Legal Heat (26 page)

He didn’t move. “Come on, Kate. It means so much to the kids.”

She gritted her teeth. She couldn’t deal with this right now. Her head throbbed. Her heart ached. She had been up all night, berating herself for making the mistake of becoming emotionally involved with someone who was interested in her only for a bit of fun. And she was emotionally involved. No doubt about that. But Steven, smirking in her kitchen, reminded her exactly why she did not need a man in her life. She should thank him for bringing her to her senses.

“Melissa, go change your dress and then get in the car. Justin get in the car now.”

She ignored their glum faces and waited until the children were gone before rounding on Steven. “What is the meaning of this?” She waved her arm around the room at the decorations. “Why would I want to celebrate our anniversary when we’re divorced? How dare you involve the children? Did you think you could guilt me into pretending we were a happy family again?”

“Come on, Kate. I just wanted to show you how much I missed you.” His eyes hardened, and he switched tones as quickly as he had switched beds. “I won’t say anything about your twisted lifestyle to the court or the concern it gives me about how you are raising the children if you’ll just reconsider…”

A red haze filled her vision. Blood hammered in her ears. She picked up the cake and hoisted it into the air. “Steven. Go.”

His lips curled into a snarl. “I’m getting tired of this. I don’t know what’s going on with you but I don’t like it. The slutty clothes, strange parties, the defiant attitude. It’s not you. Not the sweet, innocent, gentle girl I married. You’re my wife. Mine. I was your first and I’ll be your last. We’re a family. A piece of paper isn’t going to change that. I’m not giving up. We’ll be together again. I promise.”

He pushed open the door and looked back over his shoulder at the cake. “Don’t do something you’re going to regret. The Kate I know doesn’t give herself over to rash behavior.”

She heard a scream and was surprised to discover it was her own.

Lana lifted her camera when the front door opened. How did the subject manage her life on so little sleep? Lana had almost given up last night, worn out from following the subject around, when she had emerged just after midnight from the office building on Burrard Street. Disheveled and with the mystery man. All smiles and heated looks until something sparked an altercation and the lovey-dovey scene had ended with a cab door slamming and the mystery man alone on the street. Poor guy. She’d have given up on the subject by now. Or maybe not. Lana pinched one of the rolls on her stomach. Maybe if she lost a few pounds, she could have tall, dark handsome men chasing after her.

She checked her appearance in the rearview mirror. Nice green eyes, although a little big, creamy skin, pale complexion marred only by a smattering of freckles. And lots of men liked red hair. She should grow it out. Give them something to hold. Still the subject sure led an interesting life. What she wouldn’t give to have a man look at her like there was no one else in the world.

A strand of hair fell in front of the camera lens and she brushed it away in irritation. What if she dyed it auburn? Would the contrast with her light features be too much? She stared at her reflection, trying to imagine herself as a brunette.

A movement in the car behind her caught her attention. The man in the black Chrysler 300C had been sitting in his vehicle for over an hour. Had Mr. S been unhappy with her last drop? Had he hired someone else?

She slunk lower down in her seat and pulled out a tiny mirror with a long handle. Handy for watching without being seen. Yup. There he was. Blue button-down shirt, buzz cut. Average looking except for the eyes. Black eyes. Sinister eyes. Even from a distance they scared her. No point confronting him. She didn’t even know who he was watching. Maybe he was on a different case altogether.

She still couldn’t figure out why her employer wanted the subject followed. It couldn’t be a marital dispute. The subject was divorced, although the ex spent a lot of time at her house. Must have been an amicable split. She’d heard about amicable divorces, although she had never seen one. Maybe the mystery man had a wife or a jealous girlfriend and had enlisted a male friend to hire Lana. It wasn’t unusual. Or so she’d heard.

A scream pulled her into the present. The ex raced out of the house just as a huge pink cake flew out the door, landing only a foot behind him. Pink icing spattered all over the back of his scrubs. She couldn’t press the button fast enough on her camera.

The ex turned and raised his fist, shouting something about a custody hearing. The door slammed. She expected him to stalk away fuming. Instead he bent down and scooped some icing off the sidewalk. With a smile, he sauntered across the street to his car, licking the icing off his finger.

Friggin’ psycho. Why didn’t he go for the cake?

Katy paced in front of the Vancouver Law Courts. If Martin didn’t show up soon, she would forfeit her deposition slot. She didn’t want to lose her only chance to validate Martha’s story or to dig behind Hi-Tech’s corporate veil.

She looked up and down the street for the hundredth time. Maybe Martin couldn’t see her under the dark awning shadowing the entrance to the courthouse. She walked over to a stone bench and sat down amidst a collection of planters filled with bright flowers.

Mark wasn’t here yet. No doubt he was scrambling to prepare an application to have her deposition adjourned. Well this time she was prepared. She had her cases and evidence ready and the determination to push the deposition through.

And yet, a part of her didn’t want to win. How would she get through an entire day, hating him and wanting him at the same time? Did the intense night of sex in his boardroom mean nothing to him? Why, even after the conflict was resolved, had he pulled away? Had he been interested in her only for the element of danger and the thrill of the chase? She couldn’t take the emotional uncertainty. She needed him out of her life and out of her mind.

“Katherine Sinclair?”

A slight, middle-aged man wearing a faded gray, button-down shirt and oversized chinos approached her. She stood to greet him. “Martin?”

He nodded and ran his hand through his thick, silver hair. “I hope I’m not too late.” His eyes darted back and forth across the street, lingering on the courthouse entrance to their left and the sheriffs posted near the door. Finally his shoulders relaxed and he held out his hand.

She shook the limp, sweaty palm then picked up her briefcase. “Not at all. I’m glad you changed your mind about giving evidence, and I know Martha is too.”

