“Marcus,” she said, simply for lack of anything else. “Did you forget something?”

“Yes,” he said. The thickness in his voice sent a tremor rumbling through her, stirring a reaction she thought had died with his departure.

He stepped forward, filling the door frame until they were inches apart. The tremor gained intensity, until it felt like a storm was building within her, churning in her belly. He reached down and hooked his forefinger under her chin, lifting her face to his.

She waited, breathless, to see what he would do. Behind him, the holiday lights on her neighbors’ homes sparkled in the background like a million multicolored stars, giving the world—this moment—an unreal, almost magical feel. She knew it should be cold, felt the wind blowing past and around them, saw their breaths mixing and rising into the air. All she registered was heat, from that small spot where his finger met her chin, the only place where they were touching, from his eyes poring over her face and staring deep into her own.

Then, as though granting her something she’d been waiting an eternity for, he finally lowered his mouth to hers.

Silent Night Stakeout
Kerry Connor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Many thanks to Allison Lyons for her enthusiasm for this story.

With gratitude to all the Harlequin Intrigue authors whose books made me dream of joining their ranks, for showing me how it’s done.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A lifelong mystery reader, Kerry Connor first discovered romantic suspense by reading Harlequin Intrigue books and is thrilled to be writing for the line. Kerry lives and writes in New York.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Regina Garrett —A client’s murder turns the defense attorney into a target herself.

Marcus Waters —The homicide detective has an instinctive dislike for defense attorneys, but isn’t about to let that stop him from solving this case—and keeping Regina safe.

Jeremy Decker —He knew something someone would kill to keep quiet.

Lauren Decker —If Jeremy’s sister knows what secrets her brother was keeping, she isn’t telling.

Jeff Polinsky —Marcus’s partner doesn’t bother to hide his dislike of Regina.

Cole Madison —Is the wealthy man a simple crime victim, or something more?

Tracy Madison —A woman who is possessive toward what she considers hers.

Donald Gaines —A man with powerful connections and no qualms about using them.

Eric Howard —How much does Jeremy’s childhood friend know?

Troy Lewis —Lauren’s ex-boyfriend is nothing but trouble.

Adrian Moore —His responsibilities extend far beyond his job description.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Prologue

Jeremy Decker sat in the driver’s seat of the parked car, hands clenched on the steering wheel, and tried to fight the fear gripping his body.

The feeling was nothing new. It seemed as if he’d spent the past year being afraid, ever since the night the police had arrested him. He still remembered the shock and terror of those moments when they’d slapped the cuffs on and dragged him away. The first days after the arrest had been nerve-racking because he hadn’t known what would happen next. Then there’d been all the long months in jail when he’d been scared to sleep, scared to turn his back on anyone, scared that he’d never see the outside again.

But never in his life had he been as scared as he was right now.

Outside, the temperature was almost zero. A thick layer of snow was on the ground, the wind blowing gusts of it across the deserted street. He knew the cold had to be seeping into the vehicle more and more every moment he sat there. White puffs of air appeared in front of his face with every breath he took. He barely felt it, unable to feel anything but the fear holding him in place.

He didn’t make a move to restart the engine and turn on the heat. It would only delay what he needed to do. He needed to push the door open. He needed to get out of the car and walk into the office building where his lawyer was waiting for him. He needed to get help.

He needed to tell.

Just the thought of it made him swallow hard, his lungs tightening painfully in his chest. The idea was terrifying, no matter how much he knew he had to do it. Ms. Garrett would know what to do. She’d fought hard for him, done everything she could for him, gotten him out of jail.

Now, though, he couldn’t help but wish she hadn’t fought so hard, had left him there, where it suddenly seemed so much safer.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely had time to react to the sound of the back door being wrenched open before someone slid into the seat behind him.

He jerked his head up to meet the intruder’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He felt no surprise at what he saw. There was only the fear, rising another notch to outright horror.

“Does she know? Did you tell her?”

He somehow managed to make his throat move, to force out the sound. “No.”

“But you were going to, weren’t you?”

There was no point in lying. He was sure the answer was written all across his face. He couldn’t keep it from his eyes as they stared back at those in the mirror.

Staring at those eyes, he never saw the knife. He only felt it, the pain sharp and swift and agonizing against his neck. His mouth fell open in shock, in terror. He couldn’t move, couldn’t find the power to utter a single word.

He could only stare into those eyes as they stared back, grim and determined.

Before he realized it, he felt it, the cold, in a way he hadn’t before. It poured into his body, insistent and unrelenting, filling him down to the bone. Until he could feel nothing else.

Cold. So cold.

And then he felt nothing at all.

Chapter One

“Tell me you’re not still at the office.”

Bracing the phone between her ear and shoulder, Regina Garrett smiled at the dismay in her friend’s voice. “I answered the phone here, didn’t I?”

“You’re supposed to be on vacation!”

“And I will be, just as soon as I see one last client.” A client who was already more than an hour late, she noted with another glance at the clock. Jeremy Decker had practically begged her to see him, so if anything, she would have expected him to be early. But an hour after their designated meeting time, he had yet to appear. She wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or annoyed, though annoyance was starting to win out.

“There’s always one more client with you,” Cheryl said. “That’s the reason you haven’t had a vacation in three years.”

