SB03 - The Defender's Duty Page 2

  “We’ve always been friends.”

  “Friends are people you let into your life. That’s not something you’ve done with anyone in the family for a long time.” Grayson spoke without heat, but the words were a direct blow to the heart, and Jude stalked outside, away from Lacey’s curious gaze. Cold pavement numbed the soles of his feet. Too bad it wasn’t cold enough to do the same to the insistent ache in his legs or the throbbing guilt in his stomach. He wanted his family far away when the killer struck again, but he didn’t want to hurt them anymore than he already had. “If that’s the way everyone feels, I owe you all an apology.”

  “What you owe us is a promise that you’ll take care of yourself. We love you, Jude. And we’re worried.”

  “Don’t be. I’m fine.”

  “I think I’ve heard that a hundred times these past few weeks. I haven’t believed it once.” Gray sighed, and Jude’s guilt multiplied. He’d moved to New York to sever the bonds that had held him so tightly to his family. He’d needed space, time to be himself, a place where he could live life without his parents and siblings watching him. Judging him. He’d found it, but he’d lost something in the process. He hadn’t realized just how much until he’d come to Lynchburg and been enfolded in his family’s embrace once again. It made it hurt all the more to have to keep them at a distance.

  “You don’t need to worry about me, Gray.”

  “Yeah. I do. I’m your older brother. It’s my job.”

  “So worry, but let me take care of myself.”

  “How about we talk about this when the sun is up?” Typical Grayson. Changing the subject rather than conceding. At the moment, Jude had too many other things to worry about. He’d set boundaries for his brother after he figured out who was trying to kill him.

  “Fine. Name your time.”

  “Sunday after church. Honor and I have some news. That will be as good a time as any to share it. How about we come over your place?”

  “Sure.” Grayson’s news could only be one thing. He and Honor must be engaged. Good news for Grayson and the woman he’d fallen in love with. Great news for Jude. With wedding plans in the works, Grayson would have something to focus on besides getting Jude’s life in order.

  “And keep the home-care aide. At least until then, okay?”

  “Maybe.” Jude hung up before he and his brother could go another round. Better to save the argument until after Jude had gotten rid of Lacey. Once she was gone, there wouldn’t be much Grayson could do about it. And maybe this time he’d get the hint and not hire another aide.

  “Did you get everything straightened out?” Lacey stepped outside.

  “Depends on what you mean by everything.”

  “Did your brother verify who I am?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. The sooner I get unpacked and settled in for the night, the happier I’ll be.”

  “Just because he verified who you were doesn’t mean you’re staying.”

  “Actually, it does.” She smiled sweetly, but Jude had a feeling there was steel beneath her charming facade.

  “Look, lady—”

  “Lacey. Your brother signed a contract. I don’t think he plans to break it. So, for the next month, whether you like it or not, I’m going to be hanging around and helping out.” For someone who looked so young, she had a strong sense of self and a degree of confidence that usually came with time and experience. Still, he doubted she’d be any more difficult to get rid of than the other four aides had been.

  “That’s up for debate.”

  “How about we talk about it in the morning?”

  “How about we have some more coffee and talk about it now?” He walked into the house, knowing Lacey was following. He needed to lay things on the line for her, let her know that she wasn’t staying, and then he’d say goodbye and watch Lacey Carmichael walk out of his life. Because the last thing he needed was one more complication, and it seemed to Jude that was exactly what Lacey was going to be.

  TWO

  Adrenaline still thrummed through Lacey’s veins as she followed her new client inside. After sixteen hours of driving, she’d thought she’d slip into the duplex she’d be staying in for the next month, eat one of the packs of crackers she had in her suitcase and then get a few hours of sleep. She’d never imagined she’d find herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

  Someone had made a mistake and given the wrong house number. Whether it was her supervisor or Grayson Sinclair, Lacey didn’t know. All she knew was that it could have cost her her life.

  “Before we discuss whether you’re staying or going, I’d like the key to my place.”

  “I’ll need it so I can get back in tomorrow morning. I wouldn’t want to have to wake you.”

  “Hate to break the news to you, but it already is tomorrow morning, and you’re already in my house.” He held out a hand, and Lacey dropped the key into it. “Thanks. Coffee?”

  “No. Thanks. I’ve already had a dozen cups today.”

  “I guess that explains your shaking hands.” He smirked, his deep-gray eyes almost as unnerving as the gun he still held.

  “Looking down the barrel of a gun will do that to a person.”

  “Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting company.” He limped across the living room and sat down, his dark hair falling across his forehead and partially concealing a scar that ran from his temple into his hairline. He’d been close to death but had survived. In that, she and Jude were alike.

  “Do you always point guns at unexpected guests?”

  “Only when they walk in uninvited. Grayson said you weren’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow. You said you’re here early because you didn’t want to waste money on a hotel room.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I was thinking it wouldn’t be wasted money since your company is probably paying for your travel expenses, so I’m wondering why you decided to drive straight through.”

