Legal Heat

Chapter Twenty-One


The door opened. Just a crack at first, and then wider.

Katy looked up.

Impeccably tailored suit, Italian leather shoes and blue silk tie. Mark. Carrying a lunch tray.

The scent of soap and sandalwood filled the small storage room, one of many in the basement of the office tower housing Hi-Tech’s headquarters. A deliciously familiar scent. Ruined by the smell of chicken broth.

Bastard.

She scowled and flipped through the file she had just pulled from one of the dozens of boxes stacked against the wall. She couldn’t believe how many files Steele had suddenly managed to produce. Mark must have had a talk with him before he withdrew as counsel. But of course, no one had warned her about the volume of disclosure. There was no way she could get through all the documents by herself. Even though her meeting with Patricia had helped her focus the search, it would still take weeks. She only had an afternoon.

Mark sat down across from her and placed the tray on the table.

“You are still recovering, sugar. You need to eat. You’ve been here since seven and I know you didn’t have breakfast so I took the liberty of visiting the cafeteria.”

“I’m quite capable of feeding myself.”

Typical male. No greeting. No apology. Sauntering in here like he owned the place. Like he owned her. He could go to hell.

“If you don’t eat this, I’ll feed you myself.” A hint of warning sharpened the smooth tenor of his voice.

She caught her breath. There was no doubt in her mind he would do exactly that. But she was too angry for caution. Too hurt to care about the consequences.

“I’d like to see you try,” she growled. She glanced up to see his reaction.

Damn.

His steady, heated gaze made her shudder. Possessive. Dominant. Unyielding.

“Would you really?” His dark eyes glittered at the challenge.

Katy sighed. “Mark, please just go. Leave me alone. I have work to do.” She scribbled on her page. Nonsense words. Pretending to be busy as her heart turned back flips.

Stupid heart. You’re supposed to be broken.

“You won’t make it through all the documents if you don’t have the energy.” He pushed the tray towards her.

She jerked back and slid her chair away from the table. “I asked you to leave. For once, try to make an effort to respect what I want.”

Whispers in her ear. Soft lips on her neck. Promises. Secrets. The memories hurt.

“You aren’t safe. I’ve been watching the door all morning. There are several businesses in the building with storage rooms down here. A lot of people have access to the basement. Steele should have let you review the documents in his office. I think he put you down here for a reason.”

“You’re overreacting,” she snapped. “The police are watching the elevator and the stairwell.”

He rested his elbow on the table, his finger brushing over his bottom lip, drawing her eyes to the mouth that had kissed her with such tenderness and spoken the words that had broken her heart.

“How did I get in then?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t care how you got in, but for the record, it was a supremely stupid thing to do. If you’re caught down here, Steele will have a hands down case of conflict of interest against you, not to mention all the other ethical breaches involved in breaking into a former client’s storage room and talking to former opposing counsel.”

His gaze locked on hers. Beautiful eyes. So familiar. She didn’t know how long they simply stared at each other. Why was he really here? To torment her further? To distract her? She didn’t want to consider the other option.

“I’m willing to take that risk to keep you safe. I care about you, Katy.”

She left the table and headed over to the wall of boxes. “If you cared, you wouldn’t have interfered.” She had opened herself up. Trusted him. Now she knew she’d done it for nothing. In the end, men always betrayed her.

Lesson learned. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

She stood in front of a precariously stacked pile and searched for the next one in the series. She could feel his eyes on her body, as if he were touching her with his hands.

Well let him look. He would never touch her again.

His chair scraped the floor. Italian leather heels thudded softly towards her.

She froze. Closed her eyes. Breathed in his scent. Steeled herself against him.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

A shudder rocked her. Unable to resist, she turned her head, looking back at him over her shoulder. His tie glimmered under the soft florescent lighting. Another memory. Another event she wanted to forget.

Gently, slowly, he turned her around to face him.

“I understand how important your career is to you but I knew, between your stubbornness and Ted’s ambition, you would continue to pursue the case. Even after what happened. You just can’t let things go. Someone needed to look out for you.”