Four, Regina thought, not about to correct Cheryl when she was already in mid-lecture. The last thing her friend needed was more reason to get riled up.

“Not this year. This really is the last client. My calendar is cleared for the next three weeks, my bags are packed and tomorrow morning I’ll be on a plane.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I booked the flight and the hotel long ago, and both are nonrefundable. I’m going.”

“I guess that’s something. You might be a workaholic, but I’ve never known you to throw away money like that.” Sounding slightly mollified, Cheryl sighed. “Christmas in the Caribbean. I really envy you.”

“You wouldn’t miss Christmas with your family for anything,” Regina pointed out.

“I know, but I wouldn’t mind exchanging all this snow and ice for a sunny beach. The tropics will sure be a big change from Chicago.”

“You’ve got that right. It’ll be nice to get some actual sun in December.” It would be even nicer to have the kind of Christmas Cheryl had in store for her, with her kids and husband and multitude of assorted relatives, all squeezed together in a house that wasn’t really made to accommodate so many people. But they would make do, and be happy, laughing and eating and loving, just enjoying being together.

Regina swallowed the pang of envy as she pictured it. Ever since her mother’s death, she’d been alone for the holidays. There was no other family left, and unlike Cheryl and pretty much every one of her friends, she was still single. Meeting the right man wasn’t easy in her line of work. As a criminal defense attorney with her own small practice, she worked long hours, and bad guys were more likely to cross her path than good ones. And given how she spent her days, it was even more important to her that any man she spend her nights with be a good one, someone real and honorable and true. Sadly, such men seemed to be a rare breed, or if not, all the ones out there were already taken.

She knew Cheryl would have invited her to spend Christmas with her family. She had a dozen other friends who would have done the same if she hadn’t told them her plans. Though her friends would have gone out of their way to make her feel nothing but welcome, she still would have felt like an intruder, the pathetic interloper piggybacking on somebody else’s Christmas, somebody else’s family.

But not this year. This Christmas she was going to sit on a beach and do her best to forget about work and the holidays, with nothing on her schedule but enjoying the sun and having hot island men serve her drinks with little umbrellas in them. If that was the closest she was going to get to meeting a good man this year, then so be it.

But first she needed to deal with her one last, incredibly late client, she thought with another check of the clock.

On the phone, Cheryl continued to prattle on about Regina’s island getaway and her own holiday plans, with nothing more than Regina’s automatic murmurs of agreement in response. That was Cheryl, perfectly capable of having a conversation with herself.

Finally Regina had to interject, “You know, I think my client’s finally here. I should go.”

“Yes, you should,” Cheryl said sternly. “You know I’ll call back in a little while to make sure you’re gone.”

“I won’t be here.”

“Good. If I really don’t talk to you again, you be sure and call me the minute you get back. I want to hear all the details.”

“I promise,” Regina said with a smile. “Merry Christmas, Cher.”

“Merry Christmas!”

With a wistful sigh, Regina replaced the phone. Around her, the empty office was heavy with silence and shadows, the lights in the outer room already shut off to conserve power. She’d sent her assistant home to her own family hours ago. It was well after seven o’clock and she suspected there was no one left in the entire building.

Not for the first time, she wondered why Jeremy could possibly need to see her so badly. She’d tried to get him to tell her on the phone, but he’d only said that he needed to talk to her about something important. She’d done her best to tell him it would have to wait until the new year, but he’d been so insistent she’d finally relented and named the meeting time that had passed well over an hour ago.

As far as she knew, his case was closed. He’d been arrested early in the year for burglary after being found in the middle of the night outside a home on the North Side. A friend in the public defender’s office had called her about the case, knowing she had the time and resources to serve him better than they could and that it was the type of pro bono case she was likely to take. Jeremy Decker was a young man with an otherwise spotless record who’d needed help. And she’d done her best to help him, working long months to have the charges dropped and him released in time to spend Christmas with his sister, who’d just given birth a few months ago to a niece Jeremy had never seen.

He’d been released only a few days ago. She couldn’t imagine he’d managed to get in any new trouble since then, and his old trouble had already been resolved.

Reaching for the phone, she called the number for the house Jeremy shared with his sister. Again, there was no answer, not even a machine or voice mail. If he had a cell phone, she didn’t have the number.

When the clock hit two hours past the agreed-upon meeting time, Regina finally decided she’d waited long enough. Whatever Jeremy wanted, it couldn’t have been as urgent as he’d said if he couldn’t make their meeting or call with an explanation. She’d given him enough of her time. Besides, she didn’t know what more she could do for him. As far as she was concerned, her work on his case was done.

She quickly moved through the office, making sure everything was shut down and closed up tight, then retrieved her briefcase and headed for the door. Minutes later she was pulling out of the parking garage beneath the building, her mind already turning to the last few tasks she had to accomplish before her flight in the morning. As soon as her tires hit the slush on the street, her anticipation for those tropical beaches kicked up another level. It really would be nice to get away.

She was only a few yards from the building when her headlights swept over a familiar car parked on the opposite side of the street in front of her. She automatically eased off the accelerator, all thoughts of her vacation evaporating. It was Jeremy’s car, or at least a dead ringer for the one she knew he owned. Apparently he was here after all. Had she just missed him on her way out of the building?

