Fatal Judgment

by Irene Hannon

  Cole arched an eyebrow. “Touchy, aren’t we?”

  “It’s been a very long, unpleasant night.”

  “Yeah.” Cole’s levity faded as the muffled sound of a shower joined the muted voices of the marshals conversing in the kitchen. “The judge looks like she’s operating on fumes.”

  “I’d say that’s an accurate assessment. So where are you with the investigation, and what do you need to talk to me about?”

  “Assuming the husband has an alibi, the robbery motive isn’t working for me, even though some jewelry is missing.”

  “Why not?”

  “There were six fifty-dollar bills on the hall table. In plain sight. The assailant had to go past that table on his way into the family room. If he was going to take time to riffle through the judge’s jewelry box, why wouldn’t he pocket some easy cash?”

  Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “He could have taken some jewelry to make it appear robbery was the motive. If the cash wasn’t part of his plan, it might not have registered.”

  “That’s my take.”

  “Did the Crime Scene Unit find anything interesting?”

  “Not much. Our assailant got in through a basement window in the back that’s concealed by bushes. Taped it so it wouldn’t shatter, broke the glass, flipped the lock. The ground back there is hard as a rock, so he didn’t leave any footprints.”

  “What about fingerprints?”

  “A few on the window. And some on the jewelry box. The latter are probably the judge’s.” Cole leaned a shoulder against the wall and stuck his hands in his pockets. “We’re running them all through the FBI database.”

  “Have you talked to the neighbors?”

  “Yeah. No one saw or heard anything out of the ordinary. It’s like the guy materialized in the room, then vanished.”

  Jake expelled a frustrated breath. “We know that didn’t happen. What kind of security does the house have?”

  “A standard home-grade system. But it wasn’t activated at the time of the murder. According to the judge, she didn’t plan to be here more than six or eight months, and she didn’t see the need to enhance the existing system for such a short-term stay.”

  Silence fell between them as two words echoed in Jake’s mind.

  Big mistake.

  He’d been in the business long enough to know that even if this case was an extension of domestic violence unrelated to Liz, as it seemed to be, there were wackos out there who targeted high-profile judges. The security here should have been beefed up when she moved in—whether she thought it was necessary or not.

  But with everything else on her plate, the last thing she needed to do was start beating herself up about that.

  “Any word from Springfield?” Jake dug in his pocket, hoping to find a breath mint.

  “Nothing. Mr. Long was last seen by a neighbor around noon on Friday as he pulled out of his driveway. The local PD is watching the house, and they’ve put surveillance on his office. So far he hasn’t shown.”

  “Okay.” No luck on the breath mint. He withdrew his hand. “We’ll get Liz settled. Keep me in the loop.”

  “You got it.” Cole pushed off from the wall. “By the way, Alison said to tell you she forgives you for standing her up for your welcome-home dinner last week and the lasagna will keep, but did you ever hear of a telephone?”

  A grin tugged at Jake’s lips. He could picture his little sister uttering those very words, chin jutting out, pert nose stuck in the air. “That sounds like her.”

  “Yeah. Finally. She’s had a tough few months.” Cole narrowed his eyes. “How much did she tell you about the accident when she called you in Washington?”

  “The basics.” Jake mentally replayed the brief conversation he’d had with his sister a couple of days after he’d returned from Iraq, when he’d still been jet-lagged and trying to decompress. “I heard about the broken leg, and she mentioned some internal injuries. I chewed her out for not telling me sooner, but she claimed I was overreacting and said she was doing fine. When I pressed for more information, the best I could get was a promise of more details when I got back to St. Louis. She was much more interested in talking about her new puppy.”

  “That’s what I figured.” Cole raked his fingers through his hair. “Look, I agreed—under duress—not to say much until she has a chance to see you. But the truth is, she’s not doing fine. She was hurt a lot worse than she implied.”

  A knot formed in Jake’s stomach. “How much worse?”

  Several beats of silence ticked by as Cole regarded his brother. “We weren’t sure she was going to make it.”

  A jolt of shock ricocheted through him, followed by a surge of white-hot anger. “And no one told me?”

  “Alison’s orders. She didn’t want you worrying.”

  “I’m her big brother. That’s my job.”

  “Don’t let her hear you say that. Her independent streak is wider than ever. And much as she loves you, she has mixed feelings about you coming home. She’s afraid her accident is one of the reasons you suddenly decided to move back to St. Louis.”

  “It is. It was a wake-up call that I need to spend more time with my family. To be here for you guys.”

  “A word of warning—keep that tidbit to yourself if you want to preserve the peace. Alison even sent Mom packing back to Chicago, amid much maternal protest.”

  “Okay. So you tell me how’s she doing, since she obviously gave me the sanitized version.”

  “She’s made progress. But she still goes to therapy twice a week. The fractures in her leg are healing. I’m not so certain about the one in her heart.”

  Jake frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Sticking his hands in his pockets, Cole blew out a breath. “I’m getting in way too deep here. Alison will be furious if she finds out I spilled all this before she had a chance to talk to you.”

  “You’re in too far to back out now. Let’s have it.”

  “I take it she didn’t tell you about David.”

