Two Years Later Read online

My lips part in shock at the bold words that feel so unlike Dana, but I sense the desperation in her. Reese and I share a look of relief, that this is obviously not a confession and he joins us, stepping directly in front of Dana. “What happened?” he asks calmly, his tone even, voice comforting, without accusation. He’s smooth and sincere, and that’s why he wins over juries, and me, for that matter.

  “He went to get us coffee and forgot his phone. I listened to his messages. There’s one from a Riley Smith at the DA’s office. I sent it to myself and I’ll send it to you.”

  “And?” Reese asks.

  “He’s plotting with them to turn on me on the stand.”

  “Play the message,” Reese says.

  She grabs her phone and I don’t miss the trembling of her hands. She hits the “play” button. “This is Riley Smith. We’re pleased you’re on board. We need a list of gotcha questions, things that will make Dana look guilty.”

  “What does he have on you?” Reese asks.

  “I can leave,” I offer.

  “No,” Dana says. “Your column fired me up to fight back. I want you here.” She looks at Reese. “He knows I hate my father. He knows I wanted to walk away from the money. He kept me from doing it. He told me that was insane. There’s nothing else.”

  “Then we have to assume he’ll make things up,” Reese says. “But we’ll be ready for that.”

  “What do you think he’ll say?” she asks.

  “What do you think he’ll say?” Reese asks, leading her to reveal something, I’m certain.

  “That I killed my father. He’ll say I wanted to kill my father.”

  “Did you?” Reese asks. I don’t believe that she’s a killer, and yet, I’m holding my breath, anticipating. I wait for her answer, afraid my relief was premature. Afraid Dana killed her father and that Reese will have Debbie and a guilty client on his hands.

  Not to mention a baby on the way he doesn’t know about yet.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Cat

  Reese and I are both staring at Dana, the window in our front living area now her backdrop as we wait for her to answer Reese’s question: Did you? Meaning, of course, did she kill her father. I don’t have to hold my breath long for her answer.

  “I did not kill my father,” she hisses vehemently. “You’re doubting me though. You’re doubting me or you wouldn’t have asked. God.” She shoves fingers through her hair. “I can’t even believe this. I thought you believed in me. Why are you defending me if you don’t believe in me?”

  Reese lets her finish her rant. “Dana,” he says calmly, “that’s the question every jury member is asking over and over during the trial. I need to ask it with them. I need to find the holes that make people believe you’re guilty and seal them.”

  “Reese doesn’t defend people he believes are guilty,” I interject. “If he did, I wouldn’t be with him.”

  “Do you believe I’m innocent?” she asks me.

  “Yes,” I say. “I do.”

  She looks at Reese. “And you?”

  “Yes, Dana. I believe you’re innocent. But what I need from you, is not for you to convince me that you’re innocent. We’re past that. I need you to give me not your best, but the worst of you, because that’s what I have to defend. What can your boyfriend say that will convince the jury that you’re guilty?”

  “I’ve been with him two years and my father and I had so many fights in that time,” she says. “I said that I hated him many times. I said that I wish I never had to see him again many times.”

  Reese takes that in without so much as a blink. “What I need you to do is go home and type up details on any conversation with him about your father that you remember. I need this tonight because Reginald is flipping, he could end up on the prosecution’s witness list, far too easily and quickly. I need to be ready.”

  “Yes. Okay. What about him? Do I still have to play nice with him?”

  “I can’t tell you how to run your personal life,” Reese says, “but he’s already betraying you. Be careful. However, I can say this: I’m going to ask him if he had sex with you on the very day he agreed to turn on you. I’m going to use the way he’s treating you to create an impression of a monster protecting himself.”

  “Then I’ll be nice to him,” she says. “You know, if you can make him pay for putting me through this, for killing my father, who I might have hated, but was still my father, the only living relative I have, then I’ll keep fucking his brains out. Is someone here to take me home?”

  “I’ll call and get someone up here to escort you down,” Reese says, snagging his phone from his pocket.

