Suspect Passions by V. K. Powell Page B

information would be on her desk first thing in the morning, Regan fished her cell phone from her briefcase and headed toward the elevator. As she waited for the door to open, she punched in the number she’d memorized the day she received it. This was not a conversation she wanted to have but knew in her gut she had to. Her call was answered almost immediately. She chose a guarded tone when she really wanted to blurt the news and be done with it.
    “We need to talk…no, not there, somewhere more private.”

    *

    Syd teetered on the four-inch-wide rock parapet that encircled her penthouse and enjoyed the surge of energy that accompanied this gravity-defying feat. The idea of cheating death while skimming the perimeter of her third-floor residence had helped sell her on the place. Granted, she probably wouldn’t die from such a fall, but the odds of a soft landing weren’t great. Still, it brought the adrenaline highs of the job home and within her control.
    She wobbled precariously above unsuspecting pedestrians, doubting if any of them felt half as alive as she did at this moment. She doubted if most people found it necessary to go to such extremes to feel an emotional connection with their own bodies. Why was it so hard for her?
    She remembered growing up in the warm Southern hospitality of Atlanta. While her parents hadn’t been overly affectionate, Syd had always known she was loved and had felt connected to them and her brothers. They seldom discussed their emotions, but family activities that centered on teamwork and challenge had bonded them together. She felt supported and encouraged to experiment, within the parameters set by her mother. But when Syd went to college, she branched out and tested her own boundaries. Lovers became the new “activities” of her life and she engaged her feelings based on the circumstances. It seemed pointless to give her heart to someone she knew wasn’t the right one. Until now she had always drawn the emotional line.
    But since the shooting, Syd’s ability to connect on a personal level had seemingly been surgically removed. When that bullet left the barrel of her Glock, it took a piece of her soul and she’d been unable to reconnect with it. Tina had been her lover for a few months when it happened, and until that day Syd had allowed herself to think they had a chance at a long-term relationship. Or maybe she was just still in lust. When Syd was placed on administrative leave, Tina started making demands about moving in, taking care of her, and seeing a counselor to keep their relationship on track. The pressure was too great and Syd bolted.
    She tiptoed to the end of the parapet, jumped in the air, pivoted, and started back in the opposite direction. If she was honest, she’d have to admit that no one had really aroused her interest until Regan. But that was before she’d found out about her past in Nashville.
    There was something compelling about the woman who pushed all her buttons, but Syd couldn’t forget that her career rested firmly in the hands of an attorney who’d lost a case just like hers. Last night she’d been determined to report her findings to Terry Blair and demand that Regan be taken off her case. But she didn’t actually want to believe the worst about Regan and she didn’t want her replaced. She simply wanted to understand what happened.
    Her thoughts returned to their near kiss in the conference room: the silky softness of Regan’s face between her hands and her hot breath mingling with her own. A sharp stab of desire rattled Syd and she momentarily lost her footing on the wall, tilting sideways over the street.
    “I assume this note on the door was for me.” Regan entered the loft waving a piece of paper in her hand. When she saw Syd dangling over the wall, she stopped mid-step and clutched the note to her chest. “Dear God, will you come down from there?”
    Syd regained her balance and jumped from the wall, landing directly in front of her