Harris Family Cabin

Malibu, California

 

The nice thing about going on the run with a member of the Harris family was the number of empty homes he had access to. Mika’s family owned homes all over the West Coast, some as far away as Oregon, half a dozen in the Los Angeles area.

This little place in Malibu was a small cabin that his father sometimes used as a retreat to work on edits on the scripts he planned to direct. He hadn’t been there in months. The furniture was all covered with clothes, and the refrigerator was empty save a bottle of expensive champagne he’d left behind. But it was quiet and out of the way, the kind of place no one would think to look for them in.

Mika ran to a grocery store while Stevie removed the clothes, dust flying everywhere. She opened the back doors and let the wind blowing off the ocean take the dust away. She was a little shocked when she moved the clothes on Dean’s desk to find a picture of William. But it wasn’t just William. It was a family portrait she and Mika had taken when William was just a few weeks old.

She picked it up, remembering that day. They’d been so happy, the two of them. William wasn’t yet sleeping through the night, but Mika got up with her every time the baby woke, sitting on the couch beside her, his arms around her, whispering to the baby as she nursed him. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she caught sight of his lips often enough to know they were words of love.

Mika was such an amazing dad!

She carefully set the picture down, wondering why he hadn’t married again, why he hadn’t tried to make another family. He should have a little boy he could play baseball with, a little girl he could have tea parties with. He should be crawling around on the floor, chasing after toddlers instead of writing briefs and reviewing contracts every day. He should have the life they’d planned together instead of this emptiness he seemed to be living in now.

She wondered what had broken him and Tonya up. She seemed nice enough—until she ran her car through his front door, that is. Had he ever considered having a child with her?

The rumors she’d heard at the firm, were they true? Had he cheated on Tonya? Was that why they split? She couldn’t imagine Mika behaving that way. He’d always hated his mother for the affairs she had had during her marriage. His father always forgave her and insisted it was their problem to deal with. But Mika was scarred by it.

He never would have cheated on her.

Sometimes, when she was in New York teaching literature to overprivileged deaf children, she would think about the life she had left behind in California. She wondered what it would have been like if she’d stayed, if they’d had another child together. Sometimes she thought it would have been okay. Other times, it felt like a betrayal to William.

And then there were the times that she worried it might happen again.

The doctors assured them that the kind of cancer William had wasn’t genetic, that it was just a fluke of nature. They said that it was very rare for a couple to have two children with the same type of cancer. But they didn’t say anything about other kinds of cancer. Or other diseases. Children got sick all the time. Stevie wasn’t sure she could handle going through what she did with William again.

But looking at that picture on Dean’s desk made her wonder if maybe she’d let her fear, her grief, get in the way of something beautiful.

She caught a movement in the glass doors at the back of the room and spun around, relieved to see Mika walking through the front door. He had several plastic bags dangling from his fingers.

“Steaks,” he said, smiling as he held the bags up.

“Sounds good.”

She followed him into the kitchen and helped him put away milk and fruit purchased for breakfast, watching as he carefully removed the steaks from their white tray and set them in a bowl where he would marinate them. He opened a bottle of wine—something cheap but very sweet—sipping at his as he worked. She sat at the table, blushing a little when she thought of what they’d done on the table in his house. She watched him move, wondering if he was feeling better. Wondering if there would be a chance at a little romance later on.

The steaks in their marinade, he began chopping up potatoes, preparing to roast them with a few other vegetables and a medley of herbs and spices. She got up and joined him, silently taking up a clean knife and cutting up carrots and onions, the two of them working in some sort of harmony together.

She’d forgotten how nice this could be.

The vegetables cut, Mika slid them into the oven and switched on a Bluetooth speaker that he easily connected to his phone. He moved the speaker to the floor, allowing the vibrations of the music to reach her bare feet. His arms open, he mouthed, “Dance?”

She curtsied, a smile impossible to subdue on her lips. She moved into his arms and let him twirl her around the room as the lovely scent of the cooking vegetables slowly wafted around them. She couldn’t hear the music, but she could feel the beat. That was, until he lifted her up and set her on the edge of the counter.

“Do you remember that weekend we spent here?”

She blushed. “It wasn’t more than five months into our relationship. You stole the key from your dad’s office and drove us up here.”

“And we never left the bedroom.”

Her blush deepened. “I still think that’s when I got pregnant.”

He nodded, a light burning in his eye. “It was a good weekend.”

“Do you ever regret all that?”

“You mean you and William?”

She nodded, a trickle of fear running down her spine.

