THE DEFENDER (4 page)

Her brother poked his finger at her. “Exactly why you need to follow Voight’s instructions and lay low.”

She didn’t want to believe her father had been the target of a shooting. Could someone hate them that much?

American citizens deserved to have their constitutional rights protected and that was her job. Invariably upon meeting someone, she’d be asked what was known by defense attorneys as the “cocktail party question.” The old “How can you defend them?” and nothing provoked Penny like that blasted question. For her it was about judgment, and implying that being a defense lawyer was somehow less worthy than being a prosecutor. As if she took joy in defending a man accused of murder. In truth, many nights she lost sleep over it.

Reality was she couldn’t resist the job. Call her a masochist but she loved the unwinnable case. Loved the inevitable problems and the intellectual challenge.

The war.

“This may shock you, Zachary, but I will follow his advice. I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid. Still, the idea that Dad was targeted because he defended someone’s rights seems hypocritical. Not that I understand the criminal mind.”

“Amen to that,” Zac said. He rapped his knuckle on the door. “Get packed up. I’m hungry and I’m tired.”

“A deadly combination,” Emma deadpanned.

Zac threw her the king of hairy eyeballs.
Oh, boy.
Knowing just how crabby her brother could be when his sugar crashed, Penny closed her laptop, unplugged it and shoved it into her messenger bag. “Don’t fight. Please. I’ve had enough conflict for one day. I mean, seriously, it’s not every day someone tries to kill me.”

Chapter Three

Russ badged his way into Gerald Hennings’s office, parked in one of the guest chairs and waited for him to get off the phone. It was 10:00 a.m. and the day had already gone to hell. As of 7:43 a.m., after surviving a surgery that would have killed most, the reporter who’d been shot on the courthouse steps was no longer among the living.

This development had Russ reprioritizing his caseload just when he’d gotten traction on Heath. He wanted to nail that guy and send him away for a good long time.

For years, Russ had been chasing guys like Heath, guys who would rob senior citizens and hardworking people of their life’s savings. His own parents had been victimized by a mortgage scammer, and from the day his childhood home had been foreclosed on, Russ let his hurt and anger fuel him on the job. On the days he got sick of the lowlifes, he thought of the morning, at age twelve, he’d stood on the front lawn watching his father turn over the keys to their home. A sight like that didn’t leave a man.

Ever.

Hennings set his phone in the cradle and relaxed back in his chair. Fit for a man his age, he was legendary in Chicago for his pristine appearance. Rarely had his expertly cut salt-and-pepper hair been seen out of place. Add to that his custom shirts and flashy suspenders, and reporters all over the city now referred to him as Dapper DL, short for Dapper Defense Lawyer.

“Good morning, Agent Voight.”

Russ leaned over the desk and shook his hand. “Morning, sir.”

“You have an update for me?”

“I do. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but the reporter involved in the shooting died this morning.”

“I did hear that. Tragedy. We’ll send our condolences.” He shook his head. “I’ll never understand what drives someone to do this.”

Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t defend these monsters.
That was another conversation, though. Right now he had news and, figuring Gerald Hennings liked his bad news brief and to the point, he dived in. “I’m not at liberty to give you details, but we’ve seen enough evidence to suggest you may have been the target of the shooting yesterday.”

To the man’s credit, he didn’t react. His face remained neutral. No raised eyebrows, no frown, not even a blink. Russ supposed years of defending scumbags had honed his body-language skills.

“I see,” he said. “And you’re sure it was me? Not Penny?”

That, Russ couldn’t say. “We’re not a hundred percent. You and Penny were in close proximity to the shooting and reporters generally aren’t targeted that often. With the location involved, there is likely a bigger issue as opposed to a random shooting.”

Hennings finally gave him some body language and rolled his bottom lip out. “Something tells me that’s not the only reason you’re here.”

Smart man. Russ nodded. “We’re arranging protection for you, Penny and Zac.”

“You think that’s necessary?”

“We’d rather play it safe while we’re investigating. You can expect more questioning today, and we’re coordinating with the U.S. Marshals to get you protection.”

If the man had any issues with the plan, he gave no indication of it. Too bad he was a defense lawyer. He’d make a damned fine FBI agent.

“I appreciate that,” Hennings said. “When can we expect someone? I need to tell Zac. And my daughter.”

Lucky him. “It’ll be today.”

“Good.” He propped his elbows on the desk, ran both hands over his perfect, albeit thinning, styled hair, then cracked a smile. “Would it be considered bribing an officer if I paid you a hundred dollars to tell Penny?”

And damn if he didn’t like this guy. “You’re apprehensive about the protection?”

