Authors: Heather Lowell
“Tread easy. Sledge Aiken is a man who’s got no respect for women—or anyone else who gets between him and what he wants. He has fame and a fortune in endorsements to protect, which makes him damned dangerous.”
Tessa heard the tone of caution in Ed’s voice.
At least he believes that Sledge Aiken is responsible for whatever happened to Kelly.
It was a start, even if Ed’s warning did send a shiver through her body.
Los Angeles, California
Friday, February 26
T
essa got back to the District Attorney’s office after seven that evening, thanks to LA’s famously gridlocked freeways. Despite the hour, she was eager to begin planning her strategy for building a case against Sledge Aiken. She went into her cramped office, flipped on the light switch, and walked to the whiteboard nailed on the wall across from her desk.
Several minutes later she had a diagram of the case labeled in her notorious shorthand. She turned when she heard a voice from the doorway.
“Working after six on a Friday gets you double brownie points, you know. Especially when your boss catches you doing it.”
“Hi, Carmen.” Tessa turned to look at Carmen Ramirez, who at age forty was one of the youngest district attorneys in the history of Los Angeles. Carmen was dressed in a stunning red cocktail gown, apparently heading off to some political function. Tessa knew a lot of the D.A.’s work was
done after hours and outside of courtrooms, so her dark-haired boss was dressed to kill.
“Working on the Aiken investigation? I already gave you the case,” Carmen said. “You don’t have to prove to me that you’ve earned it.”
“I just came from talking to him, so I wanted to get some stuff down while the information is fresh.”
“I’ve got a few minutes before the Hispanic League fund-raiser. Bottom-line it for me.” Carmen perched on the edge of Tessa’s desk.
“Eighteen-year-old girl goes on a date with Aiken, then goes back to his place for a nightcap. From there, the stories diverge. She says he refused to take no for an answer and raped her. He says anything they did was consensual, and he’s always being pursued by groupies wanting a cash settlement for spending the night with him.”
“Any witnesses or forensic evidence?”
“Witnesses can only show a prior association, starting about a month before the assault. The rape kit turned up evidence of rough sexual contact, but was inconclusive for anything else.”
“You know the burden is on us—and the victim—to prove that what happened was an assault. Historically, juries don’t favor the woman in this type of case.”
“I know,” Tessa said. “But the victim was later physically assaulted—I saw the black eye and bruises myself, even though she denies anyone hit her.”
“Then what’s the holdup with the police?” Carmen asked, her dark eyes impatient.
“First of all, she’s not cooperating.”
“Then why do we care about her?” Carmen asked.
“Because she’s a scared kid. I’m working to build her trust—I’m almost there. Once she believes in us, I think the truth will come out.”
“So we work on the aspects of the investigation that don’t require cooperation from the victim,” Carmen mused.
“Yes,” Tessa said. “I’m still clearing up a couple of issues with the victim’s background. She was in possession of several credit cards belonging to other men as well as a large sum of cash, and she eventually gave a plausible reason for that. The cards, along with her lack of ID, initially threw off our investigation.”
“What does Flynn think about this?” Carmen asked.
“He’s agreed that Kelly is telling the truth about the assault. He was, ah, concerned about the other details of the case and the effect they might have on the victim’s credibility. That’s why I’m trying to gather additional evidence to push forward—much more evidence than would normally be required for a rape case. But right now I can’t even get another interview with the suspect. He refuses to speak to us unless we go through his lawyer.”
“Who is his counsel?” Carmen asked.
“Carl Abrahms.” Tessa winced, waiting for the explosion.
“
¡Santa María!
No way, do you hear me? I’m not going to tangle with that shark in my first year as district attorney.
Carajo,
the honeymoon is already over as far as the voters are concerned—this kind of bad publicity would be like declaring open season on Carmen Ramirez.”
