Gabe shot to his feet and jabbed a finger at his brother. “Now just wait a goddamned minute! I didn’t do anything more than talk to her. And she approached me. What exactly are you accusing me of?”
Tom shook his head, his jaw clenched tight. “It’s not me who’s doing the accusing. It’s her father. He’s saying you assaulted her.”
Gabe straightened, his jaw falling open in his shock. “What?”
Tom shook his head, looking sick at having to even say the words. “Monroe is claiming you made an advance on Sandra, tried to force yourself on her, and when she refused, you roughed her up.”
“That’s fucking crazy,” Gabe breathed, dropping into the chair. “You know I’d never lay a hand on a woman, no matter who she is. And I’ve never even seen Sandra Monroe before yesterday. Not only that—we were in the middle of the sidewalk. Check the pharmacy’s security cameras and you’ll be able to see what happened.”
Tom nodded. “Already working on that. What am I going to see, Gabe? Anything I need to worry about?”
“I had my hands on her upper arms,” Gabe explained, shaking his head in dismay. “She was shivering with fear. I was just trying to convince her she’d be safe if she talked with us. I was trying to console her.”
“How hard were you gripping her arms?” Tom asked.
Gabe’s brows came together in a confused frown. “Not at all. She was so skittish, I was barely even touching her.”
Tom turned his laptop around to show Gabe the screen. “These are photos Monroe sent to the Old Man this morning.”
Gabe cursed a blue streak when he saw the images before him. The pretty little blond he’d met the evening before was a bruised and bloody mess. Her arms bore heinous black and yellow and purple bruises. Her bottom lip was split, blood covering her chin. Her left eye was swollen shut. And a close-up of her hands showed broken and bloodied fingernails and other wounds that made it appear she’d put up one hell of a fight.
“I didn’t do this,” Gabe rasped. “Jesus, Tom. You know I didn’t.”
“Where did you go after you met her on the street?” Tom asked.
Gabe was so disconcerted, he shook his head, needing to stop and get his thoughts in order before answering. “Uh…I went back to Elle’s office to pick her up. We’d had dinner, and I dropped her at her office so she could pick up a file. I was getting the car when Sandra approached me.”
“And then?”
Gabe leveled his gaze at his brother, growing angry that the incredible night he’d had with the woman he loved was turning out to be an alibi. “We spent the night together. And before you even ask, yeah, it was the entire night. Give her a call and ask her. I dropped her off at her office this morning.”
Tom dropped his gaze. “She’s dealing with her own issues right now.”
Gabe felt rage building in his chest and had to tamp it down in order to grind out, “What the hell do you mean?”
Tom looked up, his expression guarded. “How long have you and Elle been sleeping together?”
Gabe was on his feet in an instant. “What the hell business is it of yours?”
“Turns out it’s going to be everyone’s business soon,” Tom informed him. “Monroe’s planning to ask that Derrick receive a new trial. He’s claiming that Elle should’ve recused herself as prosecutor because you were the lead investigator on the case and she was having a sexual relationship with you at that time.”
“That’s bullshit!” Gabe raged. “Elle and I didn’t get together until after I was shot.”
“Nothing ever happened before that?” Tom prompted. “She’ll confirm that?”
Gabe paced a tight path in front of Tom’s desk. “Of course! You know what our relationship has been like. She wouldn’t give me a chance—” He came to an abrupt halt. “Ah, fuck.”
“When?” Tom demanded. “When did something happen between you two prior to the trial? And who knows about it?”
Gabe laced his fingers behind his neck and leaned his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. “The night Chris died. The bartender at Mulaney’s called her. I was shit-faced and she came in to encourage me to leave. She gave me a ride home and one thing led to another.”
“Goddamn it, Gabe!” Tom roared, coming out of his chair.
“We didn’t sleep together,” Gabe fired back. “We just… Christ, why am I telling you any of this? I don’t have to explain myself to you, you sanctimonious dick!”
“Yeah?” Tom retorted. “You’d better tell me every single fucking detail, Gabe. Do you have any clue what it’ll do to Chris’s widow if we have to go through another trial? If Derrick Monroe walks?”