Love's Verdict Page 3

  “Now who’s making you sound like a dud?” Kylie punched her in the arm. “Seriously, Landon, I’m not saying you have to party all the time, but you should check in with your friends now and then. We all have jobs too, but we find time to keep in touch.”

  Landon flinched. When her personal life had gone south, she’d immersed herself in work and lost any sense of balance. “You’re right. I promise to be better. Thanks for pushing me to come out tonight.”

  “Sounds like you’re saying good night, but the evening is still young. Promise me you won’t duck out while everyone’s face diving your cake?”

  As if on cue, Landon’s phone rang. Reflex had her looking at the screen before Kylie could grab it out of her hand, and then she held it out of reach when she saw the name on the display. Mouthing I’m sorry, she answered. “Holt here.”

  “Landon, it’s Jane Sturges.”

  “Hi, Jane. Big day in Dallas today.”

  “Yes, it was. Are you up to speed?”

  Jane’s delivery was urgent and demanding, and Landon paused before answering. She recognized the tone and was certain there was a big ask coming. “I only know what I saw on the news. It wasn’t much.”

  Jane sighed. “That’s okay. I’m emailing you a copy of the arrest warrant affidavit. You can read it later tonight and email me your thoughts from the plane.”

  Tonight. Plane. Arrest warrant affidavit. Landon quickly digested the information. “Wait, what? Jane, I have a hearing in the morning and I’m at—”

  “I’ll talk to Greg and get him to cover. It’s time for you to come back to Dallas where you belong. Aren’t you tired of working behind the scenes? I’m talking possible partnership. You’re booked on the ten a.m. flight tomorrow morning. See you at the office. Oh, and happy birthday.”

  And just like that, Jane hung up. Landon stood with the phone against her ear as the party swirled on around her. All these people, drinking, celebrating, like they didn’t have a care in the world. Kylie stood at the bar a few feet away and raised a glass in a silent toast, but Landon was no longer sure what she was celebrating. Had Jane just dangled a partnership in front of her? In Dallas? She lowered the phone and stared at the screen. She should call her back and tell her she wasn’t interested in moving, that she was happy plodding along as an associate with no real future.

  Well, she might not be ready to move back, but the possibility of a partnership did excite her. She’d earned it, and if she had to go back to Dallas to get it, then that’s what she’d do.

  Her phone dinged to signal she had a new email and she saw a message from Southwest Airlines with her flight information. Kylie walked over with another drink. Landon shook her head. “Sorry, pal, but I’ve got to bug out.”

  “Let me guess. Emergency at work.”

  “Kind of.” Landon decided telling Kylie about Dallas would only start a protracted conversation that would be a real downer for the evening.

  “It’s your birthday, Holt.” Kylie pressed the drink into her hand. “These occasions come around once a year. Besides, I have someone I want you to meet. Do you really have to be somewhere tonight?”

  Landon stared at the drink. If Greg was handling the hearing in the morning, all she needed to do was email him her notes, and she could do that from her phone. She could sleep off the effects of tonight on the morning flight. It was her birthday and she’d gone a long time without giving in to her friends’ entreaties to socialize. She pointed at the drink in Kylie’s hand. “Is that for me, because this is the only place I want to be tonight.”

  Chapter Two

  Carly penned in the final answer to the crossword puzzle while munching the last bite of her egg white and turkey bacon English muffin. She unfolded the paper and set it, front page up, to the side of her plate and skimmed the headlines while she sipped the rest of her coffee. The headline about Trevor’s arrest took up most of the real estate on the front page, from the story of the arrest itself to sidebars about how the cloud hanging over him would affect the team’s chances in the upcoming season. Not giving a whit about sports, she skipped the latter and focused on the lead article, homing in on one key phrase: “Kincade’s attorney was tight-lipped, barely offering any information other than a ‘no comment.’”

  Of course they were talking about her. She couldn’t decide if the article made her sound like she didn’t know anything or if she was being prudent for keeping quiet until all the facts were out, but she had a feeling the reporter was knocking her for not sharing information. Jane never should’ve sent her to field the press on any case, let alone this one. Every day until it was over was going to be a media feeding frenzy.

