See No Evil

SIX

“Late night?”

Connor Kincaid halted within arm’s reach of his front door, keys in hand. He knew that voice. A low rumble, quiet, too damn sexy. Slowly, he turned and faced her.

Julia Chandler.

She leaned against the porch’s support beam. As Connor stared Julia straightened, her casual manner all too brief, layering on the take-no-prisoners prosecutor image she had perfected. Top to bottom, she was a piece of work. Richly textured blond hair, put up tight on her head so no one knew how long it really was; aristocratic bones, long and elegant; a curvy figure hidden underneath sensible, expensive lawyer suits. And those legs. Those legs never ended.

She looked tired, and her makeup was less than perfect. Several strands of long, wavy hair had escaped, softening her pretty face. He put that aside. He didn’t care about her, her appearance, her life. She’d helped destroy his career, everything he believed in, everything he thought he was.

Yet Julia didn’t have the decency to stay away. No, she’d called on him to find her niece three years ago-begged him, manipulated him. Used him and his family. “What if it was your sister? What if Lucy ran away? Emily’s even younger. I don’t trust anyone else with her safety.”

Trust. Julia Chandler didn’t know the meaning of the word. But she loved her niece and the comparison to Lucy worked. Family meant everything to him, and Julia knew it, used it. It wasn’t the first time.

She stood here on his porch to try to manipulate him again. Try was the operative word, because Connor wasn’t going to fall for her plea this time. He’d heard the hot news about Montgomery’s murder driving back from the gym. If she thought he gave a shit, she was even stupider than he thought.

He should have said no the first time. He’d definitely say no now.

Tossing his keys back and forth, palm to palm, he stared down the prosecutor. He didn’t care how many perps she put in prison, how many rapists she went after or murderers she convicted. Five years ago, as a hot new assistant district attorney, she’d had his balls in her brass palm. Julia forced Connor to do something he’d sworn he’d never do. Squeezed until he turned in his resignation.

“You’re the last person I expected to be waiting on my doorstep.”

“I need your help.”

“Oh? I thought you were here to take me to bed.” He let his eyes roam from her head to her full breasts, down to her narrow waist and long, long legs. He wished he didn’t find her so damn attractive; it would be much easier to hate her.

She reddened at his obvious perusal and he gave a half smile. “There’s at least five hundred certified dicks in San Diego, I’m sure one of them would be more than happy to take your money and do whatever job you have.”

“May I come in for a minute?”

“No.”

“Connor, please. This is important.”

“It’s always important with you.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation standing here.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

The change in her demeanor was almost imperceptible, but Connor watched carefully. Her left hand clutched her purse, her right flexed. “If it weren’t for Emily, I wouldn’t be here at all.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t use Emily as a way to get to me.” Why did he expect better from her?

“I’m not, it’s just-”

“I heard about Montgomery’s murder on the news. I have no desire to get involved in a police investigation. Missing person? Sure. Bring it on. Emily ran away? I’ll find her. Write out the check and leave it in my mailbox. No need to show up here again.”

He turned, put a hand on his doorknob, hating himself for wanting to know why Julia had come to him. He wanted to go inside, shower, eat breakfast, and head back to the gym to work with the high school dropouts who thought gangs were the answer to their problems. He didn’t have a regular job, thanks to Julia Chandler, but damn if he was going to hide for the rest of his life.

“Judge Montgomery was murdered in his home office.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” He slid his key into the lock.

“Emily was found unconscious. The police think she tried to kill herself.”

He stopped, glanced at Julia. Little could have surprised him more. He’d kept in touch with Emily. Irregularly, because she was Julia’s niece. But suicide? Against his better judgment he asked, “Is she okay?”

“She’s in the hospital, but I don’t think she tried to commit suicide. I don’t have the doctor’s report yet.”

“Why do you need me?”

“The house was secure from the inside. She was apparently the only one home when Victor was murdered.”

“They can’t think Emily killed him.”

“They do, and they think she had help. Detective Hooper is in charge and he knows about the threats Herman Santos made on Montgomery’s life. Maybe someone threatened Emily, she had to let them in. I don’t know what happened. All I know is that Emily didn’t kill him. I know it. You know it. But I can’t be involved in the investigation. Stanton warned me off right away. But I am Emily’s aunt and no one can keep me away from her.”

