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“There’s no animosity between you?”
“Sure, he pisses me off all the time. Then he does something nice and makes it hard to be mad at him.”
“And what’s his relationship to Mallory?”
“Why?” I growl.
He stabs his pencil in the air. “That right there is a problem.” He leans in closer. “They’re going to try and paint this as a love triangle that got out of hand.”
“That’s pure bullshit. She’s friends with his girlfriend. They work together. The four of us hang out back in L.A. sometimes.”
“Girlfriend.” He taps his pencil against the table. “Name?”
“Pamela Scott.”
He scribbles down her name without a twitch of recognition. Guess he’s not a Playboy fan. I sit back and assess my attorney. My father chose well for being an emergency-over-the-phone situation. Guy seems serious and sharp. Two things I’ll need if there’s any hope of extracting myself from this mess.
MALLORY
Waiting around the police station while the lawyer talks to Chaser is torture.
“Miss, I’m sorry. Only his attorney’s allowed to see him right now.” The officer glances over his shoulder quickly and in a lower voice adds, “Paxton’s a good lawyer. He’ll have Chaser out by this evening.”
“I hope so.” My gaze strays behind the counter. Chaser has to be somewhere on the other side of that sad, gray cinder block wall. Pain gathers in my chest. I can’t get to him.
I drift over to an empty wooden bench and sit, watching the door for the lawyer. The second he returns, I jump up to greet him.
“How is he? When can we get him out?”
“Easy. Not here.” He takes my elbow and guides me outside. Heat simmers through my thin canvas sneakers, snaking up my legs. We cross the busy street and into a small, municipal parking lot before he’ll utter a word. “The cops have nothing. No weapon. No clear motive.”
I let out a long, slow breath. Not that I ever doubted Chaser. “What can I do?”
“He wants you to go back to the hotel.”
“And do what? Sit on my butt while he’s in jail? No.”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “I figured that would be your answer.”
“What can I do?”
“I know you said Peter’s a weasel, but can you talk to him? Flesh out why he might have pointed the cops in Chaser’s direction.”
“He’s not a big fan of mine, but I’ll do my best.” I glance over my shoulder toward the police station. “I was planning to go to the hospital next.”
He hesitates before answering. “Mallory, I need you to be honest with me. Is there anything between you and Andrew Lane?”
“God, no. Why would you ask that?”
“Because if this continues, the cops need a motive. And a love triangle between you, Chaser, and Andrew will sound nice and juicy.”
“That’s ridiculous. Chaser spends more time around Andrew than I ever have. Working,” I add just in case he has other ideas. “Andrew’s girlfriend and I work together on the same show.”
“Chaser mentioned that. The four of you are good friends?”
“Sort of. Pamela can be prickly.”
“Is there a reason for that? Is there a possibility she and Chaser…?” He lets the suggestion hang in the air, staring at me with two raised eyebrows.
It takes me a second longer than it should to understand his meaning. “No way.”
He holds my gaze.
“I understand why you have to ask, but Chaser and I…we’re close. We don’t lie to each other.” I take a moment and consider the way to phrase my next thought. “And Pamela, if she was having an affair with my boyfriend, I don’t think she’d be able to stop herself from bragging to all of Hollywood.”
He chuckles. “So, she’s that kind of person.”
“Competitive. I don’t know why, since she’s way more ahead of the game than I am.”
“Is there a reason for that?” He holds up his hand. “I believe you when you say there’s nothing going on between you and Andrew. But is it possible she’s aware of feelings Andrew has for you?”
Feelings for me? I stop and consider Andrew’s wacky behavior. His strange compliments and random moments of sweetness. His pervy questions. “Deep, specific feelings for me? No. That I’m a female he’d like to bang and add to his list? Possibly.”
“And that doesn’t bother Chaser?”
“He trusts me.” I stop and stare over his shoulder at the brick wall with faded lettering that I can’t decipher. “We haven’t been together long. But we’ve been through a lot in that short time.”
His sharp lawyer demeanor softens. “I can sense that, Mallory. Chaser’s lucky.” He glances over at his car. “Do you need a ride?”
“If you don’t mind dropping me off at the hospital?”
“Not at all.” He opens the passenger side door, then hesitates. “Be careful who sees you there, though. We don’t want word to spread that you’re sitting vigil at Andrew’s bedside.”
“Trust me, that’s the last thing I plan to do.” No, I want to find Jacob and choke him. Then whap Peter upside the head with my purse a couple dozen times.
“It’ll help to have you there, so you can call me if Andrew wakes up. If he can make a statement, exonerating Chaser, I’ll move on that. If not, then we’ll need to regroup.”
There’s no “if not” in my head. Andrew better wake up and clear Chaser, or I’ll kill him myself.
Chapter Two
Mallory
Determination and anger fuel me as I walk into the hospital. On the way over, Mr. Paxton gave me some general ideas of questions to ask Peter and Jacob if I see them. Having a task to do doesn’t make me want to strangle those two jackasses any less.
As I pass what looks like a waiting room, I recognize one of the people slumped over in a chair. My steps falter and I back up.
“Jacob, what’s going on?” I ask, treading closer. His rumpled, dirty clothes and skin suggest he’s been run over by a garbage truck.
“Mallory?” He glances up and blinks at me.
“What the hell happened?” I lower my voice to a harsh whisper. “Chaser’s in jail. What are you doing here?” I don’t bother mentioning that the cops want to question him. I can’t afford to have Jacob bolt.
“Waiting for Andrew to wake the fuck up so he can tell the cops Chaser didn’t do it.”
His answer deflates a fraction of my anger. For once Jacob’s trying to be helpful.
He searches the nearly empty waiting room like he can’t believe he’s still sitting there. “Where are the other guys?”
“I don’t know. I just met with Chaser’s lawyer.”
“Shit.” He drops his gaze and shakes his head. “You had to get him a lawyer?”
“He’s in jail, Jacob,” I remind him. “I called his father and he found him a lawyer.”
“Aw fuck.” He rakes his fingers through his already messy hair. “Chaser’s going to kill me.”
My boyfriend might have to get in line. I’m feeling murderous myself at the moment. “Jacob, what happened?” I ask in my most patient voice.
“It’s all my fault.”
You don’t say.
“She shouldn’t be here!” Peter yells from behind me.
“What the fuck, man?” Jacob snarls, jumping out of his chair.
“Her boyfriend’s accused of shooting Andrew.” Peter backs down under Jacob’s raging bull face. “She shouldn’t be here.”
“Fuck off. You work for us, dickwad.”
“You’re the one who accused Chaser,” I point out, calmly.
“You did what?” Alvin asks, stepping into the waiting room. His arm brushes against mine, filling me with relief that someone I trust is here. “Why would you do that?”
Peter backs up a few steps and shrugs. “Chaser pointed a gun at him. Andrew got shot. Two and two.” He looks a little less sure of his theory. “Equals four. You know?”
“You fucking moron!” Alvin plants his hands against Peter’s chest and shoves him hard enough to slam into a row of chairs on the opposite wall.
“Don’t,” I warn, pressing a palm against Alvin’s shoulder. “We don’t need you in trouble too.”
I reach out and grab Jacob’s arm as he attempts to go around us to get to Peter. “You too.”
Jacob hangs his head. “I deserve to get in trouble.”
