Page 12 of Detective for the Debutante (SAFE Haven Security #3)

MURPHY

A t some point are you going to be able to communicate with Leigh without pissing her off?

I made progress earlier.

One step forward and a mile backward isn’t progress.

I know better than to follow her though. Much like the last time she stormed away from me, now is the time I need to keep my mouth shut.

Even more than I need Leigh to believe me.

Charlie Vanderweel is dangerous.

Dropping into the nearest chair in the now abandoned conference room, I huff out a breath. Very few cases still get to me after over a decade on the force.

Dad’s. For obvious reasons.

Leigh’s, because I had become friends with Cole and Hannah Grace by extension.

Uh-huh. It has nothing to do with the beautiful blue-eyed blonde who just stormed off.

But then there was Selene Gordon’s story. No matter how many cases I had seen, that one still bothered me.

The notoriety. The media coverage as one of Nashville’s prominent families came into the spotlight in a way no one expected.

Charlie Vanderweel is a violent, psychopathic killer. He is a trust fund baby on steroids. Which is why Leigh needs to stay the fuck away from him.

How someone like him could come from an upstanding citizen like his father never failed to surprise me.

Vanderweel Senior is known for his community involvement and donations to local charities and first responders.

The two couldn’t be more opposite if they tried.

But as good as Vanderweel is, he turned a blind eye to his son, and the two worked to get his conviction overturned.

And when they succeeded, they released a murderer back on the streets.

Leigh needs to stay far away from Charlie, whether she wants to believe me or not.

Pulling out my cell phone, I scroll my contacts until I find the one I’m looking for.

I put the phone to my ear and wait for the connection.

“O’Connell. Long time no talk to. What’s up?” Cole answers the phone, his slight southern drawl at odds with the speed of his LA speech.

“Cole. How’s married life, man?”

“It’s good, great even. I’m actually hoping to cut out early today and take my wife out to dinner.” The smile in his voice is evident, and my own lips twitch.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you then. And I won’t keep you too long.”

“I’m hoping you’re calling with news about Laura Leigh.”

He probably doesn’t want to hear how I managed to piss her off again.

Again? It’s not like he knows you pissed her off before. Or why.

Nerves swirl in my belly.

Yeah, because you kissed his little sister.

Fuck off. She isn’t his little sister.

Close enough.

I clear my throat. “Yeah. I ran into Leigh today. Brought her lunch since she was too busy to break away.”

“Is she doing okay? Nashville is such a change from Mistletoe Creek.”

“She’s fine.”

You spelled pissed off wrong.

“We really appreciate you checking in on her.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Because being around her is easy. It’s the fighting not to kiss her again that is harder than I want it to be.

“Hannah Grace worries about her. We all do.”

“I’m keeping my eye on her. Some of the people she runs into here… well, I’m sure you know they’re not always innocent.”

The image of Zach Nolan sitting in the courtroom as I testified in his case flashes through my mind.

Another psychopath.

Maybe I need to double-check my sisters’ pepper spray canisters again.

Although both of them are married now with husbands who could do the same, it’s my job as their big brother.

Cole huffs a humorless laugh.

“You don’t have to tell me. I still don’t quite understand why she took that job with the public defender’s office.”

“She’s a smart woman. I’m sure she has her reasons.”

She had shared so many of them with me already.

Cole snorts. “That’s exactly what she told me the last time we talked and I asked her.”

I open my mouth to tell Cole about Charlie Vanderweel—my intent behind calling him—but second-guess myself. I don’t want to worry him when I’m more than capable of keeping an eye on Leigh. I’ve honed relying on my gut to a science. And my gut is telling me Cole doesn’t need to know about this.

At least, not right now.

“I’ll make sure to keep an eye on her,” I tell him.

“It’s a big city.”

I bark out a laugh.

“I’m well aware. But the house is in a quiet neighborhood, and you said the neighbor across the street kept an eye on Hannah Grace?”

“Braeden, yeah. He and Hannah Grace still text, and he told her he’s keeping an eye on Laura Leigh as well.”

Jealousy flares like a hot spike in my chest. Cole continues before I can respond.

“But he bartends most nights. And every time we talk to Laura Leigh, she’s at home watching reruns.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Leigh had said she’d been busy every time I tried to see her.

But now I am hearing the real story.

And that somehow reinforces how much I intend to look out for her. Not Braeden, not anyone else. Me.

“I promise you, I’ll look after her. Like what I would want if I was farther away from my sisters.”