  Jude was a homicide detective. Lacey had learned that from the client information she’d received before she’d left Chicago. She just hadn’t expected him to use his interrogation skills on her. “Are you always this suspicious?”

  “Only when someone breaks into my house at two in the morning.”

  “It’s not breaking in if that person has a key.”

  “Which doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Too much coffee. There was no sense wasting money on a room I wasn’t going to be able to sleep in. Even if it was Helping Hand’s money.” It was the only excuse she could come up with. The truth was much too complicated to tell and wasn’t something she planned to share with a stranger. No matter how handsome and compelling he might be.

  Handsome?

  Compelling?

  She was a lot more shaken than she’d thought if she was using those words to describe one of her clients.

  “You’ve been on the road a long time. Where were you coming from?”

  “Chicago.”

  “You were working there?”

  “Yes. I had an elderly client who suffered from dementia. I’ve been living with her for the past eight months.”

  “And you left her to take the job my brother offered?”

  “I never leave clients until they don’t need me any more.”

  “People don’t recover from dementia.” Jude pressed for more information. Lacey didn’t mind giving it. Part of building a good working relationship required sharing a few tidbits of personal information. It had taken a few years for Lacey to realize how important that was, but once she had, she’d been able to pick and choose the information she’d shared, offering just enough to make her clients feel comfortable without giving too much of herself away.

  “Mrs. Simpson passed away four days ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I am, too, but she lived her life well until the end. And now I’m here for you.”

  “Actually, you’re here for my family. Like I said before, I don’t need a home-care aid
e.”

  “Are you trying to fire me?”

  “I’m just stating a fact. I don’t need help. You’re here because it makes my brother feel like he’s in control of things.”

  “Your brother is concerned about you.”

  “My brother is a typical oldest child. He thinks the world is his to command. I’ve spent most of my life trying to prove him wrong.”

  Surprised, she laughed, her tension easing. This she could handle. A client talking about his life? Piece of cake. “I take it you haven’t succeeded yet.”

  “Not quite, but I’m still working on it.”

  “Good luck with that.” She stifled a yawn. Despite too much coffee, exhaustion stole her energy and made her want nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week.

  “Looks like that drive really wore you out.” Jude studied her face as if she were a mystery he had to solve. The thought made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want to be studied, and she certainly didn’t want to be solved.

  “It did. I think I’ll go next door and get settled in. I really am sorry for waking you.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping.” He stood, walking to the front door with her, his slightly hitched stride speaking of the injuries he’d suffered.

  “Can I get anything for you before I go next door? Something to eat? Medicine?”

  “Lacey, I’m a grown man. If I need any of those things, I’ll get them myself.”

  “Not while I’m around. Your brother hired me—”

  “To be a home-care aide. Yeah. I get that.” He ran a hand down his jaw and shook his head. “But you need to get that I don’t need you here. Go next door. We’ll talk more about why you’re not staying after we both get some sleep.”

  “Just so you know.” Lacey stepped outside, shivering in the cold winter air. “I’m planning to stay.”

  “Just so you know, I’m the one who will be making that decision.” Jude scowled, his eyes flashing with irritation.

  “We’ll see.” She offered her best smile, pulled her suitcase inside the other half of the duplex and closed the door, blocking her view of Jude and his deep-gray eyes.

  Her heart beat a little too fast and a little too hard, but at least her legs weren’t shaking anymore. Dealing with difficult clients was something she did well, but Jude wasn’t like any client she’d ever worked with before. He was younger. Better-looking.

  Lacey frowned.

  A client was a client. Jude was no different from any other man she’d worked with over the past few years.

  She ran her hand along the foyer wall, flicking on the light as she had in Jude’s house. She half expected to see a man standing in the living room pointing a gun in her direction. There wasn’t one. Just a sofa and a chair, both in decent shape. A coffee table and an end table. A fireplace.

  It was a cozy room and perfect for Lacey. She hummed as she walked down a short hallway and into a roomy kitchen, filling the silence and distracting herself from the fear that hadn’t quite let her go. It was a remnant of a past she preferred to forget. After all, what was in the past couldn’t hurt her anymore. All it could do was teach her how to live her life today.

  The kitchen appliances were dated but serviceable, the floor faded linoleum. A sliding glass door led out into the backyard. Lacey opened it, stepping outside and shivering in the cold. A full moon peeked over the treetops, casting green light onto the overgrown backyard. Aside from the wind, nothing moved. The silent stillness seemed heavy and oppressive. Unnatural.

  Lacey cocked her head, listening. Waiting. When she’d been a kid, she’d learned how to do both. Then it had been a matter of survival. Now it was simply a matter of curiosity. Something unsettling was in the air. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she couldn’t ignore it. She glanced around the dark yard. It was small and hid nothing from view.

  A few straggly plants butted up against a tall fence. A white bench stood close to the house and two gates offered entrances and exits to the yard, one at the back of the property, the other on the side of the fence that separated Lacey’s yard from Jude’s. There was nothing else. She stepped back and closed the door, locking it and pulling the bolt. Whatever she’d felt, it was outside, not in the cozy house she was going to be living in for the next month.

