Seeing Double (A Heartbreaker Novel Book 1) Page 4

  His stepbrother sat with his arms crossed, looking like a beach bum in an expensive suit. He sent Michael a sneer. “You lucky dog. I might divorce my wife just so I can fulfill all of Annalisa Botelli’s needs.”

  Wary, Michael glanced at Ron, who was chuckling. The man would bill his own mother to write up a will.

  Ron said, “Annalisa would like the pleasure of your company for dinner tonight. She’d like to uh . . . discuss the terms of one of her upcoming projects.”

  “Why me?” Being a trial lawyer, he didn’t specialize in divorce and entertainment law like Ron and Chad. “I’ve only worked on Dani’s issues in case they went to court. Why wouldn’t one of you look over Annalisa’s projects?”

  Ron’s lips tilted into a smirk. “I doubt she wants to talk contracts. You’re young, fairly handsome, recently single, and she likes men who work out. But she doesn’t poach, so since I’ve been married to your mother, I haven’t been able to help her in the way she might expect from you tonight. I want to be sure that you—Mr. Morality—understand that Annalisa is our largest, most profitable client, and whatever she wants she gets.”

  Michael stared into Ron’s eyes for a long moment, trying to contain his rising temper. Michael had known Annalisa since he was a kid. She’d never want him that way. Would she? “I’ll be happy to have dinner and discuss any legal matters she has on her mind.”

  “See, Dad.” Chad snorted out a laugh. “I told you. It’s no wonder his ex-wife turned to women.” He swiveled toward Michael. “So that recent article in the Journal naming you as one of the top-ten eligible bachelors in town was just for show, wasn’t it? Oh sure, you were the man at one time, going from Joe College Superstar to the Dallas Cowboys, but that little unfortunate accident brought an end to all of that, didn’t it, sunshine? You date a lot of women, but you can’t keep one happy for long, can you, Michael?”

  He’d wanted to deck Chad for far too long, and here was his chance. Just as he clenched his fist to smash it into Chad’s slimy face, their secretary’s voice rang out. “Michael, your mother called. She’s running late and wants you to meet her at the restaurant.”

  He lowered his fist to his side and let out a long breath. Chad wasn’t worth it.

  “Thanks.” As he walked toward the hallway, Ron called out, “Tell your mother that despite our earlier . . . disagreement, I still expect her to host the dinner party tonight.”

  Michael shook his head as he punched the elevator button with his fist, wishing it were Chad’s face.

  When the doors parted in the empty elevator, he stepped inside and closed his eyes. His mother had sounded upset earlier when she’d invited him to lunch. She and Ron were obviously fighting again. He hated that Ron seemed to upset his mother almost daily lately.

  A chime sounded and the doors opened again. Michael stepped into the lobby, determined to blow off the bad energy from the Chad and Ron meeting. After shoving the glass office doors open, he made his way to his mom’s favorite restaurant a few blocks from his office.

  The aroma of garlic and red sauce made him smile as he stepped inside the quiet Italian restaurant. He scanned the tables adorned with red-and-white checkered tablecloths. In the middle of each one sat a wine bottle with multicolored wax drippings decorating the sides.

  His mother sat in a booth at the rear, her fair skin flushed and her green eyes lit with anger as she swiped at her shoulder-length dark-red hair. His mom appeared to be a delicate, beautiful woman on the outside, but she was Irish to the core, and her temper was nothing to scoff at.

  He slipped into the booth across from her. “Should I go home and grab my helmet and pads? You look madder than hell.”

  Maeve’s jaw clenched. “Ron’s side dish got dumped and called to tell me all about it.”

  The news gut-punched him. “Ron’s been cheating on you?”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes, as if trying to regain her composure. “And it’s not the first time.”

  “He’s done it before? And you didn’t tell me?” He wanted to beat the crap out of Ron—and his slimy kid, too.

  “When I caught him the last time, you’d just found out about your wife and her . . . girlfriend. I didn’t want to dump my problems on top of that. Heather was lucky I was engaged in my own battles, or I would have let her have it for the way you found out. She should have been honest with you.”

