Big Easy Temptation (The Perfect Gentlemen #3)(48)



“Yes, but he was still just a man. And at some point I’m sure ending his life seemed like an act of mercy to spare them what would have been a horrible trial that would have kept the sordid affair all over the media. The Spencer family would have been dragged through the spotlight at the exact moment President Hayes was appointing his cabinet. His friendship with Dax would have come under some nasty scrutiny. Hell, if anyone had a reason to kill the admiral, it wasn’t the Russians. It was the White House.”

She stood abruptly. “He would never. I know Zack.”

“Sometimes the president doesn’t call all the shots. And I’m speculating. I don’t believe for a second that the admiral did anything except honorably fall on his sword. He spared his family and the Navy an enormous amount of pain.”

Holland absorbed another shock for the day. “You think he did the right thing?”

“I saw those terrible pictures, honey, so I know he did.”

“What the hell do I do now? Dax won’t give up. I can try to talk to him, but I don’t think I’ll be able to persuade him to stop. I think I have to at least prove that his father was set up.”

Her uncle hesitated, then let loose a reluctant sigh. “I’m going to give you a file. It’s my personal investigation. The pictures will be inside. If you want to stop Dax, show him these images. Otherwise, you’re trying to take on something you have zero jurisdiction over.”

“But there’s something sinister and wrong here. Why haven’t you continued looking for the truth?”

“Because I like breathing. And the Russian mob is something bigger than local law enforcement. If the FBI wants to investigate, I’ll help them out, but I’m not putting any of my men in the line of fire when it isn’t their responsibility and it would only ruffle feathers. We have other crimes to fight and solve every single day.”

Uncle Beau lacked the funds and manpower to fight every battle. It was a sad truth of law enforcement. Like doctors, police officers were often forced to triage a situation rather than fix it.

She waited quietly while her uncle unlocked his file cabinet and retrieved the pictures that would prove Dax’s father’s guilt.





EIGHT




Dax opened the door to Holland’s place with a sigh, thankful the long day was over. All he wanted was to eat a little something before he crawled into bed with her—and not necessarily in that order. Food could really wait. He needed her love and affection.

What a freaking day.

He set the pizza down on the counter. “Sweetheart? You home?”

For a moment he thought he was alone. He was about to pick up his phone and give her a call when he saw her hair blowing out on the balcony. He watched her for a moment, her slender form graceful, before he joined her. Dusk had nearly arrived and her shadow moved along the window, past the little bistro table and chairs, as if she’d begun pacing.

He opened the door and immediately found himself with an armful of Holland. She threw herself against his chest, wrapping that body around him. “Hey, if I’d known I was going to get this kind of welcome, I would have snuck out of work and found you hours ago.”

She turned her face up. “It was a long day. That prison is depressing.”

He studied her and smoothed her hair back. “I’m sorry about that, sweetheart. I wish I could have been with you. Did you learn anything new?”

“I found out that Sue Carlyle is a raging drug addict with serious mental problems. All that getting high affected her memory. She can’t tell us anything. It was another dead end. I’m so sorry.”

Clearly, Holland was upset about that. He hugged her tight. “It’s not your fault. This investigation was cold. We knew it would be hard.”

She squeezed him back. After the day he’d had, he winced.

“Are you all right?” She eased away, staring up at him with concerned blue eyes.

“It’s nothing,” he assured her. “I just damn near got mowed down near Jackson Square today. I’m fairly certain that drunk asshole started hitting the bottle way too early.”

Holland gasped. “What happened? Tell me.”

He kissed her forehead, doing his best to soothe her. “Just some of the usual rowdiness in the city.”

She took a step back, looking him over. Her stare immediately fell to the nasty spot on his arm where he’d crashed to the concrete in order to avoid the oncoming SUV. Luckily, he moved fast or he would have been in serious trouble. He’d had a few nasty words for that inebriated prick who naturally hadn’t stopped so he could say them.

“Tell me everything.” Her eyes had flared wide with fear, tears shimmering. She ran her hands over him as though trying to seek out the damage and heal it with her touch.

Dax sighed because worrying her wasn’t how he wanted to spend his evening, but maybe the whole story would set her at ease. She looked genuinely upset. “Yeah, the fucker never even put his foot on the brakes. I don’t know if he even realized what he’d almost done. Idiot. You want to explain to me why there are never any cops around when I need one, but at least three ready to write me a ticket when I go five miles over the speed limit?”

“Did you get the plate?” Her voice trembled.

He frowned. “No. I was trying to scrape myself off the concrete. I guess I should have asked if anyone else had, but I doubt it. Everything happened so fast.” The people around him had been concerned with helping him up and making sure he was all right. No one had offered him information about the car or driver.

Shayla Black, Lexi B's Books