"So why run at it, then?" Yasmin didn't understand.

  Luke sighed, leaning against the counter. For the first time she saw that he too had changed into plaid flannel pants and a t-shirt. Clearly both of them were exhausted.

  "I guess it's like the difference of you on the stand and me on the stand. It's easier on me. I've seen this go down a ton of times and I don't see a lot of options for how it turns out. But you're nervous." He shrugged. "The lawyer wants to make a name. If he loses, it's just a black mark, and not that bad, it's a pretty unwinnable case. But it's Homeo's life he's playing with. It's worse for you because it's not my case, really. For Valverde, for me, it's one of many, for you it's hopefully the only one you'll ever have."

  And didn't that just sum it all up?

  She was attached to him and he saw her as just another case. Never mind what they'd done to each other. This was professional. Even that silly dollar, it was because he felt responsible since it had happened at his grocery store, right in front of him.

  So she cast a spell on herself before going to bed. She protected herself, her poor kittens left alone these long days, her home that she hadn't seen in nearly a week. Then she crawled into bed and passed out cold.

  It was two a.m. when she woke up screaming—she didn't even know what from.

  The door slammed open. Luke simultaneously blocking the wide beam of light even as he let it in. She could see the outline of the gun he held and Yasmin looked around for the source of his need of it for a moment before she realized it was all her.

  "Was it a dream?"

  He didn't move from that spot in the door. He could have been almost anyone, she couldn't see his face, though she would recognize his outline anywhere.

  Yasmin nodded and, being the polite gentleman that he was, he asked if she was going to be okay, if she could get back to sleep all right, then he closed the door.

  Still shaking from the remnants of a dream she could feel but not remember, Yasmin took the lumps she doled out to herself. He didn't even come into the room as she screamed.

  Luke's day was as frustrating as one had ever been.

  He'd hardly slept. First because Yasmin had screamed and he had to play the professional. Police officers didn't hold crying women. Not ones that looked like that. Besides, that's what he'd done the first time she'd needed him—pillowed her head on a grocery bag, stared into her eyes and played knight in shining badge.

  Then he hadn't been able to sleep because he felt like a tool. She'd needed someone to hold her. He wanted to. But as he sat on the stand—his day looking to be longer even than Yasmin's—he was almost glad he hadn't.

  The lawyer was a sleaze of the worst kind. This was the kind of person Luke was always tempted to leave at an accident or say 'not much we can do' if his place got vandalized. Luke wouldn't do that, but he wanted to.

  As the morning wore on, it became more and more clear that the lawyer had played softball with Yasmin the day before. Either that or he'd simply dismissed her as a source. For some reason he found a thread with Luke and he started picking at it.

  Luke was pissed. He explained again the first time he'd seen Yasmin, right before Homeo's failed attempt at murder one. "I saw her in the produce section of the grocery store. She had two little girls with her. I thought they were her daughters; it turned out they were her nieces."

  It was the vegetables that got to the lawyer. Luke saw that as the sign of an undeveloped soul. "Why was a bachelor in the produce department . . . Unless you were following the beautiful Ms. Ali?"

  Luke blinked and kept his expression as bland as possible. "I was buying vegetables. I'm quite at home in my kitchen." Then he said something he regretted. "Would you like some tips on a proper diet? You look like you don't get enough vegetables."

  It was stupid. Juvenile. And completely out of line. He knew it. The judge and DA knew it. But the jury and the audience tittered. And it made the defense lawyer pissy. Which was just as juvenile as Luke saying it in the first place.

  He asked about the first shooting. Picked at the circle of blue fire Luke saw. And Luke shot back, almost coming out of his seat a few times. "I don't know what it was I saw. But several people saw it. How am I supposed to know?"

  Forcibly he calmed himself. Reminded himself repeatedly that he told Yasmin last night that he was a professional. It was time he acted like it. The thing was, it wasn't just any case. It was Yasmin.

