him to warrant calling the firm’s heaviest criminal gun. Nathan didn’t take kindly to having his time wasted. Perhaps Jackson wasn’t in as much trouble as he thought. Once she proved or disproved that, then she’d know where to go from there.
“Sorry, I was out of line.” Her tone was much huskier than she would’ve liked.
“In hindsight,” Jackson said, “I know that taking her out was not a smart move. After dinner, she seemed calmer, and I took her back to her hotel. That was the last time I saw her.”
Hallie remained silent, battling a dull roar in her head.
“You know me, Hallie. I could never have done such a heinous thing.” His eyes were dark and pleading.
“I know, Jackson. That’s why you’re still in my office.”
“But I want to explain about Roberta, especially if—”
She held up her hand, cutting him off again. “Your personal relationship with her is no longer my concern.” He was free to boff anyone he wanted, including Roberta Klein.
“It’s your concern if you’re going to represent me.”
“I haven’t said I’d represent you.”
They stared at each other hard and long.
“Please,” he said, stopping just short of begging.
She heard the break in his voice and it got to her. Again. Jackson might be many things—he was a liar, for sure—but a murderer, no. A man with such a capacity for giving and loving could never bring bodily harm to a woman. So did that mean her resolve to not get involved was weakening? Heaven help her if it was. But when he looked at her like that, she couldn’t deny him anything.
“Look, I’ll take over for now, but only if you agree to meet with Nathan.”
“Fine. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“I’m not finished yet. If it looks like there’s going to be a trial, Nathan will have to take my place in the pecking order.”
At the word trial, he blanched, then asked, “Why?”
“That’s the deal, Jackson. Take it or leave it. I’m not about to jeopardize your life by my lack of experience.”
“I’ll take it.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What choice do I have?” A tinge of bitterness had crept into his tone.
“Plenty. For starters, you can go to another firm.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Hallie Hunter.” He paused, sighing deeply, though his features seemed to have become less gaunt since he’d won the first round.
“I told Detective Gomez I’d avail myself for questioning.”
“Are you talking about today? Now?”
Jackson grimaced. “I’d like to get it over with—if you can spare the time, that is.”
She couldn’t, but she would just have to make the time. He was right; to postpone the trek to the police station wouldn’t make it any less palatable for either of them.
“What’s this detective like?” she asked, unfamiliar with Gomez.
“He’s cocky and self-assured.”
During her court appointments on criminal cases, she’d gotten to know many of the ranking detectives and for the most part had developed a good rapport with them. But since she’d been out of the criminal loop for a while, she’d lost her contacts. This Gomez must be a new kid on the block or a transfer.
“Then, we’ll just have to un-cock him,” she said with her usual self-assurance.
For the first time since she’d walked into the room, Jackson smiled. The change was as sudden as it was shocking. Her breath caught as the flush of unwanted heat swept through her.
If he noticed her reaction, he didn’t show it, for which she was most grateful. “Are you ready?” she asked in as normal a voice as she could muster.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Hallie paused at the door and looked up at him. “Let me handle things. Until I know what Gomez has, we’ll play our cards close to our chest.”
“I’ll do whatever you say.”
Swallowing a sigh, Hallie squared her shoulders and walked out of the room, fully conscious of Jackson matching her step for step. As long as her commitment wasn’t set in stone, what she was about to undertake would be tolerable. Otherwise…
Hallie shook that thought aside as they left the building and headed for his BMW, hoping for the best and fearing the worst.
“Thanks for coming in so soon, Mr. Cole.”
“No problem.”
Detective Gomez turned to Hallie and extended his hand. After introductions were completed, Hallie decided Jackson’s opinion of the detective was right on target. Cocky. Young. And good-looking.
Gomez smiled at Hallie—a smile that rubbed her the wrong way, maybe because it was as smug as it was suggestive.
“I’ve heard of your firm.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hallie said in a cool tone.
He seemed to think for a second, then his smile disappeared. “No need to be defensive. Some of my friends are defense attorneys. Like Ernie Sanders, for example.”
“Mr. Sanders must not have been that good a friend, Mr. Gomez,” Hallie replied, “or you’d know he died last month.”
“Oh, that’s when he became my best friend, ma’am.”
Hallie stiffened at the direct slam, but before she could make a suitable comeback, Gomez seemed to remember his manners.
“Please, have a seat, both of you. Then perhaps we can get this matter cleared up quickly.”
Once they were seated in his shoebox of an office, he asked, “Can I get you something to drink? Some coffee? Or a Coke?”
Their “no, thank you” came simultaneously.
Gomez shrugged, then helped himself to a cup of coffee. He seemed in no hurry to bring this session to an end, despite his claim to the contrary.
Hallie could feel Jackson’s unrest. He appeared coiled and ready to spring. It was going to be an effort for him to keep his mouth shut and let her do the talking. She sensed right off that the detective and Jackson would tangle if there was no one to referee.
She would have to keep Jackson on a short leash; words said in frustration in a detective’s office had a way of taking on more meaning in the courtroom, and she did not want her client hanging himself because he got angry.
Silence. Two, then three minutes,