“No. I’m apprehensive about telling my stubborn daughter a marshal will be tagging along wherever she goes. You’d better find someone with stamina. She’ll debate everything.”

Don’t I know it?
Then again, an assignment like this, minus the hundred bucks, might be one Russ could cherish. He’d hold this sucker in his heart for the rest of his life.

“Sir, five months ago, your daughter subjected me to the most brutal cross-examination I have ever endured. She whipped me so hard I’m still bleeding.”

Hennings’s smile went full-blown. Clearly the man adored his daughter. “I taught her well.”

“You did. Which I should be ticked at you about, but I’m going to help you out here. You keep your hundred bucks, because after that beating she put me through, I’d love nothing more than to tell her that when it comes to her safety, she’ll have to do exactly what I say. That will be the most fun I’ve had in years.”

* * *

P
ENNY
HUSTLED
ACROSS
the flooded Chicago street barely beating the walk signal and almost getting plastered by a cabbie who’d obviously had too much caffeine.

Caffeine overload was exactly her intention on this short trip from her office in the adjacent building. Considering sleep had eluded her most of the night, the double-shot latte might do the trick. Being the freak of nature she was, five hours of slumber each night was all she needed. Mostly. Last night she’d been woefully short. Apparently, being the victim of a crazed sniper wasn’t conducive to restful sleep.

Don’t think about it.
She pushed through the revolving door of Erin’s Gourmet Coffee, where the frigid air—a lovely relief from the unseasonably vicious heat—and the aroma of fresh coffee welcomed her. Add Erin’s acclaimed hot scones and Penny went into sensory overload.
Come to me, baby.

She stepped to the back of the four-deep line and glanced around. Not an open table to be had. Just as well. She’d told the receptionist she’d only be a few minutes. No time to dawdle. And since when did she like to dawdle? If this was what a lack of sleep did, she wanted no part of it. Building a great law career meant no breaks when she should be studying case files.

Her cell phone rang and she slipped it from her jacket pocket. Blocked number. This should be good. Being a defense attorney, blocked numbers always proved somewhat entertaining. Could be a paranoid client. Could be a potential client. Could be a whole host of things that would turn her ho-hum day into one heck of a humdinger.

She hit the button before the call went to voice mail, then stuck a finger in her ear to silence the echoing conversations of the packed shop. “Penny Hennings,” she said in her tough-as-nails lawyer voice.

“Ah, the lovely Penny Hennings. I’m surprised you took my call.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be, since your number is blocked and I don’t know who this is. If you didn’t expect me to pick up, why call?”

“This is Colin Heath.”

Penny shoved the phone away and stared at it. Had the thing shifted to animal form? Never before had she received a call from a man one of her clients was about to testify against.

Suddenly, her father’s voice boomed in her head, advising her to forget her nerves. To approach her subject in that cool, collected way she’d practiced for years and then, when the moment presented itself, to slowly lure her prey in and strike.

Even if her prey was a murderous madman.

She put the phone back to her ear. “According to you, this is Colin Heath, but theoretically you could be anyone.”

“Defense lawyers. Always so suspicious.”

Comes with the territory, buddy.

The woman behind her made an effort of clearing her throat. The line had moved, but Penny hadn’t. She turned to the woman. “Sorry.”

Needing to concentrate, she stepped out of line and walked to an empty corner near the pastry case. “What can I do for you, Mr. Heath?”

“Oh, my love, call me Colin. After all, I let you live yesterday.”

A slow burn curled inside her. “What do you mean, you let me live?”

“I’ve been watching Elizabeth Brooks. She’s talking to you. Advise her to forget my name. Her husband stole from me and he knew the risks that posed.”

Movement at the door drew her gaze and a dark-haired—and stone-faced—Russ Voight strode in.
What the heck?
He scanned the crowded shop, spotted her and beelined to her.

She threw her hand up before he spoke and pointed at the phone. “Mr.
Heath,
why are you calling me? If you’re looking for an attorney, obviously I can’t help you.”

Russ gawked. At any other time, she’d have laughed that the sexy FBI agent’s chiseled features had suddenly gone soft and horrified, but right now she was too freaked to consider it funny.

“Oh, but you can help,” Heath said. “Tell Elizabeth to keep that lovely mouth of hers shut and I will continue to let you live.”

What? Penny stood tall. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Explain.”

“On the courthouse steps. That was my shooter, Ms. Hennings. He’s quite good. In all that chaos, he managed not to hit you or your dear father. Your options are these. You either stop working with Elizabeth Brooks or get her to keep quiet. If you do that, she and that boy of hers will stay alive. I’d hate to see him grow up without at least one parent.”

