White Collared Part Three: Revenge (3 page)

Even as the pills’ effects kicked in and slowed her heart rate, panic slammed into her, turning her blood to ice.

“Is she under arrest?” Nick asked.

The cop frowned. “No, but—”

“Then she declines your request.” Nick gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, reminding her that this time she had an attorney on her side. “Process the scene and get out of here. Ms. Martin has had an extreme shock. She needs rest, and then I’m sure she’ll want to visit her friend in the hospital.”

Officer Price waved over one of the other cops. “I’m going to have Officer Hannon take some pictures, and Officer George will take a couple samples from you. Then we’re going to need your clothes and shoes. You can change in your room.”

She got up from the table, surprised that her trembling legs supported her weight. Jaxon inched a bit closer, as if afraid she’d fall, while Nick watched with a professional eye.

The cop had her hold out her hands. She flinched as the camera clicked several times. He thanked her, moved out into the hallway, and photographed the front door.

Officer Hannon used a Q-tip to swab some blood from her hands, clipped a fingernail, and then took her fingerprints. He handed her a small, white plastic container with a hazardous materials sticker. “Please remove your clothes and shoes and place them in here.”

At Nick’s nod, she hurried off, eager to change her clothes. But first she took a detour to the bathroom and washed the blood off her hands, knowing the longer she waited, the more difficult it would be to clean. Scrubbing with soap and hot water, she was able to at least erase the visible presence of Hannah’s blood. As she entered her bedroom, she popped another pill and kicked off her shoes. After removing and folding all her clothes, she put them all in the evidence collection container and sat on her bed to catch her breath.

She dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her pounding forehead. What would the police say when they realized she and Hannah were wearing the same clothes? In her mind she heard Hannah’s voice calling her “sister.” Kate knew they looked alike, but she never imagined anyone could mistake one for the other. Was it really possible the knife was meant for her? Why would anyone want her dead?

Going for both comfort and a professional appearance in case she ended up at the police station, she threw on black pants and an oversized blouse and then slipped on another pair of heels. She returned to the main room and handed Officer Hannon the container. He and Officer George waved to Officer Price, who was speaking on his phone, and then left the apartment.

With pity in their eyes, Jaxon and Nick watched her every move as if they expected her to break down at any moment. She joined them at the table and waited nervously, chewing on the inside of her cheek and wishing for a glass of gin.

When the cop ended his call, he shocked her by giving her a small smile. “My fellow officers have just busted a robbery in progress a block away from here. A guy broke into a liquor store, cleaned out the till, and then stopped to have a drink. He had blood on his hands and clothes. We’ll check to see if it’s your friend’s, but I’d say there’s a good chance we caught the assailant. If you think of anything else, give me a call.” He handed her a business card and a piece of paper. “Here’s a receipt for your personal items. You can have them back at the completion of our investigation.”

Relief rushed through her, and she exhaled. It was a burglary gone wrong. No one was out to kill her.

Officer Price departed, leaving her behind with a bloodstained carpet and two men, each with a multitude of emotions swirling in his eyes. Her secrets were piled higher than the local landfill, and knowing Nick, he’d want to uncover all of them, layer by layer.

In the stance she’d come to recognize as his interrogation pose, Nick folded his arms across his chest and glared at her. “Now tell me the truth. What was she doing at your apartment? You were fighting this afternoon. Is she jealous I gave you second chair?”

She looked at her feet, gathering the courage to admit the truth. “A couple nights ago, I caught her having sex with my boyfriend.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked softly.

The truth was she didn’t know why she’d kept the breakup from him. Ignoring the hurt in Nick’s eyes, she pretended to misunderstand the question and said, “I lied to the police. I didn’t want them thinking I stabbed her out of anger.”

The corners of his lips twitched. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. But, Kate, where did you go? You weren’t supposed to leave without one of us.”

She glanced at Jaxon. He gave her a slow nod. “I went to Martha Webber’s. Remember, the woman we met at the funeral? I had to learn more about her daughter Stephanie’s murder.”

Nick’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

“A hunch. I didn’t want the press to blindside us by tying the murders to Jaxon. I found out that when they discovered Stephanie’s body, she had blue rope around her wrists and ankles.”

