Love's Verdict Read online

  “Rhonda, this is Landon Holt from the Austin office. She needs an office for the foreseeable future so she can help us out with the Kincade case.” She’d barely finished her spiel before Rhonda was out of her chair pulling Landon into a big bear hug. Carly knew her jaw was hanging open, but she couldn’t help it. She’d never seen Rhonda express affection toward anyone but Jane, and even then it was the kind of begrudging affection a drill sergeant shows for a just graduated recruit.

  “Landon Holt,” Rhonda exclaimed. “You look amazing. I guess Austin agrees with you.”

  “It’s good,” Landon said, meeting Carly’s eyes over Rhonda’s shoulder. Carly tried to read her expression without success, and she found a spot on the wall to occupy her attention, a distraction from the slow burn of Landon’s steady gaze. She resolved to spend the next hour finding out everything she could about Landon. First rule: know your enemy.

  “She can take the office next to yours,” Rhonda said. “Why don’t you two grab a late lunch and I’ll stock the desk with supplies while you’re out.”

  It wasn’t a question, and Carly balked at the command. For one thing, when had Rhonda become so fast and loose with office supplies? Carly stocked her own office with her favorite pens because of Rhonda’s stinginess. But the big thing was lunch. Rhonda knew Carly didn’t do lunch, at least not in the way all the other attorneys at the firm did. To everyone else, it was an occasion to eat too much and sneak a drink in the middle of the day, but to her it was the perfect opportunity to rack up billable hours when the office was quiet. Besides, after Jane’s bombshell, she’d completely lost her appetite.

  “Lunch sounds great,” Landon said, turning to Carly. “Do you have a favorite place?”

  Damn. Carly felt Rhonda’s eyes on her, daring her to be antisocial to the newest addition to the team. This whole vow of loyalty thing was beginning to wear thin, but she didn’t want Rhonda to report to Jane that she’d snubbed her pet. “Actually, why don’t you choose? Didn’t you used to live in Dallas?”

  The enthusiasm in Landon’s expression dimmed for a moment, and Carly smiled brightly. There was some weakness here, and she was determined to find out what it was and make the most of it. Suddenly, her appetite returned full force.

  “Let’s go to Sammy’s. That is unless you don’t like barbecue.”

  “I love barbecue,” Carly said, hiding her surprise at the choice. She’d expected something more posh. Landon gave off a carefree, rich girl vibe, which made sense since the Holt family owned half of Dallas. Which begged the question of why Landon was working in Austin in the first place. Carly mentally bookmarked that topic for further investigation.

  “Great,” said Landon. “I’ll drive.”

  Carly ducked in her office to grab her purse and took a moment to stuff her case notes into her briefcase in hopes Rhonda would view that territory as off-limits. She could imagine Rhonda making a copy for her buddy Landon as part of her welcome to the office routine. Notes secure, Carly paused at the door, pulled her lipstick from her purse, and applied a quick coat. Second rule: look better than your enemy.

  Landon drove a convertible, of course, and with a click of her remote, she lowered the top as they walked toward the car, insisting they take advantage of the unseasonably mild temperature. It took every ounce of Carly’s strength not to ask her to put the top up. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, she was certain her hair looked like ravens had built a permanent home on top of her head. In contrast, Landon simply shook her head a few times, and her blond waves cascaded down her neck like she’d emerged from a salon. Score one for Austin.

  Sammy’s was a dive, but it was also a place to see and be seen. Tucked up against the sleek glass Federal Reserve building, the restaurant was a rustic contrast to the rest of the upscale downtown neighborhood, but people in suits gladly grabbed their trays and stood in the cafeteria-style line for slow-roasted brisket, ribs, and homemade sides. Carly’s mouth watered at the sight of the ribs and the squash casserole, but in an attempt to avoid an afternoon food coma, she ordered lean brisket and a side salad with no dressing. Landon went all in.