  “Do you want some coffee while we wait?” I ask.

  “Yes, actually,” Dana says. “Something warm would be nice. I swear I’ve been chilled to the bone since my father’s murder.”

  “Come with me then,” I say, leading her into the kitchen, and thankfully somewhere during our chat, my stomach calmed down.

  Once we’re in the kitchen, I let Dana choose her flavor of coffee, as we have several, and as we both doctor our cups with cream and sweetener, she looks at me and says, “Reese really loves you.”

  My heart warms. “I really love him.”

  “Women flirt with him.”

  “Well, he is Mr. Hotness. There’s a fan blog and all.”

  She laughs. “Yes. I know about that, but my point is that he doesn’t flirt back.”

  She has no idea how much this conversation hits a nerve. Reese is amazing. He’s so very good to me and I hate the idea of Debbie making the world think we’re broken. We are not broken. I shouldn’t care what others think, but I can’t seem to help it. I do. “I’m a very lucky woman.”

  “I’ve never been loved the way Reese loves you, obviously, since I’m now defending myself against the man I thought I might marry. Heck, I wanted my father to love me even when he made me hate him.”

  “You don’t think he loved you?”

  “I guess in the only way he could: by throwing money at me. I thought if I walked away from the money, maybe he’d see me instead. Maybe he’d be a real father. I should have.” She shakes her head. “I need to not go there. I start tearing up when I do. So tell me. What’s it like to have someone who loves you as much as Reese does you?”

  “Perfect,” I say. “It’s perfect like he is. Don’t settle. I didn’t.”

  “Nor did I.”

  At the sound of Reese’s voice I look up to find him in the doorway, and when his eyes meet mine they are warm with love. “Dana,” he says, seeming to force himself to tear his gaze from mine. “Your ride will be here any minute.” The doorbell rings and he says, “Or rather now.”

  Dana sips her coffee she’s barely touched. “I hate wasting this. Thank you, Cat.” She sets her cup in the sink.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You occupied my mind. And you’re a good listener.”

  She heads toward the door and Reese follows her while she sparks an idea for my column about what is real and what is a façade. I’m playing it out in my head when Reese walks back into the kitchen and steps in front of me, tilting my cup up to take a sip for himself. And as silly as it might be considering all we share, this act of sharing warms me and even goes so far as to heat my skin.

  “What do you think?”

  “I believe her. You do too, don’t you?” My brows furrow. “Or don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “But?”

  “There’s something the boyfriend can do to damage her and us. If she doesn’t tell me what it is and I get sideswiped, I’m not going to be happy.”

  “Yeah I kind of got that impression, too, but I think having her write out the conversations is good. Sometimes the tough stuff is easier to write down than speak.”

  He sets my cup aside. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Okay. Why don’t I like how that sounds?”

 
; “Because I don’t like how it sounds. Basically, your brothers believe that no matter what, arrest or no arrest, Debbie will make a stink with the press. And if we pay her off, she’ll come back for more if we don’t get a DNA test now. She could threaten to go to the press and not give us the test.”

  My throat tightens and anger starts to burn in my belly. This is already old. I’m ready to end this. “What do they suggest?” I ask.

  “That we find dirt on the attorney helping Debbie and use it to blackmail him to get out of this and take her with him.”

  “I think I’m a Maxwell in this moment, because yes, do it. They’re doing it to us. Make it end.” That need to end this builds again, taking root. “You’re trying to save me the pain of the bad press and don’t, you need to know that what I want is to not be held captive. I want this over. Give her the million dollars. I’ll write a couple extra books.” I try to duck under his arms.

  He catches me. “What just happened?”

  “I just want us to be us again.”

  “We never stopped being us.”

  “We can’t have this kind of thing hanging over our heads.”

  “If we pay her off we will have this hanging over our heads until that baby is born.”

  “Not if we sign an agreement,” I argue.

  “Give me a week to work with Royce and end this another way.”

  “What if she goes to the press first?”

