Temptations - The Complete Series Read online

  I fingered the sack that she had given me. I was anxious to get started, yet not, all at the same time. “Sure, why not?” I said.

  The two of us went out to her deck and she poured a glass of wine for both of us. “I’m happy that you’re here,” she said, her voice cracking. “Things have been pretty lonely around here without Jordan.”

  I put my hand on hers. “Believe it or not, I have gone through something that is somewhat similar to what you are.”

  “Oh?” Her eyes were red-rimmed, and I noticed that she had an open box of Kleenex on the railing of the deck. “What happened with you?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. It was still painful to talk about, but not as painful as some of the other things that I had gone through. “My mother was murdered when I was 18,” I said. “By a mass shooter at McDonald’s. She died trying to protect my brother, Christopher.”

  Jane nodded. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I guess you do understand what it’s like to have somebody who means so much to you just ripped out of your life senselessly.”

  “I do. I really do.” I wanted to tell her even more about what had happened, but it didn’t seem appropriate. She did seem understanding and easy to talk to, which was why I found myself wanting to share with her. But I always had a problem telling anybody about those issues, except for Dalilah. But Dalilah was different. She was more like me, even more than she would ever admit. She was somebody who was actively trying to avoid all her psychic powers, but I knew that she was naturally gifted. I saw that about her right away, so I bonded with her.

  “How did you handle losing your mother like that?”

  I bowed my head. “Not very well, I’m afraid. I was already dealing with another major tragedy in my life during this time, and I also had a lot of darkness that came from somewhere that I didn’t know. Plus, I was tormented, night after night, by spirits who were constantly trying to contact me. I was losing my mind, and, quite frankly, my mother’s death was the final straw.”

  She nodded. “It sounds like you had a lot on your plate. But you got through it eventually, right?”

  “I’m not self-destructive anymore if that’s what you were wondering.” I felt like I was lying when I said that, though, because my obsession with Slade would certainly qualify as self-destructive. Or, at least, it certainly had the potential to be self-destructive.

  “That’s good to hear.” She sighed. “This house certainly does seem different now. Even Bella has been wondering where her daddy is.”

  At that, Bella, her golden retriever, came out onto the patio and put her head on Jane’s lap. She patted her dog absent-mindedly while Bella whined softly. “See what I mean? She was never clingy like this before.”

  I closed my eyes and felt Bella’s vibrations. She did seem distressed, and I felt for her.

  “Dogs are resilient,” I said. “She’ll be wondering about Jordan for awhile, but hopefully she’ll get over it.”

  “I hope that I get over it someday, too.” Jane shook her head sadly. “I certainly do hope that these clothes help you find his real killer. I’d hate for Slade to get the death penalty when he had nothing to do with it.”

  “I’m happy that you haven’t rushed to judgment about Slade.”

  “Well, I know Slade. He’s extremely intelligent and doesn’t suffer fools gladly, but he’s good people underneath his bluster. He’s not as cocky and arrogant as these news channels make him out to be, that’s for sure.”

  I perked up at Jane talking about Slade in such glowing terms. Her kind words about Slade made me feel warm, and I was embarrassed that just talking about Slade was making me feel this way. “I agree.”

  I finished my glass of wine and rose to my feet. “Well, I thank you for inviting me in for a drink, but I have to get going. I have two little dogs that are waiting for me at a day care place, so I really have to go and get them.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Let me know how this goes.” She pointed to the bag of clothes. “I hope that you can get something off of them.”

  “Me too.” I wasn’t at all sure, however, that I wanted this reading to be successful. In fact, I was scared to death that it would be. But I had to do it, for Slade. There was something inside of me that was screaming that I needed to help him in any way that I could.

  Even if Slade never called me again, and I only had contact with him when he visited our firm, that didn’t matter. He was under my skin and was a part of me. There was no way that I was going to let him be found guilty if he actually had nothing to do with Jordan’s murder.

  That was a big “if” of course.

  Chapter 13

  That night, I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling. It was 3 AM, and I had been unable to sleep. No such problem plagued Bella and Gigi, though, as both dogs were in bed with me, snoring away while lying on their backs. They made quite a sight, and I was happy that I decided to bring them into bed with me and not have them sleep in their kennel.

  I hadn’t yet had the courage to open that garbage sack full of clothes, but that wasn’t what was bothering me. What was really bothering me was that Slade still hadn’t called. I didn’t know why I had expected him to call, but I did, I really did. I thought for sure that he would have called me the moment he realized that I wasn’t at the house anymore.

  Yes, I had become that girl. The girl who obsesses about her guy and lets her mind run wild on what was going wrong. I was second-guessing everything at that moment.

  I finally decided that sleep was not going to happen, so I got up, made myself a sandwich, went into the den, and turned on the television. I couldn’t help it – I wanted to see if I could catch some of the news coverage on Slade. I was a masochist, after all, even if I hadn’t indulged that side of me in quite some time.

  I flipped through the channels and nibbled on my sandwich, which was made of tofu cheese and oil. It was my version of a grilled cheese, and it always hit the spot.

