Page 22 of One Dark Kiss (Grimm Bargains #2)

TWENTY-ONE

Rosalie

B ack in my office after a quick lunch, I m still chafing at Alexei being so bossy about me not leaving today until he picks me up. Yes, somebody vandalized my car, but it was because of him, not me, clearly. But he made me promise, and I don t really want to break a promise to anybody.

It s not that I m afraid of him or afraid of what he ll do, or at least I comfort myself with that thought. I hit speed dial on my phone.

Yo, Ella says. What s up?

Hey, I need a favor. I have a damaged security disc, and I was hoping you could do your magic.

Papers rustle over the line. Security disc? From the last decade?

Well, seven years ago, I say.

Tell me more, she says. Is this about Alexei? Do you want me to get him convicted? I can do anything with a disc.

I m thankful she s on my side in life. No. I actually want you to fix it, like run one of your fancy programs or something. The recording is of the interior of the Fairfax house, and it might show the murder. But it s corrupted.

Her laugh is low and entertaining. I smile. There s something about her laugh that has always been contagious.

I don t know what I ll have to do, but I m happy to look at your corrupted disc and see if there s a program I can create or use, to get what s on it. Though, I need to ask you, what if I find a video of Alexei killing David Fairfax?

You won t, I say. There s really no question he was set up, and if we can get the person who actually killed Fairfax on record, I can get this thing dismissed.

You sure you want it dismissed?

I roll my eyes. Yes, I m absolutely positive.

Her silence has weight until she speaks. I m worried about you. You seem different.

I m always like this with a case, I protest.

She keeps quiet again.

Fine, I say. Yes, there s something going on, but until I understand it, I can t explain it.

She loudly blows out air. Oh, sorry, she says.

No, it s okay. Air doesn t bug me. If you start chewing chips though, we re going to have a problem.

I would never do that, she exclaims.

I believe her. She truly would never do that.

She clears her throat. I lost Alana. I can t lose you to another mob boss.

Her fear of abandonment has always been right there, and my heart aches for her.

The death of her father wounded her deeply, and then her stepmother pretty much cast her out to the boarding school where we met.

My grandfather had worked as the janitor so I could attend the classes.

First of all, neither one of us has lost Alana, I say. We all had to grow up someday and maybe get married.

You re not marrying Alexei Sokolov, are you?

The thought sends a very stupid thrill through me, and I quench it. Of course not, I say. Come on, Ella. Even if I do get married someday, you re not going to lose me. You re not alone.

I know, she says. It d just be nice if my friends were here when my stepmother comes to kill me.

My head snaps up. We joke about that sometimes, but there s a ring of truth in her tone now. She seems more somber lately, and I m wondering what she s planning. I know her. She s a planner. You really think she will want you dead?

I don t think I ll give her a choice, Ella says softly. I m going after the company, and soon, and she ll have to fight back.

I ll be at your side. I promise. No way will I let Ella face that evil bitch on her own.

I know.

I twirl a pencil through my fingers. Why haven t you made a move yet?

Their firewalls are too good, she grumbles. I m close, but it ll take me a while to hack, and I can t really do anything until I control the servers of TimeGem.

I might have to prepare a defense for corporate hacking, just in case. I ll have a paralegal start researching that immediately. If I can do anything to help you, you know I will.

I have a program running 24/7. I m getting close, she says. Very.

A pit drops into my stomach. She s not kidding about her stepmother. She s evil and greedy.

But I only have the mental bandwidth to work on one trial at a time, and I need to get Alexei set free for good. I ll get the disc to you tomorrow. I have a full day. What do you say about popping by around dinnertime? I should be able to scrounge up enough money for pizza.

If dinner is on you, I m there, she says. We can ask Alana to meet us.

That s fine. Give her a call. Oh, and I need my gold earrings back. They would ve gone perfectly with my outfit today.

She borrowed them months ago. Sorry, I forgot to give those back to you, she says. I wore them on a date the other night.