  Several times the DA would object, and it got to the point where Luke would look to the prosecution before answering. What a farce.

  He was asked about his one dollar fee, even though the DA had already clearly established that both precincts had approved, the fee was known in advance. Luke had to answer that no, Yasmin had not paid him in any other way.

  And he hoped that his body language didn't give away anything about the lotto tickets sitting in his desk drawer. Because surely Mr. Sleaze Defense Lawyer here would assume Yasmin had whored herself to pay for protection.

  That's exactly where he went.

  Was there anything unprofessional at all about their relationship?

  No. Thank god he could say that.

  Did he have any feelings for Ms. Ali?

  Luke looked to the DA with an expression that asked "Is this guy for real?"

  The DA objected soundly and Luke felt like he was watching a tennis match as he turned back to the judge, then to the defense lawyer. The judge was in the process of laughing down the question and upholding the objection when Mr. Sleaze interrupted.

  Though the judge clearly didn't like it, she listened.

  "Mr. Salzone here—"

  Luke gritted his teeth. He was in court and that was just rude. It was all he could do not to spit out "Detective Salzone." But he kept his mouth shut and listened.

  "—has made a series of decisions and recommendations about the protection of Ms. Yasmin." Sleaze spread his hands out as though his meaning were obvious.

  The judge was having none of that. "The woman was shot at. More than once and evidence points to your client. I'm not sure where you're going with this."

  "I'm simply saying that he extended protection when the PD did not feel it necessary."

  Luke's neck snapped as his gaze volleyed to the other side of the room. The DA was on her feet. "The PD did not find that protection was unnecessary, they simply did not have the funds to cover it."

  "Actually," Sleaze shook a finger at her, the conversation having turned away from the judge who seemed to realize it but let him go on. "The PD ranked Ms. Ali's protection as not worthy of the limited funds they did have to protect high level witnesses."

  The DA tried to hide her irritation and Luke tried to hide his, too.

  "Ms. Ali's protection was clearly a proper decision and warranted by the number of bullets removed from her domicile . . ." She went on to rattle off statistics and even got through some of it before Sleaze popped back in.

  "Still, Mr. Salzone offered protection before any of that occurred and for just one dollar."

  The judge popped in this time. "It's not unheard of."

  "But it is rare. In part we believe Ms. Ali was in danger because Mr. Salzone convinced her she was. I'm simply trying to establish that his decisions may not have been solely based on her actual danger." Sleaze, attorney at law, stood before the judge, penitent with his palms out, up, as though it were all obvious.

  Luke's heart beat faster. This was ridiculous. Yasmin had been shot at, repeatedly. Protection was clearly necessary. And it was his job to determine so at the outset. He'd done exactly that and he'd been right. He was ready to say so.

  But the next question floored him.

  "Mr. Salzone, are you in love with Ms. Yasmin Ali?"

  CHAPTER 21

  Frantic, Luke looked to the DA. But she only stared back at him blankly. He looked next to the judge, trying to look calm but clearly failing terribly.

  It was his obvious panic that seemed to make the judge frown at him.

  The DA had already objected and been overruled.

  And she had gone over everything with a fine tooth comb. She'd asked Luke and Yasmin every question in the book prepping them for this trial that wasn't supposed to happen. Homeo should have pled out. Luke shouldn't be asked this. He'd done everything right. Dammit, he hadn't touched her, hadn't held her last night when she screamed out so that he could come in here today and say "No, nothing unprofessional ever occurred."

  Instead, he wasn't asked about his actions. He was asked about his feelings. In his head a barrage of swear words careened back and forth. Turning to the judge he asked, "Can he ask that?" and tried to look nonchalant. He wasn't fooling anyone.

  The judge told him to answer the question.

  So he sat forward, faced the courtroom even though he looked into the middle space at no one in particular, "At the time of the decision to offer protection for one dollar, no, I was not in love with her."

