I'll Be Watching You Part 29

That suggestion hung heavily in the air.

"Sorry," Jack muttered. "I guess that's a sore spot."

"More like a moot point," Taylor replied, a definite edge to her tone. "I doubt Reed will be free."

There was another brief, uncomfortable silence.

"Maybe you should check," Laura proposed tentatively. "Or at least just call him back. He seemed pretty frantic."

"I'm sure he is. He probably wants to explain why he'll go to the wall for Jonathan Mallory." Taylor gave a brusque shrug. "I'll call Reed now and find out. No need to press your ears to the door. I'll come out and tell you what's going on the minute I hang up." She took a step toward her inner studio, then turned to face them. "Thanks again. You're the best."

She went inside.

For a moment, she stared at the phone. Maybe Kevin was right. Maybe circ.u.mstances had changed since she'd spoken to Reed this morning.

But she doubted it.

She picked up the receiver and punched in Reed's cell.

Obviously, he saw her number come up on caller ID, because he answered right away. "Finally," he greeted her. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd planned on returning my calls."

"I said I'd listen. I will."

"Good." Reed's tone was intense. "A lot's happened. A lot we need to talk about. So I made some arrangements. Mitch will head over to your place tonight. He's got the key you gave him. He'll let himself in, put on the right lights, and make it look like someone's there."

"Until when?"

"Until tomorrow. He'll spend the night."

"Really. And where will I be?"

"At my place. With me. Jake's picking you up outside the radio station. He'll drive you over to my apartment." A heavy pause. "Don't say no, Taylor. We need to talk."

Taylor felt torn, confused, and, in some unfathomable way, betrayed. Which was absurd, considering she still had no idea what Reed had or hadn't done, and where the investigation--not to mention things between the two of them--stood.

She owed it to herself and to Reed to find out.

"Okay, I'll come," she said at last. "But just to talk. Or, in this case, listen. I'm not planning to stay.

Not unless I'm overwhelmed by what I hear."

Reed blew out his breath. "I won't pressure you. You set the rules. All I ask is that you come over to my apartment, sit down across from me face-to-face, and hear me out--with an open mind."

"The coming-over, sitting-down, and hearing-you-out parts I can manage. It's the open mind that's the rub. I'll try, Reed. That's the best I can do. As I said, I'm not objective when it comes to Jonathan Mallory."

"I realize that." He sounded so tired that Taylor couldn't help but feel pangs of compa.s.sion. Whatever she'd been through today, he'd been through the wringer as well.

"You sound beat," she said gently. "Maybe we should do this another night."

"No. This conversation can't wait." He paused. "But I appreciate your concern, and your caring."

"Yeah, well, both those things extend only to you," she warned. "Not your client."

"Fine. I understand where you're coming from. I'm not blaming you. What I am doing, is counting on you."

"For what? My presence? My undivided attention? You've got both. Anything more . .." Taylor sighed. "Let's just say I wouldn't hold my breath."

CHAPTER 26.

10:45 p.m.

EAST SIXTY-EIGHTH STREET.

Reed took Taylor's coat and shut the door behind her. "Jake got you here okay?"

"Like clockwork." She glanced around the apartment, wondering how a place that had felt so warm and homey a few days ago could feel so cold and foreign now.

"Make yourself comfortable." Reed gestured toward the rich bourbon-colored leather sofa in his living room. "I'll pour us some wine." As he headed toward the sideboard, he caught her guarded expression, and came to a rigid halt. "I'm trying to relax you, not lower your reserve. I think you know from firsthand experience that I don't seduce intoxicated women."

Taylor felt a twinge of shame. "You're right. You didn't deserve that. It's just been an unbearable day."

"I rest my case." He continued on his path, pouring two gla.s.ses of Merlot and carrying them over to the sofa as Taylor got settled.

She nudged off her low-heeled slingbacks and tucked her feet beneath her, noticing that he'd started a fire. The flames crackled cheerfully in the fireplace, sending a warm glow throughout the room. It took away some of the chill--but only the part that was externally generated.

The internal part would take a lot more to warm away.

"Bad news first," Reed began, sitting down beside her. "You were right about the weekend. I had to cancel. I'm sorrier than you can imagine. But there's too much happening for me to get away."

"I'm sure," Taylor acknowledged, sipping at her Merlot. "I, on the other hand, am on an enforced vacation. Jack ordered me to take two weeks off, starting immediately. I guess he's right. I need it."

