Текст книги "Tall, Dark and Deadly"
Автор книги: Lisa Renee Jones
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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 40 страниц)
“I’m not your concern. Not anymore.”
“This wasn’t a fire. It was a bomb, delivered in a package that said it was for you. It went off, sitting on a table in the dining room; thankfully when no one was around.”
She gasped. “Oh God. I... I can’t believe this is happening.” Luke stepped to Royce’s side. “Julie. I need to make sure Julie”
“I know,” Luke said. “Kyle tried to get her to my place. He’s taking her to a well secured hotel. Her choice.”
She nodded. “Okay. Yes.”
“And you’re coming home with me,” Royce said.
“No. I’m going to stay with Julie.”
“Staying with Julie makes her more of a target,” he said. “You have to see that.”
“The police have to know about this now,” she said. “I’ll talk to them. I’m sure they want to talk to me. I’ll get protection.”
He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms, his face buried in her neck, lips by her ear. “I swear to you, Lauren, that if you don’t leave here with me of your own free will, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here. Hate me if you have to but you’re going to be alive when this is over.”
She was trembling with his touch, with the warmth of his breath on her neck, with desire to turn back time and have him be who she’d thought he was. To have them be what she’d thought they were. “I can’t. I just... can’t.”
“She can stay at my place tonight,” Blake said from behind her. “Then you two can figure things out from there.”
Royce pulled back to look at her, his blue eyes hard with determination. “Choose. Me or Blake?”
“Blake.”
His chest expanded and then relaxed, before he took a step backwards. “We have to talk.”
“No. No, we don’t.” She turned to Blake. “Please get me out of here.”
His gaze lifted over her head to Royce’s and held a long moment before he stepped aside and waved her forward.
Once they were in the Ranger, darkness and silence was all there was, until finally, they pulled into the garage of their building and parked.
They sat there a moment, neither of them moving. “When I was in the ATF I fell in love with a woman, another agent.”
Shocked at his personal confession, she turned to look at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was clutching the steering wheel, staring at the concrete wall in front of them.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I... knew that.”
“So you know she was murdered.”
Her heart clenched. “Yes.”
His head jerked around, his gaze piercing hers, even in the darkness of the vehicle. “If Royce had asked me if he should have come clean with you, I wouldn’t have told him ‘no’ but ‘hell no’. You would have done what you did tonight. You would have pushed him away and made it damn near impossible for him to protect you. And you don’t take risks with someone’s life, especially not someone you care about the way he cares about you. You risk their anger, their inability to forgive you, but you don’t let them die.”
She could barely breathe with his words. “You blame yourself. You think you compromised on something that cost her life.”
“I know I did,” he said. “I let her die. He’s been a wreck, worried you would hate him, worried about protecting you. And that woman on the machine was nothing to him, Lauren. Nothing. You are. He has a past but so do you. We’re going upstairs and you aren’t staying with me. You’re staying with him. If you want to sleep in the guest room, then so be it, but you need to be with him, so you two can try and work this out.”
She started to cry, the second time in two days and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried before that. She hadn’t even cried when she’d found Roger in bed with his bimbo. Mad at her weakness, she swiped the tears, and shoved the door open.
Blake met her at the bed of the truck, and they walked in silence to the elevator and then the apartment. She waited for him to search the apartment, and then joined him. She stood inside the door, trying to decide what to do, unsure how she felt. No, she wasn’t unsure. She hurt. She hurt like she’d never hurt before.
Blake sat down on the couch and she walked into Royce’s room, ignoring the rumpled sheets and the spicy male scent of the man she knew she loved, the man she’d always known would break her heart, and gathered as many of her things as would fit in a bag. She needed space, she needed to think. She needed trust.
She walked out of the bedroom, heading to the spare room down a hallway to the left of the master. Blake was watching the news, and he didn’t look up, but when she was about to turn down the hall, the television went off.
“Lauren.”
She paused without turning. “I meant it when I said ‘what if’ destroys. It’s the bitch of all bitches. Don’t give her a chance to destroy you, or my brother.”
Chapter Eighteen
Lauren’s cell phone alarm buzzed near her head and her lashes shot open. She’d dozed off and on, but true deep sleep had never come. She turned off the alarm, emotion swelling insider her. Royce hadn’t come to her, and it hurt, which confused her. She had told him to stay away. She wanted him to stay away. She sat up. Oh God. What if something had happened? What if he never came home? She shot to her feet, tugging her long pajama top to her knees as she hurried down the hall and rounded the wall, to stop dead in her tracks. Royce and Blake were both there, fully dressed and sleeping the two chairs they occupied reclined back, the television on mute.
