Kansas City Countdown

“Oh, Kenna.” Hellie’s gaze traveled with unabashed pity over the wounds on her face. But when he reached out to touch one, she turned away to open the envelope and pull out the letter inside. “I’m so sorry. Amnesia on top of being cut up like this? Will you have scars?”

Kenna’s fingers flew to the stiches and glue as she clutched the folded paper to her chest. She hadn’t even thought about disfigurement. Wasn’t the memory loss enough of a burden to bear?

“It’s a good thing you got Dr. Colbern off that murder charge. Maybe he can repay you with a little plastic surgery.” Hellie chuckled at the inside joke Kenna didn’t get. “Oh, come on. Andrew Colbern? Cosmetic surgeon? His wife accused him of hiring someone to have her killed? You proved the woman wrong, of course. Made the firm a tidy sum of money.”

Of course? She’d defended this Dr. Colbern? Did she make a habit of defending would-be murderers? According to a few of Keir’s comments, he thought the doctor was guilty. Yet she’d gotten Colbern off. That sort of history could go a long way toward explaining why a cop like Keir Watson might consider her an enemy.

Curious to ask those questions of Keir and confirm her suspicion, Kenna set aside the papers and unzipped the overnight bag. She dug through underwear, running shoes and yoga pants inside. But as soon as she’d located the cosmetics bag and pulled out a compact, she hesitated. Clutching the small bag to her chest, she turned to face Helmut. But it wasn’t the fear of looking at her reflection that gave her pause, or even his crude remark about needing a plastic surgeon. Why would a coworker be her emergency contact? Didn’t she have a family? Personal friends? A boyfriend? Why had she chosen to rely on this man? Because, frankly, he wouldn’t be her first choice for a confidant if this uncomfortable meeting had been their first. “How do you have access to my personal things? Are we...?”

Hellie laughed. “You and me? Oh, honey, no. It’s not for lack of trying, though. After my divorce, I thought maybe the two of us could hook up...” His good humor faded. “You don’t remember that, either? We’ve served as each other’s escorts to several fund-raising events. But when I suggested we could be something more, you turned me down flat.”

She had? Did he hold that against her? This guy didn’t seem particularly heartbroken.

“No matter how many laughs we’ve shared over the years, how much we have in common, you said, as partners in the same law firm—competing for the same promotions, high-profile cases and so on—that it wasn’t a smart move for your career plan to see each other socially. I’ve accepted that and moved on. And your decision has paid off. Once Arthur retires, it’ll be you or me who takes over as senior partner. Stan hasn’t brought in the big clients and built his reputation the way you and I have.”

Arthur? Stan? From the board meeting. Right. “And we’re not seeing anyone else?” she asked.

“I’ve been dating Carol on and off.”

“Carol?”

“Yes, she’s your...” His voice trailed off and his lips curved into a pitying smile.

“My what?” A sister? Friend?

“I don’t suppose you remember her, either.”

Kenna shook her head.

“You said not to tell you.”

“Hellie.”

“Your executive assistant. Carol Ashton. Petite brunette? Shapely. Snarky. Superefficient? You’re a stronger man than I am.” He laughed at his male-female ribbing. “You’ve always been about the work and putting that first. But I need someone in my life. You don’t complicate your goals with distracting relationships. I admire that about you.”

She’d let the workaholic allusion, and the fact that she apparently defended criminals and had no personal life to speak of, slide for a moment. There was a more pressing clarification she still needed here. “So you can go to my house in the middle of the night and pack my things and greet me with a kiss because...we’re old friends?”

How much of a player was Helmut Bond? Had she ever succumbed to his dubious charms?

“You did get a hard whack in the head, didn’t you?” Hellie put one hand on her bag. “I picked this up at the office. Carol had those files stacked with the messages and mail on your desk. You always keep a bag packed in your closet in case you work late or are running straight to the gym. Your passport was in the safe there, so I pulled that for ID. Once the call to the firm’s answering service was forwarded to me, I gathered the information I thought you’d need and came right to the hospital. We share the same insurance provider, of course.”

“I see.” She might as well ask him to confirm a few other suspicions. “I don’t have any brothers and sisters, and both my parents are dead—Kenneth and...?”

“Gloria. Yes, they’re both gone.” Hellie cupped a hand around her shoulder again. She waited expectantly for him to continue, hearing the seconds ticking loudly from his watch near her ear. “You’re worrying me. Do I need to call a specialist for you? We have several psychiatric consultants on retainer with the firm. I could arrange for one of them to meet with you to go through hypnosis or memory exercises with you. We’d have to keep it hush-hush—out of the media so no one can question any of your recent or upcoming casework and claim incompetence and start filing appeals. I can draft a press release stating you’re taking a leave of absence for your physical health after the assault. But I don’t like seeing you like this.”