Risking Trust (27 page)

“I’d love to believe that, but let’s not count on it.”

“I
am
counting on it. We’ve come too far to let it end with you in here. Even if we weren’t involved, I’d want to figure out who killed Alicia. Innocent people shouldn’t go to jail.”

She believed he was innocent. Not much else mattered at the moment. He put his hand against the glass and she did the same.

“Please, don’t come back here. I love you, but I don’t want you in this place.”

She didn’t start huffing or pull her hand away. She just sat there.

“I needed to see you. And it’s nice to hear you love me. Tell me again when you get out of here. That’s the one I want to remember. I’ll tell you, too, but not in here.”

She loved him. He had hoped for it and now he knew.

He slid his hand away from the glass. “Please don’t come here again.”

Tears simmered in her eyes and he looked away.
Damn.

“You won’t be here long.”

He almost felt sorry for her. “Roxi, I might not get out.”

“What am I supposed to do? Leave here? Forget what’s happened? Let you go again?”

He jabbed his thumb and index finger into his forehead to quiet the hammering that had started there. “You might have to.”

She smacked a hand against the glass. “Stop it.”

The guard stuck his head in again and Michael waved him off.
No problem here, sir
.
You son of a bitch.
He gripped the phone tighter trying to control his temper. “What if I’m convicted and they send me out of state? Will you come every other weekend for a conjugal visit?”

Roxann narrowed her eyes. “Now you’re being cruel.”

“Maybe, but it could happen. You deserve better.”

The door to the visiting area opened and Roadmap yelled, “Five minutes.”

“Great,” she said. “We’ve spent the whole time arguing. Well, guess what?”

He stared at her because if he’d learned anything in his lifetime it was not to interrupt Roxann when she was about to rip him one.

“You’re not forcing your decision on me. You forced it on me twelve years ago and look how that worked out. If I want to see you, I
will
come here. Get used to it.”

She slammed the phone into its cradle, scraped the chair back and strode out without a goodbye. Great visit.

Damn, he loved that woman.

“Mayor Implicated in Mob Scandal. Now that’s a headline.” Roxann dropped the newspaper on her kitchen table and reached for the phone to retrieve messages. Every muscle ached and she entertained the idea of crawling into bed. So what if it was only nine o’clock? The phone in her hand grew heavier with each passing second and she contemplated not listening to the messages. She’d been on the phone all day, mostly defending the
Banner
’s editorial content. Even publishers deserved a break.

There had been one call from Rick Turnbull regarding the pressmen. The men, after hearing one of their own had sabotaged the press, decided to review her last offer and wanted to meet again next week to work out an agreement. Finally, after holding her ground, she could put that contract to rest.

She dialed her voice mail. Why not? When it came to the
Banner
, she always had a little fight left. Besides, the only call she was interested in would be her mother’s. They’d been phone tagging all day and Roxann wanted to update her.

Yesterday, Vic had told Roxann about Craig’s gambling problem and, after Phil’s hard work, the story was now on page one.

Wingate’s son was part of a south side crew that ran the mob’s illegal gambling operation in Chicago. Phil took that information to the former director of streets and sanitation and, after Roxann tapped her friends at the state attorney’s office to get him immunity, he admitted he set up a meeting between Wingate’s son and the mayor. Carl Biehl also attended the meeting.

At that meeting, Wingate’s son told the mayor about Craig’s gambling problem and offered to help with the
Banner
issue. Helping the mayor meant forgiving Craig’s gambling debt if he’d disable the presses.

Roxann now had answers to her pressroom problem. Alicia’s murderer was still out there, but they were getting close. Now, more than ever, she was sure someone in the mayor’s office had killed Alicia. She just didn’t know why.

It had been a whirlwind day. They’d printed an extra fifty-thousand copies to increase the draw, but even with those extra rack copies, it still wasn’t enough. The
Banner
was a hit.

The mayor was not. Roxann never would have believed him capable of such treachery, but she supposed power could transform a person.

Damn him.

It was business and the mayor made it personal. Roxann balled her fists and her nails pricked her palms.
Ouch
. And what about Carl’s involvement? He and the mayor should rot in prison.

The doorbell rang and she grunted.
Please, leave me alone
.

She walked to the front door, peeked out the peep-hole. Her breath clogged. This, she could not believe.
Breathe
.

With the chain still on the door, she opened it an inch. “Good evening, Mr. Mayor.”

This man, his clothes and hair a rumpled mess, could not be the mayor she knew. His bloodshot, menacing eyes were the worst. She thought about shutting the door.

