Holden cleared his throat. “Actually, I finally got ahold of some of that information you asked me for about one Aja Everett.”
Jackson’s gut tightened. “What did you find?”
“Nothing on her specifically. She has no priors. According to her record, she’s been a stand-up citizen. Worked her way through school, climbed her way up the legal ladder at her firm, busted her ass getting celebrities and one-percenters off the legal hook for a lot of years.”
All of that jibed with what he’d discovered about Aja through his own investigation and through the close nature of their relationship. “So what’s the issue?”
“There’s a client she had. A Drucilla Everett. According to her death certificate, she and Aja were sisters.”
“Death certificate? How’d she die?”
“Official cause of death is blunt-force trauma to the head. I have a few contacts at Brooklyn holding. Apparently there was some kind of dustup between Drucilla and another detainee that led to Drucilla getting her head smashed against a wall.”
“Damn.”
“I know, but after reading her rap sheet, her manner of death isn’t surprising. Unlike Aja, Drucilla never seemed to meet trouble she didn’t want to get into. She’d been in and out of court, went to juvie for a few months when she was sixteen. She also did a four-year bid in Rikers as an adult. From the time she was released, any legal trouble she got into, Aja got her out of. It wouldn’t be surprising if some of her sister’s trouble found a way of messing with Aja’s life. If you’re still working the case, maybe that might be a new angle to look at.”
“Maybe. Thanks for the info. I owe you a beer the next time you’re in town.”
“I will certainly hold you to that.”
Jackson ended the call, processing all the things Holden had shared with him. He’d shared the darkest parts of his life with her. Why hadn’t she told him about her sister? Wasn’t that what people who were intimate with each other were supposed to do?
“What are you hiding, Aja?”
Chapter 40
Aja watched in delight as Shadow took the offered apple she held up to him. “You’re such a happy boy, aren’t you?” She rubbed his shiny black mane and laughed when he used his head to butt her hand again. “You want another one?” She grabbed another apple and held it in front of him. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“Any man that grabs your favor is a fortunate man.”
She turned to see Jackson walking toward her. “You searching for treats too? Don’t worry. I might just have a pineapple coconut cake waiting for you in the fridge.”
The smile on his face drooped slightly, and concern tingled somewhere in the back of her mind. “What, you don’t like my pineapple coconut cake all of a sudden? Everything okay?”
“I don’t really know how to say things any other way than direct. I’d love a slice of your cake, but I don’t know if you’ll still want to share it with me once you hear what I have to say. Are we alone?”
She placed her hands on her waist and straightened her shoulders, preparing for whatever blow he would land. “Colton and Storm went up to the main house. Speak your piece.”
He spread his arms wide. “Tell me about Drucilla.”
The floor of her stomach plummeted, making her want to reach for a nearby wood panel to keep herself upright. But she couldn’t. To react that way would show weakness, and if Jackson smelled blood in the water, he wouldn’t relent until he knew all her secrets.
“Where did you hear that name?”
“Not from you,” he answered softly.
She let out a heavy sigh. “I hope you’re not suggesting that because we’re sleeping together I owe you passage into my past? Because if that’s what you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”
He shook his head, keeping his features even and mellow. “I don’t think you owe me anything. I’d simply hoped that after everything that’s happened, you knew you could trust me.”
“Trust you? You call rummaging around in my past an example of trust?”
He held up his hands. “I didn’t rummage into your life. After you were attacked, I was desperate to put your assailant behind bars. So I reached out to a friend of mine in the FBI who’s a field agent in New York. I thought perhaps there was a disgruntled client in your past who might have been responsible for the attack and the vandalism.”
She chuckled. It was a low, heavy sound that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with her rising anger. “I don’t have any disgruntled clients. I kept rich people out of jail for a long time. My clients loved me, and I’ve got so much dirt on them, they’d never dare to cross me.”
“Yeah, but Drucilla wasn’t like your other clients, was she? She wasn’t a rich blue blood or shiny star.”