She took a step back and folded her arms. “How unbelievably arrogant.” A quiver of anger worked over her body. “How many times have I told you? I don’t need you to take care of me.”

Her elbow hit one of the boxes and the stack tilted forward. Mark reacted before she even sensed he had moved. One minute, she was standing in front of the avalanche and the next, she was cradled under his arm as his other hand shot forward and slammed the tumbling boxes into place.

She closed her eyes. Every inch of her skin came alive, her temperature soared. Her body leading her mind. Again.

“Stop protecting me,” she muttered into his chest.

He laughed with a deep rumble, his breath warm and moist in her ear. “Not a chance.”

He crushed her to him and banded his arms around her waist. “I love you, Katy. I don’t want to lose you.”

Her heart pounded. Her thoughts slowed down. The stacks of boxes receded until there was only Mark.

She missed him.

She hated him.

She loved him.

He kissed the top of her head and leaned forward to nuzzle her neck. “This is when you’re supposed to run away.”

She moaned. Needing him. Despising him.

“I love that sound,” he rasped. He cupped her face with both hands and slanted his mouth over hers.

A creak startled them both.





“I always trust my instincts.” Steele’s voice, dark and dangerous, echoed through the small room. The door closed behind him with a loud bang.

Mark pushed Katy behind him, an instinctual move and totally ineffective. Katy immediately stepped away and into Steele’s line of vision.

“As usual, they never let me down.” He leaned against the door, arms folded, blocking their only means of escape. His hooded gaze raked over Katy, and then flicked over to Mark. “I thought something was going on during the discovery. After the seminar at the Fairmont, I was almost convinced. But I knew for certain when I discovered where your little kitty went to recover after her terrible accident.”

“I’m not his kitty,” Katy snapped.

Steele snorted. “The label doesn’t matter. You’re his. It’s written all over his face. Now I understand why he was so eager to drop my case.”

“You asked me to do something unethical,” Mark said. “It had nothing to do with her.”

“You’re a hypocrite as well as a coward.” Steele toyed with the Rolex on his wrist. “You’ve had a conflict, possibly since the day of the discovery. Whether you acted responsibly is neither here nor there. I have to assume you compromised my case. I think the video footage of this afternoon’s activities will prove to be quite informative to the Law Society.”

“What do you want?” Mark growled. Steele would have reported them already if that had been his intent.

A sensual, carnal smile tipped Steele’s lips. “I think that’s obvious.”

“Humor us,” Katy said, her words laced with venom. “Spell it out, or is the word blackmail too hard for you?”

“Katy.” Mark cut her off with a bark. Attacking Steele would only lead to disaster. Had she not learned that lesson before?

Steele’s lips curved into a smile. “The question is, kitty, will it be too hard for you? Looks to me like you need someone to tell you what hard really means.”

Katy wrinkled her nose. “You’re disgusting. If you think for even a moment that I would sleep with you—”

“I assure you, in my bed you wouldn’t be getting any sleep,” Steele chortled.

“Bastard.”

“The thought of being with a real man excites you, doesn’t it?” Steele smiled at Katy’s outburst, his feral gaze blazing a trail across her body. “I can see it in the flush of your cheeks and the rapid beat of the pulse in your neck. We have chemistry, kitty, and I know all about chemistry.”

“Enough.” Mark crossed the room in three long strides and stood toe to toe with Steele. His body shook with the effort of containing his fury. He drew his arm back, but Steele held his hands up, palm forward and took a step away.

“Are you sure you want to add assault to your growing list of misdeeds?” Amusement laced Steele’s tone. “I’m just playing with your little kitty, but you don’t seem to have fully grasped your situation. You have a serious problem—an undeclared professional conflict of interest. I should really call the Law Society and file a complaint…unless…” his gaze settled on Katy and he beckoned her forward, “…I get what I’ve always wanted.”

A surge of anger coursed through Mark, electrifying his body. “You can’t have her.”

Steele snorted a sigh and shook his head. “You’re thinking with the wrong part of your body. I don’t want her. Well I do, but not at the cost of billions of dollars. What I want is the f*cking case off my desk and her nose out of my business. You…” he pointed at Katy, “…are going to bring me a settlement agreement, signed by your client, and we’ll finish this case once and for all. Tonight.”