  Carly looked at her watch. She still had ten minutes before she usually left for the office, but if she left now, she’d be early, and she could use a few minutes alone in the office before everyone else arrived and the fallout from Trevor’s arrest buried them all in urgent work. She gathered her dishes, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher. She brushed her teeth and examined herself in the mirror, taking time to brush her hair up into a French braid. She could use a haircut, but she’d have to make do for another week, until things settled down at the office. Satisfied that she was ready for anything the day might bring, she tucked her phone into her purse, gathered her briefcase, and stepped out the door. She’d just put the key in the deadbolt when a loud voice startled her out of her careful routine.

  “Ms. Pachett, I have a piece of your mail.”

  Carly plastered a smile on her face and turned to her neighbor, Eugene Jasper, standing at the other end of the hallway, waving an envelope in the air. She sighed. Good thing she was running ahead of schedule since interactions with Mr. Jasper—she always returned his formality—were never quick. “Thank you, Mr. Jasper,” she said, striding briskly down the hall toward him. “I guess the postman must’ve gotten our boxes confused again.”

  She stopped a couple of steps from him and held out her hand, but Jasper was not to be deterred so easily. He held the envelope just out of reach. “Nope,” he said. “Not this time. They knocked on your door, but you weren’t in. Guy didn’t give up easy, and I came out to see what the racket was. He insisted someone had to sign or he’d take it away. I remember once a letter came my way that I had to sign for and it was from the lawyer who handled my great-aunt Beatrice’s estate. Barely knew Beatrice, but I happened to recall how she always had a house with a pool—a big one, not one of those little, tiny things people try to squeeze into the backyards of their zero lot line houses—”

  “Did you say you had a letter for me?” Carly interrupted. Although part of her was interested in what had ultimately happened with Aunt Beatrice’s estate, Jasper ran long in the telling of any story and this one promised to be no different.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Jasper glanced one more time at the letter before handing it over. “Hope it’s not bad news.”

  Carly tucked the envelope into the side pocket of her briefcase and thanked him. “Have a great day,” she called out as she hurried down the hall, not to be deterred by the sad look on his face. No doubt he’d expected her to bust it open and read it right there in front of him. She slid behind the wheel of her car and let it warm up while she fished the letter from her briefcase. Before she could open the envelope, the phone rang. Jane. Carly sent the call to the car’s Bluetooth connection. “Good morning, Jane.”

  “Can you come in early?”

  “On the way now.”

  “Excellent. Landon Holt is on her way up from Austin, and I’d like to have a complete dossier about the case ready for a meeting at noon so you can bring her up to speed.”

  Carly froze at the name, and a memory of Landon working the room at last year’s holiday party surfaced. She’d left the event before meeting Landon in person, but the picture of her larger-than-life presence was fixed in her mind. Landon was one of those people who breezed into a room like she owned the place, oozing all kinds of confidence and charm—the kind of person w
ho took over without even trying. Carly had been curious enough after the party to do a little research and had learned Landon was the only daughter of George Holt of Holt Industries, a multi-million-dollar conglomerate of businesses ranging from housewares to clothing lines. More likely than not, Landon’s confidence came from growing up in a family where she had everything she wanted and more. Did Jane think Carly wasn’t good enough to handle the work on Trevor’s case on her own?

  “Carly, did you get all that?”

  Carly came back to earth at Jane’s urgent tone. “Uh, yes. Put together a summary of everything we know so far about the murder case and include any salient details about the allegations that resulted in Trevor’s suspension.”

  “And email her a copy of the arrest warrant affidavit,” Jane said, not bothering to hide her impatience. “There’s a copy on your desk. It’s under seal, and as far as I know, the press doesn’t have a copy yet. Let’s keep it that way. Don’t scan it, email it, or share with anyone outside of you, me, Mark, and Landon. Understood?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And if you could pick up Landon at the airport, it would be a nice touch. Get the flight info from Rhonda. See you at noon.”

