Cut to the Chase (16 page)

A
s he had done at CHOP, Paul watched Mia work the fifth floor of Pennsylvania Hospital with remarkable grace. She seemed so at ease and invested in the story she was telling Scott Morris's former staff that he almost believed she might actually write an article about Dr. Mitchell Morris at the end of all this.

It was obvious that those in the oncology department who knew Dr. Mitchell Morris respected him, noting how he had a way of inspiring new doctors and reigniting the flames of veteran physicians that might have been on their way to being snuffed out. But as polite as the nurses and doctors were to him and Mia, Paul couldn't dismiss the frigid undertones, the clipped responses they received when Mia asked questions about Scott Morris. Although not as forthcoming as Clara, each nurse and doctor had given Mia an eerily similar response. In a nutshell, Scott Morris was a good doctor who paid close attention to detail, was prompt and insanely organized. However, his bedside manner, the way he connected with patients and his colleagues, had left a lot to be desired.

Paul was in the middle of his own interview when he heard Mia's phone ring. He looked over and saw Mia glance at her phone with what appeared to be curiosity, then excuse herself from the marathon conversation she was having with a very talkative doctor. But within seconds of Mia's phone call, Paul could tell something was wrong. He quickly withdrew one of his business cards from his wallet and handed it to the young woman he was interviewing.

“Please call me if you remember anything…if there is something you would like me to know about Dr. Mitchell Morris or about his son, Scott,” Paul said. He forced a smile and then went to see what was causing that horrific look on Mia's face.

“I'm coming, Ben.” Mia said to the mystery caller. She ended the call and looked at him.

“What is it, Mia?” he asked.

Paul could tell she was fighting back tears because she refused to look at him. “The police just found Rose.” Mia swallowed and then took a deep breath. “She's dead, Paul.”

Mia had known Ian and his twin sisters, Hannah and Jillian, but they had been grown and almost out of the house by the time Mia came on the scene. Unfortunately, Rose's son and two daughters were now scattered across two countries. Ian was a naval engineer stationed in Japan. Hannah and Jillian had left New York several years ago to set up a hospital dedicated to children infected with AIDS in Numidia, Africa. It would take some time just for Rose's children to make travel arrangements and return for their mother's funeral, let alone plan the details of such a morbid event. Mia knew what it was like to lose parents. She had to do something.

Mia picked up the phone and found Ben's number in her history. He answered on the second ring. “Hi, Mia. Hitting traffic?” he asked.

Ben Rollins had been on the force at the same time she assumed her position as a profiler. The fact that he had asked her out over a dozen times suggested they could have been more than just colleagues. He was nice enough and definitely wonderful to look at, but Mia didn't want to expend the energy to start something she feared would be a dead end. There was no spark; her belly didn't do flips when they shared the same space; she didn't daydream about him or fantasize about what it would be like to touch him. Her body never ached for Ben…like it did for Paul.

“A little. We should be there in five minutes. How's Henry?” Mia asked. She had called Ben earlier, several times, in fact, to check in on her furry little man. Despite being outside for more than twelve hours from what the police estimated was the time of death, Ben assured her that Henry appeared healthy and happy.

“He's very…energetic,” Ben said.

Mia chuckled. “He's not behaving, is he?”

“He definitely loves to go for walks. He and I have covered most of the east side this afternoon and he still doesn't look tired,” Ben said.

“Thanks for taking care of him. He'll sleep like a champ tonight,” Mia said.

“Not a problem.”

Although Mia was staring out the passenger-side window, she could feel Paul's gaze weigh heavily on her. “Well, Ben, any movement on the case?” Mia asked.

“Looks like an unfortunate accident, Mia. There is absolutely no sign of forced entry. Burglary doesn't seem to be a motive, since we found a diamond ring on her finger and a jar of money on the kitchen counter in perfect view of the front door. High-ticket items such as her television, a digital camera and an iPhone were also untouched. But most importantly, there is no evidence that your neighbor was physically assaulted. It appears that she tripped and hit her head.”

Mia pictured the final seconds of Rose's life and cringed. “Do you think the guys would mind if I had a look at the scene? I don't want to intrude…I know that I no longer work for…”

“I think they would welcome your expertise,” he said, cutting her off.