  I found a morning show, which came on at 2 AM my time, as it was an East Coast show. The talking heads were going over some of the usual things on their agenda – politics, a bit of sports, movies, and a few interviews. Then they started talking about Slade’s indictment.

  “We have an update on the Slade Bridgewell case,” the blonde lady was saying. “The grand jury returned an indictment against him yesterday. Our legal analyst, Henry Cantwell, is here to tell us what this means.”

  I shook my head as the panel speculated about Slade’s case with the legal analyst, who attempted to assure the audience that Slade hadn’t yet been tried, even though he had been tried in the court of public opinion and had been found guilty. The entire panel seemed way too happy to report on Slade’s misfortune, and I hated them for it.

  I ended up changing the channel after a few minutes because I was feeling so disgusted by this panel. They might have been preaching “innocent until proven guilty,” yet they were talking about the whole affair like they had talked about Scott Peterson and Casey Anthony.

  I surfed through the television guide, finally settling on a movie on HBO. I wished that I could take my mind off of Slade and off of those clothes that I needed to meditate on, but I just couldn’t. I was so sucked in by Slade…I disgusted myself.

  Finally, it was around 5 AM, which was my usual running time. I went up to change and then put my two little girls in their kennel after I walked them and let them do their business. I was looking forward to this run, because I really, more than ever before, needed something to take my mind off of my issues.

  As I ran, I tried to ignore the voice in my head. Serena, the voice said, if you let Jordan in, you’re going to let them all in. You’re going to end up not being able to function again. Beware.

  I ran faster, trying not to let that voice win. “Yes,” I said out loud to the voice. “I’ll be taking a risk. But I’ll be able to get through it again.”

  Not before you self-destruct, the voice said. And who knows if you’ll survive if you do self-destruct aga
in.

  “I have to do it,” I said as I ran faster and faster. “I have to. If I don’t, Slade might end up getting the death penalty.”

  What does he mean to you?

  “Nothing,” I said. “Our firm doesn’t want to lose that case, because it will look bad for our reputation. That’s the only reason why I care so much.”

  Bullshit. You care for him far more than you’re letting on, even to yourself.

  I shook my head and kept on running. I ran to the beach, and my legs pounded the sand. I ran up the wooden stairs to the pier, ran all the way down to the end of it, and then ran back. I paused halfway through to look down at the surfers in the water and then carried on.

  Back on the beach, my legs carried me faster and faster and faster. I shook my head, trying hard to get that voice out of my head, but it just wouldn’t be quiet.

  “You have to avoid it, you have to avoid it,” I chanted to myself again and again.

  I ran from the beach to the street and eventually ended up in front of my house, soaking with sweat. I leaned down and put my hands on my knees and tried hard to tamp down the feeling that I was going to puke. I guessed that I was feeling sick because I pushed myself harder than I ever had before on my run, but also because my brain was so confused. There were just too many things that were fighting for my attention in my head space.

  I showered, changed, got the dogs, and headed to doggie day care before heading into work.

  I was going to avoid those clothes for the time being.

  Chapter 14

  When I arrived at work, Malcolm was waiting for me. My assistant told me he was waiting for me in his office, so I went there to talk to him.

  “Come in, come in,” he said. “And shut the door behind you.”

  Crap. Shutting the door behind me was never a good sign. Usually, it was a sign that trouble was brewing. Nevertheless, I shut the heavy door behind me and sat down.

  “Don’t worry,” Malcolm said. “You’re not in trouble.”

  “Good,” I said. “So, what’s going on?”

  He shook his head. “I have no idea why I didn’t look into this before, but Jane filed for divorce from Jordan right before he died.”

  I nodded my head, thinking of how Jane was when I went to see her. She was grieving. That was palpable to anyone. Granted, I didn’t try to “read” her, but, nonetheless, anybody in that room would have known that she was grieving. “So, what are you saying? That Jane is the ‘other dude?’”

  “It’s worth looking into. We have our investigators desperately trying to find the missing piece of that surveillance tape, but, thus far, they’ve come up empty. This wrinkle does make it interesting, though. We’re putting together a scenario where Jane and Jordan weren’t getting along, so Jane wanted him out of the way. Now, I don’t think that a tiny woman like that would be able to bludgeon a man to death, but she very well could have hired someone to do just that.”

  “I don’t get it. What would she have to gain by having him killed, as opposed to divorcing him?”

  “Well….” He leaned in closer to me and lowered his voice. “We also found things online while we were researching her background. She apparently filed for orders of protection against Jordan at least twice. They were both dismissed. We’re requesting those files and they should be in the office later this week.”

  “I see. Perhaps he was violent and threatened to kill her and she was afraid that if she left him…”

  Malcolm sliced his hand across his neck. “Yes. She probably was afraid.”

  “But why have him killed in such a way? She could have just hired a hit man who would have done it clean.”

  “Because this way it would be easier to frame someone else; someone like Slade. Think about it – if it were a professional hit man and Jordan was shot and his body disposed of, then the whole thing could very well come back on her. But, if Jordan was bludgeoned in his lab, and it’s known that only one other person had access to that lab, and that person was Slade, then it would be so easy to frame him. They can say that perhaps it was self-defense, but if Jordan was shot, it becomes more difficult. Slade probably wouldn’t have brought a gun into that lab.”