“Need to talk to you.” His voice held the low growl of fatigue and something else…what?

Intoxication.

Oh, bad, bad, bad. She stole a look behind him. Where was his driver? His security detail? Could he be alone?

“Give me a minute.”

Roxann closed the door, leaned into it. Fear licked at her and she swallowed. She should tell him to leave. Being alone with an intoxicated man whose career her newspaper had ruined would not be a wise choice.

But maybe he wanted to clear his conscience and if she sent him away she’d lose the opportunity.

She reached for the phone on the end table and dialed the only person she thought could help. Hopefully, Max would put their differences aside for one evening and help her deal with his boss.

“It’s Roxann. I need help. The mayor is at my door. He looks drunk and, well, I’m scared.”

She’d never spoken those words. She wouldn’t have allowed herself to admit it, but sometimes pride had no business horning in.

“I’ll be right over,” Max said. No argument, no gloating.
Thank you.

She wasted a few minutes to give Max time. The mayor pounded on the door and, for a moment, she thought about not speaking to him at all.

The nagging began. He came to her house for a reason. If he wanted to yell at her, he’d have done it over the phone. The mayor had something on his mind and, with any luck, it had to do with Alicia Taylor.

Time to find out. She’d talk to him on the porch. Safer outside. Her neighbors could hear her scream. She’d take the cordless with her though.

Unwilling to risk opening the front door and have him push through, Roxann walked to the kitchen, pulled her running shoes from the closet and slipped them on.

She strode out the back door and through the alley with her hands twitching.
Be still
.

The mayor spotted her on the sidewalk and stepped off the porch, his stride fast, but not aggressive. He halted a few feet in front of her wearing a wrinkled suit and hollow eyes. To her, he appeared worn and battered. She refused to feel sorry for him. Not after what he’d done. He’d been a good mayor once, a great mayor, and now he was a criminal.

“Mr. Mayor, what are you doing here?”

He glared at her with those dead eyes. “I made my choices. I did. I got greedy, but I’ve done a good job for this city.”

Stall.
Don’t agitate him
. “I know you have.”

“Everything I worked for in my life has been destroyed by two women who’ve been fucked by Mike Taylor.”

Whoa.
The venom in his voice smacked at Roxann’s nerves and she retreated a step. “Excuse me?”

“You insulted?”

“I’m insulted that your way of dealing with my newspaper was to disable my press. And what does taking bribes have to do with Michael Taylor?”

He stalked the walkway. “That crazy bitch. I told Carl to take care of it. And what did she do? She used it against us.”

Roxann waited. This was it. And she was alone. Didn’t that figure? It’d be her word against his and who knew what the public would believe?

“Used it against you how?” She had to get him to say it. “You know I can help you. Tell me about Alicia Taylor. Make this right.”

He turned toward her again, their eyes meeting. His breathing quieted and he dragged his hand over his mouth. Three times. “She was blackmailing me. Threatened to go to the press over Wingate’s payoffs. I could have denied any knowledge of it and fired anyone involved. We would have gotten away with it, but Carl was nervous. Kept trying to convince her to stop.”

Roxann listened and waited for the telling sign of his involvement with Alicia Taylor’s death, but the information came too fast for her to analyze.

Somehow, probably through her relationship with Carl, Alicia had known about the corruption and had foolishly tried to blackmail the mayor. This man was a political powerhouse. She should have known, one way or another, he’d destroy her.

Where was Max? The mayor’s anger escalated again and she hoped her uncle would arrive before it spilled over. Max could calm him. The man was his boss and Max knew the intricacies of his temper.

“Mr. Mayor, what are you trying to tell me?”

“Roxann!”

She spun to see Max charging around the corner of the house. Relief surged. He stopped and did a quick survey of the mayor’s appearance.

“Doug, what the hell are you doing here?”

The mayor shrugged. “It’s over, Max.”

“Get in the house, Roxann.” Max didn’t take his eyes from the mayor.

“Max—”

He turned toward her with gritted teeth. “In the house.”

No way. Not with Michael’s life on the line. But Max had that determined look to him.

“Fine. Talk to him, but I want to hear his side of this mess. He knows something about Alicia Taylor. He’s already told me most of it and I’m going inside to call Phil. I’d better get the rest or it’ll be a half told story and the first half isn’t good.”

She turned to leave, but the mayor lunged at her, grabbed her throat. She tried to step back, slapped at his arms, but he squeezed harder and she gagged, felt the bulge of her eyes. Her pulse pounded against his thumb. He’d kill her. She saw it in his eyes.

A murderer.

“Bitch.”