She slowed to a crawl as she neared the vehicle. The street was dark, night having fallen hours ago, but there was enough light from the nearest streetlamp that she could make out a figure sitting in the driver’s seat.

She waited for him to roll down the window or acknowledge her in any way. Nothing happened.

Pulling over to the curb, she climbed out of the car and checked both ways before crossing the street to Jeremy’s vehicle. There was still no motion inside. She leaned down toward the window, already raising her closed hand to tap on the glass.

The first thing she saw was the blood. There was so much of it that half the front seat seemed to be smeared with redness. Most of it was centered on the figure sitting there. Her eyes slowly trailed upward from the blood coating the person’s chest, past the awful gash on his throat, already knowing what she’d find before she saw his face.

Jeremy Decker stared straight ahead, the emptiness in his eyes showing he was dead even if she hadn’t seen all that blood. His mouth gaped as open as his throat, and shoved between his lips was what appeared to be a red handkerchief.

Reeling back in horror, Regina struggled to pull in a breath. Over the years she’d seen the grisliest of crime scene photos, but not once had she ever seen a murdered body in the flesh. To have the victim be somebody she knew made it even worse.

Jeremy. She’d seen him just days ago. Happy and excited, and most important, alive, eager to meet his niece.

Regina hurried back to her car for her cell phone, trying to choke back the sadness and regret that threatened to overwhelm her. Just moments ago, she’d been annoyed with him for being late, sitting in the safety of her office while someone did this to him right outside.

It appeared Jeremy Decker had the best excuse for lateness there was.

Chapter Two

“I’ll never understand people,” Jeff Polinsky griped as the crime scene came into view in front of the car. “You’d think cold like this would keep them indoors instead of running around outside killing each other.”

“I guess it depends how badly they want to kill somebody,” Marcus Waters mused from the driver’s seat. “You know as well as I do some people aren’t going to let anything stop them.”

“Yeah, just like I know if there’s an outdoor crime scene in December, we’re the ones who are going to catch it.”

With a faint grin, Marcus simply shook his head at Polinsky’s complaining. He’d heard this particular refrain before. They’d been partners for almost two years, and Marcus would be hard-pressed to think of a single day Polinsky hadn’t found something to complain about. A big, burly and balding figure in his fifties, Polinsky had been on the job for a long time, and the man wasn’t exactly known for his charm. Marcus knew that the reason they were partners wasn’t just because they worked well together, but because he was one of the few who were able to tolerate the man. For all Polinsky lacked in personality, he was a good detective, and that was all Marcus cared about. He just let everything else roll off him.

Not that he could disagree with Polinsky on this one. A nighttime crime scene in temperatures flirting with zero wasn’t his idea of a fun evening, either. Even with the heater blasting, the inside of the car was barely warm. He could imagine how it would feel when they got outside in the open.

But they would do it, and they would deal with the cold. Somewhere in the mess of people and vehicles in front of them was a victim, and somewhere out there was a killer. And it was their job to find that person and make sure he or she didn’t get away with it.

Familiar determination spread in his gut. He’d been on the job long enough he probably shouldn’t still get the feeling. Not nearly as long as Polinsky, but long enough that the idea of a new case, a new perp to catch, shouldn’t still give him a charge. But after all these years, the feeling was still there, still as strong as ever.

He found a free spot along the curb that was as close as they were going to get and parked the car. Before he’d even put the vehicle in Park, Polinsky had shoved his door open and begun the laborious process of hefting his frame out of the car. Marcus met him in front of the sedan and they started toward the scene.

A multitude of flashing lights lit up what he figured would normally be a quiet street at this time of night. It was a business district, primarily office buildings and a few warehouses, the kind of area that would be mostly deserted by now. A uniformed officer broke away from the scene and came to meet them as they approached.

“What do we have?” Marcus asked when they were face to face.

“Male victim found in his car. He’s been identified as Jeremy Decker, age 24.”

“Who identified him?”

“His lawyer. Regina Garrett. She’s the one who found the body. Her office is just up the street.”

Marcus frowned at the same time Polinsky echoed, “Regina Garrett?”

“Yeah. You know her?”

“I’ve heard of her,” Polinsky muttered, his tone making it clear none of what he’d heard had been good.

Marcus wasn’t surprised. He’d heard of Regina Garrett, too, all from other cops, none of whom had been fans. She was a defense attorney, and a very good one at that. Word had it she was smart, she was tough, and she was a crusader. If there was a weakness in a case or the slightest angle to be exploited, she’d find it. More than one case had been torpedoed over the years thanks to her. He’d never dealt with her on one of his cases or encountered her personally, but he’d heard enough to know he wouldn’t like her.

He did his best to swallow the instinctive distaste. Logically speaking, he knew defense attorneys served a key role in the justice system. But he also knew that in all likelihood there were plenty of people who should be in jail but weren’t because of her.

“If she’s the vic’s lawyer, I’m assuming he’s had some trouble with the law,” Marcus said.

“Burglary,” the officer confirmed. “She got him out a few days ago, just in time for Christmas.”

Polinsky snorted. “I bet he’s wishing she hadn’t right about now.”

“She’s waiting over there if you want to talk to her.”

“In a minute,” Marcus said without bothering to see where the officer gestured. He knew talking to her was necessary, but was in no hurry to do so. He could already guess how much fun dealing with her was going to be. Regina Garrett could wait. “Let’s take a look at what we’ve got first.”