Lauren stared at Royce, his long hair half out of the clasp at his neck, the long, dark strands brushing his handsome, tension etched face. She inhaled and started to tiptoe to his bedroom, where she’d realized last night she’d left her purse and makeup, and pretty much everything she needed to get ready for work. She crept into his room, gently eased the door shut and then rushed to the bathroom.
Minutes later, she stepped into the shower, the hot water pouring relief into her stiff, tired muscles. She lingered, taking her time, not eager to get out and face the day, most likely filled with police and news people.
Finally, she forced herself to turn off the shower and pulled the curtain back. Royce sat on the toilet. Lauren jumped and let out a tiny yelp. He handed her a towel, his eyes lowered. She accepted it and wrapped it around herself.
His gaze lifted to hers, his eyes so blue, so tormented, they stole her breath. “I couldn’t go to bed knowing you weren’t there.”
She squeezed her lashes shut, water dripping down her cheeks, off her hair. “I can’t do this now. Not before I go to work.” She stepped out of the tub and he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close. “I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you. I wasn’t about to let your father hold this over my head for the rest of our lives. I”
She shoved away from him, suddenly furious. This was about her father. “Right. You wouldn’t want my father to hold this over your head.” She pointed at the door. “I know this is your bathroom but please leave and let me get dressed. Please. I need to be alone.”
“You took that wrong. You didn’t”
“I don’t want to hear this now, Royce. I want to go to work and do what I do far better than relationships. I put criminals behind bars.”
He studied her a long moment and then scrubbed his heavily stubble jaw and stood up, towering over her. His eyes pierced hers, lingering on her face for several tense seconds, before he turned and walked away. She stood there, unable to move, in a puddle of water, and then something snapped inside her. She ran after him, rounding the bathroom door at the same moment he reached for the bedroom door.
“Consider yourself fired.”
He turned to look at her. “You can’t fire me. You didn’t hire me and neither did your father, Lauren. I promised to check out a threat. I fell in love. The end.” He turned and yanked open the door and left, slamming it behind him.
Lauren sank down on the floor and damn it, she was flipping crying again. He didn’t love her. No. And saying he did was manipulative and mean. She was so damn tired of the men in her life using her like some sort of token. She swiped angrily at the stupid tears she should be above and forced herself to stand up. It was time she took a real lesson from Julie, that she separated sex from relationships, accepted that the relationship part was better left for people who liked heartache, because she didn’t.
***
Royce showered in the spare bathroom and changed into jeans and a black t-shirt he’d left in his dryer, and was pulling on a leather jacket, when the bedroom door opened. Lauren emerged, dressed in a cream colored suit that grabbed the highlights in her long, brown hair and turned them to sunshine. Hair he knew smelled like honey and vanilla. God, he had it bad for this woman and she hated him. He was pathetic, the kind of pathetic he would have called foolish in any other man.
“Ready?” he asked.
“You’re taking me?”
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he said, and there was a bite to his voice he couldn’t hide. She had a fist around his heart and just kept squeezing. “You're stuck with me until I catch your would-be killer. Then you can kick me to the curb.”
She stared at him a long moment and then cut her gaze, her shoulders folding in slightly, that sunshine hair hiding her face. Emotion rolled off of her and punched him in the gut, twisting him in guilty knots.
“Lauren,” he said softly.
Her gaze lifted to his. “Yes?”
“Truce, baby. Today is going to be hell. Let’s be on the same team so we can get this SOB and make him pay.”
“Yes,” she said, a slight tremble to her voice. “Yes, okay.” She walked towards him but they didn’t speak.
They walked to the truck in silence, the tension between them so thick it might as well have been concrete. He helped her into the vehicle, their glances catching, the awareness between them crackling in the air. She still cared about him; he saw that in her eyes and determination filled him. He was going to make things right.
Fifteen minutes later, he parked at a meter in front of her office. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Aren’t you just dropping me off?”
“Not today. Whoever this is saw us fight last night, or I’ll gamble that he did, which means we need to send a clear message. I’m still here and I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to walk you in and I’m going to kiss you goodbye in public.”
“That’s... that’s not necessary.”