Max hauled the mayor off and, with the speed of a well-trained black belt, rammed a brutal strike into the man’s nose. A horrid crunch followed and Roxann reeled backward into the brick steps. Off balance, she landed on her butt.

The mayor hit the ground, his body limp and still against the concrete.
Dammit. Wake him up. Get answers.

Max dropped to his knees and checked for a pulse. “Shit, Doug.”

“Help him!” She needed to call 9-1-1. Where was the phone?

Max, lost in his thoughts, stared down at his unconscious boss. He finally glanced at Roxann but made no movement to help. Shock? Had to be.

“Call for help,” she said.

Max finally jumped from the ground, folded his arms over his head and paced. “Fuck.”

“Call someone.”

“He’s dead.”

“
Dead
?” She ignored the ache in her tailbone and stood. “He can’t be.”

He may have been a corrupt politician, but he didn’t deserve to die.

Max scrubbed his hands over his face. “Shit.”

Roxann glanced back at the mayor’s blood-soaked face and swallowed hard.
Don’t look at him
.
Don’t look at him
. Sickness filled her and she tilted her head skyward, inhaling and exhaling. She turned to Max, who had lowered himself to the steps and covered his face with his hands. The superintendent of police, a man that had spent his life protecting the community, had just killed his boss.

She walked to him, grabbed his wrists and pulled. “It was an accident. You thought he was going to hurt me.”

And now the man was dead on her front walk. The ground suddenly shifted under three of Max’s feet. Three? Then her knees buckled and the blackness came.

“You’re all right, Rox. You passed out.”

The voice, familiar, but distant penetrated her mind. A tunnel maybe? She opened her eyes and saw Max’s face above her. Turning her head, she saw the stairs leading to her second floor and surmised she was on the couch in her own living room. Safe. She took a breath, reached a hand to Max and he guided her to a sitting position.

“Take it slow.” He jerked his chin toward a uniformed officer. “Get her some water.”

The horror of the situation began to settle and she shuddered with a violence that nearly broke her. She curled her knees into her chest, rested her forehead on them and counted to three. Hold on.
Just hold on
.

Max knelt beside her. “Janie is coming over. Your mother doesn’t know. I didn’t want to upset her. I’ll tell her later.”

“We should do it together. It involves both of us.”

He placed his big hand on top of her head and gently rubbed. “We’ll do it together.”

She sucked in a long breath and let it out slow. Her body warmed and a sudden quiet filled her system. “Thank you for being here. I don’t know what he’d have done.”

“I’ll always take care of you, Rox.”

The sound of the back door crashing open prompted them, including the uniformed officer, to peer down the long corridor toward a charging Janie.

“Here we go,” she said, anticipating the wrath of Hurricane Janie.

Thirty minutes later, after hearing Roxann’s version of the story, Janie said, “You need sleep. You’re coming to my house. The cop outside says you can’t stay here. They need to work.”

Janie propped her hands on her hips, and Roxann thought it would be nice to evaporate into the couch rather than deal with Janie in school marm mode.

“Not yet,” Roxann said. “I want some answers on whether they’re going to release Michael.”

“Michael, Schmicheal. It’s late and, if I know you, you’ll be getting up at six for a run and then off to work. Besides, the cops won’t have this sorted out until morning. And Rox, the mayor is dead. D-e-a-d. Max said something about bone fragments into the brain and a hemorrhage. I don’t think Michael is going to be top priority.”

“I know he’s d-e-a-d. I saw him die. On my front walk. At my uncle’s hands.” A wave of nausea crept its way up and burrowed into her throat. “I’m going to be sick.”

Janie shoved Roxann’s head between her knees and bolted to the kitchen.

“Here.” She handed Roxann a plastic bag while sliding next to her.

Roxann stuck her face in the bag, but nothing came. The story of her life lately. Nothing went as planned. Her entire body was an abandoned building about to crumble.

She’d run through her emotional reserves over the past six weeks and was beaten and tired and scared. Rolling herself to the side, she settled her head on Janie’s lap as her battered existence played over and over inside her head.

“Come to my house, Rox. Just sleep for awhile. It’ll be better in the morning.”

“I love him.”

Janie sighed and brushed a hand over Roxann’s head. “I know you do, honey.”

A dull bumping irritated her and Roxann slapped at the invader. Finally asleep and someone had the nerve to wake her up.

“Don’t be smacking at me,” Janie said. “You’ve got company.”

Roxann flipped to her other side. “Go away.”

“I’m not the one insisting on seeing you.”

“Then tell
them
to go away.”

Janie laughed.

“You might want to talk to this person.”

