Sweet Peas in April (7 page)

“At least you have a chance to talk things over with Sam if nothing else. You both need that. Anyway, give me a couple of days to see what I can dig up.”

“Thanks, Freddie. Say hi to Jason for me.”

6

Sam tugged her skirt down before heading into the Three-Sixteen café. She'd insisted on meeting Adam there for lunch, rather than him picking her up. After all, this was business, not personal. She'd also worn a shorter skirt than normal. It was still decent, but above the knee rather than below. Her shirt was also a little on the tight side.

Was this deliberate? Was part of her trying to show him what he was missing? After all, Peter had been giving her appreciative glances all morning, so she knew she wasn't too far off the mark. She wasn't sure. Either way, she hadn't seen Adam for two days. Not since he picked her up from the police station. Maybe he was avoiding her because they kissed.

Adam sat at a table halfway down the center aisle. He stood as she approached and she had to stifle a grin as his eyes popped out of his head. His shocked expression seemed to indicate he'd forgotten just how good she looked.

Good.

Then she felt guilty for even trying this tack, but it was too late to change her mind now.

Adam recovered himself enough to pull her chair out for her. “Sam, you look—” He trailed off, lost for words.

She smiled. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” She sat down.

“I ordered for you, hope you don't mind?”

She shook her head. “No. What did you order?”

“Chicken, chips, and lemonade.”

She smiled faintly. He knew her too well, even after all this time. “And I guess you're having breakfast?”

He grinned as he sat opposite her. “But of course. And your timing is perfect.”

The waitress put the plates down for them.

“Thank you.” Adam reached across the table and took Sam's hands as he said grace. Then he looked up and shook out his serviette. “It's been a busy couple of days.”

She tried to brush of the ripples of electricity still in her hands that his touch had caused. “It has. I finally finished those reports in my in-tray. You?”

“I've been in court. It isn't much fun. I'm really hoping this case will be done by tonight, maybe tomorrow.”

She watched the way he used his fork, knowing every contour of his fingers and hands. She could so easily get back with him, but could she trust him? Peter didn't seem to think so. He was convinced it had been Adam who'd shopped them. Just like it had been Adam who'd walked out on her, not wanting to give the marriage a second chance. Whose marriage wouldn't flounder after the death of a child?

But he'd come when she called. When she needed him, he was there. Surely that had to count for something, didn't it?

She picked up her cutlery and cut into the chicken. “So, how's the investigation going?”

“It isn't. I'm not working on it at all, right now. Like I said, I'm embroiled in a court case that needs my full attention. I passed your case on to a PI firm and I'm just waiting for them to get back to me.”

Sam scowled, not liking that comment one little bit. “You said you wanted to confer with a PI, not that you'd let them do all the work. I'm not paying you to pass it on.”

“Sam, you're not my only client,” he sighed.

“Which PI firm are you using?” she demanded.

“I can't tell you that.”

She put down her knife and fork. “And why not? I have a right to know. It's my company you're investigating.”

“Keep your voice down. I will tell you when you need to know and not a minute before.”

Sam forced herself not to shout, instead counting quickly in her head to five. “It's my company. Of course I need to know. Don't you pull that line on me.”

“How many times do I have to say this? I've been in court the past two days. I haven't spoken to them. My feet haven't had time to touch the ground. I'm living, breathing, eating this case. This is the first time I've had five minutes to myself, and I'm spending it here with you. Arguing. Again. I'm tired of the fighting, Sam. I just want a nice, quiet lunch.”

He sucked in a deep breath, visibly wrestling with his emotions. “Anyway, how have you been?”

Sam scowled, knowing he was keeping something from her. “I've been busy as well. Trying to keep a low profile. Fortunately news of my arrest didn't make the local TV news, but I'm not looking forward to attending church this weekend.”

“Why ever not? It isn't like anyone is going to know. You just said it didn't make the TV or the papers.”

“David Painter was the cop who stopped us.”

