He rolled his eyes. Dana Chase was a damn good attorney, but she was not a socially adept texter.
Still, Jaime knew how much she had done to keep him from the police’s intrusive scrutiny. Not that he had anything to hide, he wasn’t the one who fucking gutted Vera right there in thehallway, but when weeks went by and they had no one else to point fingers at, they had become restless.
Then, six months into the investigation, a neighbor came forward with doorbell camera footage from that day showing a grainy man, later identified as Jackson Bishop, entering a first story window in the Monroe-Dugan house a few minutes before Jaime had arrived, corroborating his description of events.
And now he was on the hook to testify in Bishop’s murder trial. Assuming that was what Dana wanted to talk about, he called her.
She picked up on the second ring. “Jaime? Are you at home?”
Her voice held a note of alarm that made him sit up in bed, but he breathed through the spike in his heart rate. He’d come a long way in therapy—he could make it through one phone call without panicking. “Yes, I’m home. Why are you calling?”
There was a pause that lasted just long enough to tangle and snarl in his chest. “Jaime, someone leaked your identity to the press. It was all over the morning news cycle. They know you are the prosecution’s witness to the murder.”
What?
Jaime swung his legs off the bed and padded over to the window, pulling back the curtain. “Holy shit.”
A sea of media vans flanked his gravel drive and the road on either side of his house, and people were milling around everywhere. How in the world had he not heard all of those vehicles pull up?
Hastily, he dropped the curtain and put his back to the wall next to the window, like he’d been caught invading their privacy and not the other way around. “What the hell do I do?”
Satisfied that Jaime was alive and safe, Dana’s calm and unflappable tone returned. “I’ve got the District Attorney on the line, he’s going to explain the situation. Hold on.”
Jaime stood there in stunned silence, turning to peek outside when he heard a car door shut. Impossibly, it seemed like even more news reporters had appeared in the minute or so he’d been on the phone, and he watched as they all talked to a camera, holding giant microphones and gesturing to his house behind them as they spoke.
A low beep came through the phone, and a vaguely familiar voice joined Dana’s. “Jaime? It’s DA Rivera, and here with me on speakerphone is Detective Sutton, the lead investigator on this case. Are you well? Are you safe inside somewhere?”
He huffed out a breath. “Yes, I’m home. How could this happen? I thought everyone agreed that keeping my name out of the media until the trial was for the best.”
He tried not to sound accusatory, knowing the DA wouldn’t have done anything to jeopardize the case, but the list of people outside the police department who knew of Jaime’s involvement that night was very short. Two others, to be exact—his lawyer, and his brother. Even though his relationship with Sam wasn’t what it used to be, he knew Sam would never risk his safety by running his mouth, and Dana wouldn’t risk her job or bar status.
DA Rivera gave a heavy sigh, like he’d been asking himself that same question all morning. “That was the plan, yes. I’m sorry, Jaime. I don’t know who the leak is, but we’ve narrowed it down to one unit in Monroe PD. We’re running an internal investigation to see if we can root out who talked to the media, but right now our focus needs to be on keeping you safe.”
“The media is already swarming his house, Gabriel, it’s a little late for mitigation,” Dana said in that no-nonsense tone that she always used when speaking to law enforcement on his behalf. It was belied by the use of the prosecutor’s first name, though, so they must be on decent terms with each other.
“The media is an annoyance, yes. And will be an even larger headache once we start jury selection, given that this brings thecase right back into the public eye just a few weeks out from trial, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. They aren’t my main concern right now.”
Jaime’s stomach flipped, and he started to pace around his room, keeping away from the window even with the curtains drawn.
“You know something about that phone call, don’t you?” Dana accused. She was referencing the call Jaime had overheard the murderer make after he came to, tied up in Vera’s closet.
They had called to report to someone that Vera was dead, but that Jaime was an unexpected visitor, and asked whoever was on the line what to do with him. Apparently, they’d been instructed to leave him alive, because they didn’t come back to check on Jaime—they’d just left.
“You know I can’t tell you that, Dana.” DA Rivera sounded genuinely sorry. “What I can say is we received a tip regarding the murder of Vera Novikova-Dugan that Detective Sutton and her colleague Detective Jones are investigating. We are still confident in prosecuting Jackson Bishop for first-degree murder, but there are open lines of investigation in regards to this crime. We aren’t ruling anything or anyone out.”
Detective Jones was the asshole detective who had started interrogating Jaime the minute the medics had finished stitching up the wound on his temple. He sat down on his bed with a heavy sigh, and ran his fingers through his unwashed hair.
When was the last time I showered?
Out loud, Jaime asked, “And you think whoever this is will come after me now that they know who I am?” Another pregnant pause, and he couldn’t stop his breathing from accelerating this time.
“Yes.” That voice belonged to Detective Sutton. She had been more reserved at first, but she’d spoken to Jaime like hewas someone who’d just survived something horrific, whereas Detective Jones had been belligerent. At first, Jaime had thought they were doing their own good-cop-bad-cop bit, but after a few weeks, he thought Detective Sutton’s quiet observation and subtle kindness were genuine.
“If you know who this is then put a tail on them. Make sure they don’t come near my client before you get enough for an arrest warrant,” Dana snapped.
“We’ve hit some roadblocks with the arrest warrant, but we are working around them. It may take some time, though, and we don’t want to take any chances with Jaime’s safety in the meantime.”
“Well what do you suggest, then? He’s already essentially housebound, never mind the media circus currently camped in his yard. What else do you expect him to do?”