Mika touched the side of her face. “I could never regret the time you and I had together.” He stepped back slightly, raising his hands to switch to sign language for some reason. Maybe to make sure she didn’t miss a word he said. Losing William was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to survive, but losing you… He stopped, his hands stilling as his eyes fell to the floor for a moment. I never stopped believing we’d find each other again. I never stopped hoping you would come back because I knew we had something between us that I could never find with anyone else. And I knew you felt it too.

She touched his hands, needing the words to stop for a minute. She looked up at him, saw him blink away a few tears. It broke her heart.

I’m sorry.

He shook his head, covering her hand with his. Then he moved close, kissing her so softly that it physically hurt.

I love you. I’ve always loved you. I will always love you.

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. I don’t deserve it. Leaving you that way—

That’s the past now.

He kissed her again, and she sighed, reaching up to pull him closer, her hands moving over the back of his head. He tugged her hips close to his, moaning a little as she accidently put pressure against the bruises on his hips. Even as they were coming back together, they couldn’t get rid of the baggage that came with them.

They kissed for a long time, reverting to that time almost twelve years ago when they first met. They couldn’t seem to get enough of each other then, stealing kisses whenever they could. He was in college, and she was still a high school senior, but they found the time to be together. And it was incredible, each and every time, even when they could only steal a few minutes or spend the whole weekend together.

The smell of the roasting vegetables changed, and Mika cursed, rushing to the oven to pull them out. They were a little too crisp on one side, but still edible. He looked at her and laughed. For a brief second, she had a slight pang of regret that she couldn’t hear that laugh, or the sound of his voice. She imagined it was beautiful, deep and rich like a river of melted dark chocolate. But she’d never know.

Her phone buzzed as Mika stepped out on the back porch to light the grill. She took it out of her pocket, not surprised to see Andres was texting her.

Where are you?

She hesitated, not sure she wanted to be terribly specific. What if someone had bugged their phones or something? It was a little out of the realm of probability, but not completely insane.

Safe, she finally decided to text back.

Your house burned down.

Yes.

But you’re okay?

Yes.

She waited for his next text, a little surprised to find that he was concerned for her wellbeing. But then again, if she were to die or end up in the hospital, it wouldn’t look good for Mastiff.

Wren has a source that suggests SWA might release something tomorrow that will be a problem for you, Mr. Harris, and Mastiff. She wants you to come in for a conversation.

Mika walked back into the room just as that text arrived. She held out the phone to him to show him what it said.

He frowned. He’s going to release the warrant and blame it on me. Or you.

She nodded. That had been her first thought, too. Mika waved his hand in front of her face to get her attention.

Maybe we should release it first. That way we’ll have a little control over things.

Stevie wondered how that would help them. Any way the warrant got released, it would be bad for Spencer White and Associates. And the client. One would think that Spencer would fight against that as hard as he could. Unless, of course, he was going to blame her and Mastiff for the leak.

Was that why he’d hired Mastiff for his bogus witch hunt?

She began to pace, trying to understand what Spencer was up to. Someone had shot at Mika on the street. Someone had burned down her house. That someone was clearly trying to frighten them off or get them out of the way. She could believe that the shooter was only meant to scare Mika away. But why burn down her house? The laptop would have been in plain sight unless Mika had moved it while she was gone. Why not just take the laptop? Had they guessed that he’d made a paper copy of the warrant? But still, what did burning down her house prove?

He’s trying to make me look desperate.

Mika frowned. Who?

Spencer.

She went back to pacing, nodding to herself. It made sense. She was desperate to prove herself with this case, even going as far as to make a deal with him that she could complete it within five days without anyone else’s help. That alone would have revealed to him that she felt her position at Mastiff was precarious. Then, if he’d done even a minor amount of research on her, he would have discovered her father’s condition, the fact that his care was incredibly expensive, and she was currently fighting with the insurance company to pay more for his drugs and his round-the-clock care. The burning down of her house would just be the icing on the cake.

She would look, to the press, like a woman who was desperate to make money. He’d given her access to the files that held the warrant and dozens of other juicy details about his clients. He could just claim that she did it to get money from some tabloid.

What would happen to Spencer if the warrant got out, and it appeared he did it?

Mika didn’t hesitate. The law firm would be sued for malpractice, and he’d be disciplined by the State Bar.

She nodded. Unless he could prove someone else did it.

Mika clearly saw where she was going with this. If he proved someone else did it, the firm would still be sued, but he could settle for the amount the malpractice insurance would pay out, and he wouldn’t be sanctioned.

She could see now what was happening here. Mika was never the target. She was.