How did it go?

Horrible. He spent the whole time telling me how close he is with his mother.

I wince. That s not good.

No, but that s okay, Ella says. Honestly, men are boring.

I had actually thought the same thing until very, very recently. Hmm. I say noncommittally.

I ll get to the bottom of that hmm tomorrow. Talk to you later. She ends the call.

A shadow crosses my office door, and Joseph Cage walks inside to set down three heaping boxes full of file folders and trial notebooks on one of my guest chairs. I brought you the Miles casefiles for the last ten years.

Thanks. I need more time in a day.

Cage leans against my desk, a little closer than usual. Do you think the eldest Sokolov was set up?

I think it s possible his brother or stepmother bribed the judge and the prosecuting attorney. I look over at the box of files. Those were all Miles s?

Cage s gaze remains warm on me. A little too warm. Yeah—just from the last ten years. You said you wanted to look into his cases. You don t believe he was dirty, too?

I really don t know, but we should find out, I say. Just in case.

If you want a project, you just found one. Cage reaches out and brushes a lock of my hair off of my face. How about dinner tonight?

I blink, startled. Um, I thought we decided us dating was a bad idea. We only went out a few times and had a few kisses that basically didn t do a thing for me.

I think we should try again. I can t stop thinking about you.

Why? I shake my head.

His gaze drops to my chest. I don t know. Lately, there s just something about you, something electric.

That something about me is named Alexei Sokolov but I can t say that.

Sleeping with a client will get me disbarred.

Cage is a good-looking man, but apparently, I like sizzle.

Dangerous, deadly, over-the-top sizzle. But it s not just that.

Alexei has unlocked something in me. A wildness that contrasts with my need to be in control.

Letting go as someone else takes control is addicting.

Nobody else has ever figured me out like that.

It s not a good idea, Cage. I like my career as it is.

My phone buzzes and I pick it up. Hi, Eloise. What s up?

Blythe Fairfax is here to see you, she says.

I have been calling Mrs. Fairfax for days to set up an appointment. Apparently, she likes to set the tone. All right, send her back. No problem.

Cage pushes away from my desk and looks down, today dressed in a nice black suit. How about you think about it? I would love another shot with you.

I believe I ve already said no twice, Cage, I murmur.

Besides being a risk to my career, the guy is at least twenty years older than me.

It s just not a good idea. There s a knock on my door.

Come in, I say, surprised when Blythe Fairfax walks in with Jaqueline Lion on her heels. Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Cage looks at the women. Are we having a meeting?

No. Jaqueline looks from me to Cage, her black hair up in a bun and her suit a red Chanel. In her mid-fifties, she has a spectacular body. Why are you in here with the door closed?

I have a case with Rosalie, he says smoothly.

Jaqueline s eyes narrow, and she looks at me. I see. We re here for a meeting.

I sit back and look at the women. Do we have a conflict of interest?

No, Jaqueline says, taking a step to the side. Cage, if you ll excuse us.

Very well. He walks by them, condescending irritation in his wake.

Jaqueline shuts the door. The firm does represent Blythe, but she s a witness in the case we ve given you, so I wanted to be here while you interview her.

This is weird and probably inappropriate. If there s an issue with Mrs. Fairfax s testimony, she should seek outside counsel, since we re representing Alexei, I say calmly.

Blythe is a beautiful woman, and I can see what Alexei saw in her. Today she s wearing a light-gray suit with spectacular gold jewelry, and her hair curls around her lovely face. She lifts one eyebrow. It s Alexei, is it, instead of Mr. Sokolov?

Considering I carry his bite marks on several places of my body, yes. Mrs. Fairfax, would you like to sit down? I gesture to the chairs on the other side of my desk. She smiles, even as her eyes narrow and she takes a seat. Jaqueline sits next to her.

Like I was saying, —I can t believe I have to explain this to my senior partner— if there s any issue with Mrs. Fairfax s testimony that could get her into trouble, or if there s a possibility she committed a crime, we need to obtain outside counsel for her.