The slow burning inside Penny erupted to a full-blown volcano. Needing something to do—other than hunt down Colin Heath and strangle him—she latched on to Russ’s suit sleeve and twisted. Just a vicious grip that made her knuckles pop. To Russ’s credit, he took the assault on his person in stride.

This crazed lunatic thought he’d use her to threaten a client. Not. Ever.

Russ swiveled two fingers between her eyes and his.
Focus,
he mouthed.

She threw her shoulders back, breathed in and let calm, fierce lawyer Penny take hold. As lawyer Penny, no one could beat her. She pictured Colin Heath in the witness box, waiting for her to decimate him—to shred him.

Go.

“Clearly you’re aware that you’re threatening me. I could have you arrested. And it would be the least of your crimes.”

What?
Russ mouthed.

Penny held her finger up.
I got this, fella.

“But you won’t,” Heath said. “If you did, I’d have you killed. Even from prison I can make it happen. I could do it right now. Or when you leave the coffee shop.”

He knew where she was. Searing heat shot to her cheeks. Fear? Maybe. Because there was something incredibly weakening about a murderer stalking her.

Shifting sideways to peer around Russ, she studied each table. In the corner, two men sat in deep conversation. Couldn’t be Heath. The next two tables had been pushed together by a group of moms out for morning coffee with their toddlers. A young guy, maybe twenty, sat at one table, reading a magazine. Too young.

“What?” Russ finally said.

She put her hand over the receiver and got right next to his ear. “He knows I’m in here.”

“Don’t worry,” Heath said. “I’m not in the store with you. I wouldn’t be that foolish. Tell the FBI agent I see him, too.”

Heaven help her. Where was this man?

She looked up at Russ again, focused on his dark eyes instead of the fear making her tremble. He stuck his bottom lip out—thinking—and rolled his hand.

Keep talking. Easy for him to say. He hadn’t just been threatened by a psycho who’d decided opening fire on innocent people would be a good way to prove a point.

A woman squeezed behind Russ to peruse the offerings in the bakery case and he inched forward, shook his head. She understood. A packed coffee shop wasn’t exactly a great place to have this conversation, but she wasn’t about to step outside and make herself a target. Again.

Trapped in a damned coffee shop and she couldn’t even get any caffeine.

Russ glanced into the hallway behind them, where one of the coffee-guzzling moms had just exited the restroom.

He grabbed Penny’s wrist, dragged her down the hall, where her enormous heels clicked and clacked against the tile. Finally, she and Russ swung into the bathroom. The barely-big-enough-for-one bathroom left them a few inches apart, and the heady mix of his soap—spice and leather—brought the memory of Russ on top of her the day before, giant erection and all, to mind.

Too close.

She scooted back and bumped the toilet. Ew. Sideways. Only way to go. Russ must have sensed her discomfort, though, and, hero that he was, backed against the door to give her any available space.

“Lovely Penny?”

And how annoying was that whole lovely-Penny nonsense?
Crush him.

“Let me get this straight,” she said to Heath. “You want me to convince my client not to testify against you. In exchange you will leave her and her son alone. Why not just kill them both?”

Heath laughed. Not that she expected him to answer that question. As an attorney she was ethically bound to report any crime she’d been made aware of. Worse, he’d been careful not to give Penny specifics about the threat he’d made against her. Yesterday alone she’d threatened to kill someone five times. Didn’t mean she’d do it. Right now, she had nothing worth reporting. Oh, this was a calculating man. He knew exactly where the line was.

“My offer is on the table, lovely Penny.”

“You realize if I try to talk her out of testifying she could get another attorney.”

“She could, but people might get hurt. With this sudden guilty conscience of hers, she couldn’t live with it. But, alas, you won’t let that happen. Too many lives at risk. Yours, hers, the boy’s. Even your family.”

Her
family.
She slapped her hand over her head, stared hard at Russ as a wave of emotion so raw and ravaging tore into her, made her skin burn. What would keep Heath from going after them? Her mother, her father. What about Zac, Mr. Predictable? He stopped at the same coffee shop every morning on his way to work. Every morning. Same time. Same location. One by one, this maniac could pick off her family.

Gently, Russ set his hand on top of hers and squeezed. “Breathe,” he whispered. “Relax.”

Closing her eyes, she focused on next steps. On getting this psycho locked up. Yes. That was what she’d do.

“I understand,” she said into the phone.

“How many lives will be lost, Penny? It’s up to you. I’ll phone you in twenty-four hours. Give me the right answer.”