He looked harried and rumpled despite the elegant navy suit he wore. Looming on the upper terrace, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets, he glared at her with those dark eyes, his expression equally dark.
Carson Tanner was primed and ready. It had certainly taken him long enough. But then, she’d known that about him. Tanner was a man who assessed a situation carefully before diving in—but once he was committed there was no stopping him.
“You stated”—he descended another step—“that Dwight Holderfield would be next.” One more step, then another until he had reached the lower terrace where she waited. “How did you know?”
Seemed Mr. Tanner was a bad sport. She should have expected as much. She took a moment, mainly to set him further on edge, and sized up the man. Several inches taller than her, nice wide shoulders. She’d seen his every asset, sleek, unmarred skin stretched tautly over a muscled frame, sculpted jaw, handsome face. He had it all. Looks, money, and a career on the verge of launching to the next level. Focused, determined, the perfect politician in the making.
But he didn’t have the one thing he’d longed for the better part of his life. The truth. No matter how successful his career proved, no matter how hard he worked, he needed the truth to feel complete. Sadly, the truth was only going to turn his vigilantly structured world upside down. Yet he wanted it with every fiber of his being.
Time to give him an answer. She met that livid gaze. “Because he came to me demanding the truth.”
“What truth?”
“The truth about his son.”
“Why would he suspect you possessed knowledge related to his son’s murder?”
Even as he asked the question his gaze slid down the length of her body and back up to tangle with hers. There was something more in his eyes then. Need. Hunger. She smiled. Even knowing, as he did, that she had set him up, worked diligently to distract him from his goal, hestill wanted her. Predictable. When she’d done her research on Carson Tanner, she had known his rigid control could be breached if she used the proper tactics. Always understand your opponent’s weaknesses as well as his strengths. The need for intimacy hovered just beneath that unstoppable facade he’d constructed. He hadn’t trusted anyone on a personal level in more than a decade, yet he wanted desperately to be touched ... to touch.
He’d lost his family, the girl he loved, his friends, everything in one fatal blow. Everything about who he was testified to his extreme need to fill that void.
“As I said.” She watched that desire escalate in his eyes, throb in the hard set of his jaw. “I know many things. It was clear to me after my meeting with Holderfield that he was a desperate man. Desperate people take desperate measures.”
With one stride, Tanner invaded her personal space. “All of this is just a game to you.” He glared at her, searched her face as if he expected to find something he’d hadn’t discovered before. “Right now, right here”—he hitched a thumb toward the historic home behind them—“you mingle with these people like you belong. Like the feds aren’t right outside watching every move you make. Like Lynch isn’t working diligently to prove you were somehow involved in Holderfield’s murder.” He shook his head. “Even in the face of those solid facts, you’re not afraid. You think you’re untouchable.”
“I’m sure you have a point,” she suggested, undaunted—at least on the surface.
He put his face very close to hers. “You’re good, lady.” He opened his arms wide as if stumped. “I can’t connect a single illegal activity to you. Neither can the feds. All we can do is watch and wait for that first misstep.” He lowered his arms to his sides and leaned menacingly close again. “It’ll happen. And I’ll be waiting, watching every move you make until then. I will get you.”
He was right. She knew this. But she also understood something he did not. Time was very short. Her fate had already been decided. How long, she wondered, before his was as well—if not already.
“I had nothing to do with Dwight Holderfield’s murder.” She refused to look away from the disgust in his eyes. Refused to let him see that the pressure was beginning to get to her. That he was beginning to get to her.
He reined in the fury as well as the disgust, donned that professional mask he wore so well. “The offer I made is still on the table. Give me Fleming and you’ll walk away with immunity.” He searched her face, obviously attempting to gauge her reaction. “But be forewarned, if murder charges are leveled against you, I won’t be able to help you then. It’s now or never.”
He was right. It was now or never.
“Since you appear to have no intentions of living up to your end of the bargain we made last night—”
“I never agreed to anything you offered,” he said, cutting her off cold. “You’ve heard my offer, take it or leave it.”
“How about I sweeten the deal?” She ignored the frustration that wrestled its way past his courtroom face. “Give you something extra. Something immensely personal.” Don’t let him see your desperation. “Hear me out, Tanner. You’ll be glad you did.”
He slowly, determinedly shook his head. “Twenty-four hours,” he stated flatly. “Make your decision within twenty-four hours or the offer is rescinded permanently.”
His insolence was becoming tedious. What was it going to take to get this man to listen? “You do want the truth, don’t you?” she argued. “Or is your idea of justice the goal, regardless of the truth?”
His hands went back into his pockets. “Good night, Ms. Baxter.” He turned to go.
Just do it!“Your idol Wainwright is playing you.”
He hesitated.
“He’s using you to get to me.” Her heart rammed mercilessly against her rib cage. “He’s using me to take the fall for what he’s done.”
Tanner turned around slowly. His gaze collided with hers, and a shiver washed over her. Fury didn’t begin to describe what she saw in his eyes.
“Donald Wainwright’s reputation is impeccable. There is nothing you could say to make me believe he has any agenda other than the one he outlined when he assigned me this case.”