  “I’ll have the rib platter with fried okra and squash casserole. And a slice of pecan pie if you have any left.”

  “Landon Holt, is that you?” the older woman behind the counter exclaimed. “Girl, you are a sight for sore eyes. Your daddy was in here just yesterday and I asked him how you were. He didn’t say a word about you coming back home.”

  Carly watched the exchange and caught that same shadow fall over Landon’s expression again. She was smiling, but judging by the tension in her shoulders, she was clearly uncomfortable. Was it something about the woman behind the counter or was it the mention of Landon’s father?

  “You know how it is,” Landon said, “He was probably distracted by business. Besides, I’m just in town to work on a case. Not sure I’m back for good.”

  She took the dishes handed to her and started to walk toward Carly when the woman called out, “Well, you be sure to come back again before you go. It’s good to see you looking so well.”

  After she paid the cashier, Carly started toward one of the tables inside.

  “Do you mind if we eat outside?” Landon asked. “I could use the fresh air.”

  Carly refrained from pointing out they’d gotten a healthy dose of fresh air on the way over, and followed Landon to one of the picnic tables on the patio. After they’d settled in, Carly started cutting her meat while Landon dove into the ribs like a member of the Donner party.

  She wiped some sauce off her chin and set down the well-cleaned rib bone. “I was starving. Guess I should’ve eaten some of the kolaches I brought to the office.”

  “They were a hit,” Carly said dryly.

  “I noticed you didn’t touch them.” Landon picked up another rib and pointed it at Carly’s plate. “Are you on a diet or something?”

  “I don’t know that I’d call it a diet per se. I just try to eat like it’s one of many meals and not my last.”

  “Ouch.”

  Her words had come out harsher than she’d intended, but Carly couldn’t help it. She found Landon’s facade of living life with total abandon annoying—driving with the top down, not even thinking about calling to say she was driving instead of flying, gorging on a massive plate of greasy, fattening food. How was she supposed to work with this person?

  Get a grip. You’re going to have to make it work. She fished around for a topic that would get Landon talking but wouldn’t simultaneously drive her crazy. “You seem to know a lot of people in Dallas. How long has it been since you lived here?”

  “A while.” Landon shoveled into her fried okra. “How about you? Are you a native?”

  “No.” Carly considered leaving it at that. After all, it wasn’t like Landon was sharing any personal details. But after a few beats of silence, Carly decided that maybe if she opened up a little, Landon might do the same. “I went to law school at Baylor. I interviewed with Jane and Mark the summer after graduation and moved up here after I took the bar.”

  “Good school.”

  “Yes, it is.” Carly pushed her salad around the plate. “How about you? Where did you go to school?”

  “UT Law School.”

  The statement was short and simple, but Landon’s tone conveyed a level of annoyance Carly would never have associated with the carefree attitude she’d witnessed thus far. “Let me guess, you’re a legacy.”

  “Not even. All the Holts go to Harvard. It’s a thing.” Landon picked up her fork and stabbed a stack of okra and shoved it toward Carly. “Try this. It’s a vegetable, but I can guarantee it tastes a million times better than that pile of wimpy greens on your plate.”

  Carly filed Landon’s cryptic answer away and scrunched her nose at the forkful of okra. The truth was it smelled divine. Fried food always did, which was why she stayed far away if she could help it. But here it was being force-fed to her. Telling herself that accepting one bite was
a harmless way of breaking down the barrier between her and her opponent, she smiled, reached for the fork, and crunched down on the salty, crispy no longer a vegetable vegetable, barely holding back a moan.

  “It’s amazing, right?”

  Carly nodded. The okra was delicious, but it was Landon’s broad smile that caught her attention. She needed to watch that smile because it wasn’t real. They were rivals, and she would do well to remember that only one of them was going to become partner, and no amount of crispy, delicious fried goodness or sexy smiles would deter her from her goal.

