Risking Trust (24 page)

“I won’t argue. I thought it would be better if I left you alone.”

“You were wrong.”

Michael huffed. “I was wrong about a lot of things. My intention was to get my shit together and come back. Eventually, they arrested one of the other guys on an unrelated charge. He wound up flipping on a bunch of people and one of them was involved in the robbery with Jerry. That at least gave me satisfaction. I came home to prove to your father I was worthy of his daughter, but it was too late. You were already in Philadelphia.”

No, she wasn’t going for that. She shook her head. “I’d have come home. You never bothered to ask, or to even call.”

“I
did
call!”

The niggling feeling that had been with her for so long coiled around her spine. Instinctively she knew, but wanted to hear him say it.

“When did you call me?”

“I tracked you down, got your number and called after work one night. The guy that answered said you didn’t want to talk to me. I tried a couple more times, but you never answered and I gave up. I thought you were ignoring me because you were over it. How was I supposed to know whether your dad had told you about the robbery or not?”

She thought back on a phone call she’d always wondered about. The one that would have obliterated the agony. “I’d heard the phone. Joel told me it was a wrong number, but he had acted strange. We’d been dating a few months and he cared for me. That doesn’t excuse what he did, but he knew about you and was probably afraid I’d go back to Chicago.”

Michael waited and she sensed the question he wanted to ask. It was the same thing she had wondered about Alicia.

“Did you love him?”

“No. He wanted more than I could give. I broke it off and came home. By then, you were with Alicia. I hated you for coming back and being happy with someone when I was still so torn up.”

“When you didn’t call me back, I thought we were over. That was the only reason I got serious with Alicia. I thought you had moved on.”

That
didn’t make her feel better. “I deserved an explanation. I loved you.”

He moved in front of her. “You thought your father walked on water. I didn’t know how you’d handle him not being in your life and that’s what would have happened. I still believe it. Yes, Roxi, I should have just let him talk, but he pissed me off and I gave him what he wanted. I left.”

Roxi
. For the first time in all these years, he called her Roxi and it should have been a sixteen-inch knife going through her. She’d dreamed of hearing it and now it seemed so pitiful and sad.

He stroked his fingers down the side of her neck, let them rest on her shoulder. “I was too dumb and scared to know he had manipulated me. By my whacked out way of thinking, if you had to hate me, it would be because I was an asshole rather than a criminal.”

“I didn’t hate you. I was confused and hurt.”

“I’m sorry. You’ll never know how much. I’ve carried that article in my wallet all these years. I worked my ass off to prove I was a better man than what your father thought of me. Every time exhaustion set in, I pulled the article out and got pissed all over again. When I jumped him on the list of Chicago’s wealthiest, well, that was a fucking party. A one-man party. I got so drunk I couldn’t see. The real ball breaker was that it didn’t matter. I wanted to show him, and when I finally got there, I was still miserable. I may have been successful, but my wife was a stranger and my marriage was wrecked.” He stopped, waved a hand. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think your mother knew about it. Your dad told me it would stay between us.

This was too much. Roxann’s brain refused to absorb it all. Maybe she’d wake up and it would be over. Her father would be alive and she’d still be living in her lonely little utopia of denial.

Denial seemed a lot better than this hell. She’d mourned for Michael by closing herself off, banishing her dreams of love because she’d been unwilling to risk the pain that came with loving someone.

All because of odd circumstances and lies. If her parents had been honest with her, if Joel had given her the damn message, if she’d have tried to call Michael after he’d gotten back to Chicago, her life would be different. The what-ifs tortured her.

He inched closer, his concern evident as his gaze met hers. “You okay?”

“No.” She could finally admit that she was not okay. Hadn’t been okay in a long time and being here, with him, rehashing all that heartbreak would do her no good. She pushed by him and headed toward the door. “I need to go.”

Catching up with her, he clasped her arm. “Rox.”

“Please, let me go.”

His gaze darted over her face, but she held firm and gently pulled her arm free. Yes, she’d do the running this time.

“It’s a lot,” he said, “but we’ll get through it.”

“There’s a reason all this happened. I don’t know what it is, but I’m worn out. I have to go.”

He grabbed his keys. “I’ll take you home.”

“I have the car downstairs.”

He didn’t like it. That she could see, because he stood with his hand on the door knob, hesitating to move, probably wondering if it might be the last time she’d be here with him. Finally, he shoved his keys in the pocket of his shorts and opened the door.

“I’ll walk you out.”

Michael thought he might just be mad enough to kick King Kong’s ass, but arguing with Roxann wouldn’t help, so he’d walk her to her car and figure out what to do on the way.

