Fatal Judgment

by Irene Hannon

  “The EMTs are seconds away.” Todd dropped to one knee beside Liz and pressed his fingers against her neck. “I’m picking up a pulse.” Cutting off the gag, he leaned down and put his cheek close to her mouth. “And she’s still breathing.”

  For the first time in his professional career, Jake’s composure shattered. Tears streamed down his cheeks while Todd made short work of the restraints binding Liz’s wrists and ankles, but he could no longer blame them on the smoke. At some peripheral level, he was aware of the buzz of activity around him. But all that registered in his consciousness was Liz. Her face was battered, and the restraints had left deep abrasions on her wrists and ankles. But she was alive.

  Leaning over, he eased the gray wig off her head. Her blonde hair spilled out, and he fingered the silky strands. Stroked her cheek.

  Thank you, God!

  “Sir, we need to get in there.”

  The EMTs nudged him aside none too gently, and as he stood he heard the sound of the medevac helicopter’s rotors in the distance.

  “You need to get your arm checked out.”

  Todd’s comment barely registered, and he aimed a distracted frown over his shoulder. “What?”

  “Your arm. You’ve got a bad burn back there.”

  “It’ll keep.” Dismissing his own injury, he refocused on Liz.

  “There’s no reason they can’t work on you while they work on her.”

  Before he could protest, Todd waved over a third EMT. “Take a look at that.” He gestured toward the back of Jake’s arm.

  Irritated, he turned to his SOG teammate. “Let it go, okay?”

  The EMT was already poking at him. “Looks like a second-degree burn. If you’ll sit on that rock over there, I’ll be able to do a better job of treating it.”

  “I’m not moving.”

  “Fine.” Todd pressed him down with a firm hand on his good shoulder. “Sit here.”

  Normally Jake would have jerked away and told the other marshal to back off. But for some reason, the stiffening in his legs gave out. Capitulating, he sank to his knees and sat back on his heels again, staying within touching distance of Liz.

  As the EMT cut away his sleeve and went to work, he blocked out the pain in his arm and focused on the clipped conversation between the technicians treating Liz. They’d already put an oxygen mask over her nose, taken her blood pressure, and were trying without much success to start an IV. But he was picking up some words he didn’t like.

  Shock.

  Dehydration.

  CO poisoning.

  All at once one of the technicians began cutting off her sweater.

  “What’s wrong?” He jerked forward, and the EMT working on him muttered a startled “hey.” He ignored him.

  “We can’t get good vitals through all these clothes.”

  As the man sliced through her sweatshirt, then her sweater, the bottom edge of her shirt rode up.

  Revealing a mass of black and blue.

  Jake sucked in a sharp breath.

  The EMT paused for a moment to do a quick inspection. “We’ve got some possible broken ribs. Maybe internal damage.” Dispensing with the sweater, he fitted the stethoscope into his ears and listened to her heart.

  The paramedic finally got the IV going. Only to deliver more bad news.

  “We need to intubate.”

  The second technician looked up. “Airway edema?”

  “Yeah.” Even as he replied, the other man was pulling out a plastic-wrapped package and ripping it open. Withdrawing a tube, he fed it into Liz’s nose and down her throat, then attached the oxygen.

  “What’s wrong?” Jake was vaguely aware that the EMT dealing with his arm had gone back to work.

  “The airway seems to be swelling. We don’t want it to close up.”

  He rested a hand on Liz’s leg. “Will she . . .” His voice rasped, and he cleared his throat. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “I hope so.”

  The man’s noncommittal response did nothing to alleviate the fear churning in his gut.

  The paramedics from the medevac helicopter arrived, and as the two emergency medical teams exchanged notes and prepared to transfer Liz, Jake stood. Todd materialized next to him.

  “I’m going on the helicopter.” Jake kept his gaze fixed on Liz.

  “I am too. This protection detail isn’t over yet.”