He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Lauren. I have since the moment I met you. I can’t be mad at your father for bringing us together.”
She dropped her head to his chest. “I’m afraid to believe you.”
He tilted her chin up, gently forced her to look at him. “Then I’ll show you and tell you until you do.”
And when he expected her to push him away, she whispered. “Promise?”
Relief washed over him and he kissed her, a deep, passionate kiss and it took everything inside him to end it. “I promise.”
“I’m not going to tell you I love you now,” she said.
“Now?”
“Not now.”
“If there’s a later, I can live with that.” He wiped smudged lipstick from her cheek. “The police aren’t involved. I used my FBI contacts and they claimed jurisdiction and sealed the file. No press, and I have a guy over there working this already. He’s simply no longer doing it off the books. He’s a good man. This will be kept quiet.”
Tension rushed from her body. “Thank you, Royce.”
“Thank me by being safe. It’s Tuesday. Your jury selection is still scheduled for tomorrow, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then, I’m going to work through the evidence from last night before then. I have a feeling our guy will show up for that. I have three men on the building. I’m one phone call away. If you feel even a tiny bit uncomfortable, you call and I’m here. I’ll take you home.”
Her phone rang, she dug it out of her purse and he watched her hit ‘ignore’. She glanced up at him. “My father. According to his five messages, he wants me to drop this case before I get ‘everyone killed.’”
For once he was beginning to agree with the senator, and for his own selfish reasons. He wanted Lauren safe. “I’ll walk you upstairs and I’ll pick you up inside your office.”
***
Several hours later Lauren had finally managed to focus on her work, and was deep in concentration when the buzzer on her desk made her jump. She hit the button.
“Lauren?”
“Oh God, I know that tone to your voice. Who is here that I don’t want to see?”
“Mommie Dearest,” she whispered.
“What? Why in the world… Sharon is here?”
“Oh yes.”
This was odd and unexpected. “Fine. Send her in.”
“Good luck.”
Yeah, I’ll need it, Lauren thought. Obviously Sharon wanted something. It was the only time she heard from the woman. Dropping her pen on the desk, she leaned back in her chair, hands settling on the arms rests.
Dressed from head to toe in Chanel, her skirt short and fitted, her perfume obnoxious, Sharon sashayed into the office.
“Hello, darling,” she purred. ”How is my favorite stepdaughter?”
“I’m your only stepdaughter,” Lauren reminded her.
“Yes, dear, and that makes it even more special now, doesn’t it?” She set her purse on a nearby chair, and moved to a decorative mirror on Lauren’s wall, inspecting her appearance.
“What is it you want, Sharon?” Lauren asked without any effort to hide her impatience. “I have a lot on my plate today.”
Dabbing at her lipstick first, obviously in no hurry, Sharon turned with a heavy sigh. “I want to talk about Brad.”
“Brad. The house had a bomb in it last night and you want to talk about Brad.”
“I want to talk about getting your life back on track. Clearly, you’re spinning out of control and taking the rest of us with you.” She sat down and crossed her legs. “And it seems to me that now, right after you almost got us all killed, is the perfect time to talk about real change. Quit this fool’s game you play in this place and get serious about a bigger picture. Your father is being urged to run for the Republic presidential card again this term. He’s seriously considering it, but to get the backing he needs, and that will be a massive cash influx, we must be solid as a family. This is a greater calling, a way to change the world. We all must make sacrifices, which means you have to stop this thing you do here and now. Battered women deserve sympathy, not the electric chair. You are making your father look bad.”
Lauren stood up. “This conversation is over.”
Sharon didn’t get up. “I’ve talked to a consultant who thinks you and Brad being pulled together by family tragedy the loss of your mother, of course, would be a story that warms hearts. It would show love found in the midst of pain. It would talk to the public.”
“Are you crazy? Is your consultant crazy? That’s practically incest.”
Sharon waved that away. “You lived in the same household for a flutter of a moment and you are not blood related. It’s a fairy tale.”
“Does my father know this?”
“Of course not. He is too stressed. I told him I’d do everything. I’d clear the path to the oval office and find the money. All he has to do is focus on his political strategy.”
“This ridiculous, insane conversation is over. I truly think you’ve finally proven to me you are not completely of this world, Sharon.”
“Sit down, Lauren,” she said sharply. “We are not done. Not even close.”
