The Defender

“Let me get this straight,” she said to Heath. “You want me to convince my client not to testify against you. In exchange you will leave her and her son alone. Why not just kill them both?”

Heath laughed. Not that she expected him to answer that question. As an attorney she was ethically bound to report any crime she’d been made aware of. Worse, he’d been careful not to give Penny specifics about the threat he’d made against her. Yesterday alone she’d threatened to kill someone five times. Didn’t mean she’d do it. Right now, she had nothing worth reporting. Oh, this was a calculating man. He knew exactly where the line was.

“My offer is on the table, lovely Penny.”

“You realize if I try to talk her out of testifying she could get another attorney.”

“She could, but people might get hurt. With this sudden guilty conscience of hers, she couldn’t live with it. But, alas, you won’t let that happen. Too many lives at risk. Yours, hers, the boy’s. Even your family.”

Her family. She slapped her hand over her head, stared hard at Russ as a wave of emotion so raw and ravaging tore into her, made her skin burn. What would keep Heath from going after them? Her mother, her father. What about Zac, Mr. Predictable? He stopped at the same coffee shop every morning on his way to work. Every morning. Same time. Same location. One by one, this maniac could pick off her family.

Gently, Russ set his hand on top of hers and squeezed. “Breathe,” he whispered. “Relax.”

Closing her eyes, she focused on next steps. On getting this psycho locked up. Yes. That was what she’d do.

“I understand,” she said into the phone.

“How many lives will be lost, Penny? It’s up to you. I’ll phone you in twenty-four hours. Give me the right answer.”

The line went dead and Penny sucked in a massive breath, and the tight walls pressed in and the shiny white tiles swayed and danced. The phone slipped from her fingers, clattered to the floor. She’d have to sterilize the thing. Or throw it out. Russ bent low, scooped it up, and she scrunched her nose. The germs alone... He hit the button, obviously to be sure the call ended.

He shoved the phone into his jacket pocket and grasped her arm. “You all right?”

“I may throw up.”

“You’re in the right place.”

She nodded because, well, he had a point there. Only, she didn’t want to be on her knees in this bathroom. Who knew the last time the floor was washed?

The pattern on the wall behind Russ looped and swirled and Penny swayed. Massive head rush.

Grasping her arms, he held her steady. “Uh-oh.”

She leaned forward, rested her head against his shoulder. She needed a minute. Not even. Just a few seconds to let the dizziness pass and consider facing such a catastrophic situation.

Russ ran his hands up and down her arms, a gentle reassurance that allowed her to close her eyes—only for a minute—and get herself together.

Finally, she backed away, met Russ’s gaze. “You know he’s insane.”

* * *

“I DO KNOW THAT.” He squeezed her arms. “If I let go, you’re not going to face-plant, are you?”

Penny scoffed. “On this floor? Not on your life.”

A few minutes ago, her skin had turned that ashy-gray that preceded going lights out, and he’d take no chances on her smacking her head against the john and getting a concussion.

Slowly, he lifted his hands from her arms and held them out.

Only slightly annoyed at her own weakness, Penny waved him off. “He ordered that shooting yesterday. To scare me.”

“He said that?”

She nodded.

He snatched his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts. When he’d entered the shop, he’d had every intention of tearing into Penny for walking across the street alone. He’d told her the night before they were looking into the idea of either her or her father being targets and clearly she’d blown that off. She was damned lucky the receptionist squealed on her whereabouts or she’d be dealing with this Heath garbage on her own. In the middle of a crowded coffee shop, no less!

Crazy woman.

“Who are you calling?”

“My office. I want marshals on you ASAP. We’ll get Elizabeth protection also. How the hell did he find out she wants a deal? And why the hell are you walking around alone when you almost got shot yesterday?”

Penny’s face stretched into an appalled openmouthed gape. “You have lost your mind, Russell. I’ll go wherever I want. And I have no idea how Heath knows about Elizabeth. Aside from my coworkers, you’re the only one I spoke to about it. And I’m sure Elizabeth hasn’t told anyone. At least, no one outside her immediate family. And she’s so nervous, I’m not sure she’d have done even that. He said he’s watching her, though. Maybe he took a shot and got lucky.”

“Yeah, well, that lucky shot just earned him extortion and obstruction charges to go with his landslide of financial-fraud issues. And if I can prove it, murder. The reporter died this morning.” Penny reeled back and he held up a finger when Guy Hawkins, one of his squad mates on the CID—Criminal Investigation Division—answered. “Voight here. Where are we on those marshals for Penny and Gerald Hennings?”

“They’re on their way over. Should be there anytime.”

At his hip, the door lever moved. Someone trying to use the john. “One second,” he said to the person on the other side. He went back to Hawkins. “Good. Thanks. Put me through to Everly.” Russ looked back at Penny, who stared at him with dead eyes. The reporter thing rattled her. Rightly so. “Trying to reach my ASAC. Voice mail.”

Not a break to be had. He left a message. Only thing to do.

“Okay,” he said. “We’ve got to get out of this bathroom. I’m not taking you out the front door. Who the hell knows where Heath is, but he had a view of the entrance. We know that.”

“And what? We’re going out the back?”

“I’ll have one of the marshals pick us up in the alley. Wherever Heath is, he won’t see you leave.”

“Where are we going?”

“To find Elizabeth. We’ll stash her away somewhere. This guy is soiling himself over whatever she knows. And if he orchestrated that shooting, she knows enough to put him away.”

The person in the hallway knocked. “Only one bathroom, chief,” a man said.

Russ turned, yanked open the door and flipped his badge up. The young guy, the one he’d spotted reading a Sports Illustrated when he’d walked in, stared at the giant letters that read F-B-I and his eyes widened. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah,” Russ said. “Give us a second.”

The kid nodded and Russ shut the door again. Sometimes his love of flashing his badge was borderline perverse.

“I totally need an FBI badge,” Penny cracked.

“It’s handy. You ready?”

She nodded and Russ opened the door. Sports Illustrated guy looked at Penny, then to Russ and back to Penny again. His mouth curved into a sarcastic grin that Russ would have liked to pound away at, but hell, two people spending extended time in a single bathroom conjured all sorts of thoughts. Nothing he could do about that.

Penny stepped into the hallway and jerked her head at the young guy. “All yours. Chief.”