  The memory of that ugly incident a year and a half ago left him feeling as though he’d just been sucker punched—again. He’d tried to bury the betrayal he’d suffered but was still confused by it. He and Heather had usually had sex a few times a week the whole time they’d been married. They’d had two beautiful girls together, too. Carly and Amanda.

  It had come as a complete shock when he’d arrived home early from a business trip and found her in bed with another woman. Heather had once hinted that she’d experimented with women in college, but she’d made it sound like a one-time deal. But since the divorce, he’d found out Heather had lied about a lot of things. “I still don’t know how she kept something that big of a secret from me.”

  His mom waved her hand impatiently. “You didn’t know because Heather is an extremely attractive bisexual woman who uses sex as a weapon. I’m not sure she knows what it is to truly love, and while I think that’s sad, you couldn’t have known something about her that she doesn’t seem to understand about herself.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Laura, but it’s still embarrassing.”

  “It’s no reflection on you.” His mom picked up her menu and studied it. “But the way you’ve been chasing anything in a skirt makes me wonder if you’re trying to prove something to yourself. Serial dating isn’t making you happy, honey.”

  He needed to change the subject. “I’m more interested in your problem. Ron doesn’t deserve you. Let’s find you a good divorce lawyer.”

  “I can’t, Michael. Ron has all the money hidden away. When I threatened to leave him, he told me I’d never find it and I’d be left with nothing.” She lifted her moist eyes and met his gaze. “He knows I can’t afford to leave him. No one wants to hire a fifty-five-year-old woman whose only work experience was planning parties for a movie star years ago.”

  “You don’t have to worry about money. I’ll always take care of you, Mom.” He hated that Ron had stolen his mother’s self-esteem, turning her into his party-planning trophy wife.

  He took her hand. “After Dad died, you did an incredible job of taking care of us. You’re forgetting that you impressed Annalisa so much she offered you a great job, and she respected you enough to let us live in her guesthouse. You’re one tough broad, and Ron doesn’t have any idea who he’s messing with.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” Maeve narrowed her eyes. “But I didn’t say I was giving up. I’m going to find that money, then take what’s mine. Will you help me?”

  “I’ll start digging through his files this afternoon—assuming I can keep Annalisa’s princess out of jail.” He mentioned Dani because he hated to see his mother sad, and for some odd reason, the mention of Dani always brightened his mom’s mood.

  The creases in her forehead smoothed. “So, did you catch up with her at the courthouse?”

  “Yeah. She’s coming back to irritate me again this afternoon—that is, if she remembers our appointment.” He took a long drink of water as the morning’s events replayed in his mind. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to tell his mom about Dani’s run-in with the lunatic. She’d just worry about her.

  When his mom’s eyes lit up, just as they always did right before she was going to butt into his life again, he nearly moaned.

  She could barely contain her excitement as she leaned closer and said, “Speaking of Dani, you need to buy a house. Apartment life isn’t good for your girls. They need a yard to play in. Why don’t you ask her to help you?”

  He choked on his water. “Are you serious? Dani would make the simple process of buying a house a disaster.” He’d planned to buy a house for some t
ime but had been so busy at work he hadn’t gotten around to it.

  “She’s the daughter of one of your biggest clients. Annalisa would be upset if you used anyone else.” His mother picked up her menu again and studied it, letting her words settle in.

  “Look, while you find Dani—”

  “Charming and irresistible?”

  “I don’t need her drama. What I need is order in my life now that the dust has settled from my divorce.” He pretended to consider his menu, but his mom was right. He didn’t want to piss off their largest client.

  After running the problem around in his head for a few moments, he laid his menu down and glanced up in time to catch his mother trying to hide her smug smirk. “Okay. I’ll ask her. But only because it’ll be good for business.”

  “Good.” His mom’s smile bloomed. “Did she finally get Jake to sign the papers?”

  “No. But she needs to. He’s been nothing but trouble for her. Dani needs to find someone who’s a grown-up rather than . . .” He trailed off and stared at his menu again. He wasn’t going there.

