“I know.”
“What are we going to do?” My voice was too shrill, but I couldn’t help it.
“One thing at a time,” he said, shoving the drawer shut and yanking open the top drawer. He paused.
“What is it?” I asked, peering over the desk, but I couldn’t see what he was looking at.
Kade pulled out a photograph. Curious, I rounded the desk, then sucked in a breath.
It was one of the photos Keaston had given Blane. Kade and I were at Bar Sinister in Denver, me in my leather prostitute ensemble, standing between his knees as he sat on the barstool. His hands were nearly hidden, they were so far up the back of my skirt.
The obvious heat between us in that photograph made my cheeks burn.
“Where did Blane get this?” Kade asked, and the ice in his voice made me look at him in surprise.
“Keaston,” I said. “That’s what he gave Blane to prove to him that you and me…” I couldn’t finish that sentence.
“Didn’t you wonder how Keaston could possibly have had photos of us in that bar? No one knew we were going there.”
I stared at him, wide-eyed. It had never occurred to me, the circumstances of my and Blane’s breakup overshadowing everything else.
“The only person who knew was Garrett,” Kade continued, “and he never said who he was working for before he died.”
“You don’t think—”
“What other possible explanation could there be?”
“But… he’s your uncle, too,” I spluttered. “Why would he try to kill you?”
“Because he knows I can tie him to Sheffield,” Kade said.
Ron Sheffield. The former CIA agent who’d masqueraded as a Navy JAG officer. He’d threatened and killed witnesses, nearly killed me, all to coerce Blane into losing a trial. “But… you’re family!” I couldn’t comprehend it. Keaston would knowingly send Garrett to kill his own flesh and blood?
“Not to him,” Kade said flatly. “He tolerates me because of Blane. That’s all.”
Kade pulled out a booklet and started flipping through it. “Ah,” he said, “here’s his numbers. Should’ve known. Only Blane would be so cliché as to keep a literal little black book. Here it is.”
Kade pulled out his cell and dialed. After a moment, he said, “Jared—it’s Kade. They’ve arrested Blane. I have evidence I need tested for that DNA match.”
I listened as they arranged when and where they were going to meet. When he hung up, he said, “Get me the DNA you got off James.”
I ran upstairs to Blane’s bedroom, catching sight of the baggie with my bra stuffed inside. I grabbed it, then hurried back to the den and handed it to Kade. He looked at it, then seemed to realize what it was.
“Why is James’s DNA on your bra?” he asked.
“It was all I had at the time,” I answered with a shrug, watching as he pulled the piece of red lingerie out of the bag. He examined the fabric, paying particular attention to where James had cut the elastic.
“He cut it off you.”
It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer. I knew that tone of voice, and I could only be grateful that Kade hadn’t been the one to walk in on James and me last night. If he had, James would be dead.
Kade looked at me and our eyes caught. Suddenly, all that had been said upstairs between him, me, and Blane came rushing back.
“Kade,” I began, not even sure what I was going to say, just that I wanted to fix things… somehow. “About earlier—”
He cut me off mid-sentence. “Now’s not the time.” He stuffed the bra back in the baggie.
I persisted. “Just listen to me—”
“I’ve gotta go,” he said, interrupting again. He brushed by me, but I grabbed a handful of his shirt and hung on. He stopped, but the blue of his eyes was cold when he looked down at me, all emotion wiped from his expression.
I hated it when he did that, when I couldn’t read anything from him—when he looked at me the way he had months ago, like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. I instinctively knew it was a defense mechanism, Kade’s way of dealing with his emotions, but I still hated it.
“I want you to know that I never would have done what I did in Vegas if I didn’t care about you,” I said. It had to be said, it was the truth, and Kade deserved that.
“But now that you and Blane are back together, you regret it,” he replied, matter-of-fact.
“Blane and I aren’t back together,” I said. “But regardless, I… I just shouldn’t have done that. You were drunk and I… Well, I have no excuse.” Unless finally giving in to the overwhelming temptation of Kade counted as an excuse.
His steady, penetrating gaze made me nervous and I glanced down, realizing I still had hold of his shirt. I let it go, smoothing the wrinkles I’d made in the fabric.
“We’ll discuss this later,” he said. “I have to go make sure no one kills my brother.”
Anxiety knotted in my stomach. “How can you do that?”
Kade smiled. “I’ve got friends in low places, princess. Don’t worry. I’ll be back.” And he was gone.
I stood staring at the empty room, feeling like I’d just been hit by a truck. In the span of thirty minutes, Blane had been arrested and was possibly in danger, depending on the whim of the police. Kade had figured out that Senator Keaston had been behind the attempts on his life, and consequently mine, while we were in Denver, and he had also been involved with the intimidation and coercion of Blane during the Waters trial.
Then I realized that Mona and Gerard didn’t know. They didn’t come over on Sundays so had no clue what had happened.
I ran upstairs and slipped on a pair of flip-flops before hurrying outside to their home, which adjoined Blane’s property. It was already over ninety degrees out, even at mid-morning, and as I walked I pulled my hair up to get it off my neck, wishing I’d thought to grab an elastic band to hold it in a ponytail.
Mona and Gerard’s house was a homey white ranch with a deep porch. Two identical Adirondack chairs sat in the shade of the porch and a white hammock hung between two large maples in the yard. Petunias bloomed in a huge flowerpot at the foot of the stairs leading up to the porch. It looked like the home I’d always imagined I’d have when I got married. Someday. Maybe.
I knocked on the front door and after a moment, Gerard answered.
“Kathleen,” he said with a genial smile. “This is a nice surprise. Come in!”
“Hi, Gerard,” I said. “Is Mona around? I need to talk to both of you.”
His smile faded to a look of concern as he took in the tone of my voice. “Of course. Let me go get her.”
The foyer had a hardwood floor and a table held framed photos of Blane and Kade when they were young. I picked one up. It was a candid shot and must have been taken when Blane had returned from a deployment, as he was wearing fatigues. He stood next to Kade, showing him something the camera couldn’t see. The sun was setting behind them, casting a golden glow. Kade wasn’t looking at what Blane was showing him, instead gazing up at him with something close to awe on his face. I tried to guess his age from the picture. Maybe seventeen? Eighteen?
I put the photo back, glancing at the others. There was a posed photo of Blane in his dress uniform that took my breath away. School photos of Kade, culminating in his senior picture. The smirk I’d come to love curved his lips, a knowing glimmer in his blue eyes as he posed, as though he already knew the effect his looks had.
I was still perusing the many photos of Blane and Kade on one wall when Mona appeared, Gerard following her.
“Kathleen,” she said, frowning with worry, “what’s going on? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said before taking a deep breath. “I came to tell you that the police… arrested Blane this morning.” The words were harder to get out than I’d anticipated, nearly choking me.