Lauren glanced at her watch. “I have a meeting with my boss in ten minutes. I need to freshen up and get going.” Grabbing her purse, Lauren waved towards the door. “I’ll walk you out on my way to the washroom.”
Sharon drew in a breath, her eyes blazing fire. “Fine. I’ll talk to your father. Expect his call.” She turned and marched for the door.
Lauren followed her to the door and watched her leave. “Queen Bitch,” Alice mumbled, standing up and fluffing her gray hair. “I’m going to the mailroom. That new supervisor needs to ask me a question.”
Lauren smiled weakly, aware of Alice’s crush. “Enjoy. I’m headed to my meeting.” She followed Alice to the hallway and then stopped in the bathroom, happy to find it empty. She paused at the mirror, her fingers trailing over her lips, her mind replaying Royce’s kiss, his words. I love you, Lauren.
She was just told to stop fighting for what she cared about, for what she thought was right and wrong in this world. Last night, this morning, she’d almost done that with Royce. The one person, other than his brothers, who had told her to keep going, who believed in what she did, in who she was. He felt right. He felt worth the risk. And he already had her heart. There was no sense trying to protect it. “I love you, too,” she whispered, unable to deny the truth.
Feeling remarkably better considering the threats, the bomb, and a stepmother who was probably mentally ill, she headed for the door when the fire alarm went off. Oh good grief, not again. These test runs the building did disrupted everything. She reached for the door and then frowned. It didn’t open. She tried again and it didn’t move. Dropping her purse to the ground she tugged with two hands. Nothing.
Suddenly, the alarm became a part of a new nightmare. What if the building really was on fire? Oh, God, it was. There was a fire, and she was going to die. She grabbed her purse and scrambled for her phone, then hit auto-dial for Royce. No signal. She hit every auto-dial he’d put in her phone. Nothing. She was trapped in a burning building.
Chapter Nineteen
Royce had barely made it back to his building and sat down at his desk in the Walker office when Blake sauntered in, his long hair damp and slicked back, his stubble dark and unattended.
“Nice shave,” Royce commented.
“I showered. I changed. I’m staying here today. This is as good as it gets.” He sat down at one of the four steel desks in the office, directly across from Royce, leaned back in his chair, and kicked his boots up on the top.
“Morning, angels,” Luke said, shoving through the door, his short hair neatly groomed, his face clean shaven.
Blake glanced over his shoulder at him. “Oh, yes. Morning, angel. Kiss, kiss, and cheery sunshine happiness to you.” He grumbled something under his breath and then said, “I just heard from my ATF contact.”
“And?” Royce and Luke asked at the same time, as Luke sat down on the edge of Blake’s desk.
“You know from last night that the package had an amateur grade explosive device,” Blake said. “The interesting part though, is that it had a timer. It’s possible that it went off at the incorrect hour with a malfunction. But,” he sat up, “think about this. A package that went off in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep. A snake that wasn’t poisonous. And this bomb wasn’t directed at Lauren.”
“Two days before she starts jury selection,” Royce commented.
“Right,” Luke said. “She hasn’t scared off yet, so the pressure increases.”
“This doesn’t mean she’s not in danger,” Blake said. “This could be some sadistic bastard who wants to torment her before he kills her.”
Royce shot him a glowering look. “Thanks for the ice water in the face.”
“Anytime bro,” Blake said.
“Could be a sick obsession with her,” Luke said. “This guy”
“Or woman,” Royce inserted. “It could be a woman.”
“Either way,” Luke said, going back to his prior thought. “He filmed her. He followed her. He watched her.”
Royce pushed to his feet and walked to the glass door of the small office, the only window to the street, staring out at the people passing by without seeing them. The clear way this person was stalking Lauren was eating him alive. “And we have nothing but a long list of suspects,” Royce murmured, half to himself, before turning. “We need an end game, damn it. We need it now.”
“We know he, or she, is after Lauren,” Blake said. “Make her bait. Set her up in the open in a way that doesn’t seem planned and bring him to her.”
“Oh, what the fuck, Blake?” Royce said, stepping towards him, anger curling inside him ready to explode.
Blake jumped to his feet and met Royce toe-to-toe. “End this, Royce. End it before this SOB ends it for her and us.”
Luke stepped between them, hands on both of their chest. “Enough. This does us no good.”
“Damn it, Blake,” Royce said, ignoring Luke. “This isn’t the woman you love or you wouldn’t say shit like that.”