Reed's frown had deepened with each word. "You're going away?" he demanded.

The severity of his tone startled her. And a niggling, unpleasant thought intruded. "Is that a legal question or a personal one?"

He slammed down his goblet. "G.o.ddammit, Taylor, is it really going to come to this? Are you going to interpret every question I ask you, every word I say, as a fis.h.i.+ng expedition meant to enhance my legal position?"

"I don't want to. But I'm not sure I can help it."

"Then let me give you a reason to try." He seized her gla.s.s and set it down on the coffee table, gripping her shoulders tightly. "I asked you what I did because I don't want you going away. Not without me, and certainly not alone. I'll worry about you and, more important, I'll miss you. Why? Because I'm in love with you. Believe me, I didn't plan to be. But I am. And it couldn't have happened at a worse time. And I wanted you to know that before we got into everything else we have to discuss."

His grasp eased as he felt a tremor run through her, and he searched her face for a reaction. "Say something."

A tight knot of emotion clogged Taylor's throat, and she swallowed hard to get past it. "I don't know what to say," she managed.

"At least tell me you believe me."

"I believe you."

"That's a good start. Now tell me you feel the same way."

Her chin came up, and she gave a hard shake of her head. "I don't want to. I want to stand up and walk out of here when you announce that you're representing Jonathan Mallory, which I know you're about to do. I want to stick to the resolution I made that I'd never become a stupid fool who let herself hope that love could conquer all. I want to. But I can't. Because I'm in love with you, too. Happy?"

"Yeah." He brushed his lips across her cheekbones--first one, then the other--before covering her mouth in a slow, tender kiss. "Very happy."

"Good," Taylor muttered, tugging her mouth away. "Because I don't see how this is going to work."

"Why? Because we don't agree about the ident.i.ty of your stalker?"

There it was.

Taylor wriggled a few inches away and picked up her goblet---as much a physical, if symbolic, barrier between them as an emotional balm for the conversation ahead. "After all that's happened, how can you think Jonathan Mallory is innocent?"

"I can't explain. I'm not asking you to agree. I'm just asking you to trust in the fact that I'd never let anyone hurt you."

"I trust that you'd never willingly let anyone hurt me. Does that count?"

Reed sighed, sank back against the cus.h.i.+ons. "I guess it'll have to. For now."

"It's not your loyalty I'm questioning. It's your judgment. I'm the psychologist, not you. And I don't think Jonathan Mallory is rational."

"Maybe he's not. But he's not dangerous either." Reed made an impatient gesture. "Let's shelve this part of the talk, for now. I have something important to tell you. Something I can finally share with you, since, as of today, it's a fait accompli." He leaned toward her again, delivering the news with pleasure and pride. "I'm leaving Harter, Randolph and Collins and starting up my own firm."

She blinked. His big meeting. She'd a.s.sumed it had been postponed.

"Your meeting--it happened?"

"Sure did."

Once that sank in, Taylor leaned forward and gave him a big hug. "I thought this might be where you were headed." She drew back, studied his expression. "You feel good about this."

"Very. It's been a long time in coming. I can't go this route anymore. It's time for a change. I want long-standing clients, not just high-profile cases. I want to build relations.h.i.+ps with people I believe in.

I guess I've gotten idealistic in my old age."

"Old age?" Taylor grinned. "You're thirty-five."

"Okay, maybe not old. But definitely cynical. You'd be surprised what happens to your idealism after ten years of practicing in the big leagues."

"I can imagine." Taylor's forehead creased in concern. "And you're right that Harter, Randolph and Collins is not known for its idealism. Still, you were a strong a.s.set. I shudder to think of the partners' reaction when you made your announcement. I a.s.sume they were opposed to your leaving?"

"Let's say they were less than thrilled."

"Which is why you were wrestling with the logistic and ethical repercussions of your decision. You were trying to find a mutually acceptable way to part ways."

"Exactly. That's what these two weeks were about. Finding a solution we could all live with."

"Which you obviously did."

An odd expression crossed Reed's face. "I believe so, yes. When I walked out today, we were all on the same page. They've agreed to support my decision. They're also helping in any way they can-- with referrals, references, whatever I need."

"Just like that?" Something about that scenario seemed very strange. The break was just too clean, too abrupt. "I don't get it. The timing sounds bizarre. Not to mention, you can't represent Jonathan Mallory if you're not part of the firm. So who will they get to..." Taylor's voice trailed off as the truth struck home.