“I wanted to get my involvement in the whole thing straightened out before I leave and I need my conscience to be clear. Hopefully I can save some lives and help Martha out.”

Katy swallowed. “Why are you doing a deposition instead of going to the police, or even the press or the regulatory authorities?”

“If I involve the police, they won’t let me out of the country. I don’t trust the press. The story would disappear and so would I. As for the regulators, Hi-Tech is a powerful company. They have the money to bribe anyone and top-notch lawyers to deal with those who stand in their way. You know what happened to Martha.”

Top-notch lawyers? Ha.
“You’re very cynical.”

Martin shrugged. “Realistic. I’ve been in the business a long time. Too long. I’m looking forward to my retirement. I leave the country this afternoon and I’ll never come back.”

Katy shivered at his ominous tone. “Did you bring any documents? I’ll need to make copies before the deposition.”

Martin sighed. “Unfortunately, no. After I gave my notice the security guards wouldn’t let me back in the lab—not even to pick up my personal items. I wish I’d been able to take my personal journals. I made a duplicate handwritten copy of everything—every experiment, every trial, every result. When I first started out as a scientist, the journals were protocol. Now everything is on the computer. But old habits die hard.”

“We might be able to get them through the discovery process, if we can establish relevance,” Katy offered. “After the trial, you could have them back.”

Martin shuffled his feet and made yet another visual sweep of the street. “I know it’s just going to be us and no one from Hi-Tech knows we’re here, but I would feel safer if we went inside.”

Katy frowned. “Hi-Tech’s lawyer knows you’re here. I thought you understood. A deposition is like a mini trial. I go through your direct evidence and then he will cross examine you.”

Martin froze and his eyes widened. “Hi-Tech knows I’m here?”

“I’m sure Mr. Richards, their defense counsel, would have told them about the deposition. He might not be the one appearing today, but someone will be here to represent Hi-Tech.” The skin on her neck prickled, whether in response to Martin’s sudden agitation or something else, she didn’t know.

Martin grabbed her hand and squeezed it until the bones moved over each other. “Oh God. What have I done? I thought it was just you. I’ve kept quiet for so long and they’ve left me alone. But now….” His head jerked and he looked from side to side. “Quickly! We need to get inside.”

“What is it? What are you afraid of?”

Martin tugged on her hand. “They’ll come after me. I know too much. It’s all a big cover-up. There never was a chemical spill. No lab accident. Those men on the list were—”

A loud crack startled her. Martin’s eyes widened and he looked down. A red stain appeared on his shirt, flowering quickly across the cotton expanse. He grunted and lunged toward her.

Katy stepped back, trying to get away. Her heel hit something heavy, and she fell backward, pulling Martin on top of her. Another shot sounded. And then pain carried her away.

“Ohgodohgodohgod.”

Lana spun around, snapping pictures wildly, then dropped her camera on the ground and fumbled for her phone.
911911911911
. The numbers raced through her head, but before she could make the call she heard sirens. Sheriffs and police swarmed around the bodies lying in front of the courthouse and pressed the crowds back.

She held her breath.
Getupgetupgetup. Please get up. You have children, a happy divorce, a great job and a man who looks at you like nothing else exists in the world. Pleasepleaseplease get up.

But she didn’t get up. Ambulances arrived. Two. She heard the shouts of the officers calling to the attendants.
Two victims. Both unconscious. Serious. Very serious.

The police pushed the crowds back and she watched them lift her onto the stretcher. Blood. So much blood. Her head, her clothes, her face. Even her beautiful shoes.

She heard his hoarse cry before she saw him. The mystery man. Running toward the ambulance. His black coat flying behind him. God, he ran fast. Calling for her. Pushing and shouting at the ambulance attendants to let him through.

And they did. Something in his face backed them down.

He saw her and staggered back. But he recovered quickly. He stepped closer and stroked her hair and her cheek and then he leaned over and whispered in her ear. Even though she couldn’t hear him.

Tears streamed down Lana’s face. The sirens wailed and the ambulances drove away. The mystery man stood still as a statue, watching them go. She ached to go to him. Wrap her arms around him, comfort him and take comfort herself. She felt as though she knew the subject as well as any friend. Maybe better.

No, not the subject. Katherine.
Katherine Sinclair.

Or, as the mystery man had shouted, his voice breaking as he ran…Katy.

Chapter Fifteen

Katy opened her eyes to a sea of white.

Didn’t I just paint the bedroom mauve?

She looked around and tried to turn her head.
Pain.
Her neck ached, her shoulder throbbed and fatigue weighed her body down. She couldn’t move. Not even a finger.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She frowned at the noise intruding on her quiet until she realized it had always been there. That and the cloying smell of…antiseptic.

Steven? Working late again?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

No. Not Steven.

She tried to lift her hand and a sharp pain shot up her arm. A cold, plastic tube rubbed over her skin. It led to a plastic bag hanging on a pole beside her.

IV. Hospital. What am I doing here?

“Katy.” A rich, deep voice startled her. “How are you feeling?” She strained to turn her head. Her heart thudded. The beeping increased. She knew the dark, handsome man beside her. She knew the warmth in his brown eyes, the softness of his sable hair, the contours of his jaw, thick with stubble. But not the exhaustion lining his face. And not his name.

Her heart seized up at a barely remembered pain. She whimpered, a soft sound not meant to be heard by anyone. Especially him.

He stood up immediately and cupped her cheek in his palm. “What’s wrong, sugar?”

Sugar.
The term of endearment warmed her inside but her mind stayed muddy. Good guy or bad guy? She couldn’t remember and the strain of trying to wade out of the confusion made her head ache.