Katy shook her head in confusion. “What kind of game are you playing? You know I can’t force my client to sign anything.”

Steele’s eyes hardened. “By the time you’ve drafted the agreement and made your way to her house, I can assure you she will sign anything you put in front of her.”

Son of a bitch. Mark let loose. One fist found Steele’s jaw and the other pounded into Steele’s gut. One. Two. Back away. Just as he had learned on the streets.

But Steele was no lightweight. Although his head snapped to the side and he hissed out a breath, he didn’t move. Instead, he put a hand to his jaw and rubbed it over his chin. “Now that was uncalled for. Here I’m trying to save two promising legal careers and I’m assaulted for my efforts. I just hope kitty’s client isn’t as…recalcitrant.”

“Gordon,” Mark growled. “You’re going to send Gordon after her.”

Steele spat blood on the concrete floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Mark felt a faint twinge of pleasure. His punch had had an effect after all.

“Gordon lacks the finesse for this kind of work. Saunders and I have a few things to discuss. Private things. I’ll be paying the little troublemaker a personal visit.”

Katy bristled. “You stay away from her.”

Mark’s fingers twitched at his side, but he leashed his anger. Beating Steele to a pulp would achieve nothing and instead would only prove to Katy that her fears about his past resurfacing were true. He would have to find another way.

Steele fixed his gaze on Katy. “You will bring the signed agreement to my office tonight at eight o’clock. Mark, you will be there to ensure it all checks out and to witness my signature. I want it all legal. No loose ends.”

Mark clenched his teeth so hard he was surprised they didn’t crack. Legal? Steele didn’t know the meaning of the word. But at least Katy wouldn’t be alone. He gave Steele a curt nod.

“Excellent,” Steele continued. “And just in case our kitty gets any ideas about double crossing me or sticking that little nose into my affairs ever again, I’ve got these.” He held up two photos. Mark recognized them right away and his heart thudded into his stomach.

“Melissa and Justin, I believe.” Steele tucked the photos into his breast pocket. “They look like you, kitty, but they both have Steven’s nose.”

Mark had no idea how Katy crossed the room so quickly but within seconds she had her hands around Steele’s thick neck.

“If you ever touch my children…” she shrieked, “…if you ever hurt so much as a hair on the heads—”

Mark grabbed her and pulled her away. “Leave him,” he whispered urgently in her ear. “He wants you to make it worse. We’ll find another way.”

“Let me go.” She wriggled in his grasp, frantic to get at Steele. Mark wrapped his arms tightly around her, grimacing when her heels hit his shins.

Steele opened the door, but paused on his way out. “As I said before, that kitty needs to be tamed. It’s a shame you’re not up to the task.”

The door slammed closed. Mark released Katy and thudded the wall with his fist.

All. My. Fault. He had endangered Katy when all he wanted was to keep her safe.

Katy’s sobs wrenched him back to the present. Crimson splotches scored her cheeks. “I hate him. I wish I’d never met him. I wish I’d never taken this case. I wish I hadn’t asked Ted keep me on it.”

Mark put his hand on her shoulder and tried to draw into his arms. He ached with the need to comfort her. Hold her. Protect her. “We’ll sort it out, sugar. Together.”

“No.” Katy slapped his hand away. “You’ve done enough. I don’t need your kind of help. I’ll deal with it on my own.”

“You can’t take him on by yourself.”

She grabbed her briefcase and pulled open the door. “The hell I can’t.”





“Hunter.”

“Keegan.”

“Fancy meeting you here in front of the Vancouver Art Gallery. I didn’t know cops appreciated art.”

“We read it every day in the newspaper.”

A group of tourists ambled past, following meekly behind a woman with a collapsible umbrella.

“I hope you’re not suggesting my stories are anything less than total fact.” Keegan pulled out a cigarette and lit it with the casual grace of someone well practiced in the art of self-destruction.

“I might be able to help you with that problem.”