Tessa nodded glumly. Carl Abrahms was a legend for taking on seemingly impossible cases with high-profile clients—and winning them. He had a tireless staff that could turn out enough well-researched motions and other legal documents to keep the D.A.’s entire staff busy for years to come.
“Have you talked to Abrahms yet?” Carmen asked.
“No. We just wanted an informal, off-the-record statement from Aiken first. But he lawyered up right away. I’m sure we’ll be hearing from Abrahms soon, though.”
The D.A. snorted. “He’s probably filing a police harassment case as we speak. He does that if someone even looks sideways at one of his clients.”
Tessa nodded again. “I believe Aiken mentioned those words. Still, he dropped a tidbit that I just can’t leave alone.”
“What?”
“He mentioned some experience with palimony suits in the past. I’m just wondering what else might have been involved, and if there is enough to show a pattern of sexual abuse of women.” Tessa drew a line leading away from Sledge Aiken’s name on her whiteboard, then put a question mark at the end of it.
“You’re going to have to be very careful—as in, don’t bother Sledge Aiken or his lawyer while you do the background work,” Carmen said.
“But—”
“No. Aiken and his lawyer know too many powerful people in this city. If you go after him up front, he’ll take you down and me with you.”
“So basically we can’t disturb the famous people with pesky little things like state and federal laws, a victim’s rights, or anything like that?” Tessa asked. She had known the edict was coming, but was still angry that politics would come ahead of the law and Kelly Martin’s rights.
“Not until you have enough proof to make an arrest. With the Kobe Bryant and Michael Jackson cases in the past, we have to be very careful about releasing the name of accused celebrities before we have any evidence. And judges have underscored that trend in the last year by not giving much leeway to prosecutors and police who want to open up the life of the accused merely to go fishing.”
“How else are we supposed to gather evidence?” Tessa asked.
“Quietly. And make sure the members of the media don’t catch wind of this, or we could be looking at a lawsuit if the case falls apart. So work with Ed Flynn inconspicuously and put together enough evidence for warrants behind Aiken’s back. Then we can look through his financial records and
openly interview previous associates—and you can fry his ass for all I care. He went to a fund-raiser for my opponent during the election,” Carmen said with a feline smile.
“You’re tying my hands—how am I supposed to get proof without ‘bothering’ Aiken?” Tessa asked.
“It’s called discretion. You guys will probably need to team up with an investigator outside the police force, one who can poke around without tripping any alarms. At this point, if we so much as do an official check of Aiken’s credit, his lawyer is going to get a phone call. I’d rather lull them into a false sense of security.”
Carmen stood and paced, tapping her fingers along her arms as she continued. “Talk to your father. We need an investigator who’s wired into the system, but not currently a part of it. That rules out anyone we’ve used for recent cases. Maybe he can suggest a firm that would allow us to go private with the investigation—without having to break the rules. Just bend them a little.”
Tessa bit her tongue against an instinctive protest. She hated that Carmen knew who her father was. And she really didn’t want to use her personal connections to gain information, even to further a case. She’d never once done that in four years with the D.A. But that reluctance was due to Tessa’s tense relationship with her father, not because she didn’t understand the nature of contacts and politics. Having a father who was the former director of the FBI was a valuable thing. She just hated to cash in on it.
“I’ve already thought of contacting an outside P.I. firm,” Tessa began. With Carmen’s new edict in mind, Tessa was formulating a plan to say the private investigators would only be looking at the credit cards found in Kelly’s possession. In reality, they could do the background research into Sledge Aiken’s past without alerting the star or his lawyer.
“I can see by your expression that you’re already plotting something new. So why don’t you run it by your father when you call him? I really think he could be helpful in this situation,
since he’ll have contacts that will come in under Carl Abrahms’s radar.” Carmen raised an eyebrow while waiting for a response.
No help for it, Tessa decided as she checked her watch. “I’ll do it now. I should be able to catch him before he goes to his supper club. He’s big about his routines.”
