“When?”
“Ironically, two weeks after this new trial begins but it’s been stayed several times. It could easily be again.”
“Who was the first chair?”
“He’s dead, natural causes.”
Royce stiffened at that news. “You’re sure it was natural?”
“Not only did the man practically inhale his weight in grease every day, the phrase ‘smoke like a chimney’ was created in his honor. He had a heart attack. It’s a reach but it’s what came to my mind on several occasions, so there it is.”
Royce grabbed his phone and punched in Luke’s number, before giving his brother the Sheridan execution and case to research. He asked Lauren a couple of questions for Luke and then ended the call.
“I hate that your brothers are being bothered with this,” Lauren said, her hands on the back of one of the chairs. “I hate you’re being bothered with this. I know you have work of your own to deal with.”
“They don’t question what I need any more than I question what they need. We have each other’s backs.” He pulled her against him, her hips to his, his arms around her waist. “And I have yours.”
Her hand settled on his chest and he doubted she knew just how much her touch scorched him, how much she affected him without even trying. “You barely know me,” she argued.
“But I want to, which means keeping you safe so I get the chance.” She shivered and he ran his hands down her arms. “Why don’t I start a fire before we eat? I noticed you have wood.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “I think I’ll go throw on some dry clothes.” She started to turn and paused. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do.” She hesitated. “Just... I do.” She rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.
Royce knew she meant to make it a quick kiss and then escape, but she was tiny and soft in his arms and felt more perfect than anyone had in a very long time. It tormented him to know he was deceiving her but he shoved aside the reality he’d eventually have to face and wrapped his fingers around her neck, holding her to him. His tongue pressed into hers, stealing one sweet taste before he murmured, “Hurry back. I’m hungry.” And if she wasn’t clear that he wasn’t talking about sandwiches, she would be soon.
Chapter Nine
Royce watched Lauren disappear into her bedroom, thinking about the senator’s insistence that she would dismiss a threat, and put herself in harm’s way. Sure, he saw her caution about overreacting, but he couldn’t blame her in the role she was in with the DA. Most importantly thought, she wasn’t under reacting either or pretending nothing was wrong. The senator clearly knew something he wasn’t saying, something he didn’t want Lauren to know.
Royce headed to the front door and unzipped his bag and replaced his wet Yankees t-shirt with a dry white one on his way to the door. He had Luke on the line the instant he was in the hallway. “Senators can’t give stays of execution,” Royce said. “I get that but”
“They can influence them,” Luke finished for him. “I’m already on it. I’m trying to find any connection between the senator and the Sheridan case, be it past or present, or both.”
“You mean I’m trying,” came Blake’s voice in the background. “And I’m already on it. Apparently, you’re taking all the credit.”
Luke grimaced at Blake’s comment and continued speaking to Royce. “As you can see, I’ve recruited help. While Blake works the Sheridan angle, I’m working on anything and everything the senator has touched in the past year. Are you going to tell him about the phone calls and the calendars Lauren is getting?”
“Not yet,” Royce said. “Let’s see what we come up with first.”
“Exactly my thought,” Luke agreed. “This whole secrecy thing just doesn’t add up.”
“Agreed,” Royce said, glancing at the caller ID as his phone beeped. “Speak of the devil, the senator is calling me. Text me when you find something out.” He ended the call and flipped over to the next. “This is Royce.”
“Update, son. What is happening with my daughter?”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to find out,” he said. “And it would be easier if we told her what is going on.”
The Senator grunted. “Absolutely not.”
Royce ran a hand through his hair. “She is going to hate us both when she finds out we didn’t tell her.”
“Then don’t let her find out,” he said bitingly. “Where is she now?”
“She’s safe.”
“Translate that to a detailed assurance.”
“I’m with her, out of her hearing range.”
“Well done,” he said. “I’ve got to head to a meeting. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
“Have you?” The line went dead.
Royce dropped the phone to stare at it in disbelief. Damn it to hell, he’d hung up. And without one single question about the progress on finding out who was behind the letters or what the lab had found out. More and more, something didn’t add up.
***
Lauren returned, having dried her hair, dressed in black sweats, a tee, and slipper socks, to find Royce stoking a fire that seemed to be on its way to a nice blaze.
He rotated on his heels from where he squatted, apparently hearing her approach, his gaze hotter than the fire, as it traveled a path up and down her body and settled on her t-shirt. He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest. Damn, she loved his laugh. “Lawyers have more fun?” he asked.
“Julie got it for me since I always tell her blondes have more fun. I told her the shirt proves nothing.” She motioned to the kitchen. ”I’ll grab the drinks. I’m starving.”
A few minutes later, they both sat on the floor with their laptops at the ready, their Reubens on plates. The fire crackled and rain splattered on the window in heavier taps.
Lauren took a bite of her sandwich and sighed. “Either it’s good or I’m just really, really hungry.”
“It’s good,” he agreed. “I haven’t had one of these in a long time.” He opened the container with his cheesecake and took a bite. “It’s good, too.”
“I’ve never seen anyone eat dessert with their meal instead of after.”
“It’s better than before, right?”
“I suppose it is,” she agreed and found herself considering him a moment. “You know, you really aren’t what I expected.”
“You’ve said that before the other night and then fell asleep. This time you’re not getting out of an explanation.”
“You’re just... different.”
“Different from other men you’ve known? From the politicians you work with?”
“Everyone else around me. I’m surprised you took the state advisor job. It doesn’t seem like you to want to deal with the politics of things.”
“I tolerate the politics, because I’m able to influence decisions that impact the safety of the public. I worked some pretty intense post 9/11 FBI operations. I don’t ever want the people of this country, this city, to see 9/11 happen again. And as I suspect you have done, I made the decision to grin and bear what I had to, to make an impact, or at least try. Frankly, I‘m shocked you aren’t working for your father’s law firm.”
She took a sip of her drink and set it down. “My father is all about money and power. That’s just not who I am. It wasn’t who my mother was either. Looking back, I think she chose to be a professor over a practicing lawyer to avoid the differences between her and my father.” She opened her cheesecake and took a bite. “Oh, that’s good.” She shoved her sandwich aside.
“Now look who’s eating out of order,” he teased.
“I ate half my sandwich,” she said. “That’s enough for me. You want the other half?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said and grabbed her plate, setting his now empty one aside and then surprised her by asking, “Didn’t I read you were engaged at some point?”
Her fork stilled in her mouth a moment, before she nodded and set it down, her gaze fixing on the orange flames of the fire. “Yeah. I was.”