The timing wasn't bizarre. The timing was intentional.

Her insides gave a twist. "Oh, Reed, please don't tell me you cut a deal with the senior partners. Don't tell me you agreed to take Jonathan Mallory on as your first client in exchange for Harter, Randolph and Collins's blessing to start your own firm and their help in making it happen."

A muscle flexed in his jaw. "It's not that simple."

"G.o.d." Taylor put down her wine. "I don't believe this. Your giant career step--the one meant to help you sleep at night and like yourself better--is all falling nicely into place as a result of the Berkley homicides."

"Taylor, stop it." Reed caught her arms. "I'm not a patsy, or an idiot. And I'm certainly not a hypocrite. Yes, I'm striking out on my own so I can expand my professional horizons. But I never said I planned on abandoning criminal law altogether. I'm not. I'm just becoming more selective about who I represent. So don't make this sound like I was bought off in some dirty deal worked out to get what I want. I was leaving the firm either way. It makes me sick that Douglas and Adrienne were murdered. Do I think Harter, Randolph and Collins used the situation to their advantage? Of course I do. But Jonathan is ent.i.tled to representation--a.s.suming he needs it. Remember, he hasn't been charged with anything, nor do I think he will be. I talked to him. I happen to believe he's innocent."

"Innocent." Taylor said the word as if it were foreign. "Is that a fact-based a.s.sessment or wishful thinking?"

"It's instinct." Reed's eyes glittered. "I've got ten years' experience to back it up. Don't question my ability or my integrity. It's an insult to me and far beneath you."

That barb struck home, and Taylor flushed. "You're right. I'm just having a hard time accepting all this."

"I a.s.sumed you would. And I'm sorry you have to be in the middle of it. Ideally, the case will come to a speedy resolution and we can put it behind us. The same goes for whoever's stalking you." He paused, and Taylor could see he was struggling to get out his next words. "For the record, I don't capitalize on people's murders. In case you need to hear me say it, I'd much prefer to have fought this fight the hard way, if it meant Adrienne and Douglas would still be alive. Unfortunately, I don't have that option."

Taylor felt a ma.s.sive wave of guilt. Reed was not only the man she loved, he was a good man.

"Reed, stop." She reached out, took his hand, and interlaced her fingers with his. "You don't need to say any of this. I know who you are. And you're right. If I didn't have such strong, negative personal feelings about Jonathan, I'd be applauding the way you handled this." She frowned. "I have so many questions. But I can't ask any of them, can I?"

Reed brought her fingers to his mouth. "By the end of the weekend, Jonathan should no longer be a suspect."

"In the murders, maybe. But what about with regard to me?"

A hard sigh. "Those suspicions can't be erased until we find the stalker."

"You really don't think it's Jonathan, do you?"

"No. I don't. And if it's any consolation to you, he knows how bizarre he sounded when he talked to you last night. But there were reasons for it, reasons I can't get into. The good news is, I think he's starting to believe that you and he aren't going to happen. Give me time. Doing my job could result in putting an end to his fixation with you. I have a couple of ideas. Like I said, give me time."

"Okay." Taylor bit back the slew of questions she was dying to ask. There was no point. Reed couldn't tell her any more than he already had, at least not yet.

But there was something she had to tell him.

"Detective Hadman wants me to come to the precinct tomorrow and talk to him, since I was a guest at the reception. I hope you realize I have to be honest. If he asks me about Jonathan Mallory's behavior that night, or if I perceived any tension between him and his father and stepmother, I plan on telling him the truth."

"I expect you to." Reed didn't miss a beat. "Answer all his questions openly and honestly. Hedging can only hurt the investigation and make my client look even more suspicious. On the other hand, I'd ask that you try to be as objective as you can, under the circ.u.mstances."

"In other words, stick to the facts." Taylor nodded. "That's more than fair." A shrug. "Besides, Hadman already knows I'm uneasy about Jonathan, since he was on my list of potential stalkers. He might touch on the subject as it goes to character, but I doubt it'll hold much weight when it comes to investigating a double homicide. I just wanted to make sure you and I were on the same page."

"We are." Reed's brows were drawn, and there was clearly something else on his mind. "Did you talk to Hadman about the call trace? Did he have anything for you?"

"No." Taylor filled him in on what Detective Hadman had learned about the prepaid cell phone.