  “Yeah.” Jake pressed his lips into a grim line. “Like we’ve done such a great job.”

  The team from the helicopter lifted Liz, and Jake started to follow.

  “Hey! I’m not done yet!” Another protest from the EMT working on his arm.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “At least let me put this on.” He held up a gauze pad.

  Jake kept an eye on the group approaching the helicopter. “Ten seconds.”

  The EMT slapped it on and taped it in place. “Have them finish up at the hospital.”

  “Right. Thanks.”

  As he jogged to catch up with Liz, Todd fell in beside him. A moment later they passed the group of rocks where Reynolds had taken his last stand. He lay where he’d fallen, sprawled on the ground, his body twisted at an awkward angle.

  Jake gave him no more than a passing glance.

  Usually he felt at least a twinge of remorse when they had to take someone out. He respected the sanctity of life. Even a misguided life.

  But as he passed Reynolds, he felt nothing but enmity. And relief.

  Every breath, every movement, hurt.

  But the pain had lessened a bit.

  Why?

  Liz opened her eyes. Frowned. There was some kind of mask over her nose, obstructing her vision. She tried to lift her arm to pull it away, but a sharp pain stopped her. Repositioning her head, she squinted toward her elbow. But her eyes weren’t focusing very well. Nor was her brain hitting on all cylinders.

  “It’s okay, Liz. Lay still. You’re going to be fine.”

  A voice that sounded a lot like Jake’s came from her other side. Except it was much deeper than usual. And not quite steady.

  A warm hand engulfed hers in a gentle grip, and she turned her head.

  It was, indeed, Jake. Though it didn’t look much like him. Crevices lined his haggard face, dark circles hung beneath his lower lashes, and there was a streak of soot on his cheek.

  She tried to speak, but only a croak came out.

  “Just relax, Liz. Don’t try to talk. You’ll be hoarse for a while from the smoke. You’re safe now. In the hospital.”

  Smoke. Hospital.

  All at once, the memories came rushing back. The abduction. The cabin. The fire. Her surrender to her fate.

  Yet somehow she’d survived.

  And she had a strong suspicion her rescue had been orchestrated by the man standing beside her. The man whose arm was sporting a large white bandage where his long-sleeved black T-shirt had been cut away.

  Tugging her hand free of his, she pointed to the dressing and raised her eyebrows.

  He dismissed her silent question with a shrug. “It’s a small burn. I’m fine.” Leaning close, he stroked her cheek, his touch oh-so-gentle, his velvet brown eyes tender and filled with caring, warmth—and an emotion far deeper than mere affection.

  Maybe she’d died and gone to heaven after all.

  A nurse appeared at his elbow and leaned over to look at her. “You’re awake. That’s good. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how’s the pain?”

  Liz flashed five fingers, then three.

  “Okay. We can give you some more meds.”

  As the nurse worked with the IV, Liz reached for Jake’s hand again. Her voice was gone, but she wanted him to know that the emotion she’d seen in his eyes matched the one in her heart.

  The world began to swim as the pain medicine kicked in, but before she gave in to it, before she let sleep claim her, she thought she heard him whisper four beautiful words.

  “Tomorrow is ours, Liz.”

  Three
hours later, when Mark stuck his head into the door of Liz’s room, Jake rose and met him on the threshold.

  “How is she?” The FBI agent glanced toward the bed.

  “She’s had a battery of tests, from chest X-ray to blood count to something called a bronchoscopy. There doesn’t seem to be any serious damage. If we’d been even sixty seconds later, though . . .” His voice choked.

  “But we weren’t. Thank God.”

  “I’ve been doing that all afternoon.”

  “Good plan. I stopped by to check on the judge, but I also wanted to let you know that our ERT technicians found some interesting things around the cabin. Another fingernail. A small ball of tissue by the chair that contains blood I’d wager belongs to Judge Michaels. And in the outhouse—a third fingernail and several strands of blonde hair coiled into a ball and tucked into a corner.”

