She’d had bruised ribs once—in high school when the male component of her dance partnership failed a lift—and she’d had trouble lying down, and then sitting up, for nearly a month.
He seemed fine. Better than fine. Showing him back to her office, she tried not think of him lying asleep. Didn’t want to know what he slept in. His dark hair had always been a little long anytime she’d had a glimpse of him in and out of court or the prosecutor’s office, but she’d never noticed before that it curled on the edges where his neck met his shoulders.
He entered the office. She shut the door. Pulled at the bottom of the short, black-and-white suit jacket she was wearing, and half tripped when her pump hit the leg of her desk as she rounded it.
Reaching her chair was almost a feat. She sat with a bit of a thud. She’d done it. Made it.
“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” she said, indicating with a nod of her head that he should take a seat on the chair in front of her desk.
He sat, a little slowly, but with no obvious pain showing. Hands on his thighs, he looked at her respectfully. Ready. Completely unaware of her as a woman, she was sure.
She’d heard he was as much of a workaholic as she was. Did that mean he was also like her, in that he didn’t allow himself to entertain non-work-related feelings? How did he manage that? She worked all the time because she honestly loved what she did and wanted to work all the time. But she’d never managed to find a way to shut up that shadow side that lurked inside her. Ready to strike.
Temptation was an evil beast.
If he had found a way to shut down outside of work, maybe that was something he could pass on to her during their brief association.
“Have you ever heard of the Santa Raquel High Risk team?” she asked, forcing her romantic thoughts back into the dark corner of her mind where she usually stayed without any fuss—where she was mostly glad to hide out.
Until someone like Jayden Powell came around and coaxed her out.
“They deal with domestic violence victims, right?”
“They—” She stopped and started again. “We were for
med for one purpose only. To prevent domestic violence deaths,” she told him. “We’re comprised of professionals from any fields that involve working with victims.”
He nodded politely, giving zero indication to his opinions, which put her on edge.
“The current team consists of a couple of police officers, a pediatrician or his assistant, a charge nurse from the children’s hospital, a couple of adult physicians who take reports from any of their peers to bring to us...” She paused to see if he had any reaction, to see if perhaps he knew of a reason to suspect that Suzie Heber’s physician might make a report. But didn’t see any indication that the mention of a doctor meant anything to him. And so she continued. “We also have victim counselors, a psychiatrist, me, and representatives from each of Santa Raquel’s schools, and most recently a private detective joined the team.”
His gaze flickered. Jayden raised his elbows to the arms of the chair, bringing his fingers to steeple at his lips. His torso barely moved.
She still had no idea what he was thinking, but she was pretty certain she had his attention now. Interesting.
“The team meets bimonthly, more if necessary,” she continued, partially driven by her bad-girl self who liked that she had the hot parole officer’s attention, but, professionally, she had to say exactly what she was saying.
“Everyone reports any suspicious activity they might have noticed, sharing any reports they might have received.” She took a quick breath, adding, “A school counselor who noticed that a child was suddenly skittish or exhibiting sudden personality changes. A teacher who notices bruising, or unkempt circumstances. A counselor whose victim might lead professionals to believe that her abuser’s anger is escalating. Or a doctor who reports signs of physical abuse noted on a patient. The police report all domestic violence calls they’ve gone on since the last meeting. We’re all there on a volunteer basis and some team members come and go as, say, one physician takes over for another, and so forth. Right now, other lawyers with information for the team report to me, but there are others who volunteer as team members from time to time, as well.”
Dropping his hands, he adjusted his torso in the chair. Nodded. Met her gaze. And she, the professional, was glad he was there. She also wondered if he was uncomfortable in her hard-backed chair. Wondered if she could scare up an upholstered one. Officer Powell might be a risk-taker, the wrong kind of man for her, but he was exactly the kind of probation officer she needed. He wouldn’t take any crap from Bill Heber. And he’d keep the man firmly under watch. No matter what it took.
“I’m guessing you know why I’ve asked to meet with you,” she said and smiled.
He smiled back, looking at her as though they’d already sealed the deal.
“You need my help,” he said, sounding confident. Assured. Not the least bit egotistical, though how he managed that, she didn’t know. He had a lot to be proud of. He sounded...willing to help.
“Yes,” she said, opening Bill Heber’s file.
“You want me to join the High Risk team, and I have to tell you, I’m intrigued...”
“No!” She hadn’t meant to blurt out the word. But there was no way she wanted to work with the man on a regular basis. “I’m sorry,” she said, glancing at the file that would right her brain instantly. “I just need your help with a case.”
She couldn’t lose Suzie Heber. She just couldn’t. And it was in his power to help her make certain that didn’t happen.
* * *
He’d help her fly to the moon if she asked. Or do his damned best and die trying.