I don t want outside counsel, Blythe snaps. Jaqueline s been my attorney for years.

Well then, I say. I ll have to advise Mr. Sokolov to obtain outside counsel.

Blythe s gaze rakes me from the top of my head to my chest and then back up. Somehow, I don t think he ll agree. He s hell in bed, isn t he?

I keep my expression stoic. I wouldn t know.

She laughs, the sound, tinkly. Oh, honey, believe me, you know.

Jaqueline crosses her arms. Rosalie, you ve slept with a client?

I face her directly. Of course not. Apparently, I have no trouble lying to my boss. I m not under oath, and if she finds out it s true, she ll fire me anyway.

I ve known Alexei Sokolov for less than a week, and I m already lying to people and changing my morals. I need to get him out of my life, and the sooner the better. I think it would probably be best if we recommend that Mr. Sokolov retain outside counsel.

Blythe chuckles. I have a feeling he ll decline that invitation. You re quite beautiful and probably the perfect woman to have on his arm to look respectable.

Finding him alternate representation isn t his choice, I murmur.

Ha. You have to know him better than that already. She crosses her legs, hitching her gray skirt up higher on her toned thigh.

Jaqueline sighs. If they agree, we can continue representing them both. It was a blow to the firm when we lost his case.

I look from one to the other. Did we represent Mrs. Fairfax at that time?

No, Jaqueline says. We ve actually only represented Mrs. Fairfax for three years.

Relief fills me. That would definitely have been a breach of ethics if the firm had represented the widow, most likely the estate, and the accused. I m tired of these games. I look at Blythe. How long did you and Mr. Sokolov see each other?

About three months. Like I said, he was hell in bed. Told me he was in love with me, that I was the only woman for him. She smiles. Has he told you that yet?

I ignore her. Who do you think killed your husband?

Her eyes widen. I think Alexei killed my husband. All of the evidence pointed to him.

I understand that, I say. But we have fairly good evidence that the judge and the prosecuting attorney were bribed, and the security disc from your home of the day in question is corrupt. Can you explain that?

Yes, she says smoothly. Alexei had access to the security system. He messed with it often, so my husband wouldn t know he was there with me.

Warning ticks down my spine. How many people had access to your system at that time?

She shrugs. Just people who worked there. Of course, the police confiscated the disc after the murder. They were the ones who told me that all the data was corrupted.

I still need to obtain a list of all the police officers who worked on the case. How much did you inherit when your husband died?

Rosalie, Jaqueline snaps.

Blythe lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. I don t know, just south of two hundred million.

That s quite the motive, I murmur.

She looks around my office and at the pretty mirror to the side before smirking. Yes, except I wasn t in the house when he was killed.

We don t know that, do we? I ask.

She rolls her eyes. Phone records show I called Alexei when I left the Pilates class.

Sure, but she could ve killed her husband and then gone to Pilates. The murder weapon was a steak knife from a set?

It was a steak knife—we had many different kinds, most not a full set by that time. My husband liked very sharp knives, and he d just throw one away if he couldn t get it just right. I swear, I bought more knives for that man.

I d reviewed the crime scene photos, and somebody strong had killed David. Someone angry. Was she strong enough to have plunged that knife in so far? If Alexei didn t kill your husband and neither did you, who would you suspect? I find hypotheticals often work best with clients.

She smooths her hands on her skirt, showing several beautiful amethyst rings. My gaze catches on them. She smiles. These are gifts from Alexei. He loves amethysts, as you know. She looks at my unadorned hands. He hasn t given you a gift yet?

I m about to punch this woman in the face. You have no idea who else might ve killed your husband?

Oh, I don t know. She waves her hand in the air.

David was a stockbroker. He had happy clients, unhappy clients, but no one who would kill him in such a savage manner.

Being stabbed to death like that required both anger and precision.

She smiles again. Two words I think we both can associate with Alexei Sokolov. Don t you agree?