  Liz had done her best to leave them clues. To plant evidence so her kidnapper could be brought to justice, whether she survived or not. Jake shook his head, awed but not surprised. “That sounds like Liz.”

  Mark cast an admiring glance her way. “She’s quite a woman.”

  “No argument there.”

  Spence joined them, and after getting his own update on Liz’s condition, he squinted at Jake. “You need to go home and sleep.”

  “What is it with you and Todd? I think you both have a latent mother hen complex.”

  “Okay. Fine. Keel over from fatigue. Then we can get you admitted too.”

  Mark chuckled and extended his hand to Jake. “I’ll leave you two to sort this out.”

  Taking the man’s fingers in a firm clasp, Jake gave him a steady look. “Thank you for everything.”

  “All part of the job.” He nodded toward Liz. “And on the personal front—good luck.”

  One corner of Jake’s mouth lifted. It was the closest thing to a smile he’d been able to manage since her abduction. “Thanks.”

  As Mark headed down the hall, Spence propped one shoulder against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. “We have kind of an interesting situation. Reynolds’s sister is here. Has been for the past two hours. She wants to talk to Liz.”

  Jake’s lips settled into a grim line. “No way.”

  “I figured you’d say that. But here’s the thing. We checked her out, and she’s totally on the up-and-up. A model citizen. Churchgoer. Dedicated teacher. Peace Corps volunteer. She’s very distressed about what her brother did and wants to apologize.”

  Liz stirred, and Jake angled toward the room. “She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need some stranger crying on her shoulder.”

  “You could ask, anyway. It ought to be her decision, don’t you think?”

  Yeah, he did. But he also wanted to protect her from any more emotional trauma.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right here.”

  Closing the door, Jake returned to Liz’s side. A few seconds later her eyelids fluttered open.

  “I feel like a truck hit me.” She rasped out the words in a husky voice he didn’t recognize.

  “Close enough.” He took her hand. It felt right in his. Like that was where it belonged. “But all the tests indicate you’ll be fine. Once your two cracked ribs and all those bruises heal, that is. You may be stuck with that sultry voice for a while, though.”

  “Sultry, huh?” She managed a small smile. “That’s an adjective that’s never been applied to me before. So why are you still here? You look exhausted.”

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “Trying to get rid of me, huh?”

  “You need to go home and sleep.”

  Tenderness tightened his throat. “Later.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “You’re one stubborn man, you know that?”

  “I’ve been called worse.” A grin tugged at his lips.

  Hers twitched in response. “I’ll bet. Okay, if you’re going to stay, why don’t you fill me in on what happened?”

  “How about later? When you’re feeling better.”

  “How about now?”

  “And you’re calling me stubborn?”

  She made a face at him. “Get used to it.”

  He gave her a slow, warm smile. “I think I’d like that.”

  Her eyes widened, but rather than give her time to dwell on his comment, he launched into a quick, top-line recap.

  When he finished, twin furrows creased her brow. “There was no way to get to me without taking Reynolds down?”

  “No.” He squeezed her hand, and his jaw hardened. “It was you or him, Liz. And that was no contest. He doesn’t deserve one ounce of sympathy.”

  “It sounds like he had a lot of bad breaks in his life.”

  “That doesn’t condone murder.” His tone was flat. Cold. “He killed your sister. And he almost succeeded in killing you.”

  “I know.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, and he softened his voice. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so blunt. But I have no sympathy for the guy.”

  “It’s okay.” She blinked and swallowed. “I feel the same way. And I’m struggling with that. We’re supposed to love our enemies. But I can’t even contemplate forgiveness at this point, let alone love.”

  “That’s understandable.” More than. Personally, he doubted he’d ever get past the hate.

  She played with the edge of the sheet. “Did he have a family?”

  “One sister.” He gave her a few facts about the woman.

  “Does she know what happened?”