“Thanks.” Mia felt like she was overstepping her bounds, but she needed to ask for another favor. “Ben, have Rose's children been notified?”

“Yes, we called them a few hours ago. Ian and his sisters said they would be here as soon as they could. I anticipate that all three children will be delayed, however. Hannah and Jillian cannot just up and leave. They will probably have to wait until their replacements have arrived before they can fly out. Ian will also have to request leave from his superiors and that can take some time.”

That was what Mia expected. “Ben, could you give me their contact information? I want to reach out to them, see if there is anything I can do.”

Ben gave her the three phone numbers and she plugged them into her phone. She told Ben she would see him soon and ended the call.

“Who's Ben?” Paul asked.

Paul had been silent for most of the car ride from Philly to New York. It was like he knew she needed some quiet time to process yet another loss. So, it startled her when he questioned her about Ben.

“We worked together when I was on the force. He's watching Henry for me…or should I say, maintaining him to the best of his ability,” Mia said, smiling a little as she thought about her disobedient puppy.

But Paul wasn't smiling. In fact, he looked pissed. She was just about to ask him why he looked fit to kill, when his face softened and the scowl disappeared. “I'm glad Henry's all right. You must miss the little terror,” he said.

The sudden shift, the way Paul could go from brooding to compassionate, gave her reason to pause. But there was no time to analyze how or why his emotions seemed to jump around. They rounded the corner and she instantly saw two police vehicles parked in front of Rose's home. The scene was all too familiar, evoking memories that she had worked hard to suppress.

P
aul watched Henry break free of someone he assumed was Ben and come barreling toward Mia. She squatted down and clapped her hands. “Come here, buddy,” she said.

Henry knocked her onto her backside and covered her with kisses. She was laughing and crying as she apologized for being away so long, for leaving him outside without food and water for hours. It wasn't her fault, none of it was, but it was obvious she was feeling very guilty.

“My dog-sitting duties have come to an end,” said Ben.

With great effort, she unraveled herself from Henry and stood. Ben hugged her and she returned the gesture. The sight shouldn't have made him want to hurt something, but God did Paul want to punch that man in the face! Between his lingering hug and the way the prick blushed a feverish pink when the embrace finally came to an end, Paul determined that the man thought of her as more than just a former colleague.

“Ben, this is my friend, Paul,” she said.

Never had Paul felt such disdain for a word as he did when Mia uttered the word “friend.” He had no right to feel jealous, so possessive of a woman he had just met, but he didn't care. Paul shook his hand and said, “Thanks for taking care of Henry while we were away.”

Paul wondered if Ben had gotten the message. Mia may not have come to the conclusion as of yet, but she was with him now. Ben was part of her past. Paul met Ben's steely glare while providing a firm handshake. Yeah, Ben had read the situation correctly. But would this ex-whatever-he-was stand down or continue to pursue Mia?

“Henry was a perfect gentleman,” Ben said, retracting his hand from Paul's.

“And you're a horrible liar,” Mia said, reaching for Henry's leash. She smiled at Ben. “I'm going to take Henry home and get him settled. It'll only take a minute.”

“Take your time. I'll see you next door,” Ben said. Her “colleague” didn't look at Paul, which only infuriated him more. Instead, Ben's eyes were fixed on Mia. Finally, Ben turned and walked away.

Once inside Mia's house, with the door secured behind them, she said, “Until we can rule out that Rose's death isn't linked to…everything else that is happening, would you mind sticking around for a bit? I know it's highly unlikely that there is a connection, but I…”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Paul said.

Mia nodded. “Well, I'll just go put Henry in his room, then.” Mia patted her leg and called for Henry to come. Henry actually complied and followed Mia down the hallway into what appeared to be a bedroom. Moments later, Paul heard a familiar voice come across the television. Curious, he retraced Mia and Henry's footsteps and found Henry already curled up in a ball in a plush dog bed. “He loves the Weather Channel. It's his favorite. Puts him right out,” Mia said, patting her sleepy dog on the head.