  * * *

  Landon transferred the files to one arm and shoved the key card in the slot of her hotel room door for the fifth time. Finally, the little green light appeared and she pushed her way into the room. The king-sized bed with its half dozen pillows beckoned, but she had hours of work ahead before she could rest.

  She picked up the phone and dialed room service, ordering a burger, fries, and a large pot of coffee. She’d spent the hours since lunch poring over the full case file and had made copies of the documents she wanted to review further while she did some online research here in the hotel. Rhonda had arranged for her to move to one of the hotel’s executive condominiums tomorrow, but tonight she was grateful for the full service the main building had to offer. Landon had no idea how long the firm intended to pay for her digs, but she’d been too tired from the drive and the full day of work to ask. She had a ton of questions about being called back to Dallas, but today hadn’t been the day for questions. It had been the day to size up her competition.

  Carly Pachett was pretty, smart, and way too high-strung. Who eats a salad at a barbecue place? And she’d obviously been put out at riding around in a convertible, so much so that Landon had driven an extra few blocks out of the way just to prolong her agony, which she admitted now hadn’t really been a nice thing to do. But being nice wasn’t part of Mission Get the Partnership. It was time to put aside her natural instinct to make friends with everyone and step up to win this race. She cracked the files and resolved to win, no matter what the cost.

  Chapter Four

  The next day at eleven thirty a.m., Landon ducked past the press into the restaurant and was ushered to a private room. She pointed at the table, which was empty except for Jane. “Where is everyone?”

  “You’re late?”

  She chose a seat on Jane’s right side. “Sorry, I was reading a case on Lexis, and lost track of time.” To her credit, it looked like she’d beaten Carly to the restaurant. Plus one in her column. “Where’s Trevor?”

  “I asked him to join us at noon, so we’d have time to talk before he arrived,” Jane said. “I figured that would give you and Carly time to bring me up to speed on what you’ve learned about the case so far.”

  Landon looked across the table at the other empty seats. “I guess you’d like to wait until Carly gets here before we start?”

  “Actually, she got here before I did. She just stepped out to call Trevor and let him know where we’re meeting, but she’s back now.” Jane pointed toward the door.

  Landon watched Carly walk toward them, her stride confident and her face impassive. The complete opposite of Landon’s rushed entrance moments before. In fact, Carly’s entire appearance was a stark contrast to hers. Carly’s black suit was stiff, dark, and somber whereas Landon’s light gray slacks and cornflower blue collared shirt was more laid-back and gave her a pop of color. Carly wore minimal jewelry—a simple silver chain around her neck, a plain silver band on her right ring finger, and a basic silver watch. Landon’s watch was the latest design from Shinola, and she wore several rings, including a large lapis stone she’d purchased on a vacation in Santa Fe. She’d bet big money that Carly considered vacations frivolous.

  “We don’t have much time left,” Jane said, “So let’s get started. Landon, Carly was telling us some information she’d managed to unearth about possible extraneous offenses. Carly?”

  Carly nodded at Jane and consulted her iPad. “We all know about the most recent case with Vanessa Meyers.” She turned to Landon. “Vanessa told police that while Trevor was traveling during the off-season, she started getting emails from him, accusing her of cheating on him. The emails ramped up and words like slut and whore were tossed around. The last email, the one that caused the NFL to impose the suspension, told her to just break things off or there would be dire consequences. The email was sent from a computer in a hotel business center near the team’s practice center. The league has taken a firm stance on actual violence recently, but threats without more was something else entirely. To avoid bad press, they took a hard line and suspended Trevor, but we won the first round by alleging they didn’t have proof Trevor actually sent the emails.”

  “This is all in the file. Is there a reason you’re repeating it?” Landon asked.

