She found reasons to run into him every day that first week of his residency in their building—an easy enough feat, considering that they’d just gone into business partnership and there were a lot of decisions to make, regarding the order of tasks the old building needed them to complete.
All three of them agreed that the elevator was priority one. They wanted its historical value preserved but needed it to be dependable and safe. Liam knew which historic renovation company to hire and even obtained a quote at 40 percent off the going rate.
A day passed, then six, and still he hadn’t mentioned his father.
He’d written a couple of human interest stories, though. One regarding an incident that had happened that week outside a yoga studio close to their building, a near abduction. He’d heard the call on a new scanner he’d purchased, had been on the scene and had sold his story all within a matter of hours.
“I made a whole fifty dollars,” he’d told Gabi when she stopped up to see him after work the Monday following his move. He was brimming with something she’d never seen in him before.
Pride, maybe? Not that he’d ever been lacking in that department. But...this was different.
He wasn’t the same old Liam he’d always been. She loved the old Liam. He was family to her.
And yet, the difference was... Well, she didn’t know.
“I’ve been watching the site,” she told him, standing there in the arch between his kitchen and dining table, leaning on the wall. “Marie sent me the link. Your article’s the headliner.”
“Yeah, it’s had thousands of hits. But when it’s a hundred thousand I’ll get excited,” he told her. His grin was different, too. It made her stomach jump.
Shaking her head, Gabi asked him about the editor of the independent news site who’d published him, June Fryburg—a local woman he’d sold travel stories to in the past. She wasn’t making millions, but she was making a living. And she believed that if Liam turned his focus to human interest, with his ability to see inside the story to the honest emotions that made everything come alive, he could be the one who took her to the big leagues.
Gabrielle wanted to ask what was going on with his father. But she didn’t.
And he didn’t say. He’d never not said before.
Maybe that was why she didn’t just ask. She’d been awake in the middle of the night two nights that week—concerned about Liam. And glad that he was living upstairs.
It wasn’t until that Wednesday, when Marie called her at the office to tell her that someone from the FBI had just been in the coffee shop and asked to see Liam, that Gabrielle’s reticence ended. Finishing up with her last client—a divorced woman with three children who needed help with child custody enforcement—Gabi packed up for the day, slung her bulging soft-sided briefcase over her shoulder and locked her office door.
She didn’t stop to say goodbye to anyone and sped home as fast as Denver traffic allowed. She wanted to get to Liam before the agents left. To invoke his right to counsel, just in case. Liam tended to think that everything was going to be fine. He didn’t always take things as seriously as Gabrielle knew he should.
And...he was hers. Hers and Marie’s. They looked out for him whenever he was around. And now that they had him full-time again—for the first time in more than a decade—she felt...extra responsible. At least until he settled in.
Clearly his father hadn’t been pleased by the Arapahoe deal. That, mixed with Liam suddenly moving and not talking about the old man for the first time ever...
Once home, she opted not to wait for the as yet unfixed and very slow elevator in their building and took the stairs to Liam’s.
She knew she’d done the right thing—barging in on him uninvited like this—when Liam opened the door to her knock. He was white with shock and let her in without saying a word—not even asking how she’d known to be there. Heart thudding, she followed him to the living room, where a man and a woman, both dressed in dark pants with matching suit coats, sat on opposite ends of the sofa.
Liam introduced her by name. She added, “I’m an attorney.”
The female agent, introducing herself as Gwen Menard, and her associate as Mark Howard, showed her badge and looked at Liam. “You called your attorney?”
“No, he didn’t call me,” Gabrielle said before Liam could respond. “A...friend of ours...let me know you were here.”
The agents looked at each other. Shared a frown. And she realized, too late, that her sudden invasion made Liam look guilty.
“Gabi’s a friend of mine from college,” Liam said. “She and Marie—the woman you met in the coffee shop—live in the building. They’ve appointed themselves my guardian angels.” He shrugged, looking handsome, all male and as though having unsolicited attention from pretty women was all in a day’s living for him.
He stood with his back to the window, the sunlight behind him casting shadows on his face. A face other women fell for. In droves.
He had his hands in his pockets.
Something she’d long ago noticed he did when he was unsure of himself.
“So what’s going on?” She stepped forward and took a seat in the armchair opposite the agents, inviting herself into their gathering whether they wanted her there or not.
They looked at Liam. He looked back.
“You want her to stay, Mr. Connelly?”
She held her breath.
“Of course.”
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. Did he want her there because he knew something she didn’t and thought he might need her? Professionally?
Or was this just him sharing his private business with her again?
Years before, Liam had made some stupid, rebellious mistakes, but nothing even close to breaking the law. He was a man of integrity.
Gwen Menard had Gabrielle’s full attention when she started to speak.
“What can you tell us, Mr. Connelly, about the Grayson deal?”
“Nothing.”
“What do you know about it?” Agent Mark Howard addressed Liam with narrowed eyes.
“Nothing.”
“Is Liam in trouble?” Gabrielle had to ask.
“No,” Agent Menard said, directing a serious look at Gabrielle before returning her attention to Liam. “At least at this point we have no reason to believe he is.”
“Obstruction of justice is a crime,” Howard said, his gaze never leaving Liam. Probably watching for a reaction to his not so veiled threat. Gabrielle could have told him he was wasting his time, not only because she believed Liam wouldn’t have committed a crime, but because she’d never met anyone with as much skill at hiding his reaction to threats.
Liam had had a lifetime of practice. “He’s right, Liam,” she said, just in case he didn’t know that this threat was not empty. “If you know something about this Grayson deal, and it turns out to be illegal, and you didn’t say anything, you could be brought up on charges.”
He nodded, pulling his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms. Not in self-protection, but in a way that showed a confidence that was all Liam. “The Grayson deal is the Indian land,” he told her.
“I thought that sold to Senator Billingsley.”
“It did.”
Menard and Howard were looking at them intently.
Liam had been out of college by the time his father had gotten all of the agreements and changes he’d needed and actually purchased