“He isn't going to gossip,” Adam said. “Besides, Pastor Carson is an ex-con. So, on the criminal scale of one to ten, he's way ahead of you.”

That was news to her, but she filed it away to think about later. “I was talking to Peter the other day. He thinks he was set up. Did you call the police?”

“You can't set someone up for drunk driving. They are drunk and driving, which is illegal. I rest my case.”

She took a sip of her drink. “He had a valid point. He was about to drive away when two cops just happened by to ask—”

Adam's phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket. “Excuse me, one moment. Adam West speaking.”

Sam sighed and looked down at her plate, eating slowly, tuning out Adam's conversation. He'd sidestepped the question. Maybe Peter was right.

Adam put his phone away. “Sorry about that.”

She glanced up. Worry creased his brow and his left hand was clenched, a sure sign he was concerned about something. “Is everything OK?”

“No, not really. Something's come up at work, I'm going to have to run and see to it before court. Are you busy tomorrow night? I thought we could have dinner somewhere. Go for a drive, see where we end up. And see if we can't get through an entire meal without arguing.” He tilted his head. “It's got to be worth a try, right?”

“That sounds nice. Sure.”

“OK. Meet me at my office at five thirty tomorrow.” He stood. “I'm sorry to leave like this.”

“Don't worry.”

He pulled his wallet from his pocket.

“I'll get it. You paid last time.”

He nodded, putting his wallet back. “Thanks.” He grabbed his case and jacket. “Sorry.” And he was gone.

Sam sat for a moment, then turned back to her dinner.

Something big must be happening in the case he was working. At least she knew it wasn't anything to do with her.

By his own admission, he wasn't working on her case, right now. Some PI was.

****

Adam unlocked his car and slumped into the driver's seat. He closed his eyes, trying to get his head around work rather than the woman he'd just walked out on. That seemed to be becoming a habit he'd rather not hang on to. Sam had finally come back into his life, albeit with another bloke vying for her attention at every turn, and he was walking out every chance he got. Something didn't seem right about this? Was he just too caught up in it? Too used to seeing bad things at every turn?

His phone rang again. “West.”

“Hi, Adam, it's Freddie. I'll deliver those files to your office myself in the next half hour or so. Give you a chance to read over them before we meet to discuss them tomorrow.”

“Thanks. You have marked the folders ‘eyes only', right? It's just that I'm in court all afternoon, and I don't want anyone else to see them. Not even my PA. Not with as much at stake as there is.”

It was going to be another sleepless night by the looks of it. He wouldn't be out of court until five at the earliest.

“I did, but…Adam? You were right on the nose with the money trail. The yellow one is someone high up in the company. The clearance required means it can only be one of two people—the CEO or the VP.”

“I'm not sure who the VP is, but I can find out.” He paused. “Though I'm guessing you already have.”

“Not exactly. There isn't one on record, but someone with that clearance is in the system, so maybe ask tactfully. Adam, be careful. My gut tells me that realistically, there can only be one person behind all this. And that has to be Sam.”

7

No way. Never.
Adam pushed back into his seat. His fingers clenched on the phone, his heart pounded in his chest, and a huge lump filled his throat. It can't be. She wouldn't do something like that. He knew her. “
What?
”

“I've got to go, sorry. Client just walked in. I'll leave the files for you.”

“Freddie, wait—”

The phone went dead, and Adam looked at it. He didn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. Was he wrong? Were his feelings getting mixed up in this? Should he just back off now and get someone else to take over the case? Part of him didn't want that because he wanted to protect her. He
needed
to protect her.

At that instant he knew he still loved her.

He closed his eyes, praying over the whole mess and asking for guidance as to where to go next and how to handle the situation.

Adam glanced at his watch. He was going to be late.

He arrived at court on time by the skin of his teeth, only to find the case postponed as the other party was not able to attend that afternoon, so the judge called a recess. He went back to his office and locked the door, telling his PA he didn't want to be disturbed. Making a large pot of coffee, he sank into his chair and opened the first file.