“Anything else? Any whip marks on her skin? The number thirteen?”

“No. Just the blue rope and her connection to Jaxon.” She knew it wasn’t much, but the tingling at the base of her neck had grown more pronounced since speaking with Martha.

Nick inched closer and palmed the back of her head. “I’m glad you weren’t here.”

“Why would you say that? Hannah’s lying in the hospital because I wasn’t here.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “Don’t you see? Hannah wasn’t the intended victim. She must have not locked the door behind her. You two look alike. The perp wasn’t trying to kill Hannah. He was trying to kill you.”

She jerked away from him, uncomfortable with the intimacy of their position and the truth of Nick’s words. “No. You heard Officer Price. They got the guy who did it.”

He glanced at the unusually silent Jaxon before returning his gaze to her. Then he picked up a silver case by the door. “I brought this with me.” He plunked it down on the table and flipped open the top.

“A gun.” A Glock 19 to be exact. Not her favorite, but in her hands, it was deadly.

“If Hannah’s stabbing doesn’t convince you your life is in danger, what will?” Nick caressed her hair. “I don’t want anyone to be able to touch one strand on your beautiful head. I don’t want that phone call, Kate. It would break me.”

Jaxon got up from the table. “I’m with Nick. Tonight you caught a lucky break when you disobeyed our orders. If you had been home . . .”

I could’ve died
. “I’ll take your gun, but don’t even think about kicking me off this case.”

Since her daddy had drilled into her the importance of the constitutional right to bear arms, she’d gotten a concealed pistol license as soon as she’d legally been able. He’d explained that, like a passport, it was a smart thing to have in case of an emergency. Of course, he never would’ve imagined his daughter, a champion shooter, wouldn’t own a dozen guns.

Jaxon turned her to him. “Kate, I’m not worth risking your life over.”

Knowing the modern gun could not accidentally discharge but trembling nonetheless, she picked it up and slipped it into her purse. “I disagree. Whoever called me and sent that message—”

“Message? What message?” Nick asked.

Damn it.
Too many pills had loosened her tongue. “This morning someone sent me a message through Facebook.”

Nick clenched his hands. “I want to see it.
Now
.”

She brought up the e-mail on her cell and then handed him the phone. “It came to my personal e-mail address, and then they posted as me on my timeline with some pictures.”

He perused the message. “Show me the timeline.”

“I can’t. Logan froze the account.”

“Logan? Who’s Logan?”

She shifted from one foot to the other. “Logan Bradford. He interns for Mr. Reaver. He came by my desk this morning and caught sight of it. I wouldn’t have gotten him involved, but as it turns out, he’s a computer whiz. He’s going to trace both the e-mails from Eric Graham and the IP address of whoever accessed my account.”

Nick’s jaw tightened. “You forwarded the e-mail from Graham knowing it was confidential?”

“Logan works for the firm,” she said in her attorney voice. “The confidentiality extends to him. Besides, isn’t it better to have someone in the firm helping us rather than hiring an outside computer specialist or private investigator?”

“You should have spoken to me first about it. I am your boss.” Nick kept his voice calm, but she heard the underlying anger. “You’re keeping secrets that affect this case, and it needs to stop now. What if Reaver discovers his intern is doing work for me and confronts me about it? Do you know how that would make me look?”

She’d disappointed him. Ashamed, she took full responsibility and looked him directly in the eyes. “I didn’t think about it that way. I’m sorry, sir.”

“You should be. It was unprofessional. But the damage is done. I know now, and had you asked me, I would’ve given you permission to have Mr. Bradford follow the leads. I’ll speak with Reaver about it tomorrow.” Like someone had flipped a switch, affection replaced his icy demeanor. “In the meantime, take your gun with you wherever you go. I’ve got a trial starting tomorrow afternoon, but if you need me for anything, I’ll find a way to get to you.” He rubbed her arm and lowered his head as if he were going to kiss her.

She stepped back. “Thank you.”

Nick inhaled deeply and turned his attention to Jaxon. “I assume your visit to Benediction is postponed to another night?”

