been sixteen years old, and he’d charged inside the cabin and fought with a man twice his age and size without hesitating.
In my head, in my heart, Aiden Devlin had been my knight in shining denim from that very second.
Whether or not he now wore an orange jumpsuit. What I was going to do with that information, I had no idea. “I understand you’re worried,” I said, wanting to placate my sisters.
Donna eyed me. “But?”
Yeah. But. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. First thing the next day, I was absolutely going to figure everything I could out about his case and the charges against him. Whether or not I was the person supposed to put him away.
Chapter 6
Friday morning dawned slightly gray and misty, but the nightmares had left me alone the entire night. It might be because Tessa had stayed over, and she kicked like a purple belt. Tess had always been a kicker. I left her lightly snoring in my bed after dressing in a flowered skirt with white dress shirt and navy-blue jacket, also known as my ‘facing the world’ outfit. The yellow, red, and navy shoes added even more spunk, and by the time I’d driven across town and parked, I was more than ready to face the day.
I couldn’t decide anything about Aiden until I read the complete case file on him, so at least I had a plan of attack. Since Scot was no doubt out of the office and probably still in DEA custody, there wasn’t anybody to prevent me from investigating.
I walked into my office and ran smack dab into a seriously hard male body dressed in a way too fancy suit for Timber City. He grasped my arms to keep me from falling, and I looked up into deep brown eyes.
He released me and took my hand in his. “Nick Basanelli.”
Yeah. I knew his name. My Italian heritage sat up and sang O Sole Mio. I had to clear my throat to speak. “Hi. Anna Albertini.”
“Anna Albertini, the youngest of the Albertini three.” His gaze seemed to delve right past my designer armor and into the floundering lawyer I was. I remembered him. He was my sister Donna’s age and had been the biggest football star to ever come out of our small high school.
I cleared my throat. “Are you looking for me?” Why was Nick Basanelli in my office?
“Absolutely.” His tone held a warmth that was contagious. He kept my hand in his much larger one as we studied each other. He had true Italian black hair over tawny brown eyes that more than hinted at strength and ambition. His face was strong and straight, his jawline formidable, even with the sweet dimple in the middle of his chin. He filled out his expertly cut suit with a muscled edginess. Yeah. Basanelli had grown up nice. Really nice. “I’ve already talked to the other attorneys and will speak with staff at a meeting later.”
I frowned and edged around my desk, feeling somewhat more in control with the heavy oak between us. “About what?”
He gestured toward my seat, and I sat. Then he sat. Ah, his mama would be happy with his manners. “The governor appointed me as the county’s prosecuting attorney while Scot Peterson is on…leave.”
I blinked. “You’re a lawyer?”
“Yes. Was in the JAG Corps and then private practice in Boise. Now it looks like I practice criminal law on the state level.” He smiled, small lines crinkling at the corners of his intelligent eyes.
Man, I bet juries loved this guy. He’d been in the military? Interesting choice for one of the wild Basanelli boys. Yet our small department seemed like a step down for him. Unless—it was just another step. Military experience, private practice experience, and now criminal law with what looked to be a big case? “Planning to run for office, are you?” I blurted out. Our state attorney general was definitely getting up there in age, and a high-profile drug case could make or break a career.
Nick’s eyebrows rose. Those bourbon colored eyes narrowed and then twinkled. “I’d heard you were smart.”
Pleasure filtered through me, and I bashed it away. Smart girls weren’t so easily charmed. “I haven’t heard much about you.”
His smile was full-on this time. “I’m sure you can change that fact with one phone call.”
I couldn’t help but return the grin, because he was correct. One call to one of my grandmothers, and I’d know everything about Nick Basanelli to the point of his