concern. “You're still the number one woman in my book. How's the trial going?”

In other words, change the topic already. Rupert Kline was a successful man and certainly no fool.
Duly noted.
Although the lawyer in her still wanted to question Clarice Darnell's motives for being so attentive to her father, Audrey was beginning to understand how insulated and lonely they'd become since her mother's death. If her father was willing to embrace a new relationship, maybe she should support his decision—and consider doing the same with Alex.

Audrey cleared her throat, tucked a stray tendril of hair into the bun at her nape and answered. “Technical stuff this morning, mostly. Cade Shipley seemed to have an answer to rebut almost all of the expert witness testimony I presented.”

“Shipley is more interested in headlines than in justice. Just keep your head about you—you'll get the job done.” He cleared his throat, changing his tone. “Have there been any more threats since that newspaper? Do the police have any leads?”

“They're working on it. The lab didn't find any usable prints on the paper, and a Detective Fensom talked to the paperboy—he said a black man paid him twenty dollars to deliver that paper instead of the
Journal.
” Audrey hugged her arm across her waist to ease the tension gathering inside her. If her father hadn't heard
about her run-in with Steve Lassen yesterday afternoon, she wasn't about to tell him. “Thank goodness the boy wasn't hurt. I don't know if I could handle any more collateral damage because of Demetrius Smith.”

“So KCPD thinks one of Smith's gang sent the threat?”

“I suppose.” She pressed her lips together to keep any mention of the Rich Girl Killer from accidentally popping out. Audrey was sure the threats were all trial-related, but now that Lassen had thrown the idea out there that Val's and Gretchen's murders—and the threats against her—might be the work of a serial killer who targeted wealthy women, she was having a hard time getting the possibility out of her head. But no way was she going to repeat that sensationalized suggestion to her father.

“Is Officer Taylor keeping you safe? I warned him to keep a close eye on you since I can't be there to do it myself. He's screening your mail? Your calls?”

Despite her quest for independence, she was a little bit glad that in some ways she would always be her daddy's little girl. The love she heard in his overprotective words gave her the strength she needed to summon a smile. “He has me on a short leash, Dad. I haven't been anywhere without Alex or someone on his team keeping me company.”

“Good. If they're not doing their job, I'll put in a personal call to Police Commissioner Masterson.”

“Daddy—” A firm knock at the door made Audrey's pulse race for a moment, but the anticipation quickly diffused when she saw a tall blond in a suit and tie instead of a uniformed cop with blue-black hair. “I have to go, Dad. Harper's here.”

“Tell him hello.”

“I will. I love you, Dad.”

“Love you.”

Harper Pierce invited himself into her office as she hung up the phone. “How's Rupert?” he asked.

Audrey tucked her phone into her attaché. “The doctor says he'll be just fine. The pacemaker did its job. He needs his rest, of course, for a few days.”

“Glad to hear that.” His smile transformed into something closer to a scowl. “So you're not taking my phone calls now?”

With a guilty start, Audrey punched the buttons on her phone and discovered five missed calls from his number. She apologized with a shrug. “I'm sorry, Harper. It's been crazy the past few days. With Dad. And I've been in court—”

“Were you in court last night? The night before that?”

“What?” So much for idle chitchat.

“We need to talk. I figured in person was the only way I could get your full attention and make you listen to reason.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I waited until your shadow disappeared into Dwight's office.”

Not this conversation again. Pulling back the sleeve of her jacket, Audrey made a point of letting Harper see her checking her watch. “Can we schedule another time to catch up? Lunch this weekend, maybe. I know you were upset when you left the house the other night, and I want to clarify any misunderstanding between us, but I do have to be at the courthouse in thirty minutes. With the press and traffic—”

“This can't wait.” He took another step inside and closed the door behind him. His face was lined with
concern when he turned to face her. “I'm worried about you. I heard about the bomb. That crazy reporter at the courthouse. I saw the picture in the paper.”

“No serious harm done.” She tapped the fading bruise on her cheek. “I have a bodyguard, Harper. I'm taking precautions.”

“I'm worried about your feelings as much as your safety.”

“My feelings?”

“You're vulnerable right now, Audrey. God knows you're attractive and a catch that any man with an eye to his future would want.”

Not the smoothest of compliments, but she already understood where this friendly warning was going and bristled beneath the silky fabric of her blouse.

“When you're under stress, when you're frightened, it's natural to turn to the people closest to you. I thought you'd have the sense to turn to someone you know you can trust.”

“Like you?”

“Yes. You're pushing away the people you've known for years and leaning on a man you barely know.”

Audrey looped the strap of her attaché over her shoulder and circled around her desk. “I'm not leaning on anyone. I stand on my own two feet.”

