This time, Jordan heard her best friend’s reply, clear as a bell. “Already, I like you.”
He flipped the phone shut just as Darcy reached the library doors.
Jordan angled her head long enough to see the expression on Darcy’s face. “I think I’m about to get arrested,” she said to no one in particular, not really able to take it in. “Will you adopt the dog if I’m convicted?” she asked Jase.
She didn’t bother to wait for his response—she was too busy putting her head back between her legs.
Chapter 11
“I repeat, I’m not here to arrest you. I’m just setting up a time for the meeting tomorrow.”
Jordan nodded but kept her head between her knees, looking no higher than Darcy’s black boots.
The boots turned to point at Jase. “Are you going to represent her?”
At that, Jordan did lift her head. “What?”
Jase sent Darcy a rueful look. “I thought I’d managed to keep my past in the past.”
“Give me a break—I’m a cop.” She looked at Jordan. “Remember I told you last night that Jase used to be an attorney? Well, he was one of the top criminal defense attorneys on the East Coast.”
Jordan stared at him uncomprehendingly, then made the connection. “You’re William J. Cunningham?”
“That’s my father. I went by J. Cunningham. And no, I don’t still practice, but I keep my licenses current.” He frowned at Darcy. “You know I’ve been out of the business for years, which means representing Jordan is not a good idea.”
“But you’re a jazz piano player,” Jordan said, her mental picture of him crumbling as she remembered the newspaper articles about the wealthy clients he’d defended in some of the nation’s most high-profile cases.
“I’ve always played jazz as a way to let off steam,” Jase explained. “The pub gig is more recent, though.” He noted the confusion that had to be showing on her face, insisting, “I’m out of that life. I chose to leave because I wasn’t comfortable with the ethics of the cases I handled.”
Jordan shook her head. “You’re not laid back at all, are you? It’s just an act.” Why hadn’t she seen the dichotomies? His easygoing attitude contrasted with his sharp intellect and the competent way he handled everything he did. She hadn’t seen the real man at all.
“I wasn’t acting.” Jase’s voice was calm. “I’m a pub owner now.”
“No one changes that much, that fast,” she said stubbornly.
“Dammit—”
Jordan’s cellphone rang, interrupting whatever he had intended to say. Without a word, he handed it to her.
She checked the caller ID—it was her mom. Obviously, her parents had seen the press conference. Jordan decided to let the call go to voice mail. If she answered now, her mom would instantly pick up on her distress.
“Yo?” Darcy waved a hand. “We’re on a tight timeline here. The reality—whether or not I’m fond of defense attorneys—is that Jordan needs a damn good one, and fast, and that means you, Jase.” When he started to protest, Darcy forestalled him. “You tell me where she can find someone as good as you, on short notice, who would be as motivated to help her.”
“I can make calls on her behalf to any number of old acquaintances. One can hop a plane—”
“—and be here by tonight and come up to speed on the case?” Darcy shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Jordan said irritably, “and I can make my own decisions.”
“Jordan?” The call came from the front porch.
Jordan recognized Ted’s voice. Damn. She’d forgotten all about his visit. “In here,” she called.
He walked through the library doors, dressed stylishly in chinos and an Egyptian cotton button-down shirt, finger-combing the damage the breeze had done to his hair. He halted just inside the doors, his smile of greeting fading when he saw the crowd in the room.
Jordan introduced him to Tom and Darcy, whom he hadn’t yet met.
“What’s going on?” Ted asked Jordan.
She managed a smile. “I may need a rain check on that tour I promised you.”
He frowned. “Are you in trouble? What can I do to help?”
“I’m fine. The police just want to talk to me again about Ryland’s murder. The detective in charge of the case is flying up tomorrow to interview me.”
“That’s ridiculous. Who is this asshole? He can’t harass you like this—I won’t have it.” Ted pulled out his cellphone. “Give me his number, and I’ll talk to him.”
“Bad idea,” Darcy said. “The guy’s just doing his job, and any interference from civilians will only make him more pugnacious.”
“Well, we can’t just sit here and let him run roughshod over her!” Ted snapped.
“We’re dealing with it,” Darcy told him.
Jordan intervened. “Jase used to be a criminal defense attorney, and Darcy is the chief of police. They’ll both be present to ensure Detective Drake doesn’t step out of line.” She rose to place a hand on Ted’s arm. “I’ll be all right. But I’m pretty slammed, so …”
“You’re betting your future on the legal expertise of a tavern owner?” Ted’s expression was incredulous.
Irritation crossed Jase’s face, but Jordan shook her head at him.
“There’s no way I’m trusting anyone else to handle this for you!” Ted stated categorically.
She tamped down her impatience. “Ted. We’ve discussed this—I can take care of myself.”
“But you shouldn’t have to, dammit!”
“It’s what I prefer.” She noted his increasing agitation and quickly added, “I really do want to have that coffee with you. How about I give you a call in a couple of days?”
“All right,” he said grudgingly, “but promise me you’ll call if you need my help. I’m not without influence, you know. I could bring some pressure to bear on that detective. He’ll think twice before treating you disrespectfully.”
“I appreciate the offer.” She guided him toward the door. “So how did you meet Didi Wyeth?” she asked, keeping her tone conversational. “Through your new agent?”
“Yeah, she was leaving Arnie’s office one day as I arrived. We got to talking, and one thing led to another. She mentioned she was taking a break this summer, so I offered to let her stay at my house up here.”
She drew him onto the front porch. “You know Didi dated Ryland for a while?”
“Sure, she cried on my shoulder about it. The bastard broke her heart. I think that’s why she’s taking some career downtime, though she hasn’t admitted as much.” Ted gave Jordan a stubborn look. “I’m sorry Ryland’s dead, Jordan, but you deserved better. You understand that now, don’t you?”
“Of course,” she said lightly. One of the movers came up the steps, obviously needing to talk to her. “I’d better go. See you in a few days, okay?”
After answering the mover’s question, she turned back to find Darcy leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded. “What’s his problem?” she asked, cocking her head at Ted as he climbed into his car.
Fragile ego, abandonment issues, lack of empathy for others, and maybe a tad too much transference during the therapy process. Not that Jordan could say that aloud.
“That screwed up, huh?” Darcy concluded from the look on her face. “Why don’t I just pull out a gun and shoot the son of a bitch. Put him out of his misery.”
“Difficult call to make, given that I’m in worse shape than he is.”
Darcy looked amused. “There is that.” She pushed away from the door frame. “The interview is set up for eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. You know where the station is?”