Part of her wanted her to call the man, to see what he had to say about this morning’s visit and arrest. The untrustworthy part that was attracted to him.
Thanking Kenny, she dropped the open folder in front of her on her desk, turned on her computer and told her shadow side to shut the hell up.
* * *
Jayden went home for lunch. With the rib wrap and bulletproof vest he’d been wearing in July heat, he stank. He was stripping as he came in the door from the gara
ge, stopped at the refrigerator, thinking about a beer from the six-pack on the bottom shelf—probably would have had one if he hadn’t had a full afternoon of work facing him—and settled for a grape energy drink instead.
He’d put in a good morning. Hated to lose one of his own to reoffender status, but was glad that he’d stopped Luke from doing something much worse than possessing a gun. Luke would serve out his time in prison, with a bit more tacked on, he’d expect, once Emma got through with him, and maybe get himself straightened out. It happened sometimes, prison knocking some sense into a guy. Maybe he’d get some counseling. Or find religion.
Did Emma have the file yet? He’d give her until after his shower and then he’d call her. If she hadn’t already called him.
She’d said she’d get him windows of time and dates for Suzie Heber’s injuries, to check against Heber’s file on Jayden’s location app and also to use as he canvassed ice cream shops and establishments that sold ice cream in Heber’s area to see if there were any Heber visits that coincided with Emma’s dates. He’d been waiting all morning to hear from her.
She had other cases. A lot of them. So did he. So he showered. Fed the feral cat who hadn’t been outside since consuming the fish in his tank. Ate a peanut butter sandwich and then rewrapped his ribs. They were a bit better, though perhaps a little challenged by the morning’s events. He couldn’t say for sure. At the time that he’d pulled his gun, aimed it at Luke and told him to lie facedown on the floor, he’d been so filled with adrenaline, he hadn’t felt a thing.
The twinges had come later, when he’d stood over the man, called for backup and waited, poised to act at any minute movement from his soon-to-be ex-client. Other than breathing. Luke was allowed to breathe.
They’d twinged a bit during his meeting with Harold Wallace, too. Jayden wasn’t pressing charges against the boy, but the state was. He was to be remanded to juvenile detention while awaiting trial. His father was an ex-con on parole—they weren’t going to give the child to him.
But it was a first offense. The kid had been crying in court when he’d told the judge that he was only trying to protect his father on their property. Harold’s eyes had been moist, too. Jayden promised his client that he’d write to the judge personally, suggesting that the boy’s charges be lessened, and asking him to be placed with his father’s girlfriend, who was the closest thing to family he had. The woman was clean, had never been a user herself, and had been on her job for ten years. The fact that Wallace lived with her didn’t have to be a bad thing. Depending on how he spun it.
He’d told Wallace, if need be, he’d do whatever he could to take personal responsibility for the boy. But he wasn’t sure how that would look. Still, he was determined to try. That boy needed serious counseling, and deserved a second chance. The kid could prove him wrong. Could come after him and finish the job he’d started at his dad’s house. But it was a risk Jayden had to take. He had a good sense when it came to assessing people. And if not for second chances, he wouldn’t be the man he was.
He’d be a deadbeat drunk without a college degree, still trying to find a good time. If he was alive at all.
Still shirtless, and feeling better standing, Jayden called Emma from the back patio of his walled-in yard. Only a mile from the beach, he saw no point in a swimming pool, but he kept the place nice. Grass mowed. Flowering bushes trimmed.
Nothing like the opulent home he’d grown up in south of LA. Or the home he’d one day inherit. But far more to his taste.
“Jayden Powell here,” he said when she picked up.
“Your name came up on my phone,” she replied.
He slipped a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. So she had him programmed, huh? He grinned.
And then stopped. He had all of his work associates in his Contacts, too. Meant nothing.
“I’m waiting for the dates and times Suzie might have suffered injuries.” He turned his thoughts to his earlier offer. He’d invited a more personal relationship. She’d declined.
Not something he was used to, but he’d definitely survive.
“I was just getting ready to put in a second call to Sara,” she said. “I’ve got what the doctor could give us. I wanted to get it all to you at once.”
Made sense.
“I’ve been in court all morning.”
He walked along the pavers he’d put in across the lawn that lead to his built-in barbecue patio. He’d been heading toward a chair at the table, but once there, opted to remain standing.
The distraction didn’t work. He was still grinning from the realization that she hadn’t been specifically ignoring him. She’d been in court.
“I requested you on a case,” he told her. Maybe she hadn’t been assigned to it. There was always that possibility, though it was just now occurring to him.
“I’ve already read the file. Need to talk to you about it, actually. Can you swing by my office sometime today?”
“I can talk now.”