Passion's Price

“I’m Attorney Darlene Cunningham, and you have no reason to keep me here. If you don’t let me pass, I’ll sue you, the city of Memphis and the state of Tennessee,” she said, her mild manner dissolving into anger.

His facial expression didn’t change one bit. Realizing that belligerence would get her nowhere with Detective Raines, she decided to switch tactics.

“You haven’t read me my rights, and you have to do that if I’m under arrest.” Her voice took on a taunting tone.

“You are not under arrest, Ms. Cunningham. You are being detained.”

She leaned her head to the side in what she knew he’d take as a challenge. “What’s the difference?” she said, clearly losing patience.

“Very funny, Ms. Cunningham, but you may as well have a seat, because you cannot leave this house until I say so.”

Darlene turned to the old man. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“My name is Boyd Farmer. Have a seat. At least it’s comfortable in here.”

“Is this guy your son? Oh, sorry,” she said before Boyd could respond. “You’re too nice to have such an arrogant, obnoxious son. I really need to go.”

“I’m sorry,” Boyd said. “He isn’t going to let you go.”

She whirled around and glared at Michael Raines, and for her trouble she felt a peculiar thudding in the region of her heart. “At least I deserve to know why I’m being detained,” she said. “What did I do?” Realizing that her tone would only make him more adamant, she switched tactics again. “You’re unlike any detective I’ve ever met.”

“What do you mean by that?” His tone was definitely not friendly.

“Oh,” she said, tossing her hair to the side. “I mean, aren’t police officers supposed to protect and serve?”

Boyd’s laughter filled the room, but she avoided looking in his direction. Instead she focused on Michael Raines.

“Yeah,” he said. “Now, sit down and let’s cut the comedy.”

Darlene did not like taking orders from a stranger, even one with a badge. She didn’t move. “You don’t look stupid,” she told him. “You have to tell me why you’re holding me here. It’s the law. Tell me why I’m being detained, or I’m leaving.” She tried to move past him.

He grabbed her shoulders and glared at her. “What are you doing here?”

She twisted her shoulders and moved away from him. “I’m trying to get information that I hope will help my client’s case.”

“You’ll have to prove that to me. This house has been under surveillance, and neither you nor anyone else can leave here. Get it?”

She’d have to come up with a different excuse. Getting back to her office in Maryland was paramount. The other partners already considered her trip to Memphis little more than a wild-goose chase, and if they discovered her present predicament… She didn’t want to think of their reaction.

“I have to get back to my hotel,” she said.

He folded his arms across his broad chest and smiled, giving evidence that he could be charming when it suited him. “Oh, so I gather you plan to leave Memphis.”

“No, as a matter of fact I’m staying at the Peabody,” she said.

“Really?” he said. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem for you to stay here.”

“Now, look here, you,” she said, with all the softness of a wildcat about to pounce. “You’re going to…” She stopped. His beautiful eyes twinkled like flashing lights, and she could see his difficulty in restraining his laughter.

“You’re not one bit funny, and I’ll have the last laugh.”

At that point, Boyd brought the tea along with a brioche and jam. “This should make you comfortable.” She thanked him. “Detective Raines doesn’t like tea, and I don’t have any more coffee,” he said.

“How long has he been here?” Darlene asked Boyd, pointing to Michael.

“He’s been here two weeks. That’s why I don’t have any more coffee. He’s practically a coffee addict.”

She took a few sips of tea and looked at Michael. “Coffee addict, eh? I’m glad to have at least some evidence that you’re human.”

Something akin to pain flickered in his eyes, and she wished she could retract her words. It wasn’t his fault that she’d stumbled into a house that was under surveillance. He was doing his job. Maybe if she appealed to his decency, he’d let her go.

“If I’m stuck here for any length of time, I’ll lose my case.” She told herself that she wouldn’t beg, but that had sounded very much like a plea. She observed him carefully to see his response.

“But how do I know you’ve told me the truth? You could be the person I’ve spent the last few weeks looking for.”

“Oh, come on,” she said, her attitude inching toward aggressiveness again. “Anybody can look at me and see that I’m not a burglar.”

He looked toward the ceiling as if begging for mercy. “Another statement like that and I’ll have proof that you’re not a lawyer.”

“I am, and I have to be in court Monday morning. If I don’t show up, I’ll be in contempt.”

“I can take care of that. Give me your client’s name and the case number. I’ll take care of the problem right now.”

“No, thank you. I don’t want any help from you.”

His quick shrug let her know what he thought of her response.

“You’re a heartless man.”

“If you say so.”

Darlene was already mad with herself. She decided to switch gears one more time, hoping that a different tactic might soften him up. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself for doing this to an innocent person,” she chided. “You could ruin my life.”

Boyd walked over to where Darlene and Michael stood at loggerheads. “Darlene… I hope you don’t mind if I call you Darlene. Wouldn’t you like to freshen up a bit? There’s a lovely guest room and bath upstairs, and if you’re going to be here for a while, you’re welcome to use it.”

She could see that Boyd wanted to lower the tension between them, so she smiled and patted his arm. “Thanks. That would be lovely.”

“Leave your pocketbook and that briefcase down here,” Michael said. “And don’t think you can use the phone up there. It’s been disconnected. On second thought, I’ll show you where the guest room is. Who knows what you’ll try to do?”

Darlene whirled around and headed for the stairs, intent upon finding the room herself, but he managed to move slightly ahead of her. “This way,” he said, turning left at the top of the stairs.

At the bedroom door, she tossed her head back, sending her hair flying around her face.

A grin spread over his face. “Don’t even think about it. That’s a thirty-foot drop. You’re clever enough to know that if you jumped, you’d hurt yourself. Besides, every window in this house is locked.”

Slouched against the doorjamb, Michael stared down at her. Then his gaze shifted from her eyes down to her lips and stayed there. His light brown eyes darkened. His nostrils flared, and he sucked in his breath.

“I don’t need you to chaperone me while I go to the bathroom,” she challenged.