  “But would he bring in a baseball bat?”

  Malcolm shrugged. “Perhaps. Listen, this isn’t a perfect theory by any means, but it’s interesting. We’re going to follow it.”

  “I’m not buying it. She’s been so cooperative in giving me Jordan’s clothing. She knows that there’s at least a chance that I can communicate with Jordan, so why would she provide me with the material that would help me do that if it could end up implicating her?”

  Malcolm cocked his head. “Have you used those clothes yet to try to talk to Jordan?”

  “No. I just picked up the clothes last night, and, I’ll admit, I haven’t had the courage to try to communicate with Jordan yet. You don’t know how much communicating with the dead takes out of me.”

  “Well, we need for you to do it as soon as possible. If it works, then we’ll at least have something to go on. Right now, we have nothing at all.”

  “I’ll do it when I get home from work.” I picked up and fingered the paperweight on his desk. It was a crystal prism that he got on his trip to India. “Is our client going to be coming in this week?” I was ashamed to admit, even to myself, how much I needed to see Slade again. He hadn’t called, and I certainly wasn’t going to call him, so I was chomping at the bit to have him come into the office. Even being around him casually would be enough for me. At least, that was what I was telling myself.

  Malcolm smiled. “No, apparently he’s going out of town this week. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about that.”

  My heart sunk. “No. I haven’t talked to him for a few days. He didn’t mention to me that he was going out of town.” I felt jealous that Malcolm, or somebody close to Malcolm, had apparently talked to Slade recently. “Why did he go out of town?”

  “Not sure. I just know that my assistant called him this morning and he said that he was leaving town for a few days. He has that monitor on but he somehow managed to convince the judge to let him go out of town.”

  “I don’t understand. How did he get the judge to agree to that? Isn’t that your job to make a motion to allow that?”

  “It is; which is why the whole thing is surprising to me. He’s being monitored, of course, but, as you know, murder suspects aren’t usually allowed to travel freely without there being a court order. But I called the judge after Slade called me, and the judge confirmed that Slade was allowed to leave. I was surprised as you are.”

  “Where is he going?”

  “To New York, apparently. I have no idea why, though. The judge simply said that it was a family matter. I feel sorry for Judge Samson, though. Once the media finds out about this, he’s going to be crucified.” Judge Samson was the judge that we drew for this case. He was known to be tough but fair, which was good and bad for us. Since he did have a reputation for toughness, it was going to be difficult to try to get our evidence in and leave the prosecutor’s evidence out. But since he was fair, and wasn’t necessarily known to be a hanging judge, we felt like we had a fighting chance in front of him.

  New York. I suddenly felt the need to see Luke and Dalilah. I hadn’t seen them in months. They were almost ready to have their baby, and, after that, according to Luke, he and Dalilah were going to be married at her father’s place in Montauk. I was going to be invited to the wedding, he assured me.

  Then I realized that was just dumb. I was going to go to New York and what? Hope that I just happened to run into him randomly? In a city of 11 million people? That was silly, and besides, I had a lot of work to do right here in San Diego.

  “Well, I guess that Slade won’t be in this week.” My heart was positively in my throat when I said that. What the hell was wrong with me? I was going to see him soon enough, unless he decided to fire our law firm; which certainly was a possibility now.

  Perhaps he was
through with me? That would mean that he would be through with our firm, too, maybe. Maybe he didn’t want to face me anymore. God knew that a man of his means could hire the very best law firm in the entire United States, and, really, our firm hadn’t gotten too much into ramping up on his case. I knew that we were exchanging discovery with the prosecutor’s office and were trying to line up dates for depositions, while our investigators were turning over every stone. But we hadn’t gotten too much into the meat of the case, which would mean that it would be fairly easy for Slade to change law firms if he really wanted to.

  “No, he won’t. In fact, I don’t know when he is going to come in. My assistant is trying to get him in here, but he’s pretty elusive. Of course, it’s early in the case. Trial is at least a year away. We have plenty of time to get his case together, but it would be nice if we could get an earlier start.”

  I felt myself blushing. “I guess that I didn’t exactly help. After all, I was the one who was supposed to conduct the preliminary interview, and it didn’t go well, to say the very least.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over that Serena, you’re only human after all. Anyhow, what are you working on today?”

  “I’m working on the Stallworth appellate brief. It’s due in a matter of days.”

  Malcolm nodded. “You certainly do write excellent briefs. Well, carry on. But if you get the chance, I would like for you to revisit the Bianchi case. I know that Santino hasn’t exactly been reasonable, but, other than the Bridgewell case, the Bianchi case is the most high-profile one we have. We shouldn’t be taking that one to trial because the jury will send him up the river for a long, long time. So, Serena, if you could find a way for Santino to take that plea deal, then that would be incredible.”

  I left the office and tried hard to hunker down on the appellate brief. Eric Stallworth was convicted of large scale company theft, as he was convicted of stealing millions of dollars from his employer. But there were a number of errors that were made by the judge in that case, so our firm was angling to get him a new trial. The legal arguments were pretty clear, so this brief was easier to write than most.