With everything out in the open now, the opportunity for them to start fresh existed. Maybe the timing was fucked up with Alicia’s murder hanging over him, but he knew Roxann believed in his innocence.

Roxann walked beside him in silence. It irritated him when women were silent. It went against the laws of nature because they were supposed to be yapping about every damn thing until a guy thought his head might explode.

They stepped into the elevator and he pushed the lobby button. He couldn’t lose her again. Not over the same damn thing. Maybe she needed time to deal with the anger. She deserved that, but if he gave her space it could mean her walking away. He couldn’t risk it. Not when they had an opportunity to have a life together.

When the elevator opened, he let her exit first and the doorman handed her a set of keys.

“It’s still in front,” Hal said.

They stepped into the cool night air and the wind whipping off the lake puckered his skin. Damned cold all around. Michael opened the car door, watched her get in and leaned down.

“I can take you.”

“I’m fine.” She didn’t bother throwing him a glance. He hated fine. Fine always meant far from fucking fine.

“I’ll call you tomorrow. We’re not done with this.” He stepped back and shut the door. No sense giving her the opportunity to disagree with him, which she would do. He watched her pull into traffic and cursed himself for his mistakes.

When she turned off Lake Shore, a crackle of panic fired through him and replaced the chill of moments before.

Would he be that much of a dumbass and let her leave?

No
.

He headed inside and took the stairwell to the parking garage because, this time, he’d face the problem.

When he got to Roxann’s, he ran up to the door and pounded on it. A few seconds later, she pushed the curtain aside and, with her eyes shooting fire, snatched the door open.

“What?”

He grabbed her face in both hands, hauled her up and kissed her hard enough that she’d get the message he wasn’t giving up. If she pushed him away, he’d know she wanted him out of her life. After the incredible night they’d spent, when the uptight Roxann let herself go and allowed him make love to her in his office, he couldn’t imagine her pushing him away.

If she did, he would fight harder. He’d wait as long as he had to, but he wouldn’t let her get rid of him.

Funny thing, she didn’t push him away. She stayed there, kissing him, wrapping herself around him and creating enough heat to roast a city.
Amazing woman
. There would never be enough of her. He’d always crave her. Twelve years of being without her told him so.

He pulled back, searched her face for a hint of what she might be thinking. Good? Bad? Nothing there.
He’d
have to give
her
the answers. Or, at least try.

“We can work this out,” he said. “I never thought I’d find it again—what we had—a whole world of our own. I thought I’d had my shot. Now I’ve got another, and I won’t blow it this time. Take a risk, Roxi. You’ll see.”

No answer.
Dammit.
But he knew that armor of emotional control sustained her. Right now though, he would have preferred to know her thoughts. She bit her lip and those blue-green eyes sparked. Decision time.

She stepped back from the doorway and waved him in.

Score.

“I’m still mad at you,” she said when he stepped through the doorway.

“Yeah, but I’m not running.”

The next night, seated across from Roxann at her kitchen table, Michael stretched in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face. Could he be two days late for a shower? That’s how it felt anyway. After combing through an entire box of the investigator’s notes, the only thing he knew was Alicia had fucked half the city. He’d seen all of this before but the revisit pissed him off. He had been busting his hump trying to keep her in expensive clothes and all she wanted was to get
out
of them.

“We’ve been reading this crap for hours,” he said. “What am I looking for?”

Roxann, dressed in running shorts and a “Just Do It” T-shirt, clucked her tongue. “Anything that looks…well…odd, I guess.”

He had to laugh. “It’s all odd. Did you know that my wife had sex with a surgeon in the back of his SUV?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Go back to reviewing the security tapes.”

Tension buzzing under his skin, Michael stood. Sitting was making him nuts. “I figured another set of eyes on what you were doing would move things along.”

Roxann dropped the report she was holding. “You were questioned again today.”

Not a question, but a statement. She knew. Phil must have spoken with his P.D. source. Michael moved to the doorway and leaned on the doorjamb.

“An hour. No big deal. They don’t have anything. They’re so bent on locking me up, they don’t realize I’ve got nothing to give them. Besides, Arnie provides entertainment.”

Jesus, he felt pissy. He’d tried to shrug it off as a day in the life of Michael Taylor, but the constant scrutiny wore on him. For everyone’s sake, they needed to find Alicia’s killer.

“This must be hard for you.”

He tapped his hand against the wall. “What?”

“All of it. People staring at you, wondering if you killed her. Reading about your wife’s bad behavior. It’s tough for me to read and I didn’t know her. I wouldn’t have liked her.”

“You and Alicia were different. She used her body to get what she wanted. You use your brain.”

“Did you love her?” Roxann bolted straight and shuffled the pages in front of her. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

More paper shuffling.