“Sure, but I’ve got to warn you, it isn’t pretty.”

“They usually aren’t,” Polinsky grumbled.

It took only one look to see the officer hadn’t overstated things. Marcus had certainly seen his share of crime scenes over the years, but this one packed an unpleasant punch that was uniquely its own. Even Polinsky winced and glanced away for a second, muttering under his breath, before refocusing on the body.

Jeremy Decker stared straight ahead, expression frozen in a look of terror. He’d known he was going to die, probably felt it happening as all the blood that coated his front poured out of his body. He’d had his throat cut from behind, presumably by someone seated in the back seat. The back driver’s-side door was unlocked, most likely from the killer’s exit and possible entrance if he or she hadn’t been inside the car all along, but there weren’t any useful footprints that could be discerned outside the vehicle. They’d have to hope there was some useable trace evidence within the car, but from the looks of it, it hadn’t been cleaned in some time, making it unlikely anything would be found.

With one last look, Marcus turned to Polinsky. “Guess we should talk to the lawyer. You want to take her?”

“Nah, you go ahead. I might say something I regret.”

Knowing Polinsky, that was a safe bet. Nodding tightly, Marcus suppressed a sigh and turned around, eyes seeking out the woman, already anticipating what he’d find. No doubt she’d be uptight and humorless, a know-it-all with her nose in the air ready to tell him how to do his job and make it as difficult as possible. She’d probably be irritated at having been forced to wait instead of being spoken to immediately. He looked for someone who was frowning, someone who looked ready for a fight—

Someone who was drop-dead beautiful.

He stopped and almost did a double take as soon as he saw her. And there was no doubt this was her. The cold had limited the number of onlookers. There were relatively few women around, and all the rest were part of the crime scene team. That left a single female standing alone on the fringes.

Despite the cold, she wasn’t hunched over in her coat trying to keep warm. She stood straight, hands in her pockets, her eyes on the scene, as though she wasn’t affected by the weather at all, even as the wind pulled at the edges of her coat. A streetlamp behind her poured its glow directly over her, illuminating her as effectively as a spotlight. Which, from the looks of her, was exactly where this woman deserved to be.

Even from a distance, there was no mistaking the beauty of that face, her features perfectly formed, her lips lush and full, her skin a dark, warm brown. Her coat was belted at the waist and molded to her body, hinting temptingly at lush curves. Despite her obvious beauty, she didn’t look as cold and unapproachable as such women often did. Certainly not the angry, arrogant figure he’d been expecting. There was a warmth, a kindness, to her face, something approachable despite the worry on it that made her infinitely more appealing.

Their eyes met across the distance. Hers widened slightly with surprise, with shock, with something he recognized all too well as a charge suddenly jolted through his body. He stood as frozen as the world around him, but all he felt inside was raw heat.

Now that he thought of it, he’d heard talk that she was a looker, but mostly in a “what a waste” sense, her appearance hugely overshadowed by the talk of everything she’d done. What she did.

He would be better off remembering that. Not that he had any trouble doing so. After all, the only reason they were both here, the only reason he’d had the opportunity to experience that sudden, inexplicable charge that had passed between them, was because she’d gotten another criminal freed.

The only thing that mattered was finding out if her actions had played as much of a part in getting him killed.

REGINA HAD SEEN THE man she deduced was a homicide detective as soon as he arrived with another man who appeared to be his partner. He’d been far enough away, with his collar pulled up against the cold, that she hadn’t been able to get a good look at him. She’d watched from a distance as he and the other man had approached Jeremy’s car and examined the gruesome scene she could still see entirely too well in her head.

But it wasn’t until he suddenly turned and looked directly at her that she was able to see him clearly. And in that instant when their eyes met, every thought that had been racing through her head evaporated, along with every bit of moisture in her mouth.

The man was, quite simply, the best thing she’d seen in a long time, so much so he almost didn’t seem real. He was tall, with the kind of muscular frame that not even the bulky coat could hide. It seemed barely capable of containing his wide shoulders, the sleeves stretching and straining around his arms. Even if she hadn’t been able to see the rest of his body, his face would have been enough to tell her what it was like. His features were all hard planes and sharp leanness, and even his cheekbones seemed to have muscles. His hair was cut close to the scalp, making the features on that dark brown face stand out that much more strongly.

He started toward her, that massive frame moving with an easy grace. Her heart did a curious lurch in her chest, then kickstarted again in a faster pace as she watched his approach.

Then he came close enough that she could see the tightening of his expression, the wariness in his eyes. She immediately knew the cause of his reaction, and she choked back a sigh.

So he was one of those. A cop who viewed her as the enemy.

She wasn’t surprised, of course. It went with the territory. She was comfortable with her career. She’d learned a long time ago that the police weren’t always right and that not all police officers were good people. But there was still something uniquely disappointing about having as fine a male specimen as the man before her looking at her like that.

She swallowed the disappointment that rose in her throat. Hadn’t she just been thinking how difficult it was to find a good man? She should know better than to let herself be so affected by a physical reaction, a reaction that was no doubt caused just as much by the stress of everything that had happened in the past few hours as the man himself. Finding Jeremy. Talking to the first officers on the scene. The endless waiting. It was no wonder her emotions were off-kilter. She sucked in a breath, trying to regain her senses.