“Ugh.” Roxann peeled her eyes open, felt the soft material of Janie’s couch against her nose. “What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty. And, by the way, you missed your run. I’ll tell your guest to come in.”

“Wait.” Roxann hoped to get cleaned up for what she assumed would be a detective questioning her again. Too late. Janie had already told them to come on in.
Thanks so much
.

With practiced hands, she tied her hair into a pony tail. It would have to do, but brushing her hairy teeth had to happen pronto.

She missed her run. Again. For the five-hundredth time. At least now, she didn’t get upset anymore. She had bigger things to worry about.

“Good morning.”

That deep toned voice snapped her head sideways. She had to be dreaming. She blinked and focused, and Michael appeared in front of her. Her heart tripped like a jackhammer and she leaped off the couch and into his arms.

She kissed every inch of his face, hairy teeth and all, just to be sure he was really there. His cheeks bunched into a smile and she kissed harder.

Finally, she stepped back and took in the wrinkled shorts and T-shirt he’d been wearing when arrested. “When did they let you out? What happened?” She punched her fist into her other hand. “I knew I shouldn’t have slept.”

“They released me about half an hour ago. Reporters were everywhere. Arnie snuck me out through the underground garage at the jail.”

“Did they tell you what happened?”

He closed his eyes, pulled her close. “Yeah. You must have been terrified.”

She thought about it a minute and hugged Michael closer. “It happened so fast. Max helped me.”

“He can be a son of a bitch, but I’m glad he was there for you.”

She rested her head against Michael’s chest, ran her fingers over his shirt just for the comfort of being near him. “They think the mayor killed Alicia. He admitted she was blackmailing him.”

“Did he say he did it?”

“No and it’s bugging me. He was about to say something about the murder when Max showed up.”

“According to my lawyer, Carl backed the story. Said he didn’t know anything about the murder, but that the mayor was adamant Alicia needed to be dealt with. With Max’s help, they got me released in a hurry.”

“Well, sure. The mayor’s dead now. Carl can blame everything on him. Maybe Carl was involved and he’s using the mayor to save himself.”

Michael pushed her to arm’s length and drilled her with a look. “Let it go. It’s not perfect, but they got the bad guy. And without you, it wouldn’t have happened.”

They got the bad guy. Michael had won his freedom. Why analyze it? “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“All of it. You didn’t deserve to be humiliated.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes life sucks.”

“Yep.”

“I missed you, Roxi. I could have given everything else up, but I couldn’t think about never being able to touch you again. That drove me nuts.”

He leaned down to kiss her and she slapped her hand over her mouth.

“Hairy teeth. I have to brush. Then I’ll suck your face off.”

He waited for her. He would have preferred to follow her up and find a bedroom, but this was Janie’s house and he’d never disrespect her that way. Suddenly, all he could think about was getting Roxann into bed. He’d only been in jail a few days, but it could have been five hundred.

He had slept on the pitiful excuse for a cot making all kinds of deals with God, begging for freedom. He’d never been a deal maker when it came to God. He typically just trusted the plan, no matter how screwed up it seemed, but this time things had changed. He’d spent half his adult life wishing to have Roxann back and it had finally happened.

Until he got locked up. Life in a cage would not do. That’s when he started making deals.

Roxann came downstairs and grinned at him. She’d washed up and her hair hung loose around her shoulders. The way he liked it. What a kicker.

“You’ve had a rough night,” he said. “Why not take a day off? Go back to bed. With me.”

Without taking her eyes from his, she grabbed her cell phone from the end table. “It’s me,” she said into the phone. “I won’t be in today. If there’s an emergency you can call me, otherwise, do your Stonewall thing. Thank you.”

She hung up and sat on the couch.

“You really should get some sleep.”

Roxann shrugged. “I need a run.”

“Forget it. You’ve got a herd of press looking for you. Come home with me. I’ve got my guys there holding off reporters. I’ll sneak you in and you can use the gym in my building.”

“You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be okay. Your parents are probably wondering where you are.”

He shook his head. “I called them. Told them I’d be over in awhile. I want to go home first. Shower in my own bathroom. You really look beat, Roxi.”

“I am beat. Maybe I’ll take a nap at your place.”

“Good idea. I’ll have Vic come over when I leave to see my folks.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s over now and Vic has better things to do than babysit me. I’ll keep everything locked up.”

“Humor me.”

He wasn’t leaving her alone. Even if he did live in a secure building.

Roxann shrugged. “For once, I’m not going to argue.”

“Good.” The tingling up his spine told him she’d given up
way
too easily.