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  “All settled?” Casey asked when he slipped into the passenger seat.

  “More or less. I didn’t have the chance to lock my car before I was hauled away. Open invitation. Insurance will have a field day over this.”

  “Tell me about it. Maybe a good attorney can help.”

  “Ha-ha. Let’s get to Valerie’s.”

  “Not there.” She held up her phone. “She couldn’t reach you so she called me. Mrs. Estavarez is home. She’s gone over there to console her.”

  He dug his phone from his pocket. Dead. And his charger was in his car. Of course. “You tell Valerie about…anything?”

  “Only that we were done and headed her way. I’ll leave the rest to you. Might be a good time for us to corner Bev.”

  “Excellent.” He was in the perfect mood to extract information from her. They would get to the bottom of this today.

  * * * * *

  The grief was more than any family should have to bear. But for a family as close-knit as the Estavarezes, it was…

  Valerie didn’t have a word to describe it. She’d overstepped her bounds and role as public defender by being here. There wasn’t anything she could do to help the family, except console, offer a few suggestions, give comforting arms and a shoulder to cry on and listen. It tore her heart in two and made her want to call her family. Made her want to cling to Russell and never let go. All the issues the two of them had dealt with of late were petty compared to this. She couldn’t imagine living in a world where he didn’t exist. She didn’t want to imagine it.

  So she listened, hugged, drank tea, helped sort through the casseroles pouring through the door. She stood guard over Mrs. Estavarez when Detective Somers came by for information, of which she had none. Estavarez was there when she went to bed and gone when she woke up. She’d searched around the house inside and out, didn’t find him and didn’t look any farther. “I’m an old woman, Detective.”

  Casey’s desert home sat on ten acres of land on the edge of an oasis. Valerie wouldn’t have had a lot of stamina, but she would have combed every inch if someone she loved needed help. Mrs. Estavarez played the “old woman” card when it was to her benefit. Valerie had seen her take down those under her big and small. A look, the tone in her voice, a pinch, or a cuff to the ear. All obeyed her. She ruled that family with an iron fist. She wasn’t too old to chase off after her son. Valerie had once seen her take a switch to her oldest—a burly man of twenty-seven—when she caught him smoking a joint out back. The guy just stood there and took it.

  A chill rippled down Valerie’s back. What would the woman do if her son was a rapist? She dismissed the notion. He never would have made it to trial. Unless she hoped jail would teach him a good lesson. And here Valerie had gotten him off. That couldn’t have set well.

  Doubt, god how she hated it. All the self-confidence she’d displayed during the trial was gone. Murder had a tendency to make a person second-guess herself. A woman like Mrs. Estavarez might not have the financial resources to pull off all this, but she certainly had the manpower. Family and friends swarmed around her to offer their sympathies. Valerie studied the throng while Somers finished up. She wasn’t going to be far behind him. When he stood, she moved in to say goodbye. Mrs. Estavarez kissed her hand, pressed her wet cheek to it and blessed her over and over. Now Valerie felt guilty on top of the doubt. She pushed through to the door, wondering how she could suspect such a sweet soul. Until one face in the crowd brought all her sympathies screeching to a halt. Estelita, Bev’s housekeeper.

  The woman’s eyes went wide at the sight of Valerie mere feet away. It was probably a good reflection of how Valerie looked. Confronting her was out of the question. Her presence could mean nothing…or everything. She squeezed through to the door, hoping to catch Somers. All she saw was his taillights as he braked to turn the corner. What could she tell him? Bev hadn’t reported the assault. Considering Mrs. Estavarez’s wide connections, Estelita’s appearance was nothing more than a coincidence.

  She’d wait until Russell and Casey came back. Surely Bev would have provided them with some information. They could sort it out then. She’d bide her time putting a nice dinner together. Though how she’d be able to eat a bite was questionable. Still, it would be busy work, something to keep her mind occupied while she waited. Nothing wrong with leftovers.