  “I’ll start negotiating a deal to buy time. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I agree. “A week. Make it end in a week.” I think of the baby and wanting this over with before I tell Reese, and most definitely before he or she is born. “And if we can’t negotiate or bribe ourselves out of this, I need to out her in my column, and we need to just deal with the press and questions. With this trial, her gossip will be filed away secondary to it, and if you win, no one cares about her claims.”

  “Cat, what happened? You were okay, but I don’t think you are now. Did Dana say something that triggered this?”

  “I’m okay. I’m actually good. I was wallowing and feeling sorry for myself but now I’m back to fighting.”

  “You didn’t answer me. Did Dana say something that triggered your change of mood?”

  “Just that you’re perfect. And basically that we’re perfect, in not so many words.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will. On your birthday that will be very special, if you make this end.” I kiss him. “Go get the door.”

  He snags my waist and pulls me close. “What is this gift?”

  “Perfect, like us, but we need Debbie to go away, not me. I’m not leaving. I’m not wilting or running. She doesn’t get that power over us. I will out her which was my first instinct. We can handle it. We’re strong enough. You’re well-respected enough. You know it. You’re afraid of how it affects me and us. It doesn’t. So let’s do what we need to and handle it. One week. Let’s deal with this and end this.”

  “All right then. We end this in one week.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Cat

  Betrayal.

  Defined as: someone you trust, stabbing you in the back. As I sat in the courtroom yesterday that word stayed in my mind. The prosecutor painted a picture that was based on no facts but as a prosecutor the jury automatically trusts him. I watched Reese Summer, cross-examine the medical examiner, and get to the facts and it became clear to me that the prosecutor is going to spend this entire trial betraying the jury’s trust, and even that of the public he defends. But then why would the DA do his job and look for the real killer? He has Mr. Summer to do that for him. So I leave you with this: Deception is a lie and a lie is a betrayal. As you watch this trial on television, watch for the deception and you will find the lies. Until next time, Cat

  I finish my column while Reese works with his team and then I sit in on their game planning session over Dana’s boyfriend and his betrayal. We go to bed at two in the morning, and I wake up at four in the morning feeling like my stomach has rocks in it that are trying to kill me. Reese is finally knocked out next to me after working with his team on every surprise the DA might offer them with Dana’s boyfriend’s betrayal, and I cautiously, despite how sick I am, slip out from under his arm and tiptoe to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I’m on my knees in front of the toilet the minute I get there and it’s horrible. I want it to just be over. Finally, I lay back on the floor and shut my eyes.

  “Cat. My God. Cat.”

  Reese is suddenly on the floor with me and pulling me into his arms. “I’m going to take you to the ER.”

  “No. No, I went to the doctor. I’m okay. I didn’t take my medicine before bed. I didn’t think I needed it. I’m better. I guess I just fell asleep.”

  “On the floor, Cat. You’re not good.”

  I cup his face, and in that moment I want to just tell him, but his birthday is so soon, and I want this to be good for him. I want Debbie gone and she will be in a week. We’re going to make sure of it. “The doctor said this could linger for a while. I had bloodwork done. We know what this is.”

  “Olives did this?”

  “I’m pretty sure olives didn’t do this,” I say, almost laughing at the idea that olives got me pregnant because I’m a little giddy right now. “Let’s go to bed.”

  He stands and pulls me to my feet and then scoops me up and carries me to the bed because Reese really is my hero. I didn’t think I needed a hero, but he proved me wrong. He pulls the blanket over me. “Where are your pills?”

  “Kitchen. That’s why I didn’t take them.”

  “I’ll get them.”

  “No. You need to sleep.”

  He ignores that plea and takes off. A few minutes later, he’s kneeling in front of me and hands me a pill. I lean up and he opens a bottle of water for me. “Thank you,” I say downing the water and pill. Reese kisses my nose, and then stands up. He climbs into bed, pulls me close, my back to his front. “Next time, you wake me up. I’ll wake up anyway. I know when you’re gone.”