”No,” Blake hissed as if burned. “The woman I loved is dead. I don’t want Lauren to join her.”
Royce felt the slap of those words, the instant deflation of his temper. He scrubbed his face and turned back to the glass door, pressing his hands to the surface, feeling more helpless than he’d felt in his entire FBI career.
“Let’s just eliminate suspects,” Luke suggested. “Sheridan’s brother is in Germany. He’s not our guy unless he contracted a professional.”
“Which means he could still be our guy,” Blake said, the chair creaking with his weight. “The one who can call off a contract to kill Lauren, if one exists. Anyone could have contracted a professional. That means the list is too damn long to do this. We aren’t going to get answers quick enough. Gamble on the trial. It’s about this week, about what is current and what is now.”
“Sheridan’s execution” Luke started.
“Has been minutes from happening several times before now,” Blake argued, “and nothing happened. This is about this trial.”
“He’s right,” Royce said, turning around, his gaze touching Blake’s. “You’re right. It’s about the trial. Everything else is a diversion.”
“The trial could be the diversion,” Luke countered. “I don’t think being short sighted is the answer here.”
“Who has the most to lose or gain from this trial or the diversion it might cause?” Blake asked. “The top three names that come to your mind, Royce.”
“The brother,” Royce said. “He hates her. If I had to gamble, I’d put his name in all three spots.”
“I put a man on him after you visited him,” Luke said. ”We have nothing to say he’s the one. Nothing.”
“It’s him,” Royce said. “And he knows he’s being watched. You can count on it.” He glanced at Luke. “Did we get his military record?”
“I’ve tried,” he said. “It’s being guarded tightly which tells me he’s a very bad dude, or he’s so damn good that he’s involved with some deep government shit.”
“Or both,” Royce said.
Luke’s cell phone rang and he answered it, then snapped it shut. “Lauren’s building is being evacuated. People are pouring out of it.”
“Lauren?”
“The crush of people is too intense,” Luke said. “Our guys are working with the building security and the police to locate her.”
Royce was pushing open the glass door before Luke ever finished the sentence, not about to risk New York traffic delays to get to Lauren. He dialed her phone, cursing himself for trusting someone else to protect her.
“I’m coming with you,” Blake said following on his heels. “If it’s a bomb again, I want to be there.”
Royce cursed and shoved his phone back to his belt. “Her phone went straight to voice mail.” He cut to the left and down the subway stairs.
“We have three men there,” Blake told him, keeping pace. “She’s okay.”
“I should never have left her with someone else,” he said, piling into the crush of people inside a car.
The next six minutes in the tunnel were hell for Royce. The car stopped and he burst out of the door and jumped the exit gates, Blake by his side. It was a block to the building and the instant Royce brought the fire trucks and police cars into view, he cursed and picked up speed, heading for the yellow tape and the gaggle of officials.
“I’m going in in case she’s still up there,” Royce shouted, his gut telling him she was in there, that she needed him.
“I’ll deal with the Robocops,” Blake called, “and I’ll call you if I find her down here.”
Royce targeted an entry point without officials and ducked the tape, wondering where the hell his other three men were. Someone shouted at him, but he didn’t stop. He climbed the stairs to the building, burst through the glass doors, and instantly spotted Kyle.
Kyle, who knew how to work his connections, headed towards him immediately. “It was a bomb threat,” he said. “A special team is already working the building.”
“Where is she?”
“Daniel got positive confirmation from a cop that she was outside but when he got to the place he was told he could find her, she wasn’t there. He can’t find anyone who even saw her. Daniel and Rick are searching the crowd. I was about to hit the stairs to go up to look for her. The elevators are shut down.”
Royce started to walk backwards, towards the stairwell. “Call Blake. He’s outside. Tell him what’s going on.” He turned and started running, yanking open the heavy steel door and charging upward. Every step was torture, another obstacle to getting to Lauren.
Ten floors later, he pulled the Glock from his ankle holster and eased the door open. Nothing. No one in sight and there was complete silence. His cell phone vibrated and he looked at the caller ID and answered. “Tell me you found her, Blake.”
“No, get in and get her out. This guy has proven he knows explosive devices. Don’t fuck around, Royce.”
Royce hung up and shouted, “Lauren!” To hell with caution. Blake was right. If there really was a bomb, time was everything. He was halfway to her office when he paused, hearing a muffled pounding noise.
