office suite opening and closing.
She was sure she’d locked it after Tamara left. Then, a soft knock
before her office door opened.
Diana looked up through her tears at the man
who stood in the doorway. Handsome seemed a trivial
adjective. He wore an open leather jacket over a black western
shirt. Her eyes dried as they met his─startling gray-hazel in a tan
face. A massive turquoise belt buckle topped tight jeans, pulling
her eyes to a place below that made the color rise in her cheeks.
She willed her eyes back up toward his face.
Before she could stammer a word, he said, “I
called earlier. I’m Darren Rogart.”
Chapter 7
“Calling first doesn’t give you the right to
barge into my office.” Anger mounted in Diana, fresh from the phone
conversation with her mother, augmented by the audacity of the
man.
“I’m sorry,” he said. His eyes left hers and
traveled around the room, much as Joe Flannigan’s had on his first
visit, taking in the wildlife art on the walls. “When I didn’t hear
back from you, I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You should have waited, Mr. Rogart. My
return call would have informed you that this meeting … this
conversation is not appropriate.”
He ignored her words as he proceeded into the
room and took a seat across from her. Diana noticed that his dark
hair had a generous sprinkling of silver─premature, from the look
of his face.
“Are you listening to me, Mr. Rogart? You
must leave immediately.” Diana aimed for her ball-busting bitch
voice, but what really came out diluted her message.
Rogart looked down, shook his head slightly,
and she saw a faint, lopsided smile tweak his lips. “When you’re
desperate, you do whatever it takes.” Looking back at her with that
same intense glance that she was starting to find disconcerting, he
continued, “My children are in danger, and no one is listening to
me. I hoped you’d be different.”
“I represent your father-in-law. You’re aware
of that. I can’t talk to you. You need to get your own
attorney.”
He sighed deeply. Diana watched his shoulders
sag; then square up as he arose from the chair. “You’re right,” he
said. “I apologize.”
As he retraced his steps, Diana got up and
followed him. He turned back toward her and appeared on the verge
of saying something. Then his glance fixed on the eagle painting by
the door. “I think I know how they feel.” His voice was a husky
whisper.
“What do you mean?” she couldn’t resist
asking.
“So close to extinction.” The wispy smile
made his face appear sadder.
“They’re protected,” countered Diana.
As they proceeded into the dimly lit
reception area, she heard a sound escape his lips. Then he turned
back toward her, sober-faced, and said, “There are some things laws
can’t protect against.”
She remembered Jess’s revelation: this man
was a poacher who had done time. “You should know,” she replied
recklessly.
The look that crossed his face made her
regret the words, especially in such a vulnerable setting─after
hours, empty building.
But when he spoke, there was no anger in his
voice. It was as if he didn’t connect her words with his past. “My
wife was molested as a child. The law couldn’t protect her. Now the
same man has my daughter. Somebody’s gotta do something.”
“Mr. Rogart─”
“I know. We can’t have this conversation.
Just give it some thought … Diana … before you write me off as some
nutcase.” He paused in the doorway; then looked back at the eagle
painting and shook his head.
Before she could comment, he was out the
door. Out of sight. She heard his boots clicking a measured beat
down the hallway.
Diana. In her head she heard his voice
speaking her name, stirring something she didn’t want stirred. Diana.
She slammed the door, threw the deadbolt in
place, and then walked back to her desk. As she passed the eagle
painting, Diana saw Rogart’s eyes in its