“So you’re the fairy godmother now?” Keegan flicked his ash into the air.

James sighed and leaned against the smooth brick wall. “Talk to me, Keegan. Tell me a story. I’ve got bodies coming out my ears and no way to connect the dots.”

Keegan blew three smoke rings in quick succession. “I went to an interesting lecture the other day down at the Fairmont. Darkon Steele spoke about bringing new drugs to market. Apparently it can take up to fifteen years and cost millions of dollars, but a successful drug can net over a billion dollars a year.”

“Are we going somewhere with this?” James saw a flash of red and for a split second he thought Lana was at the art gallery too. But no. Just a mother and her two kids, all with shocking red hair.

“Good stories start with a prologue,” Keegan said. “If you miss the prologue, you won’t understand the story. Where was I? Oh yes, Steele said drugs have to go through lots of testing: lab testing, animal testing and then at least three levels of human testing. All strictly regulated, of course. A company can’t progress from one level of testing to another if the drug doesn’t meet certain safety thresholds.”

“Why don’t you go back to school, Keegan? Sounds like you missed your calling. You’d make a good scientist.”

Keegan looked up when a helicopter thundered past overhead. “Nah. Too dangerous.”

“I’m still waiting for the story.”

Keegan dropped his cigarette butt and twisted it into the ground with his toe. “Do you have your blankie, Hunter? It’s a scary story. Once upon a time, a company developed a fabulous new drug, but when they tested it on animals, bad things happened. But they were so convinced of its potential they decided it would probably still be okay in humans. They fudged their numbers and got approval to test it on human subjects. The drug did work amazingly well, but in a few people, terrible, terrible things happened. They tried to cover it up. Paid out a lot of money. Signed a lot of agreements. Came down heavy on the victims to keep them quiet. They knew they would never get approval for the next phase of testing, but the drug was just too fabulous to give up on and they still thought they could iron out the kinks.”

Keegan paused to light a new cigarette. “If I was illustrating my story, at this point I would draw my characters with dollar signs in their eyes. Billions of them.”

James snorted. “They obviously don’t work in public service.”

“Or for a newspaper.” Keegan chuckled and took another drag on his cigarette. “So the company tweaked the drug, fudged some more numbers and drafted some fake authorizations. Then they went to a country where no one would look too hard at their documents as long as they greased a few palms along the way. An impoverished country with many illiterate people who were desperate for money and willing to do anything or sign anything to get it.”

“They don’t sound like nice guys.”

“They’re businessmen. They wear fancy suits and drink expensive lattes while they sit in leather-clad comfort in steel and glass towers making decisions that can destroy lives.”

“So what happened?”

“I’m glad my story has captured your attention. Sort of like a well-endowed red-headed investigator.”

James stiffened. How the f*ck did he know about Lana? Where the hell did he get his information?

“Something bothering you?” Keegan brushed imaginary fluff off his sports jacket. “Did I get the color wrong?”

“Get on with it,” James growled.

“Well again some people suffered terrible side effects and some people died, but in the grand scheme of things, the testing was a resounding success. The drug worked amazingly well in many people, so the company pretended the bad reactions didn’t happen. Documents disappeared. People were paid off. They weren’t worried. After all, who would find out? It all happened in a land far, far away.”

James raked his fingers through his hair. “Let me guess the rest. They came home with their fake results, bribed a few regulators and put it on the market. Everyone lived happily ever after, except the handful of people who suffered and the relatives of those who died.”

“And the employee who got fired when she tried to pre-empt my Pulitzer Prize winning story by going to the regulators. The same guys who had just returned from their all-expenses-paid vacations.”

James nodded. “So what’s the drug?”

“It isn’t on the market yet. Top secret. But maybe you’ve picked some up on the street?” He raised an eyebrow and gave James a questioning look.

James shook his head. “We only got traces of an unidentified compound.”

