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“Ms. Vance?” Franklin asked.
“No. Not at this time. Not without consent of the…acquaintance.”
“Sounds like this interview is at an end. Book my client or we walk out. The club will not hold my court reservation.” Franklin began gathering papers, preparing to leave. I followed suit.
Derek shoved away from the wall and held out a hand to shake with the detective. It had been obvious they knew each other. As they shook, I wondered if it was a military connection. Alvarez had that look about him.
“Ms. Vance, don’t plan any trips out of town. We’ll be in touch.” The detective stood and opened the door to show us all out.
The three of us didn’t need to be told twice. Derek put a hand on the small of my back, and Franklin led the way out of the station.
“A moment with my client, please.” Franklin, all five foot six of him, stared down Derek as soon as we were in the parking lot.
“Did you kill De Wispelaere?” Franklin asked when Derek was well out of earshot.
“No.”
“Good. Think Jimmy ordered it?” Franklin’s thoughts mirrored mine.
“I have no way of knowing. Tony sent me there to pick up the consignment items. Gave me the key. I doubt they’d kill De Wispelaere until the merchandise was accounted for. But I’m not sure.” I didn’t have to explain to Franklin that the consignment items were stolen. He knew my role in the organization. But as an officer of the court, he didn’t want details.
“Fuck. Vance, murder isn’t something I enjoy seeing you caught up in. You told me you were trying to get out.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.” Franklin squeezed my upper arm in sympathy. His intelligent eyes shone with genuine feeling—or as much as a lawyer for the mob could muster. “I’d hate to see a gorgeous woman like you in an orange jumpsuit.”
I chuckled, despite the grim thought. “Orange has never been my color.”
“And what about the private security guy?”
“That’s Derek. He’s at The Smith Agency.”
Franklin whistled long and low. “Impressive. They’ve got a reputation, and you’re not their typical client.”
“I’m not a client. He’s an old friend of my mom’s.”
“If you say so…” Skepticism was written across his face.
“What?” I shouldn’t have told Franklin anything about Derek. Shit.
“Please, that man has a claim on you. His eyes never left your face. He was ready to scoop you up and run for the hills to keep you safe.”
“Florida doesn’t have hills.” I tried to blow off Franklin’s comment. But it was true. And now more than ever, I needed to stay far away from Derek to protect him from my life.
Franklin raised an eyebrow at my flip answer. “Remember, no matter how big his dick is, he isn’t bound by privilege. So, no pillow talk.”
I nodded and didn’t argue. Shit. I thought about grabbing Franklin’s arm and begging him not to tell Uncle Jimmy about Derek. But that would paint an even bigger target on Derek’s back than if I said nothing.
“Let’s never do this again,” I said.
“Deal.” Franklin gave me a hug and held me close for a beat longer than I would have expected. I hoped that kernel of affection was enough to keep him from telling Jimmy anything about Derek.
“I called you a car. My driver will be here in five minutes.” He glanced at his Rolex. One I’d sold him about two years ago.
“Thank you. I hadn’t even thought about getting home.” And now I was worried about Onyx, retrieving my car, and not having a key to my front door. Along with a million other petty details.
“That’s what I’m here for, to help my clients. Keep that in mind when you get my bill.”