  Her own place.

  It had been a long time since she’d had that. There’d been a few times over the past ten years when she’d rented an apartment, but most of her assignments came with free board. That usually meant living in the spare room in a crowded apartment or cluttered house. Having a two-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath duplex to herself was sheer luxury. Lacey planned to enjoy it.

  The thought made her smile, but it didn’t chase away her unease. Maybe the long ride and lack of sleep had gotten to her. Or maybe seeing Jude glaring at her over the barrel of his gun had knocked her off balance. Either way, Lacey was sure she’d feel better after a few hours’ sleep. First, though, she needed to eat.

  She searched through her suitcase, sure that she had a few packages of crackers there. When she didn’t find them, she went to the front door, hesitating for a moment before she opened it. Outside, the heaviness of the air had lifted and the silence seemed more natural. Still, she wasn’t sure she wanted to step across the threshold and walk outside.

  Then again, she wasn’t sure she wanted to spend the next few hours hungry.

  Her Mustang was parked a few feet from the porch and it would only take seconds to grab the duffel bag she’d left in the passenger’s seat. She knew she had pretzels and a Coke in there. Her stomach rumbled, cementing her decision.

  She hurried down the porch stairs and opened the car door, grabbing the duffel and locking the car again. “We wouldn’t want someone to steal you, Bess. Another hundred thousand miles and you’ll officially be a relic. Don’t worry, I won’t get rid of you. I’ll just get you a nip and a tuck and a brand-new engine.”

  “Do you always talk to your car?” The voice was as deep and rich as dark chocolate, and Lacey recognized it immediately.

  She pivoted, searching the shadows until she caught sight of Jude’s tall, rangy form near the corner of the house. His shoulder was pressed against the siding as if he needed the support to stay on his feet.

  That concerned Lacey, and she walked to his side, studying his face in the moon’s reflected light. “Bess isn’t a car. She’s a personality.”

  “She looks it. How long have you had her?”

  “I bought her when I was a senior in high school.”

  “So, that was what? Five years ago?”

  “I’m flattered, but high school was a few more years ago than that.”

  “Seven, then. Or eight.”

  “Try eleven.”

  “That makes you, what? Twenty-nine?”

  “Twenty-eight. Soon to be twenty-nine. Not that I’m counting or anything.” She smiled, wishing she could see his face more clearly.

  Why was he outside leaning against the house instead of inside sleeping?

  If she’d known him better, she would have asked. Lots of her clients suffered from insomnia. Some because of pain. Others because they knew the end was near and didn’t want to miss a minute of time. She had a feeling something else had Jude up wandering around outside in the wee hours of the morning.

  “Why wouldn’t you want to count? You’re still a babe in the woods.”

  “Not even close.” She unzipped the duffel and pulled out the bag of pretzels, opening it quickly and eating one. What she really wanted was chocolate. Lots of it. Based on what she’d seen so far, working for Jude was going to be a three-chocolate-bar-a-day job. She should have grabbed her emergency supply from the glove compartment, but there was no way she was going to do it now. Not while Jude was watching with dark, curious eyes.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Let me guess. You didn’t want to waste money stopping to eat on your way here.”

  “Something like that.” And she hadn’t wanted to
stop until she’d reached the assignment. She liked being busy. Downtime wasn’t something she handled well. Fortunately, Helping Hands had plenty of business, and Lacey never had more than a day or two when she wasn’t working.

  “Then I wouldn’t want to keep you from your early-morning snack. Enjoy it.” He straightened and limped toward the back of the house, dismissing Lacey with an abruptness that other people might have found rude.

  Lacey found it telling.

  Pain often made people want to hide away from the world. According to his client file, Jude had been living with intense pain for two months. Who knew what was on his mind or in his heart because of it?

  She fell into step beside him.

  “Pretzel?” She held out the bag, but Jude ignored it.

  “Go inside, Lacey. I didn’t need you an hour ago, and I don’t need you now.”

  “Who said anything about need? You’re awake. I’m awake. Why not spend some time getting to know each other?”

  “I’m not in the mood for company.”

  “That doesn’t mean you don’t need some.”

  “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that much.” He smiled, the grim turn of his lips doing nothing to ease the harsh lines and angles of his face.

  “That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

  “I’m sure that’s what the other four aides my brother hired thought. They lasted a total of two and a half weeks.”

  “You sound proud of that.”

  “Do I?” He turned and headed back to the house, the long-sleeved T-shirt he wore not nearly enough protection against the cold. At least he’d put on shoes when he’d come outside this time.

  “I’ve worked with a lot tougher clients than you, Jude.”

  “You sound proud of that.”

  Lacey laughed, surprised that the grim-faced man beside her had any humor in him at all. “We’re all good at something. I’m good at dealing with people like you.”

  “Like me?”