  A glance in her rearview mirror revealed her guardian still tailed her. He was more in the open about it now that Casey had told her to expect his presence. They could have saved gas and driven together. It would have made her feel safer. Until Russell and Casey returned, she wanted him by her side rather than lurking in the shadows.

  He parked across the street when she pulled into her driveway and monitored her approach from behind dark sunglasses. “Problem, ma’am?”

  “It’s too hot out here. Come inside.”

  His sigh signaled relief but his smile said it better. “Thanks, ma’am. I appreciate it. Name’s Dan.”

  “Then come on, Dan. I have a glass of iced tea with your name all over it.”

  He locked up and followed her inside. Once the cool air hit him, he plucked at his sweat-soaked black t-shirt.

  “Bathroom’s that way,” she pointed in that direction. He wasted no time heading for it.

  Valerie barely reached the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

  “Look out the window first,” Dan called out.

  “Always do.” She grabbed a large paring knife from the block on the counter and returned to the living room. Peeling the drape to one side, she peeked out. No one stood at the door, but Russell’s car sat in the driveway. Now that put a smile on her face.

  “It’s Russell’s car,” she shouted to Dan and unlocked the door.

  “Don’t open it!” Dan shouted. “His car was stolen!”

  The warning came too late. Someone pushed the door open the second the lock clicked. Valerie shoved her weight into it, but the person on the other side out-bulked her. She stumbled back at a hard shove. Leather snapped around her neck yanked her forward. Eyes wide, she stared up at the intruder and the gun pointed over her shoulder toward Dan.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Shutting your eyes won’t make us go away, Bev.” Russell sat on the edge of her hospital bed. Casey sat on the other side. “Two people are dead. A police officer was shot and is in critical condition. The gun used to shoot him was found in my house, along with the whip used to kill Ricardo Estavarez and a cane I presume was used on you.”

  Casey scooped Bev’s limp hand into hers. Bev gripped hard. “I’m scared.”

  “No shit.” Russell dropped his hand over her other one. “We all are.”

  “He’s powerful.” Her words were barely audible.

  “He’s a killer,” Russell said. “Is he the rapist as well?”

  She opened her blue eyes to tears that trickled down her cheeks. “I don’t know. It would make sense in some sick way. He wanted Estavarez behind bars and was furious when that didn’t happen. When he was beating me, he kept saying, ‘I will have justice.’”

  Meaning he was furious when that didn’t happen to his liking. “Why you? Is he part of—”

  “Our community?” She swallowed hard. “Oh yes. Until all this I didn’t realize how horrid he was. He hid it so well. He wanted Teri. Teri wanted a high-profile ‘sugar daddy’.” Bev shook her head. “Trust me. No sugar ever fell from that man. Still, I never suspected he would hurt her. There’d never been any indication from any of the other girls. He wanted her. She wanted him. Hell, she would have crawled through broken glass naked if he asked her to do it. So I asked you to work with her, get her used to what to expect. As far as I knew, they worked well together. Then this happened.” More tears. “He came back to me, demanding another girl. I refused. He beat me. Threatened me. Then said he’d find another way. That it was time to take matters into his own hands. That he should have done so from the start.”

  “A name would be nice, Beverly,” Casey told her.<
br />
  Bev released the longest sigh Russell had ever heard. “Alden Baker.”

  That jerked them back. “Superior Court Judge?” he asked.

  “That’s the one.” Bev gave a nod, firmer now, more sure of the information she’d shared. Her fight was coming back.

  Baker was damn pissed at the verdict. His experience in law enforcement and apparently their lifestyle gave him the skills necessary to do something like this. Why? God only knew. The chances of anyone believing it were slim.

  “We need you to make a police report,” Casey said.

  “I’m ready,” Bev replied. Fire banked her gaze. “I’m finally ready to fight back. He’s powerful, but no more so than some of the others under my umbrella.”

  “Then I’d say it was time to call in some of those favors.” Russell patted her hand. “Want us to wait with you until the police arrive?”

  “No.” She jerked her chin toward the cabinet by her bed. “Hand me my phone. I have some calls to make. The man is going down, one way or the other.”