Then he was in front of her, bigger and more overwhelming than before, and she suddenly had to try to recover from his appearance all over again. “Ms. Garrett?”

Damn. His voice was as sexy as the rest of him, a low rumble she felt quake through her. She nearly shuddered. “Yes,” she said, her tone admirably smooth.

“Detective Marcus Waters,” he said, all business. “I was told you found the body.”

The subject matter thankfully brought her back down to earth. “That’s right.”

“And the victim was a client of yours?”

“Yes. He called earlier this evening and asked to see me.”

“About what?”

“He didn’t say. I tried to get him to tell me, but he would only say it was very important. I was expecting him at six. I called him a few times when he didn’t show, and finally gave up around eight. I was driving by when I saw him.”

“And he was already dead?”

“Yes.”

“You represented him on a burglary charge, is that correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Did he do it?”

For a second, the blunt, wholly unexpected question caught her off-guard, as she suspected he’d intended. Fortunately she had plenty of practice at keeping her expression from revealing anything but what she wanted it to. She never blinked, meeting his gaze head-on. “The charges were dismissed, Detective. That makes him innocent in the eyes of the law.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m afraid anything he might have told me is covered by attorney-client privilege.”

“Even if it’s relevant to his death?’

“Even then.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, turning downward the slightest bit, the only sign of his displeasure. She had to fight the urge to stare at those dangerously tempting lips. “What can you tell me about the case?”

“I imagine not much more than you could find in the police file.”

“Since I don’t have the file on me, any insight you could provide would be appreciated,” he said with a trace of sarcasm.

“Jeremy was arrested in April after the police responded to an alarm indicating a break-in at a home in Lincoln Park. He was found at the scene and was unable to provide a reasonable explanation for his presence, so he was arrested and later charged with burglary.”

“You said the charges were dismissed. So the case never went to trial?”

“No, it never got that far. He was released a few days ago.”

“And was murdered soon afterward.”

“You think there’s a connection.”

“Wouldn’t you?” he said sensibly. “Or maybe I should ask, don’t you?”

“I can see why you would think that,” she said carefully.

“So is there anything you want to tell me about the case? Anything I should know?”

Regina sighed. “Detective, I promise I’m not trying to be difficult. I want whoever did this to Jeremy to be caught just as much as you do. But frankly, it’s been a rather difficult evening and I’m not at my best. Let me take a look at my notes when my head’s a little clearer and see what I might be able to share with you.”

Eyes narrowed, he looked at her, long and probing, his gaze feeling as though it was peeling away the layers of her skin and exposing her to the core. Finally, his expression eased, like he’d come to the conclusion she really wasn’t trying to be a pain. “I would appreciate it.”

“Has his sister been informed?”

“His sister?”

“Lauren. She’s his next of kin, the only family he had left other than the baby she had a few months ago.”

He nodded. “I’ll take care of that next.”

“I’d like to be there when you do.”

“Why?”

“Lauren Decker just lost her only sibling. She’s going to need a kind face to break the news.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to inform someone of the death of a family member.”

“A family member you didn’t view as nothing more than a no-good criminal? That’s what you’ve already decided, isn’t it? That Jeremy Decker was nothing but a lowlife who probably deserved what was coming to him?”

“I’m not sure anyone deserved this, but just because you got him off doesn’t mean he was truly innocent.”

“And just because he was arrested doesn’t mean he was guilty.”

From his expression, he was biting back the response he wanted to offer. After a moment, he said, “Either way, I’m capable of breaking this news to her gently.”

“Then I look forward to seeing that. Because Lauren Decker is a young woman who just had a baby, which she is raising on her own. I suspect her emotional state is already fragile, and I can’t imagine this news is going to help that. Besides, who do you think she’s more likely to confide in, someone she just met who’s a member of the same police department that recently arrested her brother, or someone she’s met before, someone her brother trusted?”

Regina could tell he wanted to argue the point, those lips now compressed into a thin, frustrated line.

“Besides, like you said, you don’t have the file, so you’d have to look up the address. I already know it.”

“Fine,” he practically growled. “You can come.”

“Thank you.” Inwardly, she sighed with relief. Evidently she’d been wrong earlier. She could do something else for Jeremy Decker, the same thing she’d always intended to do: make sure he got justice. And not even an incredibly handsome police detective was going to prevent her from doing so.

The sound of footsteps crunching on slush and snow indicated someone was approaching moments before the man she’d seen arrive with Waters came up behind him. He was middle-aged and overweight, the folds of his face seemingly settled in a permanent frown. Even so, she had the distinct impression his scowl was extra fierce for her benefit, given the bleary-eyed glare he shot at her. Another cop who didn’t like her, she registered, though the knowledge gave her none of the disappointment she’d experienced when she’d seen the look in Detective Waters’s eyes.

“Everything okay over here?” the newcomer asked.

“Fine,” Waters said. “Ms. Garrett, my partner, Jeff Polinsky. Polinsky, Regina Garrett. Ms. Garrett has graciously agreed to provide the address of the next of kin. We’re going to go notify her now.”

The man’s frown deepened. “She’s going? Why?”

“To help,” Waters said with a wry edge that hinted at his skepticism. “You coming?”