  His mother leaned across the table and whispered, “That’s a whole lot of concern coming from a man who doesn’t want Dani’s drama. But until Jake signs the papers, you need to cool those jets, sweetheart.”

  “Believe me, there are no jets to cool here.” Or at least none he was going to act on. He’d always been attracted to Dani, but she’d been the one to abruptly end their friendship before he could tell her how he felt about her, not him, and she’d cut his heart out. Then Heather, the only other woman he’d ever loved, betrayed him. Who needed it?

  “Mmmm” was his mother’s quiet response.

  He shook his head and concentrated on the menu. It was futile to argue with his mother’s all-knowing hum. “Oh, I almost forgot. Ron said he was still expecting you to host some party tonight?”

  “Yeah. Like that’s going to happen. Ron can go straight to hell.”

  Dani stepped into the master bedroom of Jake’s latest crime scene, and her jaw dropped. As she scanned the humongous room, her eyes began to ache as badly as her face did. The curtains, bedspread, wallpaper, and even the carpet were all a shade of cotton-candy pink.

  “You’d better hope the husband doesn’t claim having to sleep in this room is grounds for an insanity plea. One look at this and no jury in the land would convict him,” Dani said as she studied the nauseating decor. “This is more pink than a stomach-upset ad would feel justified using.”

  Jake shook his head and laughed. “I don’t know any guy who’d put up with this shit.”

  When she walked into the equally pink bathroom, the chuckle died on her lips as an ice-cold chill ran up her spine. The blood splatter on the wall reminded her of the reason she was there. Drawing a deep breath, she moved toward the jet tub. She was just about to place her hands on the side, then stopped. “Do I need gloves?”

  “No, we’ve already dusted that. Go ahead.”

  She laid her hands on the cool marble tub where the woman had died, closing her eyes and opening her mind for whatever the universe saw fit to fill it with. Still pictures began furiously slamming into her brain, like an out-of-control slide show.

  Studying the images, trying to make them slow down, she saw a pair of male hands, a gun in the left one. “The wife was in the tub, painting her nails. I can see the bottle; it was called ‘Pink Champagne.’” She took her hands off the edge of the tub, waiting for the images to stop. They were moving too fast and began to blur into fuzzy walls of color. After she cleared her mind, she laid her hands on the tub and tried again. “She had her eyes closed, lounging in the tub when he came in and shot her.”

  Her head seared fiercely with the familiar pain that always accompanied her visions, but she forced herself to continue to watch the gruesome scenes. Focusing on the details and not the poor woman, she asked, “Where’s the nail polish? It’s gone after he shoots her. Why would he take it?” She opened her eyes and met Jake’s gaze.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. There weren’t any nail polish bottles on the tub or counters when we got here.” He snapped on a pair of gloves and rifled through drawers and cabinets. He found a big plastic box under the sink containing multiple jars of polish. “Is it in here?”

  Dani quickly scanned the collection of little colorful jars. She started to reach for the shade she recognized before Jake nudged her hand aside. He picked up the bottle she indicated with his gloved hand. Checking the label, he showed it to her. When she nodded in recognition, he said, “She might’ve had a second bottle, but this one is half-full. Why would he take the time to put it back?”

  Dani sighed and shook her head. “It’s important Jake, but I don’t know why, yet.”

  She was so tired it was hard to concentrate. But she closed her eyes again to regain her focus. A moving image of a pink bunny playing a bass drum appeared, but the beat wasn’t right. “Jake, what’s that movie whose theme goes ba-dump . . . ba-dump . . . ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-duuuuump?”

  He frowned as he considered it. “The Pink Panther? God, honey, please don’t tell me we’re doing movie clues again? I’ll never be able to watch another Julia Roberts flick after the last case.”

  Nothing was making any sense. She slumped onto the side of the tub in frustration.

  Jake grasped her by the upper arms and pulled her back to her feet. “You’re doing great. Then what, babe? Come on, you can do this.”

  She willed herself to see the rest and placed her palms on the tub again. “He laid his hand on her neck—to check her pulse.”

  Jake leaned down and whispered, “Did the hands have gloves?”

