Steal My Heart

Chapter 3

SOMETIMES IT seemed like nothing would go right. Hilliard was grungy and desperately needed a shower, but Brian was having trouble getting the new water heater installed. As of the last report, he thought he was getting close, which Hilliard hoped was the case. To prevent himself from hovering, he went upstairs to go through more of Aunt Grace’s things and add more items to donate to the sale. He even managed to get his office set up, at least rudimentarily. With a place to sit and the window open, he logged on to his computer and accessed some of the legal websites he subscribed to.

It wasn’t difficult to find information on Brian’s case and even access the court records, since they had been digitized. The more he read, the more his blood boiled. Without thinking, he pulled over a pad and began making notes of items that seemed mishandled. It was fairly easy to see that Brian’s defense had been minimal at best, and at worst, the lawyer was incompetent. Questions piled up as he read and wrote, but one thing was clear: Brian should definitely appeal his conviction. While Hilliard had wanted to believe Brian last night, everything he read now reinforced that he was right. Brian had been railroaded in a huge way, and he was still paying for it.

“Hill,” Brian called up the stairs, “you have hot water.”

Thank goodness. “That’s great.”

“I’m going to start on the steps,” Brian said as Hilliard locked his computer out of habit and stood to head down the stairs. “They should take a few hours.”

“Good. I was wondering if you could give me a quote for some additional work. I need the outside painted, and I need the wallpaper in the dining room stripped and the walls prepped for paint… along with the living room.” The town had a lot of ordinances regarding the maintenance of properties in Mendocino, and he did not want to be ticketed or get on the bad side of any of the powers that be.

“I can do that,” Brian said with a relieved smile. “Let me take some measurements when I’m done and I can work up an estimate. I have the equipment to spray the exterior, so that won’t take long. What color were you thinking?”

“Aunt Grace painted the house butter yellow, and I like it, so I was thinking of keeping it the same color, just freshening it up.” He snapped his fingers. “Also add a quote to paint the fence white.” That should take care of the outside, especially once he got the garden under control.

Brian nodded and swallowed. “You know you don’t have to do this because you’re feeling sorry for me or anything.” He wrung his hands. “I know what I told you last night, but you don’t need to—”

Hilliard shook his head. “I don’t. I have had lots of clients in my career. Some have been innocent, and others have been guilty as sin. I’m too jaded to do things like spend my money because I feel sorry for someone. I’m doing this because I need to get the house up to snuff, regardless of whether I stay, and you do good work.” He knew himself well enough to be honest.

Brian looked beaten down for a second before his mask of civility fell back into place. “Well, okay, then. I’ll put everything together tonight.”

“Excellent. Maybe we can meet at the pub for breakfast to go over what you have, and then we can plan things going forward.” He wasn’t ready to tell Brian what he had found about his case. He wanted to see if he could get more information and develop a plan of his own, because as Brian had been convicted, it wasn’t as simple as just poking holes. He needed to find solid evidence to present to the court and ideally figure out who had actually committed the crime. He also didn’t want to give Brian hope if he couldn’t deliver. The sadness that filled Brian’s eyes when he thought Hilliard wasn’t looking… it tugged at his heart. He wanted to do something about it, but he couldn’t give Brian false hope.

“Okay. I can do that.”

“Eight, then,” Hilliard offered, and Brian agreed. “Then I’ll let you get back to work.” It seemed he had plenty more to do himself. House chores were not his favorite thing, but digging into a legal mystery? That really got his heart pumping. So once Brian left to get started, Hilliard put off his shower and practically bounded back upstairs to research procedures in California, as well as try to figure out what he would need to do to have a chance to overturn Brian’s conviction.

HILLIARD YAWNED as he descended the sturdy new steps in front of the house. He strode toward the business portion of the village as he pulled on a sweatshirt to ward off the cool, damp air. Not much had changed since his visits years ago. The town still looked like something out of a different time. The homes all had a feel of having been there for decades, and some of the buildings looked like they would be more at home in a Maine whaling village than California. Aunt Grace used to tell him stories of when episodes of Murder, She Wrote were filmed in town. She had even gotten a part as an extra, so she always said she was also a resident of Cabot Cove.

Hilliard entered the pub and waited a few minutes for Brian before the hostess led them out to the covered patio area at the side of the building. “Did you walk down?” Brian asked. “The dogs saw me leaving and had a fit that I wasn’t taking them along.”

