“Jessica,” he said, slipping into one of the other conference rooms instead. “How are you and the kids?”
“Pretty damned pissed, Gabe,” Chris’s widow hissed. “Is it true you screwed up the investigation? Is Derrick Monroe getting another trial? And did you assault some woman? I know you’ve always been a player, but did you seriously stoop to something so brutal?”
“Jesus, Jess,” he interjected when she finally paused to take a breath. “You know I didn’t! I would never treat anyone that way. It’s all bullshit. How did you even find out?”
“Are you serious?” she laughed. “It’s all over the news.”
Gabe’s head suddenly felt like it was about to explode. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on something other than the pounding in his head. “Of course Monroe would go to the press. Why am I surprised?”
“And the trial?” she continued. “What about that?”
He heaved a frustrated sigh, wishing he could give her such an emphatic denial on that one. “I don’t know. We’re fighting it. Dad talked to Judge Murray, but with the climate not being particularly friendly to law enforcement right now, Murray’s treading lightly.”
He heard her mutter a curse. “That man cannot go free, Gabe. He just can’t. I can’t go through that again. The kids can’t go through that. Teddy’s old enough now to understand what’s going on. I don’t want him to hear all the details of how his father died.”
“You know we did everything by the book in Chris’s case,” Gabe assured her. “You know we did right by him, Jess. I loved the guy like a brother.”
“Yeah, well, what would you do if it was one of your real brothers, Gabe?” she demanded. “If you cared so much about Chris, then you make sure that son of a bitch sitting in prison for his murder doesn’t get out.”
She hung up before he had a chance to respond. It was probably just as well. All he could do was make empty promises anyway.
Speaking of empty promises…
He checked the call list on his phone, hoping that maybe he’d missed a call from Elle, but no such luck.
He’d been an ass to storm out of her office like he had earlier. All he’d wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her, tell her how much he loved her over and over again and hope it still meant something to her.
It was killing him that they’d left things the way they had. He’d almost called her a few times since then but had thought better of it, not wanting to make the situation worse. He checked his watch. Several hours had passed. Shit. He probably should’ve at least tried to call sooner… Even if she’d told him to go to hell, she would’ve at least known he wanted to talk.
He hit her number before he could talk himself out of it and listened to the phone ring until it went to her voice mail. Even the sound of her recorded voice made his heart race.
God, he had it bad…
“Hey, it’s me,” he said. “I just… I was just hoping to talk. I’m sorry I stormed out earlier. Just…call me, I guess.”
He returned his phone to his hip, an undercurrent of apprehension creeping beneath his skin. He had the sudden urge to claw at himself to dig out the sensation.
It was ridiculous. Elle was fine. She was probably just busy. Or still pissed. Either one was completely plausible, all things considered.
And yet he couldn’t help feeling that something was off. Something just didn’t feel right. His instincts were telling him he needed to get his ass moving—but where? Why? Was it just the fact that Monroe was sitting just a couple rooms down, spouting lies so ridiculous they’d already starting spreading like wildfire? Or was there something more?
He gave himself a hard mental shake and tried to tamp down the restlessness plaguing him, then charged toward the observation room to try to catch some of the bullshit Monroe was slinging.
He slipped inside, closed the door softly behind him, and jerked his chin at his brothers who’d gathered there as well.
“Hey, Joe, Kyle,” he said. “Come to enjoy the show?”
“Tom called us,” Kyle told him. “Thought we might want to be here. Nobody’s seriously buying this shit, are they?”
“Apparently so,” Gabe replied. “Got a call from Jessica Andrews a few minutes ago—she heard it on the news.”
Joe cursed under his breath. “Media doesn’t miss a beat, do they? Never mind that this son of a bitch is a total whack-job.”