I swallow hard with the realization of how soon I’m going to have to leave watching after my sisters to their husbands. And everyone will have to look after Mom.

But for the time I have left, I will look after everyone. Leigh included.

Even if you don’t think of her as a sister?

That doesn’t matter.

What I think isn’t going to see the light of day. I’m not going to act on the chemistry still bubbling under the surface. It doesn’t change the fact that Leigh is fourteen years younger than I am.

She is still the little sister—at least by marriage—to someone I consider a friend.

Last, and by no means least, I am never planning on getting married or settling down. And Leigh has her whole life in front of her.

“Thanks, O’Connell. I appreciate it.” Cole’s phone beeps. “Shit, this is Sydney. I gotta grab it for a case she and I are working.”

“Grab it. I’ll talk to you later.”

“See ya.”

The phone beeps and I pull it from my ear and check the time.

I’d like to head home given how close it is to the end of the day, but the mountain of paperwork on my desk isn’t going anywhere unless I go back to work. And I promised Captain Overton I would clear my desk to the best of my ability before I leave at the end of August.

It’s not like I have anything or anyone waiting on me tonight.

Or most nights.

My molars grind together as I attempt to ignore the dig.

So what if most of my nights are spent wrapped up in paperwork at my office?

Or with it spread over the coffee table in my living room?

The only one who ever comes to my apartment is Mom.

My apartment is my sanctuary. Hookups are conducted elsewhere—sometimes her place, sometimes a hotel, sometimes somewhere a little more public. But never at my place.

But tonight, I have an itch to head back to the office. I want to look at the notes I have on the Vanderweel file. Seeing him again was enough to spark that interest.

Seeing him with Leigh?

Fanned that spark to a flame. One I can’t ignore.

Pocketing my phone, I step into the lobby, heading quickly for the door to head back to the office.

“Officer.”

I pause and turn toward the voice, barely containing the groan when I realize who it is.

Kenneth Scott is the reason most cops consider the public defender enemy number one. We spend days, weeks, or months on a case only to have lawyers like him do everything they can to undermine our hard work, to release criminals despite the evidence we compile.

“It’s detective,” I remind him. Even though I know he knows. We’ve met each other in the courtroom a time or two.

The Barbie boyfriend look-alike narrows his eyes at me.

“Do you have business here?” Kenneth asks.

“Is that any business of yours?” I counter.

“It is when you bully my client out the door. I had a meeting with Mr. Ellis. A legitimate one. After speaking with our receptionist when my client didn’t show up, I understand you showed him the door.”

Fuck, I’d forgotten my earlier run-in with Vinny Ellis. Between trying to chase Leigh down and then coming face-to-face with Vanderweel, he had completely escaped my mind. Not that I’ll let Kenneth Scott know that.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare at the weasel-eyed attorney in front of me.

“Did your receptionist share with you that your client approached me with vulgar language?” I ask, keeping my voice calm.

He tsks and shakes his head. “First amendment protections apply, Detective. Unless you’d rather not follow the laws you’re charged with upholding?”

And this is why I try to avoid this asshole at all costs.

“You may want to advise your client if he wants a good perception in court, he’ll want to clean up his mouth.”

“And you may want to recognize this is not your property and unless you have a legitimate business reason for being here?—”

“I was meeting with Leigh Whittaker.” The words are out before I can stop them.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Whittaker. She’s one of our more promising interns…”

The look on his face turns from angry to contemplative to lecherous in the span of a heartbeat, and suddenly I want to rip him limb from limb.

“She’s a friend of mine.” The words are innocent on the surface, but my tone is meant as a warning.

Instead he looks amused.

“So not a legitimate reason to be here. Stay away. Otherwise…”

My temper snaps at the chain I have it tethered by.

“Is that a threat?” The words are practically a growl.

“Temper, temper, Detective. Merely a reminder. One if you don’t want to follow, I’m sure I can get your captain to help remind you of as well.”

He doesn’t scare me. And even if he does call Captain Overton, she’ll say the same thing—this guy is the stereotypical lawyer. There’s no love lost between us and him.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, taking my silence for agreement. “Goodbye, Detective. I trust we won’t be seeing you outside of the courtroom.”

“You’ll definitely see me if you’re representing Vinny. You would think by now you’d be tired of representing scum, but I guess water always finds its level.”

I don’t wait for a response, but walk outside, the door drowning out his sputters as he attempts to fire back.

Asshole.

Not only do I need to protect Leigh from Vanderweel, but from douchebags like Kenneth too.

Because I’ll be damned if either of them touches her. Not on my watch.