Growl (5 page)

“Did you tell them they fucked up?”

“I tried, but…” Again with the helpless shrug.

The urge to leap over the table, gather her in his arms and hug her took him by surprise. Gavin wasn't a cuddle type of guy. Nor was he usually overcome by an urge to protect, but seeing Megan brought so low created all kinds of new emotions within him. He also wanted to growl. Loudly. He told his inner wolf to chew on a bone in the corner of his mind. He'd take care of this.

“Lucky for you, I was at your apartment bright and early and heard about this mockery. I've already had the bail reinstated. Now it's just a matter of waiting for the paperwork to go through. We should have you out of here mid- to late afternoon.”

“Really?” For the first time since he entered the room, she perked up.

“Of course really. You didn't honestly think I'd let you rot in here, did you? Like hell. Have some faith, little rabbit. I am good at what I do, and when it comes to my clients”—and especially this woman—“no one fucks with them.”
Or me.

“Thank you.”

“While we're waiting for them to get their heads out of their asses and release you, I'd like to talk a bit more about your boss. It was brought to my attention that he was dealing with some financial difficulties. Can you elaborate?”

Her nose wrinkled. “Money problems? Not that I knew of, but then again, I wasn't in charge of his books. I can say he always paid me on time and he didn't skimp when it came to spending, especially when he wanted to impress someone.”

“Notice anyone coming to his office recently that left your boss agitated, maybe worried?”

“Lots of people. Mr. Jonquin ranted often. Heck, he even went on a tirade when his wife came around.”

“Not a happy couple?”

“Oh, he worshiped the ground she walked on. I don't know how many times I ordered flowers for her or had to score some tickets to some event he thought she might enjoy.”

“So why would he get upset when she visited?”

“Because she accused him of cheating.”

“Was he?”

“Honestly, I don't know, but if you want my opinion, I'd say no. Like I said, he worshiped her. It drove him nuts that she thought he didn't love her. Hence the gifts.”

“Did she ever come out and accuse you of sleeping with him?”

“Only once, when I first came to work for him. He was late coming back from a lunch meeting, and she told me if I ever set my sights on him, I'd pay.”

“Sounds rather confrontational. I'm surprised you didn't quit.”

“It was rude, but I needed the job, so I told her quite frankly that I wasn't into old, balding, short guys and that I'd probably buy a vibrator before I'd let him touch me.”

He couldn't help but chuckle. “How did she react?”

A smirk curled Megan's lips. “After she got over the initial mouth-gaping shock that I'd compared her husband to a troll, she told me that I'd better not ever change my mind and stalked off. After that, she never really paid me any mind.”

“Who posted your bail?”

“I don't know.”

“Come on, little rabbit. Half a million dollars. Someone who obviously likes you must have posted it. Who do you know with that kind of dough?”

A shrug lifted her shoulders. “I don't know. I barely have enough to buy groceries for the week. My family lives out on the West Coast and doesn't know about my situation yet. I was never more surprised than when they told me that I was going free.”

A freedom that nagged him. Initially he'd wondered if whoever she claimed framed her for the murder was the person who posted the bail. By having her on the loose it wouldn't prove hard to have their scapegoat suffer a fatal accident, resulting in an open-and-shut case.

Then someone had falsely accused her of fleeing and made sure she got her delectable ass thrown back into jail. Someone who obviously didn't know about him yet. But would now.

Him versus an as-yet-faceless threat to his woman. Too bad for them, they'd picked the wrong rabbit. The chase was on.

 

CHAPTER 6

Tired and feeling kind of grubby, Megan couldn't wait to get home, strip, and take a long, hot shower. When the police showed up in the middle of the night—which truly was a cruelty given even the birds weren't awake yet—and dragged her away, they'd not given her time to bathe or dress properly. Why bother when they had her exchange her pajamas at the station for a lovely orange jumpsuit? Apparently, they'd expected her to stay awhile.

She'd thought herself a tad bit screwed, too, until Gavin arrived with some good news. It appeared as if her new lawyer might prove himself useful after all. He'd manage to spring her with the most simple of logic, the truth.