  “Navy blue, but only the left. The right hand was bare.”

  “I knew it.” Jake blew out a long slow breath. “The scumbag is left-handed.” He pulled her closer. “Can you see the rest?”

  “There’s no more in here.”

  He tugged her toward the master closet. “How about in here?”

  She scanned the monstrously large closet. It had endless rows of clothes, built-in shelves, mirrors, drawers, and even a dry-cleaning system on one wall. There was a pink, cushioned center island, and two other walls held a series of cubbies big enough for two hundred pairs of shoes. The last wall was cedar lined, sending off a pleasant aroma, and it held an array of evening gowns, most in shades of red or pink.

  She closed her eyes, and the bunny started banging more loudly. He turned tight circles in the closet where they stood, but she didn’t understand what it meant. “I’m not getting anything new in here, either. Still just the bunny in those battery commercials and the movie theme song.”

  Jake led her out of the master bedroom and down the hall to a smaller bedroom. They crossed to the bed that had been stripped of its mattress. Dani laid her hand on the headboard. It had so much energy it shocked her, and she jerked her hand off.

  Unable to watch the horrid scene, she turned away. “He walked in here and pointed the gun at Jared’s heart. The little boy’s name was Jared, and he was awake. He knew he was going to be shot. Then the gloved finger squeezed the trigger.” The little boy had big blue eyes and—oh God—it’d be a long while before she’d stop seeing the terror in them. “Who could do that, Jake? This guy’s a monster.” Dani’s head roared with pain, her knees grew weak, and her whole body shook with repulsion. She had to stop; she couldn’t take any more.

  Jake moved next to her, running a soothing hand up and down her spine. “You and I are gonna lock that monster up forever. What happened next?”

  Her mind went blank. Only the annoying theme song still whispered in her ears. “That’s it. That’s all there is. Sorry.”

  Jake led her out of the room. “How about I search online for all the Pink Panther movies while you have your meeting with the horny lawyer? Then we’ll go back to your place, watch the movies, and try to figure this out. I’ll pick up a bottle of Chianti, and we’ll order a pizza.”

  Totally spent, Dani ignored
his comment about Michael and sagged against him. “Okay.”

  Dammit, she’d just done it again. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t get involved in another of Jake’s cases. But how could she deny the family members of that poor little boy and his mother the one thing that might help heal their pain? To see the murderer sent to prison forever.

  Jake checked the lock on the front door after they were outside. “Do you think the movie is the newer version or one of the classics?”

  “I have no idea.” Exhausted, Dani lifted her hands in confusion. “I hate those movies.”

  “Are you kidding? They’re hilarious.” He chuckled as he led her down the long driveway, quoting his favorite one-liners from the films. Thank God he’d run out of them by the time they’d finally reached the car.

  “Hey, why don’t I get us some microwave popcorn, too? It could be a long night.” He gave her a quick eyebrow hitch as he opened the car door for her.

  Dani fastened her seat belt and crossed her arms, waiting for him to slide in beside her. When he was settled, she said, “I want extra butter, and you’re not spending the night.”

  “Man, you’ve gotten strict.” Jake started the engine, then laid his arm across the back of the seat as he backed out of the driveway. His fingers snaked up, resting on the back of her neck, and gave her a light squeeze. “Why don’t we wait and see what you say after we polish off that bottle of wine?”

  Michael glanced up from his desk, suddenly forgetting all about the phone conversation he was having with a friend he had made plans with for the evening. Dani leaned against his doorjamb, her arms crossed, studying him with her exotic eyes. They were a mixture of gold, brown, and green, and he’d never seen any quite like them.

  He tore his gaze from hers and noted the time. Three o’clock. Exactly. Would wonders never cease?

  He motioned her inside as he continued his phone conversation.

  His friend droned on about their teams’ chances at the playoffs while Dani strolled around his office, examining the art hanging on the walls he’d bought from Dani’s best friend, Zoe. Dani wore the same damaged clothes from earlier, her hair still a rat’s nest of loose, wild curls, and her bruised face displayed a litany of color.