“I can relate. I'll flick the Weather Channel on when I can't sleep. Has a similar effect on us humans, I guess.” Mia dimmed the lights and walked out into the hallway with him. “So Henry has his own room?” he asked.

“Yeah, I consider it a big crate, really. He has his space and I still have control over my own bedroom,” she said.

Paul was listening, but his attention was diverted to the few dozen photos of Mia and who he assumed were her parents and Andrew on the wall behind her. “That pier looks familiar. Ocean City Boardwalk?” he asked.

Mia turned and gazed at the grainy photo of her and whom he could only conclude was her father. Covered in sand from head to toe in a pink and green bikini with the grand wooden pier in the background, Mia couldn't have been more than six years old during that particular summer vacation. “The one and only. My parents didn't have much money, but they always seemed to squeeze a few days in at the beach every summer somehow.”

“Same here. Our parents worked hard, lived paycheck to paycheck, but miraculously found a way to take Erin and me on vacation each year. The Jersey Shore was always the destination. I had spent many a night walking the boards of Ocean City, sampling the…”

“Girls?” she asked, raising a playful eyebrow.

Yeah, there had been a lot of “sampling” when he had reached his mid-teens and even more when he was in college, but Mia didn't need to know that. “I was going to say sampling the food.”

“Food? Yeah, okay,” she said, clearly not believing him. She looked at another photo and pointed to a Ferris wheel. “In between sampling all the ‘food' that the Ocean City Boardwalk had to offer, did you take time to enjoy the rides?”

Paul loved her sass, the way she could give it right back to him. “Erin made the unfortunate mistake of devouring four slices of Mack and Manco pizza before riding that exact Ferris wheel. I told her that we should wait, let the food digest, but she insisted. Her sun-tanned face went green after the first revolution. I reached her just in time to hold back her hair. The operator of the ride was not pleased.”

“Oh no,” she laughed.

Paul could have spent all night asking about each photo that was hung on the wall, learning the story behind every one of Mia's smiles, but he knew that people were waiting for her next door. Ruining their lighthearted conversation, he asked, “Should we head on over?”

Her smile faded as reality crept in and took its rightful place. “Yeah, let me grab a sweatshirt.” Mia moved past him and entered the room opposite of Henry's. He almost followed her, as he ached to see where she laid her head down each night and surrendered to sleep, but he refrained. Instead, he looked at the wall of photos and zeroed in on a photo of Mia, no longer six years old, no longer a child, and every bit a young woman. He couldn't decipher where the photo had been taken or what event she was attending, but regardless, Mia was stunning. Her long brown hair was pulled back, exposing her flawless neck and diamond-studded earrings. The floor-length dress hugged her ample curves as she posed for the camera with a woman whose smile mimicked her own. The mature woman at her side had to be her mother, as the resemblance was just too strong to assume otherwise.

Paul looked away at the sound of Mia's bedroom door clicking shut. “I think Henry is out for the count. Better that we leave now while he is in a Weather Channel–induced coma.”

Paul nodded and with his hand firmly situated at the small of Mia's back, he led her next door.

M
ia had debated with herself for all of five minutes before pushing the
SEND
button on her cell. Knowing her uncle like she did, he would probably blame himself somehow. Like he had planned on being away on assignment at the exact moment her neighbor was found dead. It was best he heard the news from her, rather than from some other source. No doubt he was keeping tabs on her somehow. It was just a matter of time until the news would reach him, even while taking in some rays down south.

“Mia, what's wrong?” Uncle Drew asked. He sounded nervous, a complete contrast to his typical, composed self.

“I'm fine.” Mia paused. “But Rose…she's gone, Uncle Drew. Fortunately, Benny and two other guys I knew during my short time on the force received the call this morning. Ben found Henry barking incessantly in Rose's side yard, the very ruckus that prompted an annoyed neighbor to call and complain. Ben called me after he read Henry's dog tags.”

“So, what are we looking at here? Have they determined cause of death?” he asked.

“I just checked out the scene for myself. The injury to her head is consistent with a slip and fall accident. I found…evidence…on the cast-iron umbrella urn just inside the front door.” Mia wanted to remain in cop mode, where emotions safely took a back seat, but she found that her already-fragile walls were beginning to crack.