Adam worked all afternoon and all evening until eleven o'clock, tracing Sam's personal and work history. He also traced Max Holder, Troy Branning, and Peter Carter. Any of those three could have been her VP as all three had clearance levels way above their pay grade. But the one name that he kept coming back to was Peter Carter.

He left Freddie a voicemail message and headed home.

He didn't want to go home at all, but knew he had to at least rest as he was due in court again at ten.

****

Adam had another rubbish morning in court. His mind was elsewhere, and when the judge ruled in his client's favor just before lunch he was relieved. Not feeling any of the usual sense of elation, Adam trudged back to where he'd left his car.

Crossing the road, he saw Sam and Peter standing in the entrance to the park. They were talking intently, Peter holding her hand. Then he hugged her.

Jealousy stabbed at his heart. Adam turned the other way, deliberately going the long way around to the car park. Once he arrived back at the office, he shut himself away again, determined to go over every single paper with a fine-toothed comb.

By four o'clock, his office resembled a bomb site. Papers covered every available surface, including the floor. Several empty coffee cups lay scattered across the room. His jacket hung on the back of his chair, his tie off, sleeves rolled beyond his elbows.

He glanced up at his reflection in the mirror as there was a knock at the door. His hair stood at all angles, probably from where he kept shoving his fingers through it. He sighed. He looked so professional. Not. Oh well, nothing he could do now. “Come in.”

Jo opened the door. “There's a Mrs. Bryant here to see you.”

“Thanks.” He stood. “Freddie, come on in. Sorry about the mess. There is just about a path from the door to the desk.”

Treading very carefully, Freddie came in and shook his hand. “Working hard, I see.”

Adam cast an eye over the mess. “Just trying to make sense of all this. Coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”

“Thank you.” Freddie sat at his desk. “And have you made sense of it?”

Adam poured the coffee. “No. I was hoping you'd help shed some light on it.”

Freddie took the cup. “That's not like you. I thought I'd spelled it out.”

He sighed, taking his coffee back to the desk. “I guess I'm too personally involved. I see only what I want to see.”

A faint smile crossed Freddie's lips. “I hate being right all the time, but I did tell you that several days ago.”

“I know. Can we just shatter what little dreams I have left here?” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Freddie sipped the coffee, uncovering a coaster on a corner of the desk. “What have you turned up?” she asked.

“Three names keep coming up. One of them, Holder, is dead. The second, Branning, is the guy suing her, but he's involved as deep as it's possible to be without drowning. And the third is Peter Carter. But I think she's seeing him on a personal level.”

“And do you have proof of this? Or is it simply jealousy and a thought?”

Adam scrunched his nose at her and yanked at his suddenly too tight shirt collar. “He was arrested, along with her, three days ago for drunk in charge of a motor vehicle, outside Lancini's where he'd taken her for a supposedly spontaneous lunch. Sam was arrested for obstruction. He's very touchy-feely. And she doesn't object. I saw them after I left court at lunchtime, hugging. Now how many co-workers do that?”

“You're jealous.”

“No. Yes.”

She tilted her head. “Good answer. Typical lawyer response if I may say so. Which is it?”

He drew in a deep breath. “She's my wife, even if we are separated. Of course I still have feelings for her.”

“Which is why you can't be impartial over this.” Freddie sipped her coffee and put the cup down. “So, let me walk you through it.”

Over the next hour, Freddie went over her notes with Adam. Adam's heart sank and his gut knotted. It did make sense. There was no doubt where her figures were leading. He might be able to stall for a few more days, but he had to hand all these files over to the fraud squad, who'd hand them straight to the CPS.

The door opened. “Adam, are you ready?”

He glanced up. Sam stood there, her eyes narrowing as she took in the two of them bent over the desk. He was just grateful he and Freddie had closed the files and put them away as they worked. “Sam. Hi.”