It seemed someone wanted Megan's butt in jail. Question was, why? Wasn't it enough she stood accused of murder? Did they have to compound the insult by taking away her freedom to find justice?

As she bounced from one foot to another—clad in some truly comfortable purple fleece-lined Crocs—she almost wished she'd ask to keep the orange suit rather than trade back into her oh-so-sexy puppy dog pajamas. Her jammies, made of cotton, had shrunk in the dryer so the top didn't quite end at her waistband and the pants hugged her a touch more than she considered proper. Best part of all, though? No bra.

When she emerged from the station, she crossed her arms over her chest, very conscious of the fact that her tight, almost crop top clung to her breasts and outlined a certain part of her anatomy currently reacting to the chillier temperature.

A familiar sleek car purred at the curb. The passenger door popped open, and she saw Gavin leaning across the vehicle, arm still outstretched.

His keen gaze took her in, and a corner of his lip curled. “Cute outfit.”

Her cheeks burned.
Not again.
What was it about this guy that made her so self-conscious? “They didn't give me a chance to change when they came for me. And I see someone didn't think to bring me spare clothes.”

“You won't have to wear them for long.”

At his words, her jaw might have dropped open. “Excuse me?”

He laughed. “I like the way your mind works, but in this case, it's wrong. I meant, you won't have them on for long because I'm taking you home.”

Surely she wasn't disappointed? Nothing like feeding another hunger to distract herself. “Can we do a pit stop on the way? I'd rather we got some food first. I am freaking starving, and I know what's in my fridge.” Nothing humanly edible.

Rich laughter filled the car, the intimate space wrapping the baritone sound around her warmer than any blanket. “You're not exactly dressed for a fine dining establishment.”

“Who said anything about ‘fine'? Can't we just hit a drive-thru and grab something ridiculously greasy and bad for me?”

“Bad.” He practically growled the word. “I like it when you say that.”

“You are such a dog.”

“Wolf.”

Yes, a wolf, a predator, one seeking to destroy her promise of remaining aloof. Getting involved with Gavin spelled danger. She needed him to defend her, which meant she had to keep a professional distance. A pity he seemed hell bent on doing the opposite.

“Why is it men only have one thing on their minds?”

“One? You wound me. I am a man capable of many thoughts at once. I have several right now as a matter of fact.”

“Are any of them not about sex?”

To her amusement, which she tried her best to hide, he pretended to think about it before lavishing her with a sensual grin that should come with a warning. “No, they're all about you and something utterly decadent. When you're around, my mind seems to have only one track.”

“Well, you need to get off that track to nowhere and get your mind back in the game. Because one, I really, really need some food, or we're going to have an issue.” Make that a major meltdown that just might result in her nibbling on flesh because, dammit, now he had her thinking of sex, too. “And two, am I the only one noticing the fact that there's a blue Toyota Corolla that's been following us since we left the station?”

Gavin spared only a cursory glance to his rearview mirror. “Possibly a coincidence.”

“Really? Then humor me. Turn left. Now!” she shouted at him, and to her surprise, he complied, spinning the wheel and angling his car in a sharper-than-ninety-degree turn. His sports car handled it with ease, not so the Corolla. Having half-turned in her seat, Megan peeked out the back window and frowned as she saw the other car's driver had slammed on its brakes. Too late. The vehicle shot past the intersection and almost got rear ended.

“Well, that was interesting,” she murmured, turning back around.

“Very. I wondered if someone would try something once they heard you got sprung,” he mused aloud. “I just didn't expect it so soon. My bad. Good eyes by the way.”

“You mean you expected someone to follow us? And you didn't say anything?”

“It was just a theory, one I didn't want to worry you with.”

“Well now I'm worried.”

“Don't be. I'll make sure you're kept safe.”

Exactly how her lawyer thought he could protect her from someone who might wish her ill intent she couldn't figure out. But the way he promised it … Sigh. While unnecessary, it was totally sexy.

“Keep me safe from who? And why? You still haven't answered me.”