“Good thing.” Keegan blew a smoke ring. “Can you imagine how angry they would be if they discovered someone had misappropriated samples of their secret product and given them to a low-life drug dealer to sell on the black market? The risk of a competitor getting hold of the product and stealing away the billion dollar prize would make anyone—”

“Angry enough to kill.” James mentally cleared Jimmy’s case file off his desk and made a note to send a patrol car to Saunders’s residence. “Unfortunately there doesn’t seem to be much substance behind your story, enjoyable as it was.”

“The proof’s in the pudding, or should I say, the pharma.” Keegan raised his eyebrows, a silent request.

Damn. He had hoped Keegan had dug something up. “Judge wouldn’t give me the warrant.”

Disappointment creased Keegan’s face. “Someone needs to get inside.”

James scrubbed his hand over his face. It could take weeks to set up an undercover operation. But if he could find someone who already had access to the office, and no love for Steele…

“I have an idea. When is the launch?”

“Three days from now—Monday.”

“F*ck.”

Keegan grinned. “That, my friend, is what the story is really about.”





“Should I ask?” Tony handed Mark a glass of bourbon and poured one for himself before replacing the bottle on the shelf behind the bar. Except for the splash of amber liquid and the clink of glassware, Carpe Noctem was eerily quiet. It wouldn’t last. But by the time the crowds started to trickle into the club, he would be long gone.

“No.” He wasn’t in a mood to talk, and especially not to the man spearheading his removal from the firm. He shot back the bitter whiskey, barely tasting it, and pushed his glass across the counter. Tony filled it up again.

Where was Katy? He had tried her cell, her office, even her home, but she hadn’t returned his calls all afternoon.

Damn. If Katy had just trusted him, he could have sorted everything out. But she had made it very clear trusting him was the last thing she would ever do.

He slammed his glass on the table, amazed it didn’t break.

“Bad day at the office?”

The low, calm rumble of James’s voice in his ear and the steady hand on his shoulder did nothing to soothe the anxiety ratcheting through his veins.

“You could say that.”

“I’ve been looking for you,” James said. “Your secretary told me I would find you here.” Mark shoved the glass across the counter and pushed himself off the stool. Tony was already at the door greeting the first client of the evening.

“I’ve got a meeting at eight o’clock. What do you want?”

James frowned. “What the hell is up with you? You look rough and you sound worse.”

“Steele found out about Katy, ironically after everything fell apart between us. He used the professional conflict as leverage to orchestrate a settlement of the case.”

“Blackmail.” James scowled. “Since it’s a criminal offence, did it occur to you to contact the police? Maybe you know someone…”

Mark scrubbed his hand over his face. “I thought about it, but it would just bring the professional conflict to light. I wanted to talk it over with Katy, but she disappeared after our altercation with Steele. She’s planning something and I’m worried she’s going to get hurt. It’s f*cking killing me. I want to help but she’s made it clear she doesn’t want me to interfere in her life.”

“I might have a solution to your problem.” James poured himself a glass of whiskey. “Sit down. I have a story to tell you.”

For the next twenty minutes Mark’s worries took a backseat to disbelief while James spun his incredible tale of illegal clinical trials and fatal drugs. If James had it right, Steele’s concern about Katy’s investigation and his insistence on tying up loose ends from the earlier clinical trials made sense. Still he had trouble believing Steele had finally crossed the line from dangerous to deadly.

“What I don’t understand is what he’s planning to do after people start swelling up and dying after the launch.” James drained his whiskey glass and spun it on the counter.

Still reeling from the disclosure of just how far Steele was prepared to go, Mark said, “He’ll conduct very controlled secret post-clinical trials to show the drug is safe. He’ll explain away any bad reactions as being due to outside factors. So long as the deaths or serious side effects stay below a certain percentage, the regulators will just slap on a warning sticker. If the numbers get too high, he might just send people out with blank checks and settlement agreements to keep it all quiet.”

James raked his hand over his head. “I need to get inside. Dig up some proof. I tried for a warrant but the damn judge probably plays golf with Steele. He said I didn’t have enough evidence to make a connection.”

Mark snorted. “Katy and I are meeting him at his office tonight to finalize the settlement agreement. Maybe you could come disguised as an articling student.”

“I have a better idea,” James said. “Have you ever worn a wire?”