  Carly glanced at the screen in her car, but Jane had disconnected the call. She should be used to Jane’s abrupt manner by now, but she wasn’t and didn’t think she ever would be. It especially irked her that she’d been demoted to the role of chauffeur. What was so special about Landon Holt that she couldn’t be bothered to take a cab or an Uber like any other Sturges and Lloyd attorney arriving from the Austin office? Carly started to steam over it, but pushed the unproductive thoughts away. She spent the rest of the drive to the office summarizing the case file in her head, so it would be easier to get it done when she got to the office, but until she saw the arrest warrant affidavit, she’d be hard-pressed to paint a complete picture.

  Less than ten minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of the firm. Jane and Mark had both been partners in top tier big law firms in downtown Dallas before breaking away to start their own practice. Their first goal was to develop their own style, and they’d started by purchasing and refurbishing a two-story, vintage 1960s office building in Uptown with flat lines and geometric accents. Carly loved the location because she didn’t have to fight the traffic and parking downtown, and clients loved the unique vibe of the retro space.

  She’d no sooner pushed through the doors of the office than she was assailed by Jane’s secretary, Rhonda. “Carly, here’s the flight info for Landon. Jane said you volunteered to pick her up at Love Field. What a nice touch to welcome her to the Dallas office.”

  Carly bit back a response about how many billable hours her gesture of hospitality would entail, and accepted the piece of paper from Rhonda, who was uncharacteristically friendly this morning. “Thanks. Jane mentioned she’d left the arrest warrant for me to review.”

  “Yes, it’s in your office. Top drawer on the right.”

  Carly hated that Rhonda had been in her desk drawers, not because she had anything to hide, but because she was careful to keep her office orderly. She refrained from saying anything. It was a few pieces of paper at most and unlikely to cause chaos. At least that’s what she thought before she started reading it. Carly flipped through the pages and then started reading again from the beginning. The affidavit painted a grim picture of Trevor, but that’s what these documents were intended to do. In addition to detailing the alleged harassment of Vanessa Meyers that led to his NFL suspension, it named her as the murder victim. Carly pulled out a legal pad and started listing the evidence.

  Vanessa had taken a few days off from work to duck out of the public eye following the round-the-clock press exposure surrounding Trevor’s suspension. When she failed to return to work as scheduled, her employer contacted her family, who used a key to access her house and found evidence of an altercation—smashed glass and overturned furniture—along with Vanessa Meyers’s dead body and the thin length of rope that had been used to strangle her still circling her neck.

  Carly made a note to get more details about the cord, and kept reading.

  A neighbor told the police he’d heard yelling coming from her house earlier in the week. When he went outside to see what was going on, Vanessa was standing on her porch, alive and with no visible injuries. She told the neighbor it was just more of the Trevor Kincade drama but didn’t volunteer any additional information and he hadn’t asked. The neighbor had not been home at the time the medical examiner believed the murder had occurred.

  The detective went on to detail how Trevor had been in town, not on the road to an away game, at the time of Vanessa’s death. In addition, they’d found pieces of rope similar to the length that was found at the scene in Trevor’s trash. Carly underlined her note about the rope. Not rock-solid evidence by any means, but when they tossed it in with Vanessa’s allegations that Trevor had been sending her threatening messages, and what she’d told her neighbor about the argument at her house, the police had convinced a judge to issue a warrant for Trevor’s arrest. Carly reread the detective’s statements several times. He made several references to the pattern and practice of domestic abusers, and while he didn’t come out and say it, Carly suspected he was talking about more than the threatening emails Trevor had been accused of sending to Vanessa or the argument they’d had about those emails.

  She made a note and then shuffled through the rest of the papers attached to the affidavit. Copies of the emails, which she already had since they were subject of Trevor’s suspension, and a search warrant for Trevor’s house, served at the same time as the arrest warrant.

  “Hey, whatcha doin’?”

  Carly looked up to see Keith standing in her doorway. She casually lifted a file folder and placed it over the affidavit. “Just some research. You need something?”

  His eyes roved over the interior of her office and then settled back on her desk. “Just checking in. Thought maybe you could help me with some ideas I have for pretrial motions in the Danziger case.”

