Page 28 of Detective for the Debutante (SAFE Haven Security #3)

It’s coming out of the blue since he told me the other day he doesn’t have feelings for me. And while I might have entertained it before Murphy, it’s different now.

“I… Charlie, I’m sorry, but I’m kind of seeing someone right now,” I tell him.

Ugh. This is awkward.

“Oh. No. Sorry. Just as friends. My dad is bugging me to bring a date, and normally I take my cousin Lacey, but she’s out of town this weekend and can’t go with me. If I show up alone, my dad will go ballistic because I have to ‘keep up appearances.’”

“I…just friends?”

Does that change things?

How would you feel if Murphy were going somewhere as “just friends” with someone?

The jealousy firing through my blood gives me an answer.

Hell, no.

“Absolutely platonic. Better than platonic. My dad is announcing the donation and establishment of the Wrongful Conviction Fund and he’s invited several of the bigwigs from Project Justice to sit at our table.

I thought it would be a good chance for you to network and I get a buffer from my dad.

It’s a win-win. I’ll even cover the cost of your dress. ”

A chance to interact with senior executives with Project Justice? Who might even be part of the selection committee? I wouldn’t have to rely on Kenneth—or a recommendation from this job—for my application. How can I say no?

Surely Murphy is going to understand. In his hierarchy of hatred toward Kenneth and Charlie, I’m pretty sure he’d much rather I not have to rely on Kenneth.

“That’s okay. I’m sure I can find something,” I say, mentally going through my closet.

“So you’ll do it? You’ll come?” he asks.

“Um…maybe? I need to check with M—the person I’m seeing.” I almost say Murphy’s name, but I’m not sure how Murphy—or Charlie—would feel about me sharing, so I keep that to myself.

I just need to figure out a way to explain this to Murphy.

He’s been crystal clear about wanting me to steer clear of Charlie. But the benefit of meeting with Project Justice is too much to overlook. I have to convince him.

He’ll have to trust my judgment.

Right?

“Understandable. I can check with you later this week, if that works?”

“It does. I’ll get you an answer as soon as possible.”

“I’ll text you the details so you have them. I just need your number.”

I rattle off the number and hang up the phone.

“What part of two hours do you not understand?” Kenneth hisses.

Jumping, I swing around in my desk chair to find him leaning over the top of me, his eyes full of hatred as he stares me down.

Shit.

“I—”

“Obviously you had time to set up a date on company time, but you can’t get simple memos done?”

“I got three of them finished. I’m sorry, I?—”

“If I don’t get all the memos I requested in my inbox by the end of today, you’re going to be more sorry than you are right now.”

I glance around, looking for anyone who might be witnessing Kenneth’s threat toward me.

But there’s no one. I’m on my own.

“There’s no one to do your work for you, Ms. Whittaker. Do you understand? Everything done, 5 p.m. No excuses. Otherwise, don’t bother coming in tomorrow.”

He leaves as quickly as he showed up, and I strongly debate just leaving. I don’t need this job. I don’t need the recommendation.

Are you sure?

All Saturday is going to do is give me the chance to meet them. It doesn’t guarantee me anything.

And I don’t want to leave Lindsay in a lurch. I want to give her the chance to do something about Kenneth’s behavior. Other than him, this job has been amazing.

Shaking my head, I shelve my debate for later and dive back into research, using every spare minute to finish all the memos, as requested. Luckily, not all the cases are as in-depth as the first few were, and I send the final files before checking the time on my computer.

4:47 p.m.

“Take that, you jerk,” I mutter to myself.

My phone rings again and I consider letting it go to voicemail, wishing it had some sort of caller ID on it. With a sigh, I lift the receiver, bracing myself for whatever comes next.

“Public Defender’s Office, this is Leigh. How can I help you?”

“Leigh, it’s Jo.”

My body deflates, a headache building at the base of my skull.

“I see the memos in Kenneth’s inbox. I don’t think he expected you to get them all done today. Some of them aren’t even on his calendar for weeks.”

By five o’clock, my ass.

I swallow the smart-ass retort.

“Oh. I just figured I would get them done.”

Especially if it meant not having to work with him anymore.

“Why don’t you take off a few minutes early? It’s almost 5:00 anyway.”

“I was late?—”

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone is occasionally. I’m guessing you didn’t take a lunch either, so let’s call it even.”

“But Kenneth?—”

“Kenneth left an hour ago.”

I’m done questioning, ready to go home and forget today even happened.

“Okay, thanks, Jo. Good night.”

“Have a good night, Leigh. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hope not. As much as I like Jo, her proximity to Kenneth is enough for me to keep my distance. How does she stand working with him?

Not worth my time or energy right now. Hanging up, I pack up as quickly as I can, making my way out into our parking lot in under five minutes.

My keys are in the bottom of my purse, and I dig for them while walking to my car.

Keys in hand, I look up, gasping when I come face-to-face with the grizzled appearance of the man I saw in the lobby a couple of weeks ago.

“H-hi.”

“Kenny around?” he asks, the stale smell of sour alcohol burning my nostrils.

I try to hold my breath, my heart racing in my chest as I take a few steps back.

“Kenneth?” I ask.

“S’what I said,” he slurs.

“Um, he already left for the day, Mr…?” I trail off, hoping he’ll provide his name.

“You’re pretty.” His glazed eyes focus on me for a terrifying heartbeat, and he reaches out a dirty hand.

I shrink back, wishing I was closer to the door to get back inside. But my badge is in the bottom of my purse—right next to where my keys were—and I don’t want to turn my back on the man in front of me.

No one else is around, the entrance into the building far enough from the busy street it’s not like anybody is just going to happen by.

“Can I take a message for Kenneth?” Dammit, I wish I had pockets in this skirt I could stash my pepper spray in. Or that I had connected the key ring it’s on to my keys sitting useless in my hand.

His gaze sharpens as he studies me and he takes a step forward. I take another step back, but it’s not like I have anywhere to retreat.

“You were with that fucking pig the last time I was here.” He reaches over and I shrink back so his fingers grasp only the fabric of my sleeve versus my arm.

“I’ll tell Kenneth you stopped by,” I tell him, trying to step back again, but his grip on the fabric is enough purchase that he can grab my arm.

I try to twist out of his grip, but it tightens, frissons of pain sparking through my body.

“Let go,” I tell him, trying to remember the self-defense the sorority sisters had gone through right before I graduated.

But my heart pounding and the building headache make concentrating difficult.

“I’m not done talking to you, bitch. I have a message for the pig I saw you with.”

The door behind me opens, the clang of the metal door against the brick facade a welcome reprieve.

Relief floods my body, and I spin as much as his grip will allow me, taking my eyes off him, to face the two employees who both seem surprised to see me. Or maybe it’s the man with me who surprises them.

Something hard strikes the back of my head, stars whirling in my dimming vision. I fall to my knees, finally free of the grip as I struggle to form words.

“Leigh?” Jo’s voice sounds like it’s coming from a distance but she’s right next to me, gently shaking me. “Leigh? Are you okay?”

Words still aren’t possible, Jo’s image fading quickly.

“Leigh!”

It’s the last thing I hear before I fall forward.

Funny, I expected pavement to be hard.

It’s the last thought I have as darkness falls.