  The swear words in his head almost blocked the sound of the defense attorney asking a follow-up question. It was—of course—accompanied by a satisfied smile. "But you had feelings for her? You were . . . interested in her? That's why you noticed her in the grocery store."

  Luke adjusted his tie, a nervous tic he couldn't seem to counter. "I thought she was married with two school aged children!"

  "You didn't answer the question."

  No, he hadn't. Taking a deep breath, Luke tried again. "Yes, I found her attractive. I think Ms. Ali's attractiveness is more a matter of fact than of my personal opinion though."

  Sleaze walked back and forth across the open space bracketed by the judge, the witness stand, and the counsels' desks. This time he stopped in front of the jury. He spoke toward them, though his question was clearly for Luke. The fifteen people in the box, twelve jurors and three alternates, leaned forward. The case had just gotten good. Luke tried to ignore the fascinated expressions on their faces.

  "Mr. Salzone—"

  Luke snapped. "It's Detective Salzone." Though he didn't yell it, the words were sharp enough to make his point. Unfortunately, they also made the defense attorney's point: that Luke was on edge. This topic was a touchy one. That he'd hit a nerve.

  The DA was sitting so motionless it was clear that she was trying not to put her head in her hands. She was actively searching for a spot to object, he knew it. But she didn't find it.

  Sleaze started over, saccharine dripping from every word, his tone as disbelieving as it could possibly be. "Detective Salzone, are you or are you not in love with Ms. Yasmin Ali?"

  Luke breathed in. Looked up.

  There she sat, several rows back like she always was. Watching him like he was a monster, mouth open, fangs inches from her face. Like a rabbit that—if she just sat still enough—might go unnoticed, or at least die quickly. There was nothing left he could do.

  But he couldn't look away. "I am."

  He could hear her intake of breath from where he sat on the witness stand. In half a second, she had popped up from her seat, drawing the attention of the jury finally away from him and his answer. But Luke wished they'd keep looking at him.

  Instead, the whole courtroom watched as Yasmin fled out the door, the carved wood nearly slamming behind her as she made a grand exit.

  Inside Luke seethed.

  He'd done everything right. Dammit, everything.

  And because Sleaze wasn't done with him yet, he was stuck on the witness stand while she fled.

  Yasmin couldn't breathe.

  What the hell had just happened?

  The lawyer had just asked Luke if he'd made decisions about her safety based on the fact that he was in love with her.

  When he'd started squirming, she figured he realized she had feelings for him and didn't want to embarrass her in public. Or else he thought the line of questioning was so far out of the line of reality that he just stared at the defense lawyer like he was stupid.

  Then he said yes.

  She couldn't breathe. But she tried to walk around like she was a normal person. The L.A. County Courthouse had a paved central area for foot traffic . . . And food and coffee carts. She stepped up to one and ordered an iced fruit tea, just for something to do.

  While the man behind the cart poured hot water, steeped her fruit infusion and scooped up ice, she tapped her foot and tried to control her runaway thoughts.

  Luke had just destroyed her case.

  Well, the sleazy defense lawyer had found a weak point and yanked it wide open. If they thought there was no evidence of her danger and that she and Luke had just been getting it on this whole time then Homeo might walk free.

  She wondered how much it would count that her home had been shot up?

  Clearly there was a danger to her. But if she couldn't prove it was Homeo and Doddo who had shot her home then they wouldn't get convicted.

  It seemed like an eternity before the tea was ready, poured thick over ice pellets. She worried it in her grasp rather than drinking it.

  Surely the case would be saved by the other witness? The man at the grocery the first day who would say he'd seen Homeo and Doddo. He had successfully picked Homeo out of a lineup. Doddo, too. She repeated to herself that the case was safe.

  In a short time she had wandered the entire perimeter of the foot area. Any further and she'd have to cross a street. As silly as it sounded, she wasn't up for it. She was still under Luke's protection—his legal, paid for with a dollar and some lotto tickets protection. He wouldn't want her crossing the street.