“Pass,” Polinsky muttered, the look he shot her leaving little doubt for the reason. “I’ll wrap things up here, get a ride back with somebody.”

“Fine.”

Both men turned back toward her at the same moment. Regina knew Polinsky was about to challenge her before he said a single word. “Since you have all the answers, how about it, Counselor? Any theories about why somebody killed your client?”

Regina didn’t flinch from his stare, refusing to let his hostility get to her. “I have to assume someone didn’t want him to talk about something.”

“Oh, yeah? What makes you say that?”

“Why else shove a red handkerchief or whatever that was in his mouth? It was a message.”

“Probably. Especially since that handkerchief most likely didn’t start out red.”

“Polinsky—” Waters started.

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The handkerchief was red from the blood.” The corner of his mouth curved in a smirk, the nasty pleasure in it instantly making her uneasy. “The killer cut out his tongue.”

Chapter Three

“I apologize for Polinsky,” Marcus said as he drove them toward the address Regina Garrett had given him. “He’s not usually so rude.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” she said mildly from the passenger seat.

His mouth twitched in acknowledgment. “I’m not saying he’s not rude. He’s just not usually that rude.”

“I understand. He’s not the first cop who didn’t like me, and I doubt he’ll be the last.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Like most people, I’m not crazy about the idea that anyone dislikes me. But then, I wouldn’t be very good at my job if the entire Chicago PD were fans.”

“Well, cops tend to not be too crazy about people who help criminals get off,” he said before he could think better of it. As soon as the words were out, he braced himself for an angry comeback.

Instead she simply said, “Everybody deserves a defense, Detective. It’s how our justice system works.”

He didn’t bother to disagree. He was well aware how the justice system worked, or at least how it was supposed to. He also knew that some people deserved nothing but to be punished. That was justice. He almost asked her how many who deserved to be punished hadn’t been because of her, how many crimes they’d gone on to commit, how many people they’d hurt because she’d given them the opportunity. But that would make him no better than Polinsky, and he was in no mood to pick a fight.

They passed the rest of the trip in silence, his discomfort growing by the minute. He did his best not to look at her. It didn’t help. He could still see her out of the corner of his eye, still feel her presence with almost painful awareness. The faint scent of her perfume, something light and distinctly feminine, seemed to fill the close confines of the car, and every bit of his senses.

He felt a spurt of relief when they finally reached the street she’d named. It was nearly eleven o’clock. Most of the houses on this quiet residential block were aglow with holiday lights, though their darkened windows indicated that almost all of the residents were settled in for the night. He slowed as the house numbers began to reach the one he sought.

“I think that’s it,” she said a second after he spotted the house. It was a small one-story structure with a single car parked out front. Unlike those around it, this house wasn’t decorated with any lights. There also didn’t appear to be any on inside, at least none that were visible from the front.

“Was it just Decker and the sister who lived here?”

“I believe so. From what I remember, they inherited the house from their father, who died a few years ago. Their mother died when they were children.”

Filing the information away for future reference, he parked along the curb in front of the house and climbed out. He might have opened her door for her, but by the time he rounded the vehicle she was already out of the car. She started for the house as soon as he joined her, moving so automatically he almost wondered if she’d waited for him or intended to go on her own and leave him to follow.

Before he could bring up how they would handle this, she strode right up to the front door and knocked. For more than a minute, there was no answer.

“She may already be in bed,” Marcus observed.

“Maybe,” Regina agreed. “Especially if she managed to get the baby to sleep. She’d probably be trying to get as much rest as she could. I hate to wake her.” She sighed. “I hate to tell her any of this.”

To his surprise, there was genuine regret in her voice. She meant it. Frankly, he’d taken her insistence on being here as evidence of the control-freak tendencies he’d initially assumed she’d have, her claims of concern nothing more than a ploy to have her way. She was a lawyer; of course she’d be good at making an argument. Her obvious sincerity caught him off-guard, nearly made him look at her again until he managed to catch himself.

She was about to knock again when the curtains in the window shifted slightly, then the sound of locks being withdrawn met their ears. The door finally, slowly eased open. A nervous-looking face, a female version of Jeremy Decker’s, peered at them over a still-fastened chain. “Yes?”

“Hi, Lauren. Do you remember me?” Regina asked.

After a moment, Lauren nodded shakily. “You’re Jeremy’s lawyer.”

“That’s right. This is Detective Waters with the Chicago Police Department. Can we come in? We need to talk to you about something.”

“Jeremy’s not here.”

“I know. We need to talk to you.”

Lauren’s expression said she wanted to say no. Finally, as though realizing how futile it would be to turn away the police, she grimaced. “I just got the baby to sleep. You’ll have to be quiet.”

“Of course.”

The door closed long enough for her to unfasten the chain before opening it fully. She was dressed in thread-bare sweats, her hair wet as though she’d just stepped out of the shower. They hadn’t woken her, apparently catching her on her way to bed instead. As Regina had said, she was young, looking to be barely in her early twenties. Even younger than her brother. She was pretty, but tired-looking, probably to be expected for a woman with a baby. She waved them in, quickly closing and re-locking the door behind them, then turned to face them, folding her arms almost protectively over her chest.

“Is there somewhere we can sit down?” Regina asked when it looked as if Lauren Decker wasn’t going to offer.