“Good. In the meantime, stay away from direct contact with Aiken. We can’t afford to antagonize him or his lawyer any further until we have concrete evidence.” Carmen picked up her jeweled cocktail purse and left for the fund-raiser.
Tessa reached for the phone before she lost her nerve. Talking to her father never went well. It was usually impossible to keep the feelings of disappointment and antagonism that colored their relationship from spilling over into anything but the most shallow of discussions.
She cleared her throat as the housekeeper answered the phone. “Hello, this is Tessa. Is Mr. Jacobi in?” She didn’t refer to him as Dad—and hadn’t done so since her mother’s funeral, when Tessa was eight years old. That was the day Paul Jacobi had shipped her off to a boarding school in Connecticut and begun a steady relationship with a nineteen-year-old fashion model.
Tessa sat at her computer and pulled open a file, refusing to dwell on the past and her damaged family life. When Paul Jacobi’s voice came over the line, there were no initial pleasantries or small talk—he knew something had to be up for Tessa to call him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Tessa said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She hesitated.
Just do it. This is no big deal, he gets asked stuff like this every day.
“I need a favor,” she said baldly.
Paul Jacobi’s silence was deafening. He knew something big was going on in his daughter’s life to get her to ask him for anything.
“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
“Sure. I just need to pick your brain for a good private investigation firm. We have a very high-profile case, and if things aren’t handled discreetly, it could create a lot of heat for the D.A.”
“The best firm in town is Novak International. They’ve done work for the local, state, and federal governments.”
“Ah, is there another firm you can recommend?” Tessa asked.
“Lucas Novak has set up a first-class investigation firm. I’m sure he can handle whatever case you’re working on,” Paul said.
“No, he can’t. He’s already refused to take this case. Do you know of anyone else?”
“As far as I’m concerned, there
is
no one else. Look, why don’t I talk to him and straighten out your little misunderstanding?”
Tessa ground her teeth. “I didn’t misunderstand anything. Novak said he couldn’t help me.” A tension headache was building at the base of her skull.
“If he can’t help you, I don’t know who can.” There was a tone of stubborn finality in Paul’s voice. Tessa knew from experience that a full-blown argument was not far off, so she ended the call.
“Thanks for your time, anyway. I’ve got to get going. Oh, and tell Kevin to be ready tomorrow night at seven,” she said.
“Your brother is at a football game right now, but I’ll leave him a note.”
Tessa hung up and thought for a moment. Then she got ready to leave, pausing to straighten the files on her desk. There was no way she’d get any quality work done after the frustrations of the day. She planned to spend a quiet evening at home trying to forget about politics, celebrities, and investigations.
And tomorrow night she would take Kelly out to one of
the city’s hot spots for teens—a new pizza parlor and video arcade. Tessa wanted to take along her sixteen-year-old brother Kevin as well, to act as an icebreaker and provide some entertainment.
Hopefully the quiet weekend would be enough to help Tessa reground herself and remind everyone what the investigation into Sledge Aiken was really about. Not district attorney election politics, not star quarterbacks with multimillion-dollar endorsement deals. But a fragile, naive eighteen-year-old girl and a man who believed that his wealth and fame gave him license to do whatever he wanted to her.
Los Angeles, California
Saturday night, February 27
“D
on’t get too involved in the game. The pizza should be out soon,” Tessa said to Kelly above the din of arcade games and teenage chatter.
“I’m just a beginner, so my games only last a few minutes,” Kelly assured her. She turned and headed for the bank of full-sized games about twenty feet away from the table where Tessa and her brother sat.
“She’s really nice,” Kevin said.
“Yes she is. I want to thank you for giving up your Saturday night to help me out. Kelly’s had a really tough time lately, and I wanted her to have some fun,” Tessa said. She’d been working hard to gain Kelly’s trust, and in the last day seemed to have made some progress.
“Wait until I tell the wrestling team on Monday that I spent the weekend with
two
hot older babes,” Kevin said with a grin. A lock of light brown hair fell across his forehead as he turned to watch Kelly’s progress.
