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Tears filled her eyes, but none fell, and she swallowed hard before giving a slight nod. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to thank me.” He lowered his head and gave her a quick kiss.
They separated, and he picked up the papers, quickly scanning them.
You’re wasting your time. Drop the case against Dennis Stratton.
You don’t have a case. Drop it. He’s innocent!
Drop Stratton’s case, Lady ADA. Or else you’ll be sorry!
“Now, do you see why I didn’t say anything to you? They don’t say much, and I didn’t really feel threatened. They aren’t much different than others I’ve received over the years.”
The words on the pages were typed out in large font and centered on an otherwise blank sheet of the copy paper. Laz was trying not to let the fear of someone threatening his wife show, but it was hard. As a former detective, he knew some threats were harmless, but he’d seen them escalate quickly. And as a husband, it scared him to death that someone could’ve done something to her, and he struggled to keep his anger at bay.
His concern for Journey’s well-being started long before they got together. It was a night he would never forget—the night she was mugged on the way home from work.
When Laz had pulled the man off Journey and started pounding the asshole, he could’ve easily killed him. She walked away with only bruises, but for months, Laz had always wondered—what if he hadn’t been there?
“Are these in the order of the way you received them?” he finally asked.
A frown wrinkled the skin between her eyebrows. “Yeah…I think so. Turn them over; the dates should be on the back of them. Why do you ask?”
“With each one, the threats are escalating.”
Journey leaned over him and looked at the papers. “Hmm…I hadn’t noticed. That might be why Prentice has hounded me more than once to tell you about this.”
“Yeah, this is one time I wished you would’ve listened to the asshole.”
Journey laughed and nudged Laz with her elbow. “Stop it. You two aren’t fooling anyone with your mock disdain for each other.”
She was right. Prentice was all right with him. He was once a good policeman, and Laz had a lot of respect for the guy. He just didn’t like the fact that Prentice got to spend more time with her than he did.
“Until further notice, you don’t go anywhere without one of the guys or me. Got that?”
Journey slid her arms around his waist and stared up at him. “I love how protective you are, but can I at least go to the bathroom by myself?” she cracked.
Laz knew she was trying to lighten the mood, and it was damn hard not to relax a little when she was so close and smelled so good. “No. They go where you go,” he said seriously.
She laughed and reached up to kiss his lips. “That’s where I draw the line, but don’t worry. I’ll continue to move around town with my shadows. But Laz, I think you might be overreacting.”
He shook his head. “Not after someone tried to gun our daughter and me down.”
Journey’s head snapped up, and her mouth dropped open. “You don’t think—”
“Sweetheart, I don’t know what to think because I didn’t know anything about this,” he held up the papers. “But you know me. I don’t believe in coincidences.
“Oh, my God. It never crossed my mind that this could be connected to what happened to you, but….” Her words trailed off when her desk phone rang. “I need to get that. The jury might’ve reached a verdict.”
Laz moved away from her desk and released a long breath as she answered the phone. This shit just got real. It was bad enough to come after him, but his wife?
Laz shook his head. He wasn’t sure if the two situations were connected, but….
“Who is this?” Journey asked, her voice shaking. “Why do you want the case dropped?”
Laz turned. She was standing behind her desk, gripping the phone tightly with one hand, and her other hand rested on her chest.
Her gaze shot to him, and his heart leaped into his throat at the terror he saw in her eyes. Her face drained of color before she dropped into her seat.
