The Defender's Duty

“Sure.” Grayson’s news could only be one thing. He and Honor must be engaged. Good news for Grayson and the woman he’d fallen in love with. Great news for Jude. With wedding plans in the works, Grayson would have something to focus on besides getting Jude’s life in order.

“And keep the home-care aide. At least until then, okay?”

“Maybe.” Jude hung up before he and his brother could go another round. Better to save the argument until after Jude had gotten rid of Lacey. Once she was gone, there wouldn’t be much Grayson could do about it. And maybe this time he’d get the hint and not hire another aide.

“Did you get everything straightened out?” Lacey stepped outside.

“Depends on what you mean by everything.”

“Did your brother verify who I am?”

“Yes.”

“Good. The sooner I get unpacked and settled in for the night, the happier I’ll be.”

“Just because he verified who you were doesn’t mean you’re staying.”

“Actually, it does.” She smiled sweetly, but Jude had a feeling there was steel beneath her charming facade.

“Look, lady—”

“Lacey. Your brother signed a contract. I don’t think he plans to break it. So, for the next month, whether you like it or not, I’m going to be hanging around and helping out.” For someone who looked so young, she had a strong sense of self and a degree of confidence that usually came with time and experience. Still, he doubted she’d be any more difficult to get rid of than the other four aides had been.

“That’s up for debate.”

“How about we talk about it in the morning?”

“How about we have some more coffee and talk about it now?” He walked into the house, knowing Lacey was following. He needed to lay things on the line for her, let her know that she wasn’t staying, and then he’d say goodbye and watch Lacey Carmichael walk out of his life. Because the last thing he needed was one more complication, and it seemed to Jude that was exactly what Lacey was going to be.

TWO

Adrenaline still thrummed through Lacey’s veins as she followed her new client inside. After sixteen hours of driving, she’d thought she’d slip into the duplex she’d be staying in for the next month, eat one of the packs of crackers she had in her suitcase and then get a few hours of sleep. She’d never imagined she’d find herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

Someone had made a mistake and given the wrong house number. Whether it was her supervisor or Grayson Sinclair, Lacey didn’t know. All she knew was that it could have cost her her life.

“Before we discuss whether you’re staying or going, I’d like the key to my place.”

“I’ll need it so I can get back in tomorrow morning. I wouldn’t want to have to wake you.”

“Hate to break the news to you, but it already is tomorrow morning, and you’re already in my house.” He held out a hand, and Lacey dropped the key into it. “Thanks. Coffee?”

“No. Thanks. I’ve already had a dozen cups today.”

“I guess that explains your shaking hands.” He smirked, his deep-gray eyes almost as unnerving as the gun he still held.

“Looking down the barrel of a gun will do that to a person.”

“Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting company.” He limped across the living room and sat down, his dark hair falling across his forehead and partially concealing a scar that ran from his temple into his hairline. He’d been close to death but had survived. In that, she and Jude were alike.

“Do you always point guns at unexpected guests?”

“Only when they walk in uninvited. Grayson said you weren’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow. You said you’re here early because you didn’t want to waste money on a hotel room.”

“That’s right.”

“I was thinking it wouldn’t be wasted money since your company is probably paying for your travel expenses, so I’m wondering why you decided to drive straight through.”

Jude was a homicide detective. Lacey had learned that from the client information she’d received before she’d left Chicago. She just hadn’t expected him to use his interrogation skills on her. “Are you always this suspicious?”

“Only when someone breaks into my house at two in the morning.”

“It’s not breaking in if that person has a key.”

“Which doesn’t answer my question.”

“Too much coffee. There was no sense wasting money on a room I wasn’t going to be able to sleep in. Even if it was Helping Hand’s money.” It was the only excuse she could come up with. The truth was much too complicated to tell and wasn’t something she planned to share with a stranger. No matter how handsome and compelling he might be.

Handsome?

Compelling?

She was a lot more shaken than she’d thought if she was using those words to describe one of her clients.

“You’ve been on the road a long time. Where were you coming from?”

“Chicago.”

“You were working there?”

“Yes. I had an elderly client who suffered from dementia. I’ve been living with her for the past eight months.”

“And you left her to take the job my brother offered?”

“I never leave clients until they don’t need me any more.”

“People don’t recover from dementia.” Jude pressed for more information. Lacey didn’t mind giving it. Part of building a good working relationship required sharing a few tidbits of personal information. It had taken a few years for Lacey to realize how important that was, but once she had, she’d been able to pick and choose the information she’d shared, offering just enough to make her clients feel comfortable without giving too much of herself away.

“Mrs. Simpson passed away four days ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I am, too, but she lived her life well until the end. And now I’m here for you.”

“Actually, you’re here for my family. Like I said before, I don’t need a home-care aide.”

“Are you trying to fire me?”

“I’m just stating a fact. I don’t need help. You’re here because it makes my brother feel like he’s in control of things.”