“I can just imagine.” Brian looked amazing in tight chinos and a blue polo shirt that hugged his work-hardened chest. The man was a walking wet dream as far as Hilliard was concerned, and he lost his train of thought for a few seconds, simply staring at Brian like some sort of idiot.

“Yeah. They made such a ruckus that they woke Gran. I thought about bringing them with me, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to sit outside on a day like today,” Brian went on, and thankfully Hilliard was able to pull his attention back where it should be.

“I like being outside and the fresh air. Even if the clouds are in and it’s a little windy and damp.” The marine layer had settled in thick over the town. “You could have brought the dogs. It would have been okay.” He was coming to like them. They were loud sometimes, but that was because they were excited, and there were worse things than dogs being excited to see him. Hilliard picked up a menu from the center of the table. “I’ve never been here before.”

“They have great omelets,” Brian said and set down his menu. When the server returned, he ordered. Hilliard picked one with bacon and ham. “I thought I’d review the estimates. Painting the house is mostly some prep work, removing loose paint, and then taping off the windows and such. I can do that on a day when the sun is out and there isn’t too much wind.” He had an estimate that Hilliard found reasonable. “We can get the prep done ahead of time and then paint once the weather is right. I’ll prep the steps at the same time. The fence is another issue. I’m going to need to replace some posts and crosspieces. There are places where the damp has gotten in. That will take some work, but then we can spray that as well and get it looking good.”

He had estimates for all of it and had factored in Hilliard buying the paint. The wallpaper estimate surprised him. “What’s this?”

“The wallpaper is from the fifties or sixties, and it’s going to take time to get it off, wash down the walls of residual adhesive, and then sand and paint. This is a best guess. It could be more or less. And there is the possibility of asbestos in a house this old.”

All the estimates seemed like they were possible. What Hilliard needed to do was take stock of his funds on hand and make some decisions about what he was going to do with his life. Going back to Cleveland was not particularly attractive. He would have money coming when his ex-asshole bought him out of their partnership, but he would need that to start up something new.

“Let’s go ahead and start with the outside. Those tasks need to be done because they’re visible. The painting inside we can see about once the rest is done.” He initialed the estimates that he was ready to go ahead with. “Now, I have something else I need to speak with you about.” He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject, because while Brian had told him about his past, he hadn’t gone any further. “I looked into what happened.”

“I see,” Brian said, and Hilliard wasn’t sure if he was going to be angry or not.

“I told you I had already looked into your background. It’s a lawyer thing. We see people with plenty of issues, legal and otherwise, so we become super anal about knowing who we’re dealing with. Anyway… whoever handled your case did not do a good job. We could appeal the conviction on a number of grounds, including inadequate representation, but if you want, I think we should look at this from another point of view.”

“That I’m out of prison and should just get on with my life,” Brian said flatly.

If that was what he wanted, Hilliard would certainly keep out of it.

“That’s what Gran told me. She says she knows I didn’t do it and worries that if I stir it all up again, I’m only going to have a harder time.” He sighed softly.

“You’re welcome to do that and just move on. There is no shame in that sort of plan, and looking forward is always best. I tell my clients that all the time. But I believe you didn’t do it, and the police simply looked no further once they had you in their sights.”

Brian leaned closer. “What do you suggest?”

“Well, first, we follow some logic. If you didn’t rob that house, then who did?” He held Brian’s confused gaze. Digging into the case had answered some questions for him, including why Violet Trainer had acted the way she did. He was pretty sure she was the one who kept the town stirred up against Brian.

The server brought their food, but Brian didn’t touch his. “Please eat,” Hilliard said gently. He knew these sorts of sessions were stressful and that Brian was reliving a very painful time in his life. “How we go forward is up to you.”

Brian sat still, and those huge eyes seemed to be searching for something. Hilliard felt their heat on him, but he refused to glance away. If Brian wanted his help, he’d be there for him. And if he wanted to walk away, then he’d abide by those wishes as well. “I don’t know what to think. Maybe it’s best to just let the past stay there.”

Hilliard nodded. “Except is it really staying there?” he asked, and Brian shook his head.

“No. It seems to be all that anyone here talks about. Gran won’t hear anything against me, and I love her for that, but….”

“You have other people in your corner. At least Ruth seemed to be,” Hilliard said.