Lauren nodded tightly and stepped past them to lead the way into a tiny living room off the entryway. She motioned vaguely at the couch, as much as an invitation as it seemed like they were going to get, falling into a chair herself.

Regina slid onto the edge of the couch closest to Lauren. Marcus remained standing, not seeing any way he could fit on it with her, not really wanting to get that close.

“Lauren, I’m afraid I have some sad news,” Regina said slowly, the kindness in her voice again catching him by surprise. “Jeremy is dead. I found him in his car outside my office tonight. He was murdered.”

He watched Lauren’s reaction to the news. She blinked several times, a lack of comprehension in her expression. It was a face he’d seen more than once in moments like this. “What are you talking about?” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“It appears someone killed him while he was sitting in his car.”

Eyes wide, Lauren began to shake her head. “Who?”

“That’s what we were hoping to ask you,” Marcus said gently, ignoring the look Regina shot him. “Do you have any idea why anyone would want to hurt your brother?”

She blinked up at him, her gaze slowly sliding from his to Regina’s, then away entirely as she lowered her head. And he knew before she said a word that she was going to lie.

“No.”

Before he could call her on it, Regina leaned forward. “Lauren, I know you must want whoever hurt Jeremy to be held responsible. If there’s anything you can tell us, anything at all, it would be helpful.”

This time the pause was barely noticeable before Lauren shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. He’d only been home a few days, and we didn’t talk much. He didn’t want to talk about jail, and he went out a lot.”

“Do you know where he went or who he went to see?” Marcus asked.

“No. Like I said, we didn’t talk much.”

He was about to press her further when Regina interjected. “Okay. I know this is a lot to take in, and we should give you some time to grieve.”

Before she even finished speaking, she started to rise. Marcus’s first instinct was to object. He hadn’t even begun to ask the many questions he had for Lauren Decker. But if he tried to press on in the face of Regina Garrett’s kindness, he would just come off like a bully, and that wouldn’t get him anywhere. As he took in the face of the young woman before him, now even more drained and pale than when they arrived, it was clear she’d closed herself off to them. He might be able to get more out of her now, or maybe he’d do even better once she’d had a chance to let the news and the implications of her brother’s death sink in.

Regina reached out and touched the arm of the young woman, who’d also risen. “Are you going to be all right here alone, or is there someone we can call to be with you?”

Lauren shook her head. “We don’t have any family left, and I have the baby. She’ll probably wake up if I have anyone over. I’ll be okay.”

Regina reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. “Here’s my number. Please call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you.”

Marcus already had his own card in hand. “And if you think of anything you think might be helpful, feel free to call me.”

She took the card without meeting his eyes. He didn’t believe for a second she would use it, but wanted to keep his name in her memory. Because like it or not, they would be meeting again.

Lauren Decker knew something, and sooner or later—sooner if he had any say in the matter—he was going to find out what it was.

“SHE WAS LYING,” Detective Waters said as he pulled away from the house.

“I know,” Regina said without hesitation. She should have known he’d pick up on it as well as she had. There was something reassuring about that. It implied he was smart, good at his job. He might be the right man to solve Jeremy’s murder after all.

“I would have appreciated the chance to talk to her further rather than have you rush us out of there.”

“It was obvious she wasn’t going to tell us anything. I have a feeling you saw that as well as I did.”

“It couldn’t have hurt to try.”

“Couldn’t it? She was a clearly exhausted woman who barely had time to absorb her brother’s murder. If you pushed her too far she could have turned against us entirely and decided to never cooperate at all.”

“Me,” he corrected. “She could have turned against me. There is no ‘us.’”

No, there certainly wasn’t, she thought with a pang. The comment seemed best left unaddressed. “Either way, you’re better off giving her a chance to let this sink in. Once she has a chance to think about it she may decide to share what she knows. If not, then you can push her. Or does your partner usually play the bad cop? I have a feeling he’s good at it.”

“He is,” he admitted. “In the meantime, is there anything you want to tell me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, if you were right and the killer was sending a message, that message was most likely intended for you.”

He wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t already considered, but hearing him voice the possibility made it much harder to ignore. She swallowed the knot that rose in her throat. “I know,” she agreed.

“It would seem somebody wanted to prevent him from talking about something. If there’s even the slightest chance he told it to you, they might come after you.”

“As I reminded you, attorney-client privilege applies to anything Jeremy might have told me.”

“We’re talking about someone willing to slit your client’s throat and cut out his tongue in a car parked on the street. I have a feeling this isn’t someone who’s going to take a chance you’ll remain that dedicated to your principles.”

“Which means this also isn’t someone likely to take the chance I don’t know anything either,” Regina said on a sigh. “And believe it or not, I really don’t think I know anything anyone would be willing to kill to keep hidden. I have to believe Jeremy was going to tell me tonight and didn’t get the chance.” If only he had. If only she’d pressed him harder on the phone. He might not be dead, or if so, at least she might have some idea what she was facing.

“Of course this is all guesswork,” he said after a moment. “For all we know whatever warning the killer implied wasn’t intended for you.”

He was trying to make her feel better, she realized with surprise. She glanced at him, and for a moment, their eyes met. At the sight of that impossibly good-looking face, a nervous flutter erupted in her chest. She tried to read his expression for any hint of what he was thinking, but came away empty. It was an odd reassurance for him to offer her. She wouldn’t have thought he would bother. She wondered what it meant that he had, wondered if it meant anything at all.