  I shut my eyes and smile. He knows when I’m gone. That’s a pretty great thing to say and I drift easily into sleep.

  ***

  The next thing I remember, I’m waking up and Reese is gone. I sit up and look at the clock, freaking out at the time. I should have been up half an hour ago. I race to the bathroom and Reese is already downstairs. He let me sleep, he knew when I wasn’t in bed, yet I didn’t know when he left. That feels horrible.

  I hurry to take a shower, and I’m dressed and done with my routine in half my normal time, thanks to waiting on my coffee until after I’m dressed. I’m about to exit the bathroom and I look down at my belly in the navy blue dress and my belly looks distinctly rounder. I consider it a moment and decide I’m the only one who will notice. Well, me and Reese. I’m not sure I’m going to make it until his birthday without telling him. He’ll know I’m not eating, I’m sick, my stomach is rounder. Maybe he’ll think it’s the illness. Thankfully I’m fine right now, probably because Reese made me take my medicine. With my purse and briefcase in tow, I head down the stairs with a deep need to see my husband that nags at me. I don’t want to lose him and I don’t even know why I have that thought right now. It’s hormones. I’m not going to lose Reese.

  I reach the lower level and stop at the bottom of the stairs when I hear male voices I recognize from the kitchen. “One week,” Royce says. “That’s fast.”

  “Cat wants this over,” Reese says. “I want this over for her.”

  “The DNA test will have to be on me,” Reid says, “but fuck, man, this woman does not deserve your million dollars. Let me tell her a low figure up front and the rest after the DNA test. We know the DNA test won’t come back as yours. That cuts your losses. If you and Cat are willing to let it go public, let me try to save you money.”

  “My brother, Blake,” Royce says, “is one of the best hackers in the world, literally. That�
��s why he gets paid the big bucks. He’s been out of the country on a job with the military and I couldn’t get to him. He’s back tonight. If anyone can get dirt on Debbie or her partner in crime to shut this down, he can.”

  “Then Reid,” Reese says, “don’t lowball Debbie to the point that she goes public before Blake can work his magic for us.”

  “The way to drag this out is to have you agree to a meeting, but tell her you can’t do it until next Saturday because of the trial,” Reid says.

  “I’m not meeting Debbie,” Reese replies immediately. “My wife is not going to have to go through that.”

  “I’ll show up in your place,” Reid offers. “I get it. I don’t want Cat to have to go through that either.”

  “If you’re meeting her, do your thing,” Reese says. “I promised Cat we’d end it this week and I have a trial. I need to just give you both that perimeter and have you make it happen. And this is a solid deadline. Cat’s sick and I’m not positive stress isn’t part of it. I need to make this happen.”

  “Cat’s sick?” Reid asks. “How sick?”

  “Asleep in the bathroom floor last night sick,” he says. “I need to end this for her and us.”

  I’m sure Royce is cringing right now and that, along with the deep worry in Reese’s voice has me hurrying down the hall and stepping into the doorway of the kitchen.

  “I heard everything you just said,” I say. “I’m not a delicate flower. I’m sick, yes, and sure this upsets me, but I think the longer we drag this out the more empowered Debbie becomes and the more agitated thus likely to go public. So yes, a week is our goal, but if it takes a few more days, I’m fine.” I glance at my watch. “I have to get to court. I’m watching a trial today and the defending counsel is standing in my kitchen when he should be on his way there, too.”

  Royce clears his throat. “I’ll be in touch.” He walks my direction and gives me a tiny nod before walking on by.

  Reid does the same but he stops. “Tough cookie, my sister, but that’s no surprise to me. We’ll get it done.” He steps past me and leaves.

  Reese stays at the island, waiting on me, and I battle this feeling of betraying him by not telling him I’m pregnant. He thinks I’m sick. I can’t tell him now before court but I need to think long and hard today about my birthday present. I cross to stand in front of him, my hands settling on his chest. “Let’s go win the day.”