Brian half smiled and nodded. “She and Gran have been friends for years. When Gramps died and I was accused, Ruth stepped in to help Gran. While I was away, she was one who checked on Gran, and she even wrote me letters to let me know how Gran was doing.” He swallowed hard, and Hilliard found himself aching to wipe that sadness off Brian’s face. He seemed so beaten down, and Hilliard could tell he hadn’t always been that way.

“The decision is yours,” Hilliard said as he finally lowered his gaze and began eating the amazing breakfast. He refused to push Brian into anything, even though he was itching to get involved. It would give him something to sink his teeth into.

“Thanks,” Brian said softly as Hilliard’s phone dinged. He checked the message and cringed. “You okay?”

“My ex.” Hilliard snatched up the phone and sent a reply to his message about a case they had been working on. He took a second and then replied with the answer, because he wasn’t going to let Alan screw over the client. And then, to be a dick—but it felt good—he asked him where the money was from Alan’s buyout of the firm. Then he muted the phone and set it screen down on the table so he wouldn’t be tempted to look at the rant that was sure to follow. “He’s a real ass.”

His phone vibrated. Hilliard knew he shouldn’t look, but he peered at the response. Check your bank account. Then the asshole sent a smiley face followed by a tombstone. Hilliard growled and knew he needed to take the same advice he gave his clients and let the past stay there, but he was still hurting—more than he wanted to admit to anyone, including himself. He ground his teeth, tempted to respond, but he shoved his phone in his pocket instead.

“I don’t know what I ever saw in him,” Hilliard muttered to himself, refusing to try to figure it out now. He had more important things to do than a postmortem on a disastrous relationship.

“Sorry,” Brian said softly.

Hilliard shrugged. He had had plenty of difficult relationships, so why should he expect anything different from Alan? The truth was, he often wondered if he had some kind of loser magnet in his ass. He always seemed to attract one kind of guy. He thought Alan had been different, but nope. It had only taken a little longer for his inner loser to come out. “Thanks. I know I’m better off without him.” He took another bite of his omelet and pasted on a smile. He didn’t want his ex to ruin the morning.

“Did you come to visit a lot when you were a kid?” Brian asked.

Hilliard was grateful for the distraction. “A few times, mostly with my mom to see Aunt Grace. Dad usually had to work, and he’d stay in Cleveland while we came out here. The town hasn’t changed very much, as far as I can see.”

“What was your aunt like? I remember her as a nice lady.”

“She was so cool. I remember her taking me to Glass Beach for sea glass and then taking me back to the house, where she showed me how to use the glass to make things. At the time, I made necklaces for some of my friends. When it wasn’t foggy, she took me to the cliff so we could watch the sunset, and then as we walked through town, she told me stories about the people here. She showed me where Chinatown used to be and showed me pictures of the old windmills and stuff. One of her friends had one of the water towers on his property, and I got to climb up and look inside. It was empty, but I could see the entire town from up there.” Some of the tension that he’d been carrying for weeks started to slip away. It was like walking down a happy, pleasant memory lane. “Aunt Grace pointed out one of the buildings that she and the ladies at the historical society were trying to save from being torn down. They were really having a fight back then, and I told her when I grew up I’d be a lawyer and fight for people like her.”

“What did she say to that?” Brian asked.

“Aunt Grace smiled and said she thought I’d be a good one. Then we climbed down and she took me to lunch.” Hilliard sighed. “The thing is, I didn’t even know that she remembered me. I hadn’t seen her in quite a few years. I always figured that she would leave the house and stuff to my uncle. He’s a much closer relative.” Still, he was grateful to her every day.

“Sometimes we don’t know what’s going on in someone’s mind. I get smiles from people all the time, and yet I know that behind my back, they’re saying things about me and whispering.” Brian sipped from his mug of coffee and set it down on the table. “I’ve really been trying to figure out why you’ve been so good to me. You didn’t doubt me when others certainly have, and you’ve even offered to help me. I’m just not sure what I should do. Maybe it’s best if I let sleeping dogs lie. At least that’s where my head is right now.”

“That’s fine. You need to do whatever you feel is best for you.”

“But I appreciate that fact that you care,” Brian added.

Hilliard wanted to take his hand, but he wasn’t sure if he should. Instead, he met those warm eyes with his gaze. Warmth raced through Hilliard. Something about Brian got his motor running, and it wasn’t the fact that he had been treated badly. It wasn’t pity. Hilliard liked to think that it was the fact that Brian had endured and found the inner strength to move on regardless of what people thought about him. And that was sexy as all hell, as far as he was concerned.