  “You call Valerie and let her know we’re on the way back.” Casey handed him her cell. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  He left them alone, dialing as he walked away. The call went to voice mail. He glanced up in time to see the women hug, then tried again only to get voice mail once more. It wasn’t a good sign.

  “Call your man.” He thrust the phone toward Casey. “Valerie’s not answering.”

  Frowning, she dialed while they hurried toward the elevators. “No answer.” She punched in 9-1-1. “Intruder in the house.” She spit out Casey’s address. “Shots fired.” A lie to get police there faster. He prayed it wasn’t really true.

  Russell heard the operator’s muffled response, watched determination gleam in Casey’s eyes. If she’d asked him to go to hell and back on a fool’s mission right now, he’d go. They stepped into the elevator as she ended the call.

  “You have two choices, Russell. You can drive or you can use this.” She opened her tote wide enough for him to see the handgun nestled inside.

  He grinned. “Or I can do both.”

  “There’s only so much control a woman can relinquish at one time.” In seconds her keys were in his hands. “Drive fast.”

  He closed his fingers around the keys. “Don’t worry. I will.”

  * * * * *

  The shot rang in her ears. Baker’s focus on Dan was Valerie’s salvation and Dan’s doom. She managed to slip her fingers between her neck and the whip to give herself some breathing room. Dan lay slumped and bleeding against the wall from the bullet that pierced his chest. There was too much blood to know where he’d been shot and she was too far away to know if he was still breathing.

  Baker yanked her to him, cutting off the circulation in her fingers and shoved the weapon under her chin. “Play nice or you’re next.”

  Who was he fooling? This man had no intention of letting her live. She had to buy herself some time, no matter what the cost. The thought of what she might have to endure as a result made her sick inside.

  I have Russell. It’ll be all right. He’s all I need. We can do this. We can get through anything.

  “Anything,” she choked out.

  Baker snorted. “Thought you’d say that. You little whores are all the same. What did you promise Cambridge to throw the case? Blowjobs? Nooners? Ass fucks? Man’s a damn fool. I needed that conviction!”

  He shook her so hard her head snapped. Stars sprang before her eyes. Valerie felt her legs give out. Baker shoved her away from him. She hit the side table, knocking its contents to the floor as she fell. Her hand landed on top of the heavy-duty paring knife. She wrapped her fingers around it, stared at the target looming above her and lunged.

  Baker’s scream cut through the room. He dropped the whip and clutched his testicles with his gloved hands. He toppled to the floor too close for comfort, drawing his knees to his chest. Blood streamed from his trousers as he writhed before her. Valerie grasped the whip in her free hand and scurried away, taking a stance between him and Dan, daring Baker to try another attack, begging him to give her a reason to attack.

  I’ll take you down, motherfucker.

  She’d forgotten about the gun, now lying within reach if he ever released his balls. Her confidence faltered.

  As if he’d read her mind, Baker’s gaze cleared enough to see the gun. Still gripping his privates with one hand, he reached with the other. Valerie snapped the whip over his outstretched fingers. The crack sliced the nitrile glove neatly. Baker quailed in pain and tucked himself into the fetal position. She dashed forward, kicked the gun across the room and put distance between them once more. Eyes locked on Baker, she squatted beside Dan to feel for a pulse. It was faint but there. It wouldn’t be if they had to wait much longer.

  From him she edged toward the house phone. Dead. The son of a bitch had cut the line. Her cell was buried in her purse on the kitchen counter. Valerie hated taking her eyes off Baker. If he scrambled to his feet, she might not be able to take him down. She returned to Dan to search his jeans. His angle made it impossible to shove her fingers into the front pockets, though she could clearly see what looked like the outline of a cell phone in the right pocket. It seemed she had little choice.

  “Sorry, Dan. I owe you a new pair.” If he lived. Valerie slipped the knife into the pocket and ripped the jeans. His cell slid to the floor. Valerie reached across him to retrieve it.

