Jana DeLeon - The Accused

He ran his hand across her hips and pushed his body more tightly into hers.

Then suddenly his entire body tensed. She looked up at him, but as she opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, he laid a single finger across her lips. Immediately her pulse spiked.

He slipped out of bed and pulled on his jeans and shirt, then retrieved his pistol from the nightstand, where he’d left it earlier. “Stay here and lock the door behind me,” he whispered before slipping silently out of the room.

Alaina hurried to the door as quickly as she could without noise. Carter had already disappeared downstairs in the darkness. She strained to make out any sound, but all she heard was her own heartbeat. She knew Carter had heard something, though. He’d gone from erotic god to cop in a split second.

JANA D E LEONgrew up among the bayous and small towns of southwest Louisiana. She’s never actually found a dead body or seen a ghost, but she’s still hoping. Jana started writing in 2001—she focuses on murderous plots set deep in the Louisiana bayous. By day she writes very boring technical manuals for a software company in Dallas. Visit Jana on her website, www.janadeleon.com.

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To Christopher Fulbright, for all your support

and encouragement. May your own career

launch in a spectacular way.

Once upon a time, in a tiny bayou village, there lived a beautiful widow and her three lovely daughters. The woman loved her children and her home, but as time passed, she grew lonely. A handsome and treacherous stranger swept her off her feet and she became a bride for the second time .

But no happily ever after was forthcoming .

Alaina LeBeau stared across the desk at the senior partner of the law firm and struggled to contain her emotions. Finally, anger eclipsed common sense.

“You told me if I got my success rate up, the junior partnership was mine,” she said. It was all she could do not to scream at the news that Kurt “Kip” McGraw, an attorney of woefully less skill and somewhat dubious personal reputation, had gotten the partnership she’d been all but assured.

Everett Winstrom III gave her a placating smile. “Now, now. I didn’t say it was yours for certain. I merely said if you proved yourself a winner in the courtroom that I felt a partnership would be forthcoming, and I still think one is.”

“When would that be exactly? The company is structured to only add a new partner when an existing one retires. All the original partners have been replaced with younger attorneys. It may be twenty years before one of you retires.”

“In twenty years, you’ll still be a young woman.”

“In twenty years, Kurt will be even younger than I, and likely, still as incompetent.”

The senior partner gave her another thin, placating smile. “Now, Alaina, you know that the courtroom isn’t the only place an attorney makes a good impression on the partners. Kurt has political connections that the firm can take advantage of.”

“Based on the news reports and the number of drunk-and-disorderly dismissals we’ve gained for his political connections, I would guess anyone could take advantage of them.”

Everett’s jaw tightened and the jovial-uncle act was over. “The fact is, we can’t afford to have you as a partner of this firm. Not after the Warren fiasco.”

Alaina felt as if she’d been slapped. As if she didn’t feel guilty enough over that case, and now the man who’d been her senior adviser was putting all the blame on her?

“I see,” she said. “The firm needs a scapegoat and it’s not going to be you.”

“Did you really think it would be? Someone has to answer for that screwup.”

“A child died, Everett. That was far more than a screwup. You can put the blame on me all you want, but we both know we could have prevented what happened.”

Anger flashed in the partner’s cold, dark eyes. “Nonsense. A psychopath killed that child. That’s unfortunate, but it’s hardly my fault. You were lead. If there was something missed, that’s on you.”

Suddenly, Alaina couldn’t take another minute of it. The years of busting her butt through law school while working full-time had been small challenge compared to the years of sucking up to these pompous, entitled men who’d never worked for anything other than a more luxurious life.

“Consider this my notice,” she said before she could change her mind.

Everett’s eyes widened. “Now, let’s not be hasty.”

“It’s something I should have done years ago. I’d hardly call that hasty. In fact, I’d call it a little late in coming. So late that I might have ruined any chance I had at a big career.”

“But you’re in the middle of three corruption cases—”

“No. You’re in the middle of three corruption cases. I’m just assisting.” As usual, she had been assigned to the anal-retentive detail work of sorting through all the financial information—work that everyone avoided if at all possible and work that she caught far too often. With Everett’s analyst on maternity leave, and her giving notice, he’d have no choice but to actually do grunt work for a change.

That thought gave her the sliver of joy that was necessary to smile and stand her ground. “I wish I could say it’s been great, Everett, but the reality is, this job has shown me what I don’t want to do with the rest of my life. I’ll spend the next two weeks completing the paperwork on the cases I’ve just closed.”

His face flushed red and he clenched his hands. “Don’t bother. Get your things and get out of this office. I’ll mail your final paycheck. You’re making a big mistake.”

“It’s not the first.”

She spun around and marched down the hall to her office before he could formulate a reply. A couple of seconds later, she heard the door to his office slam shut. The firm intern, a studious, humorless girl with an encyclopedic recall of law, stepped into her office, her eyes wide.

“Is everything okay, Ms. LeBeau?”

“Everything is perfect, Ms. Jensen. In fact, better than perfect. I’ve just given my notice.”

“Oh, my … I … Well, if that’s what you want to do, then I’m happy for you, of course.” Emily Jensen stared down at the floor. “I guess you didn’t get the partnership.”

“No, they gave it to Kurt.”

Emily sighed and glanced out into the hallway, then back at Alaina. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “I don’t think that’s right.”

“If you mean, the person with the most ability didn’t get the job, then I agree. But the reality is, it’s their law firm and Kurt has connections I’ll never have. Better to find out now than spend another seven years here.”