Harper's subtle step to the side blocked her exit. His handsome face wore an apologetic expression—the hand on her arm was gently familiar. “You're getting defensive already. I can tell you think you care about Taylor.”

Think? She'd been doing nothing but for the past forty-eight hours. “Thanks for caring, but my relationship with Alex is my business, not yours.”

Harper's fingers tightened around her wrist. And there was nothing handsome about the accusation in his eyes. “You're screwing him, aren't you?”

Audrey tugged her arm from his grip. “I beg your pardon?”

“He's not good enough for you.”

Audrey's chin shot up. “He's a better man than you are. He'd never talk to me like this, like I'm still some impulsive teenage girl who doesn't know her own mind. This isn't the kind of support I need from you right now.”

“I checked him out. You know Taylor's adopted?”

“Yes.”

“And his real dad is in prison?”

Audrey pushed him aside and reached for the door-knob. “I don't know you anymore. This conversation is over.”

He pulled her hand off the knob and turned her around. “I thought you and I had something special, Aud.”

“So did I. A friendship.” Was that hurt? Confusion? Anger she read in his eyes? “You keep insulting Alex Taylor and my intelligence and I'm not so sure we have even that.”

As quickly as he'd grabbed her, Harper let her go. His posture sagged as he retreated a step. “After all we've been through together, you'd pick him over me?”

In a heartbeat.
That was her gut answering. But how much of what she was feeling for Alex was gratitude? The way he made her feel so protected? Or even an honest amount of lust? Tamping down those unresolved questions, she reached behind her and opened the door. “I've tried to give you some leeway because I expect
you're still grieving over Gretchen, and maybe you think I can take her place in your life. I can't. I'm not interested in doing that. Now I have to get to court. My escort is waiting.”

She knew by scent and heat—and the shift of Harper's contemptuous gaze—that Alex was there. Right behind her. Backing her up.

“Is there a problem?” Alex asked.

“No. I'd like to go now.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Audrey grabbed her coat and, with Alex's arm around her waist—between her and the friend she no longer knew—left the office without looking back, giving her parting words a double meaning. “Goodbye, Harper.”

 

A
UDREY'S STOMACH GROWLED
loudly enough for Alex to hear it across the cab of his truck. He turned on his headlights and drove out of the KCPD parking garage into the last hurrah of rush-hour traffic. “Hungry?”

“What was your first clue?” She leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. “I guess between the trial and Dad, interviewing gangbangers who are too terrified or too loyal to say anything against Demetrius, and that run-in with Harper, I forgot about eating.”

He liked seeing her kick off her high-heeled boots and wiggle her toes. While he'd keep his opinion of that bullying snob Pierce to himself, he understood that she'd been dumbfounded by whatever they'd argued about, and was probably mourning the loss of the relationship they'd once shared. Her devotion to her father and her dedication to her work were admirable traits, but sometimes she got wound up so tight that he didn't think she knew how to relax or have fun.

“Can I take you to dinner?” he asked.

“Are you asking me out on a date, officer?”

“Well, you saw for yourself after court today that your dad and Ms. Darnell have settled in for an evening of popcorn and DVDs while the sarge keeps an eye on them.” He checked his watch, hoping it wasn't too late and his idea wasn't too lame for a woman like Audrey.

“It won't be Brennan's on the Plaza, but I could rustle up some chow.”

Her giggle was a lovely sound in her throat. He hadn't heard it often enough. “I'm not as high-maintenance as you think, Taylor. As long as it involves a cup of hot tea, I'm in.”

Good. Then he had a plan. Someplace intimate, away from any crowds, where the service was stellar and the food even better. He turned north toward the City Market and pulled out his phone to make a reservation. Another set of headlights turned north about half a block behind him, and while he always took note of his surroundings, he also realized that they weren't the only people heading home for dinner.

Audrey was dozing as they neared their destination. Three cars were still with him as he turned into the working-class neighborhood where the best food in Kansas City was located. The headlights from downtown were still there, two cars back. He was aware, but not alarmed yet.

He wasn't sure his choice of dining would meet with Audrey's approval, but he knew it was where he needed to go tonight. He'd followed her to bed last night like some kind of eager adolescent. And with her tucked up against him, she'd slept while he lay awake for most of the night, content to simply be close yet wanting to be
inside her all at the same time. He'd lost track of the hours he lay there, breathing in her sweet jasmine scent and wondering if he was as low-rent as Pierce seemed to think, believing that a man like him and a woman like her could be together—
should
be together. After damn near impulsively confessing his love and watching her throw on her armor and deny her emotions yesterday, and then reverting to his beat-down-the-enemy tactics he'd used on Steve Lassen, he needed a good dose of grounding, of familiarity, to get his head screwed on straight. He couldn't do his job, he couldn't do right by Audrey if he couldn't get himself centered again. So yeah, this dinner was about what
he
needed.