  A knock at the door froze her. Not for the sound but for the tension in Baker’s body. He was on his feet before she could think twice about it, reaching for the door. Valerie jumped to her feet, lashing the whip in his direction. He whirled around, caught the tip and yanked. The handle flew from her grip. She toppled but managed to hold her ground.

  Another knock pulled his head around, he opened the door, hiding behind it. Estelita stared in from the other side of the screen door. “Hello?”

  Friend or foe?

  “Call for help!” Valerie shouted. “I have an intruder. Someone’s been shot.”

  Estelita’s wide eyes grew wider, but instead of doing as Valerie asked, she opened the screen door and stepped inside. “Carlos, no. Enough is enough.” She eased around the interior door, then jumped back with a squeal. “You are not Carlos.”

  “No, lady. I’m not.” Baker snapped the whip around her throat.

  Valerie took advantage of the distraction to grab Dan’s phone.

  “Put it down,” he snarled. “Or she dies.”

  What choice did she have? Valerie palmed the knife as she stood. Estelita clawed for breath. Now what?

  “Let her go.” A futile request. The more bodies Baker could stack up and blame on Russell the better. “Your blood’s already on this scene. There’s no way you’ll ever be able to cover this one up.”

  “You attacked me.” He fought for every breath. With luck he’d pass out from blood loss. He shook Estelita. “Who’s Carlos? Is someone else coming?”

  The woman shook her head. “My cousin. Ricardo’s brother. I saw him leave. I thought he follow the lady.”

  Baker’s glassy eyes narrowed. “Another lover, Miss Oswald?”

  “No,” Estelita gasped. “He…he…” She sagged into a faint, taking Baker off guard and the whip with her.

  Valerie slung the knife in his direction. It sank in his shoulder. He howled with rage and pain, giving her time to snag Dan’s phone and race for the safety of her bedroom. She dialed as she ran.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “I live at—”

  Baker tackled her to the floor. The fall took the breath out of her and sent the phone skittering out of reach.

  “Fucking bitch,” he snarled. “I’m going to cut you to shreds.”

  “Like hell you will!” Russell shouted.

  Valerie heard the telltale swish of a whip in motion. Baker screamed and rolled away when it cut across his back, giving Valerie the freedom she needed. She crawled out of the line of fire, tucked
her knees into her chest and watched Russell whip the man into submission.

  She counted ten strikes before the wail of sirens drowned out Baker’s cries. Russell landed five more lashes before officers ran into the house, weapons drawn. He threw the weapon aside, vaulted Baker’s body and had her in his arms in one giant step. Valerie tossed her arms around his neck.

  “He broke into my home. Shot my bodyguard. Wrapped a whip around my neck.” She pointed toward her throat.

  “And is responsible for an attack on Beverly Renard, the murder of Teri Trent and most likely Ricardo Estavarez.” Russell swooped her up and carried her outside where Estelita wept in Casey’s arms and paramedics raced forward with a gurney.

  “Never let me go,” she told him.

  “No problem there.”

  * * * * *

  Russell and Valerie were safely ensconced in Casey’s guesthouse by the pool. The woman definitely had deep pockets. Private practice, at least hers, paid well. She’d used that wealth to help people. Valerie was grateful to call her friend. She hovered about at the hospital, checking on Valerie’s welfare and Dan’s. Once they learned Dan would be all right, Casey swooped Valerie and Russell under her wing and brought them to her home.

  Valerie had taken full advantage of the amenities there—a long soak in a tub built for two, a lovely glass of voignier, a plush robe despite the suitcase of clothing Casey had managed to extract from her house.

  She glanced up when Russell walked in. “Phil and Dave gone?”

  They’d been waiting at the house when Valerie and Russell arrived with Casey. At the time, Valerie didn’t want the details of the case, didn’t care why Baker did what he did only that he’d done it. She wanted alone time and left Russell to deal with it. Now curiosity ate at her to know it all.

  Russell sat on the end of the sofa, pulled her feet to his lap and started to massage them. The man sure knew the way to a woman’s heart. “Carlos Estavarez was arrested a couple of hours ago. His mother’s in all her states.”