  So she sat on one of the cement retaining walls that held back raised areas of grass, trees and the occasional flower and doubled as seating space. And she let herself wonder at what Luke had said.

  He was in love with her?

  It was crazy.

  And had to be a lie. Didn't it?

  Maybe it made sense in a way . . . Given the way he'd acted—as though she was nothing more than a project, a task to complete. It made some kind of logical sense that he had acted that way because she was his charge and he had feelings for her that he couldn't show . . . But it still blew her mind.

  It boggled the brain that she hadn't sensed any of it.

  She'd been pining away for him, telling herself that he wanted nothing to do with her that he was just a nice guy when it was all there.

  Finally, she took a sip of the cold tea and shed her sweater. It was one of those L.A. days that made people want to move here. Yasmin acknowledged that there was nothing that would have changed about her life, even if she had known about Luke.

  As he'd said, it was all about the case. That if Homeo didn't get convicted she might always be in danger from him. Nothing could happen between them because Homeo had to get convicted.

  While she sat and sipped at her tea, she reconciled what she knew. Luke couldn't even tell her how he felt. Doing so would compromise the case. It would bring questions to bear on all his decisions regarding her protection, regarding the threat the Del Surs posed.

  However stupid that idea was, in the end it really didn't matter, did it? Luke had done a stellar job of keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself. Well, while awake, he had. He'd been so professional that Yasmin, living with him, had no idea he had any feelings for her at all. But the lawyer had picked up on something. And put Luke on the stand to say so.

  She hoped it helped that Luke had acted nothing but professional. She hoped that it really mattered that Luke had been right. The Del Surs had shot up her home with her in it. A shudder involuntarily ran through her at the thought that Luke had saved her that night. Had he not thrown her to the ground, bullets might have taken her right out.

  But now the case was the case. They had to finish it.

  So Yasmin figured she couldn't say anything now. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him she loved him, too.

  Or maybe she'd ask first if he was serious? He had to be, didn't he? He couldn't lie on the stand.

  Her happy heart suffered a bit of a dive. Luke sure hadn't sounded too pleased regarding his feelings for her. If he was in love with her but didn't want to be, or if he found those sentiments to be a burden then it wasn't something she wanted a part of.

  She would have to ask him. Have to see what he said when the case was over. When it was just the two of them left standing. See if he meant it. See if he wanted it. If he really wanted her. Then she would decide if she should throw herself into his arms or slink off to cry for a month or two.

  A strange noise alerted her that her tea was empty and she looked down at the cup, a bit startled.

  With a sigh she looked up at the doors that led into the maze of corridors that housed all kinds of services for the public. She hadn't seen Luke or Jessica come out, but she hadn't been looking. Either of them should have seen her sitting here if they had come through those doors, though she wasn't sure that had been her intention. The DA might not recognize her right off the bat but . . . Yasmin figured they were still in session.

  Another deep breath, another attempt to get the last of her tea from around the ice and she gave up. Standing, Yasmin headed to the trash can then figured it was close to lunch time and she was getting hungry. She tossed the cup into a recycling bin and started off.

  Her thoughts remained on Luke as she headed across the open space. She wanted him to want her. Not to be put out by his feelings like it had sounded from the witness stand. He had looked pained in the telling of it, but Yasmin was trying not to judge. She couldn't say how she would have reacted had she been the one on the stand.

  The sunshine felt wonderful on her shoulders and—maybe just a little—began to make up for the turmoil that was her life. She wouldn't even contemplate what things would be like if Homeo walked free.

  Just as she thought that, she thought something else.

  She was outside, not paying attention.

  So lost in thought, she'd wandered away from any protection the building itself might offer. She was away from her champion, from the man paid to keep an eye on her. No one could have come after her without being held in contempt of court. She'd known it and she'd left anyway.

 

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