  “What about David?” Last he’d heard, things were heating up between his sister and the up-and-coming Legal Aid attorney she’d been dating. He’d assumed an engagement announcement was imminent.

  “He dumped her.”

  “What! Why?”

  “Because as a result of those internal injuries she casually mentioned to you, she can’t have children. And he wanted a family.”

  As he worked through that latest piece of news, Jake’s lips settled into a grim line. “What kind of man walks away from a woman because a drunk driver robbed her of the ability to have children?”

  “A jerk?”

  “I have a stronger word in mind. But better she saw his true character now than before they tied the knot.”

  “I’m sure she agrees with that assessment. In theory. Anyway, you might want to give her a call when you have five minutes.”

  “Like that’s going to happen anytime soon.” Jake shoved his fingers through his hair. “You know, I expected things to be quieter in St. Louis.”

  True to form, his brother had a smart comeback. “Maybe trouble just follows you around.” With a mock salute, he strolled toward the hall. “One of your guys made a coffee run. I think I’ll help myself. And when you talk to Alison, do me a favor. Don’t mention this conversation.”

  As Cole headed toward the muffled voices in the kitchen, Jake toyed with the idea of calling his sister now. But he’d rather be focused on her when they talked. And at the moment, he was preoccupied with the safety of a certain judge.

  Once Liz was ensconced in the condo and he was satisfied with the security measures, he’d go home for a few hours. Shower. Eat. Sleep. Then, after he was rested and thinking clearly, he’d call his sister. And instead of trying to convince her the accident wasn’t the main reason he’d returned to St. Louis, he’d give her serious grief for swearing Cole to secrecy about it until he was back from Iraq.

  Because as he’d learned the hard way, wi
th Alison the best defense was always a good offense.

  5

  ______

  Draining the dregs of his coffee, Jake checked his watch. Again.

  Liz was taking a lot longer than he’d expected with her shower and packing. Cole had left, and the deputy marshals lounging around her kitchen were getting restless.

  So was he.

  Setting the cup on the kitchen counter, he addressed the group. “I’ll see if I can speed things up. Let’s plan to head out in ten minutes.”

  Thirty seconds later, he knocked on her door. “Liz, it’s Jake. Everything okay in there?”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  He didn’t like her vague tone.

  “May I come in?”

  “Yes.”

  The woman sitting on the bed was a Liz he’d never before seen. She’d exchanged her usual power wardrobe for jeans and a black knit top, and her hair was still slightly damp, a few loose tendrils around her temples curling softly from the humidity in the bathroom. She was barefoot, one leg tucked under her, and her attention was fixed on the cell phone in her hand.

  It would have been an appealing picture. Except for her shell-shocked expression.

  He crossed the room in three long strides, noting as he covered the short distance that the tape on two of the sealed packing boxes had been pulled back, as if she’d rooted for some items to take with her. The two suitcases sitting at the end of the bed appeared to be packed.

  But she wasn’t making any move to leave.

  “Liz? What’s going on?”

  Without looking up, she blinked once. Twice. Again. “I’ve had my phone on mute. There are twenty-five voice mails since last night. I need to call my boss. Talk to my law clerks. Make funeral arrangements. Cancel some commitments. Get back to my landlord so he can send a plumber to fix the leaky faucet in the bathroom.” Panic seeped into her voice. Along with a touch of hysteria. “And I haven’t even checked my home machine yet.”

  She was on overload. Overwhelmed by the enormity of the decisions to be made and the details to be dealt with. Given enough stress, even competent, organized, in-control people like Liz Michaels had their limits.

  And she’d reached hers.

  Leaning down, he flipped the phone closed. “We’ll deal with all that once we get to the condo. And we’ll do whatever we can to help you.”

  She lifted her head, and the searing anguish in her eyes bridged the professional distance he was attempting to maintain. “Can you make this nightmare go away?”

  “I wish I could.” He swallowed past the sudden tightness in his throat.

  With one more look at her phone, she slid it into her purse. Took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. “Let me put on my shoes and I’ll be ready to leave.”

  She rose, walked to the open closet, and pulled a pair of casual shoes off of a rack.

  “Is this everything?” Jake gestured to the bags at the foot of the bed.

  “I’ll need my briefcase. And my laptop.”

  “Where are they?”

  “On the floor beside my desk in the office.”

  “I’ll get them. And the guys will load your suitcases in the car. Meet us in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

  Jake detoured to the office, found the briefcase and computer, and cracked the blinds on the front window as he passed. Two media vans were now parked in front of the house.

  Great.

  Back in the kitchen, he delegated bag duty to the two marshals who’d been waiting for them when they arrived—and issued a warning.

  “We’ve got company. Someone tipped off the press that we’re here.”

  Spence crumpled his cup and tossed it into an empty donut bag as the two men exited. “I heard from the coroner’s office a few minutes ago. No problem on the organ donation. You want me to call the hospital and pass the word?”

  “Yeah. I’ll let Liz know once she’s settled in at the condo.”

  “I’ll get the engine warmed up.” Dan disposed of his own cup and headed out the door.