Tessa laughed and resisted the urge to smooth the hair out of her brother’s eyes. She had been the closest thing Kevin
had to a mother for the first few years of his life, so it was hard for her to think that he was practically grown-up now. Still, he was a great kid—how many sixteen-year-olds would help their sisters out on the biggest date night of the week?
“Kelly’s only two years older than you are,” she told him.
“Maybe. But she’s got a look sometimes that makes me think she’s a hundred,” Kevin said. “Other times she’s just like any other girl in my high school.”
Tessa nodded at his perception. “Like I said, it’s been a tough month for her.” She hesitated, not wanting to draw Kevin too far into the ugliness of the case. “Something really bad happened to Kelly, and I’m trying to help her through it,” Tessa finally said.
“I’m glad she’s got you on her side. You helped me through some bad times when no one else was around.”
“Thanks,” Tessa said past the lump in her throat. “I knew what it felt like not to have a mom, especially when Paul wasn’t around either. I never wanted you to go through that.”
“So you moved back in with our father and the stepmonster to take care of me.” Kevin said, referring to his mother with an irreverent grin. He loved his mother, but wasn’t blind to her failings. “That’s sisterly dedication above and beyond the call of duty.”
Kevin’s mother, Lana Olsen, had been a nineteen-year-old rising fashion model before meeting Paul Jacobi less than a week after his first wife’s sudden drowning death. Her subsequent marriage to him, acquiring a new stepdaughter, and Kevin’s birth eight years later hadn’t kept Lana from pursuing a highly competitive and international career.
Since no one else had planned to do so, Tessa returned home from boarding school at the age of sixteen to take care of her newborn brother. She’d been the focus of Kevin’s world until he’d turned six, and his mother had found her first hints of wrinkles and gray hairs. Though she was still a stunningly attractive woman in high demand as a model, Lana decided to retire and take up the position of mother for
the first time in her life. She’d been at the top of her field for too long to deal well with being passed over for the top assignments because she was in her thirties.
“I still remember the yelling and fighting after Mom finished her last contract,” Kevin said, as if reading Tessa’s mind. “She didn’t understand why she couldn’t come back home and pick up as if she’d never been gone.”
Tessa thought over her words carefully. While Kevin was very blasé about their dysfunctional family life, Tessa was always careful never to criticize Lana in front of him. “She wanted what was best for you. We all did.”
“Yeah, right. Is that why she moved across the country with me and Dad when I was six, and made it clear that you weren’t welcome in
her
new home?” He looked at her with cynical blue eyes that were a mirror of his father’s.
“She didn’t think our relationship was healthy. She and Paul wanted me to have a chance at a normal college life in Virginia.” Tessa almost choked on the words.
Kevin sneezed, though Tessa distinctly heard the word “bullshit,” buried in the act. At over six-four and 225 muscled pounds, Kevin had his mother’s looks and stunning physique, but he’d inherited Paul Jacobi’s keen mind and biting sarcasm. No one could fool the kid about what was really going on, even when he was six.
“That was a long time ago. You should just be happy that you had three people who loved you enough to fight over you,” Tessa said. She laughed when he shot her an incredulous look. “All right, I tried to put a positive spin on it. Anyway, let’s not burden Kelly with our family baggage, okay? She’s got enough to handle as it is.”
“Don’t worry, I’m done rehashing ancient history. I’m back to being Kelly’s date for the evening.”
“Good,” Tessa said, then waved Kelly over as their pizza arrived.
“So where’s your date?” Kevin asked Tessa. She narrowed her eyes at him. “So where are your manners?
Don’t you know better than to ask a woman over thirty why she’s flying solo for the evening?”
“Brother’s prerogative,” Kevin assured her, then bit into a cheesy slice of pizza.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Kelly asked Tessa.
“No,” Kevin said. “She broke it off with Mr. Perennial Grad Student about a year ago.”