“Given the blatant attempt to get you off the street by having your bail revoked, I hypothesized that if you were indeed framed—”

“I told you I was,” she grumbled.

“—then whoever is screwing with you might escalate things. The best way for them to have an open-and-shut case on your old boss's murder is to have you unable to talk. Getting you tossed in jail proved troubling. I'll admit I was glad to see you unharmed. I kind of worried something unfortunate would happen to you in jail.”

Hmm, like the drunken broad thrown in with her who turned out to not be so drunk once the cops left the holding block? A good thing Megan knew a thing or two about defending herself. When the cop returned, he looked from her sitting primly on the bench to the drunk snoring on the floor and simply raised a brow. Megan didn't feel a need to let him know that, when the hussy came at her, she knocked her out cold.
Thank you, Cousin Harry, for teaching me that left hook.

“Well, I'm fine. Even better, we seem to have lost our friend in the blue car, and look, there's a Burger King up ahead.”

As she practically inhaled a Whopper made of decadent goodness and hummed a happy sound while munching fries, she noted Gavin executing a lot more turns and taking a lot more time than needed to get to her condo complex. His eyes constantly flitted between his mirrors, and he didn't talk as much, intent on the happenings around them.

They made it to her apartment without mishap, where he parked a block down, his previous luck having not held. At least she wasn't completely uncovered, though, as he donated his coat a moment after handing her from the car. She wrapped herself in it, glad of the cover, not just from the cooler twilight air but also from the stares of the curious.

How she must look with her hair sticking out from a messy ponytail, wearing her bright slippers, escorted by a clean-shaven, towering hunk in a suit. With a freaking tie.

The ridiculous thing made her want to grab it and yank him down so she could plant a kiss on those tempting lips.

Bad. Very bad. And to think she'd accused him of having the dirty mind. It seemed she wasn't innocent when it came to letting her mind play in the gutter.

As before, he insisted on accompanying her right to her door. Once again, the elevator felt much too small for the two of them, especially when he planted himself before her and tilted her chin.

“Feeling okay? You seem rather subdued.”

“While I appreciate what you've done so far, I have to admit that a part of me is a little tired at whatever game is being played at my expense.” Tired and annoyed.

“We'll find whoever is doing this. Because once we find them, we'll find the true murderer.”

“And you'll get the charges dismissed.”

“Yes, which will then mean you're no longer my client.”

“And back his mind goes into the gutter,” she said with a laugh as she exited through the elevator doors when they slid open to her floor.

Striding up the hall, she smiled, a part of her flattered at his insistence on courting her. How long since a man had shown such ardent interest? Actually, she didn't think any man had seemed so intent to convince her to bed him as Gavin. Most suitors tended to last only a short time, especially once they met her family. And Daddy wondered why she'd fled to the East Coast.

At her apartment door, she stopped, chagrined to realize her keys were inside, sitting in the purse the police wouldn't let her bring.

“Shoot. I don't have a way of getting in,” she grumbled. “I'll have to find the superintendent.”

“Allow me. Wait here.”

Given her fatigue and outfit, she didn't argue and enjoyed the rear view of Gavin as he strode back to the elevators.

Since she didn't know how long he'd be, she let herself slump until she sat on the floor. Instead of focusing on her sexy lawyer—who came to her rescue—she tried to use her brain to figure out who the hell had it out for her.

She'd not lived in this town long enough to make any enemies. As a matter of fact, no one knew she'd moved here. Not even the friends she'd left behind as she made her fresh start. As for her family, they just called her cell phone when they wanted to talk. This place wasn't a permanent thing for Megan. Just a temporary job she'd taken on her path to better things.

A job she now regretted.

Someone framed me for Pierre's murder. Someone who wanted him dead.
Who stood to benefit the most? According to most crime shows, the spouse was the first suspect. With the evidence against Megan, no one bothered to look at the widow. But Megan had to wonder. Much younger than her husband and volatile, Vivienne certainly had a temper that could lead to murder. But a crime of passion wouldn't have involved the meticulous planning that led to Megan getting accused.