Defending Pacer, стр. 22

Pacer and I haven’t said much to each other after our discussion about Jackson. The mention of his name brought the mood to a serious low, the feeling amplified by the amazing night just spent together. My mind continues to tick over the little things Jackson has said and done. They all make more sense now. His spike in asshole comments increased when I was given Pacer’s case. Their hate for each other is something more than just Jackson wanting Pacer behind bars, for obvious reasons—Pacer being a murderer and all.

We pull into my street and Pacer pulls into the parking space four cars away from my front door.

“Call me as soon as you’ve finished the meeting?” His question definitely sounds rhetorical.

I lean across and kiss him on the lips. “Of course. Make sure you report to the police station before eleven.”

He rolls his eyes. What does he expect? I have to do my job. I won’t ever switch off from that.

As I get out of the car, Pacer catches my elbow. “Hey.” It forces me to turn back to him. “Promise me you’ll drop the Jackson Reed stuff, okay?”

I stare at him for a moment. I don’t want to lie to him, but I can’t stop now. “Okay.” It’s an abbreviated version of what he wants to hear … I can’t promise anything though.

He lets go of me, and I leave the car without looking back. I don’t want him seeing the truth in my lying eyes. I’m sure he knows as well as I do that I have no intention of stopping until I’ve uncovered all of Jackson’s dirty deeds. It’s in my blood, after all.

Briskly walking to my door, I check the time on my phone. It’s almost nine o’clock, and I’m late to meet with Larry, Don and Mick for their bacon and egg rolls. As I unlock my front door, I Google Lou’s cafe number and call it. Logan has slipped my document folder under the door with a note

He had better be one amazing fuck or else I think you’ve lost your mind.

After three rings, I instantly recognise Lou’s voice. “Lou’s …”

“Hi, Lou. It’s Chelsea. Can you make the bacon and egg rolls for the boys, please? I’m running late this morning so I’m going to have to miss my morning coffee. I’ll fix you up after work; is that okay?”

“Have you been a bit busy, love?”

From the tone of his voice, I’m sure he’s talking about the front page of last week’s newspaper.

“Yeah, big case.” I don’t want to engage in any more of this small talk. I have so much to do, so I end the call as quickly as I can. “Better go. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Righto.” I end the call and race up the stairs of my terrace, pulling my jeans and blouse off before reaching the bedroom

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

My meeting with Justice Nolan lasts all of ten minutes. I presented my case … and he had very little emotional response to it, as per usual.

He adjourned the matter for six months to review the evidence, and ordered Pacer’s ankle monitor to be removed, effective immediately. It’s not exactly what I wanted, but Pacer is still out of prison and his restrictions are being lifted again. It’s a good start, and it will give me the time I need to get the real war between Jackson and Pacer uncovered.

Nolan was surprised by the key pieces of evidence that were left out of the investigation. Just how deep is Jackson Reed? And what does Pacer know about it all? The heated warning he gave me has done nothing but rouse my intrigue into the situation. It’s like trying to stem a nosebleed in summer; once it starts, it’s hard to block again. I need to find out what is really behind Pacer’s warning.

Do I tell Dad about my theories on Jackson Reed? I can’t. He’ll just want to handle this the honest way. But from what I’ve learnt during the past couple of weeks, these types of things can only be dealt with a certain way—Pacer’s way.

It’s interesting—after all these years of fighting for the bad guys, they’re the ones who really do need the protection after all. If the city’s controlled by crooks like Jackson Reed, then what hope is there for truth and justice?

Walking through the frosted glass doors of my firm’s entrance, I feel as if there are eyes on me everywhere. I try to take as little notice as possible, and pull off my best attempt at acting normal.

The moment I get to Sienna, sitting at her desk, she dives out from her chair, grabs my arm and pulls me quickly into my office behind her desk.

“What’s going on, Chelsea? It’s all over every newspaper.” She points to the city’s entire catalogue of news publications, spread out across my desk.

I instantly recognise my outfit from yesterday and the seaplane I got into with Pacer. My heart feels as if it’s dropped into my stomach, and the blood has drained from my head.

My instant thought is what my Mum and Dad are going to say about it?

Slapping my hand to my mouth, I sink into my chair. Sienna, as quick-thinking as ever, flicks the blinds shut on my window to the office corridor.

One photograph shows Pacer’s hand on my ass as I get into the seaplane, and the smaller insert is of us laughing in the back of the plane’s cabin—headphones on and looking adoringly at one another.

“Fuck!” I whisper loudly.

“Yeah, fuck alright. How was your meeting with Nolan? Do you think he saw this?” Sienna’s wide stare is a mix of interest and concern.

I shake my head. “No. Pacer’s case is adjourned until the end of the year. Plus, I know Nolan never reads the papers.”

I stop myself from telling Sienna how I know this about Justice Nolan. He’s played golf with my Dad for about fifteen years. Dad’s always told me what his assessment on people is, especially his old colleagues. He profiles all of them, and spends the rest of his friendship analysing every little thing about their personality, no matter who they are. I don’t think he’d ever breathe a word to another soul, including Mum, about this, but our conversations with one another are different. We’ve always been each other’s soundboard, for as long as I can remember. Mum told me he used to lean over my bassinette when I was a baby, telling me all about his day and his thoughts. I wish I could trust Dad with this, and it’s the first time in my life I haven’t been honest with him. But this time it’s different. Pacer is the game-changer.

Knowing how much Dad studies people, I have to work fast on Jackson Reed. If my Dad starts to dig, I’m out of the race. Dad knows people better than I do. It’s how he became the best judge in the country.

I may have fooled him before, but he will see through anything I say about my relationship with Pacer after these photos.

“What ever you do, do not allow my father to come in here.” I pause. How much do I tell her about Jackson? “You have to do me a really big favour. The biggest thing I’ve ever asked of you.” She nods for me to continue talking. I’m sure she trusts me. But do you ever really know? “You have to keep Jackson Reed well away from me, but be tactful. He can’t know that I’m avoiding him. There are things I’m going to ask you to do for me, which won’t make much sense. But you have to trust me. And I promise I’ll tell you everything as soon as it’s all over.”

Her eyes grow wider. This time they’re filled with fear. “Are you in trouble with this Pacer guy?” She puts her hand over mine on the desk.

I shake my head. “No. Total opposite. He’s in trouble, and I really need to help him. Please keep your eye on everything … and trust no one.”

“Is everything okay, Chelsea? None of this sounds good.”

“It’s not. But the less you know, the less you’ll be in danger.”

“Danger?”

Shit! I don’t want her panicking.

“Danger was a poor choice of phrase. It’s just going to make things easier for you if you don’t know anything.”