“I thought I loved her enough. Then things changed. Being here with you, knowing what I missed. No, I didn’t love her. I wanted to believe I did.” The shuffling ceased and he stepped to the table, put both hands on it and leaned in.

“She wasn’t a good wife to you.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I was a shitty husband. After awhile, when my efforts at saving my marriage didn’t work and my energy was shot, I mentally checked out. By then I was wondering why some guy hadn’t snatched you up.”

She walked over and hugged him. Nice. He’d come to rely on the simple pleasures that Roxann brought. Those pleasures had been missing.

“That,” she said, “is the most honest exchange we’ve had since this whole thing started. Maybe I should have asked sooner.”

“Ah, Roxi. I’m sorry.” He pulled back, held her at arm’s length. “I screwed everything up. If I’d have talked to you back then, none of this would be happening. We could have had a great life together and now, who knows?”

“Don’t give up.” She waved a hand toward the boxes. “The answer is here. I know it. We just have to find it. I want that life we could have had.”

The phone rang. Crappy luck.

“You should answer that,” he said. “It could be work.”

She scooted down the hall to the living room in search of the cordless. “Hello? Hey Phil…No problem. What’s up?”

Phil. Michael wandered to the living room, stood in the archway and she gave him a thumbs up. What did that mean?

“
Really?
” Something Phil said snapped her to attention. “Let me call Griff and float it. Great work. Thank you.”

She clicked the phone off. “That was Phil.”

“No kidding?”

She walked toward him, stuck her index finger into his belt and pulled him closer. “It’s good news.” Her eyes wandered to his crotch then back up.

Hello.
Rise and shine, Mr. Happy, time to go to work.

“You want to hear what he said?”

“Maybe later. Mr. Happy has an urgent message for you.”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “I
love
Mr. Happy.”

“Honey, he loves you too.”

Fifteen minutes later, to Michael’s vast disappointment, Roxann grabbed a blanket off the sofa, pulled it to the floor and wrapped herself in it. “
Now
do you want to hear what Phil had to say?”

Hearing about Phil was probably the last thing he wanted, but hell, he’d humor her. He slipped into his underwear and sat next to her on the floor. “Tell me.”

“Our pit bull reporter talked to the recently terminated director of streets and sanitation, who, of course, is facing criminal charges.”

“Of course.”

“So,” she said, enjoying herself. “The not-so-esteemed director has decided to blow the whistle on corruption at City Hall and—” She held up a hand when Michael opened his mouth. “Wait for it.” She poked him in the arm. “He wants a deal. He’ll talk if the D.A. will lighten his sentence. Yes.” She pumped her fist in the air. “We broke this story.”

Michael gave her a squeeze. “Good for you, Rox. Great news.”

She scoffed, “Don’t you get it? We’re getting closer. I’m convinced Alicia was murdered because she knew something about Leland Wingate. Add the intern to this new information and I think these little pieces are coming together.”

She was riding high and he was a jerk for not sharing in her triumph, but someone had to keep things in perspective. Unless this guy knew something about Alicia’s death, there probably wasn’t much he could say that would crack the case. The corruption story was big and the
Banner
would get its praise, but the murder hadn’t been solved and he didn’t want Roxann getting ahead of herself.

“Don’t be so negative. Yeesh.” She grabbed his T-shirt, slipped it on and walked to the kitchen. “You want a drink?”

A little thrill shot through him at the sight of her in his shirt, but he didn’t want to get too comfortable with that. It wouldn’t last if his ass landed in prison. “Pop. Thanks,” he said from his spot on the floor.

“Hey,” he yelled a minute later thinking she was in the kitchen.

“What?” Roxann said from behind him and he jumped about three feet. She handed him a can of pop.

“Jeez, you weren’t gone that long.”

“I’m fast, remember?”

“Speaking of which, where are your Olympic medals? I figured you’d have them framed or something.”

Roxann sat next to him and took a sip of her water. “Shoebox in my closet.”

Olympic medals in a shoebox? In the
closet
? “Why?”

She pursed her lips. “I had them out for awhile, but then I put them away. Too many memories of a life I gave up on.”

Talk about a showstopper.

She turned to him and patted his cheek. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be a downer.”

“What did you mean by that?”

She shrugged. “I was twenty-three and an Olympic medalist. I had dreams of future Olympics, maybe coaching, but I knew my parents, my father mostly, would be disappointed. I was too young to realize I could have done it my way. The medals became a constant reminder. You know me, out of sight, out of mind. Compartmentalize it and it’s a non-issue, or so I thought. Instead, I’m dealing with presses that don’t work.”

Michael tugged lightly on her hair. “You could still coach, couldn’t you?”

She screwed up her lips. “I guess.”