  Three minutes later, as the two marshals returned from stowing the bags, Liz appeared in the doorway. She’d pulled a sweater over her head and carried a jacket over her arm. Meaning she’d have no more need of his.

  Stifling an unexpected surge of disappointment, Jake forced himself to switch gears as he addressed her. “We have some media out front, so we’re going to make a quick exit. Dan’s already in the car.”

  He took her arm, and the remaining men closed in tight around her.

  “It’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic.” She surveyed the circle of marshals.

  “Bear with us for two minutes. Once you’re in the car, you’ll have more breathing room.”

  At Jake’s signal, the group exited the front door and headed toward the Suburban.

  The instant they appeared, the quiet Saturday morning came to life. The media vans spewed out camera-toting technicians, and reporters waving microphones began calling out to Liz.

  Jake tightened his grip on her arm and glanced down. To his surprise, she didn’t seem fazed by the shouted questions and circus-like atmosphere.

  Then again, she’d been involved in some high-profile cases through the years. Doug had mentioned once that one of them had drawn national attention. She’d even been quoted in Newsweek. No doubt she’d had more than her share of exposure to the press.

  As she slid into the Suburban and he prepared to close the door, one of the young officers who’d been stationed at the perimeter of the property jogged over.

  “Excuse me, sir, but there’s a neighbor from across the street who’d like to talk to the judge. Delores Moretti.”

  “Delores is here?” Liz bobbed her head, trying to find an opening in the wall of men. “I’d like to see her. Jake?” She touched his arm.

  He hesitated. The exposed position wasn’t good. But it was hard to say no to her after all she’d been through. And as long as they formed a human shield, it should be okay. For sixty seconds.

  “This has to be quick.”

  “I understand.”

  “Okay.” Jake turned to the officer. “Let her come over.”

  The man walked a few feet away and motioned to a stout, gray-haired woman standing on the sidelines. She ducked under the police tape and trotted up the driveway.

  “What’s she holding?” Jake eyed the shallow aluminum container in her hands and directed his question to the officer.

  “Some kind of food.”

  Behind him, Jake heard a tiny, soft chuckle from Liz. “That would be Delores.”

  When the woman drew close, Jake spoke again. “Ma’am, we need to make this fast.”

  “This won’t take but a minute.”

  Stepping aside, Jake created a gap wide enough for the woman to squeeze through.

  During the brief exchange that followed, he did a continuous scan of the neighborhood, as did Spence beside him. But the conversation behind him was more interesting than the view in front of him.

  “Cannoli! Oh, Delores, you shouldn’t have bothered.”

  “It wasn’t any bother at all. Not that they’ll offer much consolation. But words are no good at a time like this. They won’t change what happened to your poor sister or take away your grief. So I did what I could. I went to church and lit a candle, and I said a rosary. Then I came home and made your favorite dessert. You know Harold and I are here for you if you need anything, Liz. All you have to do is call.”

  “I know, Delores. And I appreciate that more than I can say.”

  Jake felt the woman move behind him, and knew she’d leaned forward to give Liz a hug.

  “Don’t you worry about anything right now except keeping yourself safe. Just lay low until all this is over.”

  “I don’t think I have a choice in the matter. As you can see, I’m surrounded by U.S. marshals. Will you let Reverend Mike know I won’t be able to help at the shelter tomorrow night?”

  Jake frowned. Shelter?

  “I’
ll take care of it. And I’ll water all your plants too.”

  Surveying the porch, Jake noted the pots brimming with colorful blossoms that hadn’t yet succumbed to the cooling fall nights. There’d also been a bouquet on her kitchen table. Doug had never mentioned that Liz liked flowers.

  An elbow in his ribs clued him in that the meeting behind him was over, and he shifted aside to allow Delores to squeeze through.

  “Thank you, young man.” She dropped her voice. “And you take good care of her. She’s our special angel.”

  Angel?

  Based on Delores’s speculative appraisal, he hadn’t done a very good job hiding his surprise. “Do you know Liz very well, Marshal?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She lowered her voice. “We didn’t either, until she moved here four months ago. A week after we came over to welcome her to the neighborhood, Harold fell off a ladder and broke his wrist. Had to have surgery and couldn’t drive for three weeks. A few days after his accident, I sprained my ankle and couldn’t drive, either. Liz stepped right up to help us out, picking up our groceries and prescriptions, busy as she was.” Delores shook her head. “She is an amazing young woman. You keep her safe.”

  “We intend to, ma’am.”

  As Delores headed back down the driveway, Jake angled toward Liz. Buffered as she was by metal and bodies, he doubted she’d heard much, if any, of his low-pitched conversation with her neighbor. She was focused on the disposable container Delores had delivered, running her finger along the edge.

  “We’re ready to move out, Liz.”

  She lifted her head, and he caught the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “Sorry for the delay. But Delores is a treasure. I couldn’t not talk to her.”

  “No problem. I’ll see you when we get to the condo.”

  Closing the door, he turned to Spence. “Same formation?”

  “Unless you see a reason to change it.”

  “No. That works for me.” He shook hands with the two marshals who’d come to the house ahead of them to reinforce security. “Thanks, guys.”

  With a wave they headed toward their own vehicles.