The bastard Stanton didn’t know the meaning of the word family. Though Connor couldn’t disagree with his reasoning on this case. Julia had to stand back. Something Connor knew would be virtually impossible for her to do. “And you want me to do what exactly?”

“Stay apprised on the investigation. Prove Emily didn’t have anything to do with it.” She paused. “I hired Iris Jones.”

“That bitch? She takes pleasure in keeping the bad guys out of prison.”

“She’s good at her job. Someone needs to protect Emily’s rights. She’s already retained Dillon to evaluate Emily.”

Against his better judgment, he asked, “How did Montgomery die?”

“It wasn’t on the news?”

Connor shook his head.

“His penis was amputated.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Amputated?” he repeated.

“It was shoved down his throat.”

“Good God.”

“Gage hasn’t said it flat out, but I know what he’s thinking. I’ve worked with him and Hooper enough. They think Emily had help, that she let people into the house to kill Victor.”

“And you?”

“How can you even ask me that?”

“You’re her aunt. You don’t see her every day. She’s a troubled, closed-mouth teenager. You don’t really know her. Not anymore.” As he said it, he didn’t fully believe it. But Emily’s involvement was a possibility. It would be better for Julia if she accepted at least that possibility early on.

Why did he even care about what was good for Julia? Let her heart break.

Julia was angry but controlled it. She was the epitome of control, always keeping her emotions in check. Never rising to the bait. Always right, standing by her oh-so-perfect ethics. Everything was black-and-white in Julia Chandler’s world.

Her next comment surprised him. “You’re right. I saw Emily every week, but I don’t really know her. I should have fought harder for custody. But I’m just her aunt. I know the law. It was stacked against me. Crystal is a bitch, but that doesn’t mean a court will take her only child away from her. Being a bitch isn’t a crime.”

“I don’t know what you think I can do. I’m not a cop anymore, which I’m sure you haven’t forgotten.”

The softness and pain that had crossed Julia’s face when she spoke of Emily disappeared and the hard-nosed prosecutor was back.

“I don’t have to tell you that this is a sensitive, politicized investigation and I can’t have my fingers in the pie. But I’ll do anything to protect Emily. She’s my family. My only family. I want you to prove she couldn’t have killed Victor. I want not only doubt but innocence.”

“You hired Iris Jones. I’m sure she has investigators on retainer. Use them. Don’t manipulate me.”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you.” She stared at Connor, her dark emerald eyes full of emotion, imploring him. He hadn’t noticed the resemblance to her niece until then, but he saw it now, could almost picture Julia as a young girl, getting what she wanted with that determined look, those piercing green eyes. She wasn’t one to back down. He admired that trait as much as he despised it.

“You have contacts I don’t have, you can go places I can’t go. Please, Connor. You have to help.”

“Shit, Julia,” he whispered under his breath. “You’re a bitch, you know that?”

Her eyes darkened. “That’s what makes me so good at my job,” she snapped.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think about it at the hospital. Listen to Dillon interview Emily. Maybe that will convince you.”

“Dammit.” He raked a hand through his hair.

“Nine o’clock.”

“That’s twenty minutes from now.”

“I know.”

“Don’t count on it.”

She reddened. “I won’t.”

She turned on her heel and left.

Connor watched her walk down the stairs, head high, the queen in action. Damn, damn, damn. Working with Julia Chandler was the last thing he wanted or needed in his life. He’d finally been able to put aside the crap five years ago that had cost him his job, and she walks back into his life like a nineteen-forties femme fatale. Hot and sexy and too damn smart.

He wanted to say no. He wanted to throttle her. But in the end, could he live with himself if Emily Chandler Montgomery ended up in prison and there was a way he could have prevented it?

Besides, he was sick and tired of working for insurance companies chasing down fraud claims. Boring for one, but more than that, it was intensely disheartening that so many people in the world were out for the easy buck that lying had become second nature.

He went inside his small house and to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would clear his mind.

He pictured Julia’s long legs and the body that came with them.

Make it a cold shower.