Wondered why she cared. No point reading too much into a simple courtesy.

“I hope you’re right,” she said, unable to keep the doubt from her voice.

They’d reached the street where her office was located. It hardly seemed possible but the crowd of police officers and crime scene technicians was already gone, the street deserted. As they neared the space where Jeremy’s car had been parked, the place where he died, she saw there was nothing there now. The body had been removed, the car towed away. But the memory of what had been there remained vivid in her mind, and she couldn’t suppress a shudder.

He stopped next to her car and put his vehicle in Park. As she unbuckled her seat belt, he reached into his coat and pulled out a business card, offering it to her. “For when you’ve gone over your notes, or if you think of anything else.”

“Of course.” Tucking the card in her pocket, she opened the door. “Good night, Detective.”

“Take care of yourself, counselor,” he said in that low, smooth voice of his, what should have been no more than a basic parting line sounding strangely personal.

She crossed the street to her car, fully expecting him to drive away as soon as she was out of the vehicle. He didn’t, remaining where he was as she unlocked her car and started the engine. Only when she was heading down the street did she see him finally start to drive away, his lights fading from view in her rearview mirror.

The fact that he’d finally left made sense. The fact that he’d waited until she was safely on her way, while somewhat surprising, was understandable.

The fact that she felt better for his having done so, or that the warmth caused by the timbre of his voice and those closing words continued to linger long after he was gone, was much harder to explain.

WHEN HER ALARM WENT OFF the next morning, Regina was jolted out of an uneasy sleep that was anything but restful. Instantly wide awake, she stared at the glowing digits on her bedside clock. It was early. She’d forgotten to reset the alarm the night before. This was the time she’d needed to get up to catch her flight to the Caribbean.

A flight she wouldn’t be taking, she acknowledged without a second thought. Shutting off the alarm, she rose to her feet and padded to the bathroom. All that mattered was finding out who was responsible for what had happened to Jeremy Decker.

Going to bed hadn’t allowed her to escape the horror of last night’s events. Her dreams had been filled with images of Jeremy, first silently begging her for help he was voiceless to explain, then as he’d looked when she’d found him, long past asking for anything.

And almost just as disturbing, an unsmiling police detective with dark eyes that seemed to sear through her, his expression mysterious and unreadable no matter how long she tried to discern what he was thinking.

Regina didn’t let herself linger on the last image. There were much more important things to deal with. She needed to get to the office and go through Jeremy’s file. With any luck, there would be something in it that would help her figure out this mess.

She showered and dressed as quickly as possible, already deciding to stop for coffee on the way rather than take the time to make it. Within fifteen minutes she was ready to go. Making her way downstairs, she tugged on her coat and, ignoring the packed suitcases lined up by it, pulled the door open.

She was about to step outside, her gaze lowering as she fumbled through her keys, when she saw it.

There was something on her front porch.

She froze, her keys forgotten. The snow hadn’t reached the porch, so the object, stark white against the brown of the wood, was plainly visible—and immediately noticeable as out of place. She stared at it for a moment, unsure what to do. Peering closer, she tried to identify it. It was white. Some kind of paper? No, the texture was wrong. It looked like some kind of fabric. Almost like—

A handkerchief.

Dread held her in place for a moment, her mind automatically going back to the last handkerchief she’d seen, the one shoved in Jeremy Decker’s gaping mouth. The one she’d thought was red.

The handkerchief most likely didn’t start out red.

No, in order to end up that color of red, it must have started out white. As white as the handkerchief sitting on her front porch.

And it was just sitting there, slightly crumpled or folded over. It didn’t move other than the edges fluttering the slightest bit. A cold wind was blowing outside. She could feel it swirling around her ankles. Yet the handkerchief didn’t blow away. Something must be holding it in place.

And in a horrifying instant, she knew what it was.

Her mind immediately rebelled, her stomach nearly doing the same. The idea was too terrible to consider. She desperately tried to think of another explanation, and came up blank.

Still, she had to know.

Digging into her bag for a pen, she inched closer to the handkerchief. Coming only as near as necessary, she leaned in, using the pen to ease back the corner of the fabric where it was folded over.

One glance was all it took to see her instincts had been correct.

Expecting it didn’t protect her from the shock of seeing it herself. She reeled back, already wishing she hadn’t looked, already trying to block out the image.

If the killer was sending a message, that message was most likely intended for you.

Detective Waters’s words echoed faintly from the back of her mind.

Waters.

She should call him. She should call somebody. It only made sense that it should be him. Even as the thought occurred to her, she was reaching into her pocket for the business card he’d given her, then for her cell phone.

She forced herself to focus on the tiny digits on the card and dialed the number with trembling fingers.

It took only two rings for him to answer.

“Waters.”

The sound of that voice sent a rush of relief through her, the emotion fiercer than she had any business feeling.

“Detective Waters, this is Regina Garrett.”

There was the briefest of pauses before he responded. “Of course, Ms. Garrett. What can I do for you?”

“I’m at home. There was something on my front porch when I opened my door this morning.”

“What kind of something?”

“A white handkerchief. And there’s something in it. I think—” She swallowed hard, tried to force the words out when her throat just wanted to gag.

“I think I found Jeremy Decker’s tongue.”

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