  Carly recognized his code. He wanted her to volunteer to draft the motions and then hand them over so he could take credit. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t mind helping him out. Jane was smart enough to know she’d done the writing, and Carly knew she’d do a much better job than Keith for the client. But she had enough of her own work to do today and she wanted Keith out of her office before he spotted the eyes-only documents and used the information to impress his pals.

  “I’d love to help, but I’m under a deadline. I’ll catch up with you later.” She turned to her computer and started typing a random search into Lexis to signal the conversation was over. When she heard him leave, she pulled the affidavit back toward her and reread it twice. The cops had taken a bold move by arresting Trevor before they’d searched the house, and she wondered if they had other information they were keeping under wraps.

  Whatever it was, it would have to wait because if she didn’t leave now, she was going to be late to pick up Landon. Her initial annoyance about being called on to chauffeur had subsided into curiosity about meeting the infamous Landon Holt for the very first time. Would she live up to the hype?

  * * *

  Landon rolled over and reached for her buzzing phone, but instead she wound up fisting a handful of hair. Not hers. Her eyes flew open and she struggled to make sense of the tableau in her bed. Ivory skin, long limbs, and big bunches of red hair. The naked woman hadn’t woken up despite the fact Landon’s hand was still gripping her long tresses. Her deep slumber probably had something to do with the near-empty bottle of tequila on the nightstand.

  Guess I had a good birthday in spite of myself. Landon reached her arms over her head and stretched, long and hard, as the memories of the evening before drifted back into her consciousness. She’d gotten over being mad at Kylie for the surprise and, after a few shots of Patron, settled into some fun. Red wasn’t the first woman she’d danced with, but apparently she’d
been the last, and visions of an evening spent doing gymnastics all around her bedroom made Landon smile. Most of the rest of the evening was a blur, for which she blamed the tequila. Good thing Greg was handling her hearing this morning.

  Holy shit!

  Landon lunged out of the bed, her mind racing. Greg was handling her hearing because she had a flight to catch. To Dallas. To work on the Trevor Kincade case. For a chance at a promotion. All the lingering effects of the tequila burned off, and she started calculating. It was eight o’clock. Fifteen minutes to shower and dress, another fifteen to pack, that was cutting it close, but even then it was unlikely she’d make it to the airport in time to catch the flight and no way would she have time to check a bag. She’d need to pack suits, lots of them, and she had no idea how long Jane planned on keeping her in Dallas before she could make a trip back.

  Her car had a full tank and it was parked downstairs. If she hit the road by eight thirty, she could make it to Dallas by noon, which was within the margin of error for when she’d make it if she took the flight, waited at baggage claim, and caught a cab to the office.

  “Hey, baby, come back to bed.”

  Landon glanced at the forgotten bedmate and factored in another five minutes for making nice and sending her on her way. Damn Kylie for getting her in this mess. She’d managed to stay focused on her work to the exclusion of everything else for a while now, but all it took was one night of abandon, and she was back in a mess. This was not going to happen in Dallas. She would stay completely focused on the prize and that prize was a partnership, one that she would earn all on her own.

  Ten, not five, minutes later, Red was dressed and in the back seat of an Uber. Landon took a power shower and dressed for the road in slacks, a collared blouse, and driving flats. Traffic on I-35 was notorious on a regular day, but in her favor, most cars this time of day were headed toward Austin, not away from it, and she lived on the north end of the city. It was a perfect day to ride with the top down, but she wouldn’t have time to correct the windswept look before she showed up at the office, so she kept the top on and her foot on the accelerator of her BMW M5, easily darting around the other traffic on the highway. Once she passed Waco, she settled into a rhythm and started to reflect on what lay ahead. She called ahead to book a room at the Crescent. It was close to the office and had all the creature comforts. After she finished the call, the screen on the dash scrolled through the other numbers in her contact list. She saw the number for Holt Industries go by and considered calling her father to tell him about the impending partnership. She dismissed the idea quickly. She wasn’t going to Dallas for a reunion, she was going to work, and nothing would get in her way.