Jaxon threw his arm around her shoulders. “Yes, but she’s coming home with me. Once the media connects Hannah to Kate, they’ll be all over her. At least my place is gated. It keeps them from ringing my doorbell.”

Nick’s gaze bounced between her and Jaxon again. “Take care of her, Jaxon.”

He knew.

Chapter Four

A
GENTLE SHAKE
lured her out of the peaceful cocoon. “Wake up. We’re here.”

She blinked the darkness from her eyes. The lamp over Jaxon’s garage illuminated half of his face, emphasizing the scar bisecting his brow. With deep lines carved around his eyes and lips, he looked fatigued, as though he’d gone without sleep for days.

“I slept the whole way?” As she sloughed off the drowsiness, the events of the last twenty-four hours crashed into her. While her pills worked to stifle her anxiety to a quiet hum, they had no effect on her guilt over Hannah’s stabbing. Yet she couldn’t even manage to shed a tear like a normal person. What kind of a monster did that make her?

“You did.” He unbuckled her belt and reached out as if he were going to touch her, but instead he pivoted and put both hands firmly on the steering wheel. “I called the hospital to check on Hannah. They wouldn’t give out any information over the phone.”

A wave of grief washed over her. “What if she’s dead?”

“It’s out of your hands. You didn’t do this to her, so don’t beat yourself up over it.” He spoke with conviction but averted his gaze.

She couldn’t help feeling him withdraw from her. The words were obviously meant to comfort, but did he really believe them? She wouldn’t blame him because she didn’t. After the police had arrived, he’d grown quiet and solemn. Had she said something to offend him? What if he’d changed his mind about her?

Air. I need air.

With shaky hands, she threw open her door and stepped outside into the stillness of the cold evening. Jaxon came around to her side and put his arm around her waist as if he thought she’d keel over at any second. She wasn’t used to being seen as fragile, and frankly, she didn’t know if she liked it. But she accepted his help, and together they strolled down the path to the front door of his gigantic house. “How can you say it’s not my fault? She was attacked in my apartment. Because someone wanted me dead.”

He stopped walking and turned her to him. “You didn’t ask her to come over, and you certainly couldn’t have known someone would try to kill her.”

“She tried to talk to me at the firm. If I had only—”

“What? Been the one stabbed at the apartment? Forgive me if I’m thankful it wasn’t you.” This time he did touch her, the pads of his fingers skimming her brows and down her cheekbone.

“So you don’t think I should forgive her?”

He took her hand and led her up the steps of the porch. “I didn’t say that. Take it from someone who knows, the person resentment hurts is the one holding the resentment.”

Maybe her pills were making her brain sluggish because she was confused. “So you do think I should forgive her?”

“I think you should forgive her for
you.
Not for her.” He unlocked the door and switched on the lights as she stepped inside. “But forgiveness doesn’t require you to invite her back into your life, and it certainly doesn’t obligate you to take the blame for the attack. She chose her actions, and she has to accept the consequences for them.”

She touched her neck, but the pain of the bruise had dulled and did nothing to alleviate her stress. “And I chose not to listen to her earlier, which resulted in her coming to my apartment. So my action resulted in the consequence of her attack. I know you want to help alleviate the guilt I feel, but you can’t. I deserve it.”

He tangled both hands into her hair, forcibly tilting up her head. “You didn’t cry.”

The slight pain sent a buzz down her spine, helping to clear her mind. “What?”

“You didn’t cry. At least not that I’ve seen. You didn’t tonight, and you didn’t after finding Hannah and Tom together.”

“I told you. I don’t cry.” She tried to step away, but he refused to loosen his grip, which resulted in another tug of her hair. She stifled a moan. “You didn’t believe me?”

“I thought you were exaggerating.” He pinned her under his pitying gaze. “Why don’t you cry, Kate?”

She shrugged and laid her hands on his chest. “Because tears don’t change anything. All they do is make my eyes puffy, my nose red, and my head pound. What’s the point?”

“It’s a release. Everyone needs to cry now and then.”

“Not me.”

“There’s so much you keep hidden. Doesn’t it ever tire you?”

“Every day.” She didn’t want his pity. Not when there were so many other things she did want from him. “What about you?”