Tessa ripped a piece of pizza free. The topic of her last long-term relationship was still a sore one. She couldn’t believe she’d wasted four years of her life on a spineless guy who saw nothing wrong with being a professional student. At the age of forty.
“I don’t have a boyfriend, Kelly. And even if I did, I’m not sure I’d call him that at my advanced age.”
“Thirty-six isn’t that old,” Kelly assured her innocently.
“I’m hardly thirty-three. Eat your pizza, child.”
Kevin and Kelly exchanged a conspiratorial smile and laughed. Tessa chuckled, too. If nothing else, her dull love life could provide some entertainment for a young girl who’d had very little to laugh about recently.
“I’ll leave you here while I drop Kelly off, okay, Kev?” Tessa stood next to the video game her brother was playing and had to practically shout to be heard.
“Sure thing.”
“I’ll be back in half an hour to pick you up—can you be out front?”
“Sure thing,” Kevin said, without looking up.
Tessa shook her head. “Come on, Kelly.”
They made their way through the crowd to exit at the front of the building. Tessa steered Kelly around the side of the building and past the back parking lot. The restaurant had been so crowded earlier that she’d had to park her car in the overflow lot farther down the alley. When they reached the lot, Tessa saw that other patrons had blocked the entire row by parking behind her car and the vehicles next to it.
“Great,” Tessa said. She walked around the front of her car to make sure there was no cement block or other item that would prevent her from pulling headfirst out of the parking spot. Kelly stood by the passenger door, waiting for it to be unlocked.
Standing up from her crouched position, Tessa nodded. “Looks okay. Maybe you should stay out here to spot me in case I get too close to the fence post,” she said. Behind her she heard a powerful engine downshift as it slowed to a stop.
When Kelly didn’t answer, Tessa looked at her across the hood of the car. The girl stood frozen with a look of horror on her face.
Tessa turned around to see that a huge black Hummer had blocked her from being able to pull forward out of the spot. Her car was effectively boxed in. The driver’s side door of the Hummer opened, and Tessa squinted to see who was getting out.
“Hey, can you move your car? I’m blocked in here,” Tessa said, straining for a casual tone as she saw the size of the man coming around the hood of the Hummer. He leaned casually against it. Something about the man’s body language and posture made Tessa’s heart skip a beat as adrenaline poured through her.
Recognition flared in an instant, and she abruptly understood why Kelly was frozen with fear.
“Get in the car and lock the doors,” Tessa said sharply. “Now, Kelly!” She tossed her keys to the girl, who caught them reflexively.
Sledge Aiken folded his arms across his chest and shook his head regretfully as Kelly obeyed the instructions. “Now why would you want to do that, darlin’? I just want to talk to you.”
“Stay away from her.” Tessa hurried around the front of the car to plant herself next to Kelly’s locked door.
“That’s not real hospitable. Especially when I came all
the way across town to talk to sweet Kelly and clear up any confusion.”
“She isn’t confused about being raped. Back off. Or do I have to get a restraining order?” Tessa asked. Her heart was pounding so hard and fast she was surprised the words came out steady.
“Yeah? And who’s going to give you one of them restraining orders?” Sledge had moved away from his car and toward Tessa. “I’ve done nothing wrong, I’m just here having a friendly word with the little lady. If she’s real nice, maybe I’ll give her another ride in my Hummer,” Sledge said with a feral grin.
Tessa stomach turned at the double entendre. Kelly flinched and leaned as far away from the locked door as she could. When Sledge stepped closer to the car, right into Tessa’s personal space, her chin went up.
It’s like dealing with a vicious dog, she told herself. Show no fear and convince the animal that you’re meaner than he is. He was big, but not as tall as her brother, so she refused to let him intimidate her with his size.
“Step away from the car, or I’ll have you arrested by 9:00
A.M.
tomorrow on rape charges,” Tessa said. “Think how that will play on the Sunday evening news. To say nothing of the Monday morning business shows, who will be talking about the diving stock prices of the companies whose products you’re endorsing.”
