The Defender. Cara Summers

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      “Why?”

      She met his eyes very steadily. “I know that you recommended me for this case. But you can’t be pleased about the way it’s ended.”

      “Because you got the woman who was stalking me psychiatric treatment instead of jail time? I was hoping that you would do just that.”

      It was Sadie’s turn to study him. “She shot you.”

      Theo shrugged. “It wasn’t a fatal wound and she’s a very sick woman.” If he’d sensed the problem in time, he might have prevented it. “Jail time won’t help her. Mind if I ask a question?”

      “Go ahead.”

      “Why are you doing pro bono work for the public defender’s office? Don’t they keep you busy enough at Oliver Enterprises?” He thought he saw a shadow flicker into those brown eyes and he recalled the conversation she’d just had with this Michael.

      “I want the trial experience.” Then she extended her hand. “I have to go, but I want to thank you for the recommendation.”

      He took her hand in his. In that first instant of contact, they both went perfectly still. Theo was glad that he was still half-sitting on the railing because his knees went weak. It was at that moment he knew—the way he knew a lot of things—his path and Sadie’s were going to cross again.

      Theo drained the last of his glass and watched the sun disappear into the ocean. He’d been very careful not to go back and watch her in court again, but he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. Was it Sadie Oliver who was interfering with his ability to make a decision about the Los Angeles job? he wondered. Was she the cause of the restlessness that had been plaguing him lately?

      It was a long time before he got up from the dock and went back into the cabin.

      2

      GUNSHOTS? In a church? Could she have been mistaken? In the dim light of the vestibule, Sadie swallowed hard, reminded herself to breathe and took a cautious step toward the double doors leading into the church. She’d nearly reached them when she heard footsteps pounding in her direction.

      A man built like a linebacker exploded into the room. Her heart leaped to her throat and blocked her scream. He was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans; she made out the gun in his hand as he pounded up the circular wrought-iron staircase to the choir loft above. An instant later, another man burst through the doors. She recognized this one.

      “Roman?”

      When her brother whirled to face her, she saw that he was carrying a gun, too. “What’s going—”

      He grabbed her by the arm and shoved her into the shadows beneath the staircase. “Stay out of sight. Don’t let anyone know you’re here.”

      She’d barely processed the words when more shots sounded from inside the church. Even as terror streamed through her, another gunshot exploded overhead. Her ears were ringing with it as Roman took the stairs two at a time. She wanted to go after him, stop him, but fear had her pressing herself even deeper into the shadows. She did the only thing she could think of. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911.

      “Juliana, are you all right?” Roman shouted.

      Horror paralyzed Sadie, preventing her from speaking to the 911 operator. Had her sister been shot?

      Above her, she thought she heard someone—a man—answer, “Yes.”

      Roman spoke again, but she didn’t catch what he said because she was breathlessly giving the 911 operator the location.

      Overhead, she heard pounding footsteps and the sounds of a fight—thumps and muffled cries. Peering up through the circle of steps, she saw two figures locked tight in a fierce struggle at the top of the stairs before one of them pitched over the railing.

      It happened so fast. One minute he was falling…then she heard the sickening thud as the body smacked against the floor and she felt the shock of the impact beneath her feet. In the dim light, she saw his face. Roman. His eyes were closed, his body so still. Her heart simply stopped.

      She wanted to go to him, but her legs refused to work. Footsteps pounded down the steps and hit the floor running. Sadie registered the sounds, the blur of movement. In the light that entered the vestibule as the person pushed through the front doors, she recognized the man Roman had chased up the stairs. Blood streamed from his shoulder.

      All of those details registered; still, she couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was stare at her brother’s body on the ground. There was absolute silence in the church. Then the panic that had frozen her blasted free and galvanized her into action. Lunging out of the shadows, she cried out, “Juliana? Juliana, are you all right?”

      No answer.

      Her purse dropped unnoticed to the floor as she sank to her knees and pressed two fingers to her brother’s throat. There was a pulse—weak but steady. Running her other hand over his head, she felt the wet stickiness of blood. “Roman,” she murmured, leaning closer.

      His eyes fluttered open.

      “It’s Sadie. I’m right here.” She squeezed his hand. “Don’t move.”

      “Can’t…see…”

      “It’s all right. You fell.”

      His eyes closed again. “You’re in danger…get out.”

      “Where’s Juliana? What’s going on?”

      “Secret…wedding.”

      Sadie barely caught the words above the ragged sounds of his breathing. “Juliana…Paulo…Carlucci.”

      Juliana and Paulo Carlucci? No, that simply couldn’t be. The bad blood between the Oliver and Carlucci families went back generations, and the fact that Oliver Enterprises and Carlucci Ltd. were currently competing over a lucrative land deal involving a strip of Orange County coastline had brought that blood to the boiling point.

      If her baby sister had indeed planned a secret wedding to Paulo Carlucci and the news had leaked out… Fear knotted hard in her stomach. It had leaked out, hadn’t it? Roman had certainly gotten wind of it. And there’d been that man he’d been chasing. And those gunshots from inside the church.

      Another possibility had her blood going cold. Had her father found out about the wedding plans, too? Mario Oliver had a reputation for knowing everything. And who knows what he would have done to prevent his youngest daughter from marrying his enemy’s son.

      “…Wanted…to stop it…”

      She could all too easily imagine that Roman would have wanted to stop the wedding. They knew from watching their father that marriage was not an easy path, even in the best of circumstances. Their mother had died shortly after Juliana’s birth; Mario Oliver was on his third marriage. Sadie had a suspicion that Deanna Mancuso Oliver would not be his last. And Juliana was barely eighteen, Paulo perhaps a year or two older. They were babies. She squeezed her brother’s hand. “Don’t try to talk.”

      “Shot…Paulo.”

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