“Something to think about anyway.”

“Yeah, I need something else to think about.”

“You can do anything you put your mind to. That’s why I came to you for help. You’re the most honorable person I know.”

“Keep talking that way and I might have to keep you around awhile.”

Michael smiled. “Honey, I’m counting on it.”

The next evening, Michael opened the car door, but held up a hand before Roxann could get out. “Are you sure you’re up for this? It’ll get ugly.”

“Stop it,” she huffed. “I can handle this. I’m good with a tough crowd.” She shoved his hand aside, got out of the car and stood on the Taylor’s tiny front lawn. Mother Nature had gifted them with a seventy degree day, and Roxann absorbed the warmth of waning sun while she contemplated facing a houseful of Michael’s family for his father’s birthday dinner.

Suddenly feeling overexposed, she ran her hands over her sweater and buttoned two buttons.

Michael held out his hand. “Here we go.”

There were aunts, uncles and cousins everywhere. She’d forgotten what a large family Michael had. His mother Rose reintroduced her to everyone in the house and then took her to the backyard, where Michael’s father, Frank, held court.

Who knew all these people could fit into a fifteen by twenty yard?

“My birthday present is finally here,” Michael’s father yelled when he saw her. “I told you mopes she’d be here.”

After Roxann had shaken hands and kissed every uncle, she made a vow to skin Michael for leaving her. Where had he disappeared to? She spotted Gina across the yard and made a beeline for safety, but was intercepted by the soon-to-be-skinned one. “Where’ve you been?”

He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, I got sidetracked. Come with me, I want you to say hi to someone.”

Once across the yard, they stopped next to a man Roxann recognized as Michael’s friend, Jerry. Max had warned her about Jerry and his rumored criminal connections, but he was Michael’s friend and she’d treat him as such.

“Roxi, you remember Jerry, right?”

Jerry, movie star handsome with his dark hair and blue eyes, held his arms wide and gave Roxann a hug. She had to smile. Who could resist such a greeting? It made it hard to believe what people said about him.

“It’s nice to see you, Jerry. How’ve you been?” She prayed he wouldn’t mention The
Banner
’s continual coverage of his rumored exploits.

“I can’t complain. I hear you’re trying to help my friend here. You need anything, you let me know.”

Roxann turned to Michael and squeezed his hand. The man had amazing friendships. “I will do that.”

“Oh, and listen, Mike tells me you’re interested in coaching track.”

She cleared the sudden hairball in her throat. “Uh, it was a conversation.”

Jerry pursed his lips. “You know that rec center going up on the south side?”

“Sure,” she said. “The one for at-risk kids.”

“Yeah. My buddy owns part of it and he’s looking for volunteers. The center has a huge track, but no one knows what to do with it.”

Something flickered inside her. “Really?”

“No pressure or anything, but having an Olympic medalist involved would get some kids in the door and, well, forget about the fundraising opportunities.”

Roxann slid a sideways glance at Michael. He smiled, but it wasn’t the full throttle Michael smile.
Yeah, buddy, you’re in trouble
. Probably. She should be mad at him for not checking with her before he spoke to Jerry, but she couldn’t be. Knowing him, he wanted to help her get back some of what she’d let go.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She turned back to Jerry. “Have your friend call me. I’d like to hear more about it.”

“Roxann,” Gina hollered from the back door. “I need your opinion on something.”

Saved by the yell.

“You’d better get in there,” Michael said. “See if you can talk to her about those skimpy clothes she wears. She’s a mother for God’s sake.”

Roxann rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot. If I had that figure, I’d wear those clothes too.”

“Not in this lifetime, babe,” he yelled after her.

Watching Roxann and her long legs make their way across the yard would never be a hardship. The legs, they got him every time. Michael turned to Jerry and shuddered. “She’s killing me.”

Jerry, eyes still on Roxann, said, “What a way to die.”

Michael snapped his fingers. “I need a favor.”

“Name it.”

“Rox has a mess at the paper. You probably read about it. Someone loosened something on the press and the whole thing went to hell. She’s trying to figure out if it was one of the union guys.”

Michael hesitated. He hated asking Jerry to do this. In fact, he hated having any association at all with Jerry’s business, but information was king.

Being one of his oldest friends, Jerry knew Michael wanted a legitimate life and had always respected that. Michael didn’t mind stepping outside the lines if the reasons were important, such as keeping an innocent man out of prison, but he wasn’t interested in being a career criminal.

“You want me to ask around?”

Michael nodded. “If it’s a problem, we’ll forget I brought it up.”

Jerry lifted a shoulder. “I’ll let you know.” Something caught his attention. “My wife is giving me the look. I’ll call you in a couple of days about the pressroom thing.”