“I'm so sorry, Mia. I should be there with you,” Uncle Drew said.

Mia shook her head. “No, you are right where you need to be. Protecting Erin.” Mia sighed. “I'm all right, Uncle Drew, Paul and I…”

“Paul Whitley is with you?” he asked, cutting her off.

His clipped tone was foreign to her. She reverted back to a little girl and answered, “Yes.”

“Mia, I wish to speak with him, sweetheart. Please put Whitley on the phone,” he said, his voice just a touch softer, despite the term of endearment.

Mia looked over at Paul and caught him throwing dog food pellets to Henry in her kitchen. Paul had a smile on his face as he praised Henry for catching the little morsels in midair. “Good boy,” Paul said, patting her dog's massive head.

“Um…Paul? My uncle would like to talk to you,” Mia said, holding up her cell phone.

Paul's smile melted away. “Is my sister okay?” he asked.

Mia felt terrible. Why the hell did she not squash that fear right off the bat? “Erin is fine. Sorry to scare you.”

Paul exhaled as she handed him the phone. Within seconds, Paul excused himself and walked away…out of earshot. Mia knew that Erin was physically fine, but how was she faring emotionally?

Mia heard Paul's hushed voice utter a semblance of good-bye, and he ended the call with her uncle. Paul walked toward her and handed her the phone. “What would make you more comfortable? Me sleeping on your couch? Or you and Henry sleeping in my spare bedroom?”

Paul may as well have been speaking French. What the hell was he talking about?

“Um…neither. I mean…what
did
you tell Uncle Drew?”

“Your uncle doesn't feel like you should be alone tonight. And I agreed with him,” Paul said.

“My overprotective uncle, the same that jacked up one of the few high school boyfriends I had because he stared at me a little too long for his taste, asked you to partake in a sleepover with his niece?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he said.

“Spill it, Whitley. You're holding out on me,” she said, studying those piercing blue eyes of his.

Paul sighed, signaling that he probably had hoped she would have conceded and refrained from digging deeper into her uncle's odd request. “Mia, your uncle has informed me that he will abandon his assignment if you choose to refuse my company,” he said, his tone serious. “He doesn't want you to be alone tonight.”

“My uncle would never walk out…just leave Erin and Chase without protection,” she said, shaking her head vigorously.

“For you, he would.”

Mia was considering her uncle's terms when Paul continued, “And don't ask me to lie to Andrew. He may be over a thousand miles away, but somehow he would know if we didn't pick one of those two options.”

Damn it! It was like Paul was reading her mind.

Mia was two seconds away from feigning surprise, maybe even disgust at what Paul had said, but he would see right through her. Instead, she thought about her uncle's ultimatum and tried to determine just how probable it would be for him to hop on Chase's jet and fly home to New York to be with her. It was definitely not out of the realm of possibility for her uncle to leave Erin and Chase alone on that island, considering he had secured his pilot's license years ago.

Well, shit. There was no way out of this.

“I would offer you the other bedroom, but…well, I haven't been in there, no one has, since my dad died,” Mia said.

“The couch is fine, Mia.”

“It's a pullout. I'll go get you some sheets.” Mia walked to the hall linen closet and retrieved a queen-sized set and returned to see that he had already transformed the sofa into his sleeping quarters for the night. She had to keep reminding herself that it was just for the night. And it wasn't as if Paul really had a choice in the matter. His sister would be left without her bodyguard if he didn't comply.

Mia unfolded the fitted sheet and started to tuck the first corner in when Paul grabbed the opposite end and followed her lead. They finished the domestic task in under a minute. With the freshly made bed staring at her, beckoning to be used for more than just sleeping, Mia suddenly felt nervous and very much the inexperienced woman she was. She decided that a diversion was absolutely necessary. “I'm in the mood for some pizza and a movie in which I don't have to think too much,” she said, careful not to meet his gaze. Yes, food is everybody's friend. And a good guy flick, one devoid of angst and heated stares.