  “Yes.” He hesitated. Spence was right. This was Liz’s decision. “Actually, she’s here at the hospital. Hoping to see you. To apologize, I think. Spence says she’s pretty broken up about the whole thing.”

  Liz caught her lower lip between her teeth, her expression uncertain.

  “You don’t have to talk to her.”

  “I know. But maybe I should. Maybe I can find the route to forgiveness through her.”

  “Don’t count on it.” He gave her a skeptical look.

  “It’s worth a try, though. Let her come in, Jake.”

  Not at all certain she was making the right decision, Jake moved to the door. Spence was still outside. Still on protective duty.

  “She says she’ll talk to the sister.”

  “Take over for a minute while I get her, okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jake stayed by the door, one eye on the hall, one on Liz. Her generosity blew him away. Despite being battered and traumatized, she was trying to follow the dictates of her faith. And setting an example he wasn’t sure he could live up to.

  Two minutes later, Spence appeared with Patricia Reynolds. The woman was dressed as she had been earlier, but her complexion had lost all its color, and grief had strained her features, pulling her mouth into a taut line.

  When they drew near, Jake turned toward Liz. “She’s here. But it’s not too late to change your mind.”

  Although her fingers bunched the sheet, she shook her head.

  Stepping aside, he ushered Patricia in and motioned Spence to the other side of the bed. He wasn’t letting the woman out of arm’s reach.

  Patricia’s face crumpled as she looked down at Liz. “Oh my!” The appalled words were breathed more than spoken. “They told me you were badly hurt, but I had no idea . . .” Her fingers flexed on her purse, and her knuckles turned white. “I’m so sorry for everything, Judge Michaels. I just wanted you to know that. And to tell you Marty wasn’t always like this. He used to be a fine, responsible, caring man.”

  She started to open her purse, and Jake’s hand shot out to stop her.

  “We already checked it, Jake.”

  At Spence’s quiet comment, he withdrew his hand.

  Patricia pulled out a snapshot and held it up for Liz to see. “This is him and his wife ten years ago. Working at a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving. They used to do a lot of that kind of thing, he and Helen.” She blinked as she studied the photo, then tucked it
back in her purse. “But something inside him must have broken. I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize that in time to save you from . . . this.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek, and she covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a sob.

  Jake saw a matching tear well in Liz’s eye.

  “It’s not your fault, Ms. Reynolds. People change.” Liz’s hoarse reassurance scratched its way past her throat. “It happens. Sometimes there’s nothing we can do to save them—no matter how strong our love is.”

  She was thinking of Doug, Jake knew. He could see the remnants of regret pooled in her jade-colored irises. Along with sympathy for this woman’s grief, born of personal experience.

  “Thank you.” Patricia fished a tissue out of her purse.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “I think I lost Marty a long time ago.” She wiped her nose, took a breath, and straightened her shoulders. “My prayers will be with you for a quick recovery.”

  “And mine will be with you.”

  With a dip of her head, Patricia walked out the door. Spence followed, closing it behind him.

  In the quiet that followed, Jake twined his fingers with Liz’s. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  She gave him a sad smile. “Far from it. I’ve made way too many mistakes in my life.”

  “Haven’t we all? But I stand by what I said.”

  She squeezed his hand. And held tight. “I guess your job is finished here, isn’t it?”

  He nodded, trying to read her eyes. “We’ll hang around until you’re released. But yeah, after that, the protection detail will end.”

  Her fingers played with the edge of the sheet. “You said once that when this was over you’d like to see . . . to stay in touch.”

  Jake heard the trepidation in her endearingly wistful tone. Felt it in the anxious grip of her hand. “I still feel the same way. How about you?”

  Her gaze locked on his. “Yes. Very much.”

  Warmth—and hope—filled his heart.

  Smiling, he bent down until he was a mere whisper away, her breath soft on his cheek. “I was hoping you’d say that. Because I have plans for us.”