For Tanner.
“Sure. I have work to do. Catch you later!” Leigh stood and left the room.
Scarlett opened her computer and pulled up Victor Clark’s mug shot. His face filled the screen and she opened her mouth in shock. “That’s the guy who threatened me at the club.”
She immediately grabbed her cell, the desire to tell Tanner overwhelming, but she paused, putting the phone down and forcing herself to think. Tanner had a history with Victor, one that pushed his buttons and caused him to act out. Did she really want to tell Tanner the man he despised had threatened her? He’d beaten up Victor once before.
She glanced at the screen and shivered, finding it difficult to convince herself it was a coincidence that he’d been hanging around the club the night of the bomb scare, that he’d threatened her, and didn’t know she was connected to Tanner.
Based on her knowledge of cops, even if she mentioned the situation to friends on the force, they’d tell her there was nothing they could do with what amounted to a threatening gesture. Which meant she was on her own. Unless she told Tanner. He deserved to know. And she couldn’t deny this would be a test of how well he handled his temper these days.
With shaking hands, she found and touched his number.
“Scarlett?” He answered immediately.
“Can you come to my office? Now?” she asked, closing out of the page because she did not want to look into those cold eyes another second longer.
“I’ll be right over.”
While she waited, she made use of the time it would take him to show up. Picking up the phone, she made a few calls. It wasn’t difficult for her to find out in which prison Victor had been incarcerated. From there, another couple of leads and she’d discovered how and why he’d been tagged for early release, giving her the answers Tanner wanted.
“Mail call!” Marty, the intern pushed a cart as he knocked and stepped into Scarlett’s office. “This came for you, Ms. Davis.” He handed her a plain manila envelope addressed to Scarlett Davis, Esquire.
“Thanks, Marty.” She accepted the flat packet and he walked out, heading for his next office stop.
She held the envelope and glanced at both sides. “That’s odd. No return address. Hmm.” Slicing it open, she pulled out a white sheet of paper with red writing.
You’re dead.
No signature.
Her stomach turned over at the sight, her mind immediately going to Vic and his threatening gesture. She dropped the letter and called for forensics to come pick it up, though she knew, like most evidence delivered here, there wouldn’t be fingerprints or anything to find.
All she could do now was wait for Tanner.
* * *
Tanner hadn’t expected to hear from Scarlett any time soon. He assumed she’d need time to decide how she felt about his past, and he’d had every intention of giving her the space she deserved. So when his phone rang and she asked to see him, to say he’d been shocked was an understatement. If she merely had discovered information on Victor, she could have just told him over the phone. His gut screamed something deeper was at play.
He crossed town and arrived at her office as fast as he could get there, opting for the subway to take him the fastest way, cutting out traffic.
Michelle, a full-figured woman at the front desk who knew him by now, waved him on by. Scarlett’s office door was closed, so he knocked and waited for her to tell him to come in.
At the sound of her voice, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind him when he realized they were alone.
“Hey. Is everything okay?” he asked, out of breath from the way he’d rushed to get here.
She toyed with the pen on her desk, biting into her bottom lip as she met his gaze. Clearly something was very wrong.
“Talk to me,” he said, walking over and sitting on the edge of her desk, close enough to be affected by her peach scent.
“Fine. First things first.” She glanced at a paper on her desk with her handwriting on it. “I made the call you asked and I know how Victor acquired early release. Simple answer to that question. He snitched on his cellmate to the feds. Gave them information they needed to close a huge drug case, and in exchange, he walked early.”
“Son of a bitch.” His hands immediately curled but he caught the movement before he formed fists. Instead he forced air into his lungs, aware of her watching him warily. “Okay, at least I have my answer.”
“There’s more.”
“Okay…” He braced himself and waited.
“Something happened the other night and I didn’t mention it before because I brushed it off. I thought … well, it’s Manhattan. I figured it was just a crazy person. And–”