The food arrived forty-five minutes later. Sitting on the couch, now pulled-out bed, Mia and Paul happily dug into their pizza. Mia didn't realize until she took her first bite that she hadn't eaten since that morning. Paul was surfing through her on-demand movies when Mia spotted the movie she always seemed to watch whenever she encountered it on regular television. “That one,” she said, as Paul highlighted
Cool Hand Luke
with the remote control.

“Perfect,” he said, hitting
PLAY
. He placed the remote on the coffee table, propped a few pillows behind him and continued with his meal. He looked so relaxed, as if he belonged there, in her home, in her bed.

Mia pushed that thought aside, knowing it couldn't lead anywhere, and focused her attention on one of her favorite movies of all time. But after several minutes, Mia realized that a sexy and very young Paul Newman was no match for the gorgeous man lying next to her. She strategically placed an invisible two-foot barrier between them, but it couldn't keep his earthy and arousing scent from invading her space.

Mia didn't want to be a lousy host, just eating and shuffling off to bed, but she couldn't endure the silent torture either. She just wanted him to reach over and tuck her beneath him. She wanted to feel his weight upon her as he kissed her with that same sense of urgency she had felt in the park. Reluctantly, Mia placed her empty plate on the table next to her and tried to spark up conversation. “Why did you become a lawyer?”

Paul had been grinning at the television when she broached the question. He looked over at her and said, “A few of us, lawyers I mean, actually are interested in the business to find the truth and act accordingly.”

Mia's intention wasn't to offend him, but to distract herself from the beautiful man she wanted to touch. “Sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound like…”

“Mia, I'm playing with you.” Paul smiled, which made her belly do somersaults. He folded his hands in his lap. “I knew early on that I wanted to be a civil rights attorney. But after my parents died, I shifted to personal injury.”

Mia had learned from Erin that their parents had died in the horrific pier accident along the Delaware River. The news of the incident had reached all the way to New York City for a couple reasons. The fact that seventeen people in all had died that night was definitely newsworthy. But months later, when all the legal dust had settled, the restaurant, along with two construction companies, had been found negligent and ordered to pay each victim's family an undisclosed sum to compensate for the damages.

“Two of my colleagues handle medical malpractice; another focuses on product fault. I take on the personal injury cases that have resulted in serious injury or death of a family member…like what happened to my parents.”

Mia cringed. A week ago, she had sat on Chase's couch and asked Paul if he was seeing a therapist. No wonder he balked at the idea of therapy. Every day, every time he went into the office and defended the rights of someone who had been wronged due to negligence, he was working through his issues in regards to his parents' passing.

But was he seeking help for what his sister's rape had invoked? Watching Paul with his sister, Mia got the impression that he could be extremely possessive and demanding. And the dream. The dream she had interrupted still lingered in her mind. He had been calling Mia's name, but in the chaos of the dream, he had probably swapped out Erin's name for hers. Made sense since they had spent the evening together planning for their case. There was so much turmoil on his face and then…rage. She couldn't be sure, but it was possible the monster that had violated his sister still haunted him, weaving his way into Paul's nightmares.

“Paul, I didn't mean to get so personal…or make you recall why you had switched your concentration from civil law to personal injury,” Mia said, embarrassed that she had unintentionally pried into his business.

Paul reached out his hand and caressed the side of her cheek. Her already-flushed face must have shot to a fiery red. “I'm sure that my sister made mention that I'm not one to…share my thoughts.”

“I think Erin's exact words were, ‘My brother isn't very forthcoming'…and that you don't trust easily,” Mia said.

His eyes focused on her mouth and she licked her lips without thinking. His eyes went dark and for a moment she thought he was going to lean in and kiss her. But, much to her disappointment, he stopped right before he met her lips with his. “Do you remember what I said to you in Chase's parking garage?”

Mia felt the words leave her. She could have that kiss again, the one that made her weak and wanting all of him at once, if she would just form a coherent thought. Sensing her sudden lack of speech, he said, “If you ever want to know how you make me feel…all you have to do is ask.”

She stared at him as the pad of his thumb stroked her cheek and then her lower lip. She wanted to mold her lips and tongue around his finger, a move she had never made on a guy before. And that was the moment her cell phone decided to intervene. It also marked the end of what looked like a very promising evening.