“Lauren!”
More pounding. He ran towards the noise, and then, thank God, he was at the bathroom door and heard the sweet sound of her voice. “Royce! I’m in here! Help. Please, help me.”
“I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
“Oh God, thank you. The door is stuck and my phone won’t work and”
“But you’re okay?” he asked, his gaze catching on the wooden doorstop jammed in the door.
“Yes. Yes. Now that you’re here.”
He yanked out the wedge and tossed it, pulling open the door. Lauren fell into his arms and clung to him as if he was her lifeline. Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her, saying a silent thank you and kissing her. “Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him, his gun still at his side.
“What’s happening?” she asked from behind him. “What’s going on?”
“Bomb threat,” he said, pulling open the door again and inspecting the path before pushing her in ahead of him. “In other words, run, don’t walk down.” He followed her, ready for a strike from behind.
***
Luke was standing inside the yellow line, talking to an official when he saw Julie shoving through the crowd, desperately trying to get to him. “Luke! Luke!”
“I’ll be back,” he said to the cop, heading to the tape to meet her, the pale pink of her fall jacket flaring behind her.
“Tell me she’s okay,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm. The touch sent that familiar punch to his gut that he’d always felt when she touched him, magnified by about ten because he knew Lauren was all she had, because he knew how scared she was.
“Royce went in after her,” he said. “She’ll be okay.”
“Oh, God. So she really is still inside? They said there might be a bomb. Please tell me she isn’t in there with a bomb.”
“They just located it on the roof,” he said. “A team’s already tearing it down.”
“But it’s still live and she’s still in there?” Her hand tightened on his arm. “Please tell me they already disarmed it.”
“She’ll be fine,” he said, praying that was true, on edge himself about Royce getting the hell out himself. “He’ll get her out, if she’s even in there. If you want to help, search the crowd.”
“I have,” she said, swiping at a long lock of blond hair covering her face, her hand shaking. “I tried. I’ve looked. No one has seen her.” She inhaled and let it out. “I don’t... I can’t lose her.”
The vulnerability in her gave him another kick to the gut. He knew better than anyone, besides maybe Lauren, that Julie hid everything behind sex, sin, and a façade of cool, all of which were gone now.
“Hey,” he said, bending under the tape to stand closer to her. “You won’t.” He reached up and slid the wayward hair in her eyes behind her ear. “You won’t lose her.”
They stared at each other, the past between them, the passion, the connection, and yes, even the bad goodbye, sizzling into awareness.
Her perfect pink lips parted, then, “Luke, I... we...”
A loud commotion erupted and they both turned to the building to find Royce and Lauren running towards them. Julie took a step towards the tape, but then stopped and blinked up at Luke. Then, to his surprise, she pushed to her toes, and pressed her lips to his. “Thank you,” she whispered and then ducked under the tape to run towards Lauren.
Luke watched her embrace Lauren, savoring her taste on his lips, her scent on his skin while he did. And he knew right then that the wall he’d just seen come down had to fall again, and this time for good... and for him.
***
Hours later, when the bomb was disabled and she’d answered a million and one questions from law enforcement, Lauren walked into Royce’s apartment, exhausted as the rush of adrenaline slid away. Royce tossed his keys on a small table by the door and Lauren kicked off her heels, heading for the couch where she collapsed, thankful that her offices were closed the next day. Thankful that the trial would finally be ramping up for jury selection soon, and she could get this behind her.
Royce shoved the coffee table away and went down on his knees in front of her. “We have to talk, Lauren.”
“Not the talk thing again,” she said, sitting up to rest her hands on his chest. “It’s never good and I can’t deal with any more bad right now.”
“Plead the case.”
“What?” she asked, trying to scoot away from him. “No. You said you supported what I do and why I do it.” She tried to scoot away from him.
He closed his hands on her hips and held her. “I do, but there is a time when everyone in law enforcement makes a decision, for the safety of everyone involved. This is one of those times.”
“This is going to go public,” she said. “Too many people know what is going on after today. That means the public will know a plea is caving to intimidation. What message does that send about our system? And it invites copycats. I’ll be a target and make other people targets.”
“You already are a target and other people are targets as well. Plea, Lauren. Put her away for life and make the concessions to do it. Then let’s go away for a vacation. Rome, England, anywhere you want to go, and let Luke and Blake catch this guy.”
“I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this. I thought”