  “Context. Something about the way the arrest warrant affidavit read made me think the police have reason to suspect Trevor has a history of threatening women. I contacted Skye and asked her to check Houston PD for any police reports that listed Trevor as either the complainant or defendant. She found two calls.” Carly swiped to the next page on her iPad. “In the first one, Trevor called 911 because his girlfriend at the time, Jocelyn Aubrey, was behaving erratically, accusing him of being an ass for ghosting her. She’d been drinking, and the police offered to arrest her for public intoxication, but Trevor asked them not to and had someone drive her home. The second call, a month later, Jocelyn dialed 911when she opened her back door and found a pile of clothes burning on the steps. She told the police she recognized a shirt in the fire as one she’d left at Trevor’s house when they’d been dating. The police questioned Trevor, but he said he knew nothing about it, and his alibi that he’d been traveling at the time checked out solid. Jocelyn didn’t press the issue and no case was ever opened. Since they didn’t make any arrests, there isn’t much to the record, but there might be some portion of the report that we don’t have access to.”

  “Sounds like a bad Dateline episode,” Landon chimed in. When Jane frowned, she protested. “Everyone always looks at the boyfriend first, and even when there’s no proof of any wrongdoing, a cloud of suspicion looms over them and follows wherever they go. But why wasn’t any of this in the arrest warrant affidavit?”

  Carly cleared her throat. “Probably because they didn’t want to tip us off or distract the judge with sketchy facts. The bigger question is why Dallas hired him if they knew about all this.”

  “One word,” Landon replied. “Touchdowns. Trevor is one of the best wide receivers in the league. He could sell fake stocks to little old ladies, and this team would have traded for him because they need a winning season.”

  “Investment fraud is a far cry from murder.” Carly edged back in her chair as she delivered the words like she wanted to get as far from Landon as she could.

  But Landon wasn’t having it. She leaned forward. “He’s not a murderer until they prove he did it. If you’re going to start with the premise he did it, then they’ve won already.”

  “Hey,” Jane said in a hissed whisper, “let’s take it down a notch. First, when I said I wanted you two to work on this case, I meant you’d be working on the same side. Second, everything is on the table here—all theories and opinions are fair game. We don’t rule anything out until we can rule everything out. Understood?”

  Landon glanced at Carly and read her reluctance to agree. She was reluctant too. How was she supposed to work with someone who so clearly didn’t get it? Did Carly even have any experience working on criminal cases? Landon made a mental note to extend her digging on this case into her trial partner’s background, but for the moment, she made a strategic decision to step up. “I understand.” She thrust a hand at Carly. “Let’s make this work.”

  Carly looked at Landon’s hand like she was holding a knife, but after an uncomfortable few seconds, she gripped it in her own. Her hands were warm and her grip was strong, both details that surprised Land
on, and she let slip a slight smile that Carly almost returned. Before she could analyze whether their truce was real, Trevor walked up with a beautiful woman by his side. Landon’s first thought was new girlfriend, bad optics, but she plastered a smile on her face.

  Everyone at the table stood and greeted the new arrivals. When Jane introduced the woman as Shelby Cross, Trevor’s agent, Landon breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, Shelby was a helluva lot friendlier than Carly, otherwise there was going to be a whole lot of tension in the room. After an awkward moment where Landon had to snag the waiter to get him to bring another chair since obviously no one expected Trevor to show up with his agent in tow, they all ordered and settled in to talk about the case.

  Jane started off. “Before we get into any details, Trevor, I have to tell you that anything you say to us is privileged and we can’t be forced to reveal it unless you tell us about a crime you’re about to commit—”

  “As if,” Shelby huffed. “Trevor is no criminal.”

  “Or if you tell us something in the presence of third parties who we do not represent.” Jane finished her admonition with her eyes squarely on Shelby.

  Trevor shook his head. “Shelby’s been with me since the beginning. Anything you have to tell me, you can say in front of her.”

  “Actually, it’s more a matter of what you have to tell us,” Carly piped in. “If you tell us about incriminating evidence, then we can be forced to divulge the information if no reasonable expectation of privacy is assumed.”

  Shelby stared hard at Carly and then turned to Landon. “What about you? Do you speak English?”