Even in the dim light she could see Aiken’s face turn hard and bright red. “You’ve got nothing on me, you silly bitch.”
Tessa crossed her own arms and leaned against the car with a bravado she did not feel. “I’ve got enough information in my files to haul you in anytime I want to question you further. Once that happens, it will only be a matter of time and digging before we come up with enough dirt to bury your sorry redneck ass.”
Sledge stepped closer and towered over her. “Yeah? Files have a nasty habit of getting misplaced, you know?”
Tessa caught her breath, more at the physical threat than the verbal one. Sledge turned his attention to Kelly, banging his fist on the window. “Girl, get your ass out of there right now. We’re going to have a talk.”
Kelly said nothing, just looked out at Tessa with huge, pleading eyes.
“Did you hear me? Get into my truck
now
,” Sledge repeated.
“Don’t move, Kelly,” Tessa countered.
“What the hell is going on here?” The masculine voice echoed in the quiet parking lot. Tessa had never been so glad to see her brother—ever.
Kevin Jacobi approached the car and stopped, hands planted on his hips. He knew enough about body language to understand that Tessa was scared to death of the man towering over her.
Tessa watched Sledge look over at the new arrival. She knew he was seeing well over six feet of honed muscles and bristling young attitude. What he didn’t realize was that Kevin was ranked at the national level in both football and wrestling, giving him the raw power and skills needed to take on a man of Sledge’s size. On top of that, Kevin had done years of close-quarters self-defense training with his father, ensuring that he could hold his own in a street brawl as well as on a wrestling mat. Tessa could have kissed him at that moment.
Sledge turned toward the car again, dismissing Kevin. “Go on home, boy. This is a private matter that don’t concern you.”
“You’re the one who needs to shove off, boy,” Kevin drawled.
“Yeah, who’s gonna make me?” Sledge asked, spreading his arms wide and looking around.
Kevin approached them, handing Tessa the red sweater
that he’d run out to return to Kelly. He then pushed his sister behind him and went nose to nose with Sledge, crowding him into taking a few steps away from the car.
“The ladies don’t like you. I suggest you leave,” Kevin said quietly.
“Fuck off.” Sledge shoved at Kevin with his hands, but wasn’t able to budge him. He was a couple inches shorter than the teenager, but confident and arrogant enough to think that he could take him anyway.
Kevin came back with a body slam, crashing into the older man’s chest with his own. While Sledge was off-balance, Kevin reached out with a foot and whisked his feet out from under him. The professional quarterback hit the ground hard enough to drive the breath out of his lungs.
As Kevin dove onto the ground to continue the brawl, Tessa began looking around for something to use as a weapon. Kelly shouted and held something through a small opening in the window.
“Here’s your cell phone, Tessa. I already dialed 911.”
“Thank God one of us has a brain.” Tessa grabbed the phone, which had been charging on the dashboard during dinner, and held it to her ear. “I need you to look in the backseat, Kelly. I have a big, metal flashlight lying around somewhere in there.”
Kelly leaned into the backseat and began patting around for the flashlight. Grunts and swear words came to her through the open window. “I don’t see it.”
“Keep looking. It’s long and black—like the kind police officers carry,” Tessa said. She checked on Kevin, but he was still on top. She figured that meant he was okay for now.
“Got it! It’s under my seat, hang on.”
Kelly broke two nails tugging, but finally pulled it free. She tried to pass it through the window, but the flashlight was too wide. With shaking fingers she turned the key she’d put in the ignition enough to get power to the automatic windows again.
Tessa grabbed the flashlight and held it like a weapon as she advanced toward the writhing, cursing mass on the ground. She heard a voice in her ear at the same moment that Kevin laughed triumphantly. He had Sledge Aiken in a wrestling lock, held from behind and basically immobilized on the ground.