by Andrew Grey
Clay closed the door on his way out and sat in one of the chairs in Eileen’s work area, where he called the station and asked for the sheriff. “Are there any updates on Harper Grange?” he asked as he got comfortable.
“He was spotted outside Newville and then again in Mechanicsburg. Each time, we were too late to pick him up. It looks like he’s trying to meet with some of his old contacts. Our guess is that he’s after money, but we aren’t sure,” Sheriff Hunter answered. “It looks like Briggs will be going home today, and Smith is recovering. It was touch and go for a while. He’s going to be out of work most likely for months, though.”
“At least he’s going to recover.” Clay could add Smith and his family to the list of people whose lives had been changed or ruined by his cousin. Indignation boiled in the pit of his belly. No one should be allowed to create that kind of havoc in other people’s lives.
“How are things with the judge? You two killed each other yet? I haven’t gotten any documentation about you being taken into custody, so I’m taking that as a good thing.”
“Ha-ha,” Clay retorted. “Actually, he and I are getting along pretty well. But I think His Honor has designs on my dog.”
“Your dog?” Sheriff Hunter asked.
“Yeah. We thought it better if the judge stayed at my place. It wasn’t like they’d expect him to be there,” Clay explained. “I called in a report. It seems Harper has the judge’s phone number.”
“Yeah, I saw that. We got nowhere, really. Probably a prepaid phone bought at Walmart or somewhere like that. No record of who has the number. The call seemed to originate from somewhere near Newville. We checked out the area and found nothing.” Sheriff Hunter seemed frustrated, not that Clay blamed him. “This guy is slipperier than a greased pig.”
“If I can make a suggestion… put some pressure on his mother. She’s the one person he isn’t going to turn his back on if he can help it at all. My aunt has always been a little flaky and has a blind spot the size of the state when it comes to her son. I can almost guarantee he’ll call her at some point. And I suggest you send someone to talk to my mother, Debbie Brown.” He gave the sheriff her address and phone number.
“Why don’t you talk to her?” Sheriff Hunter asked.
“Because I’m her son and she isn’t going to listen to anything I tell her. She’ll think I’m being dramatic or chalk it up to some weird family dynamic.” Clay sighed. “If Harper has contacted his mother, she’s likely to tell my mother, because those two try to outdo each other every chance they get. Nothing makes either of them happier than to get something over on or better than the other. They’re weird that way.”
Sheriff Hunter practically snorted. “Your mother is weird. Remember, I had some of that so-called fruitcake she brought in last Christmas.”
Clay hadn’t been aware that she was bringing something in and returned from a call to find the remains of it in the breakroom. He’d been mortified and threw it away, hoping no one got ill.
“My mother still insists that tomatoes and cucumbers are, in actuality, fruit.” At least his boss could laugh about it now. No one had been laughing then. “And please have someone tell my mother that I’m undercover or something and that she isn’t to try to contact or see me. That I’ll contact her when I can.”
“What the hell for?” Sheriff Hunter groused. “I’m not your social secretary.”
“I know. But if my mother comes to my home and sees the judge here, she will tell my aunt because she can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life where my aunt is concerned.” His family was totally off the wall, and what scared him half the time was how well he understood how all this crap worked. Sometimes he thought it meant he was as crazy as they were.
“Got it. Is there anything else?” Sheriff Hunter sounded impatient, and Clay figured he had a million things to do.
“No. I’ll let you know if anything else develops.”
“Good.” The sheriff ended the call, and Clay shoved his phone into his pocket. He hated the fact that he’d basically thrown his mother under the bus with his boss, but they needed to get Harper back into custody. He was hiding out somewhere, and his own mother could be the link to finding him. This situation was most definitely turning into a mess, with him walking a family tightrope. He hoped the damn thing didn’t break.
“Morning, deputy,” Eileen said as she entered the office, set her purse under her desk, and got the coffeepot brewing. “I’ll make some extra for you.”
“Thank you.” Clay turned as Andrew emerged from his office, with Petey following him.
“I see we have a visitor,” Eileen said as Petey went right up to her, sat down, and peered at her, tilting his head slightly. Eileen finished with the coffee before petting him. “Where did you come from?”
“He’s Clay’s dog, and he’s been spending his days alone because Clay’s here, so we brought him in.”
Then Andrew and Eileen went over the day’s activities, and Clay sat, taking the mug of coffee when it was offered. Basically, he didn’t have much to do and ended up watching Andrew as he moved through his early-morning activities and appointments.
Clay had thought that Andrew would be an impatient man in general, but that wasn’t the case, judging by the way he helped some of the young attorneys who came in that morning. He took his time as he explained what he expected on his court filings, even when he presented the same information to a second attorney not ten minutes later.
“He’s really something,” Eileen said, following his gaze.
“I always thought he was kind of a… jerk,” Clay admitted in a whisper.
Eileen chuckled. “He can be in court, let me tell you. It’s his courtroom, and he’ll conduct things in the way he sees as right. There’s no other way to describe it. Once he sits behind that bench, he’s a different person and it’s all business… period. He’s very dedicated to his job.”
“I guess I see that,” Clay said, his gaze once again settling on Andrew as he finished up his tutorial. Clay didn’t see Petey and hoped he was lying quietly in his bed. He didn’t want him disrupting the office, considering that Andrew had been nice enough to offer to let him come in.
“Court will start in ten minutes,” Eileen said, and Clay went on through to check out the room and the waiting areas outside. A few people had filtered in, but no one who seemed suspicious. Still, he took his place at the back of the room and settled in for the morning.
“COURT IS adjourned,” Andrew said that afternoon, with a touch of relief in his voice, and headed back to his office.
Clay’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and took the call from the sheriff’s office switchboard. “Deputy Brown.”
“This is Grace. We just received a call from Carlisle PD about some activity at Judge Phillips’s home. They are responding, but I thought I should alert you as well since you’re with him and all.”
“Thanks for letting me know.”
Clay’s heart beat faster as he ended the call and looked around the emptying courtroom as he headed down the center aisle toward the back. He walked right into Andrew’s chambers. An attorney sat opposite Andrew at his desk, and Andrew looked up at Clay, fire in his eyes. Clay knew he was about to scold him for barging in. “Sir, I need to speak to you now.”
Andrew waved him away.
“We have an issue with your writ of habeas corpus.” Clay tried to make the use of the word seem as normal as possible.
Andrew paled and stood, excusing himself.
Clay motioned him back into the courtroom, standing close to Andrew. “The police are on their way to your house. I don’t have details. Finish your meeting and we’ll go once the police make sure the house is safe.”
“All right,” Andrew said with surprising calmness, but the tension in his body gave him away. He took a deep breath and went back in his office.
Clay sat outside until the attorney left, staying in contact with his colleagues at the house, then gave Andre
w a few minutes to finish up and opened the door. He went on through as Andrew spoke to Eileen in a rush.
“Will you watch Petey? Clay and I have to go.” Andrew grabbed his jacket and took off, with Clay right behind him. Once Andrew was in the car, Clay flipped on his lights and took off out of the parking lot, racing through town, and turned onto Andrew’s street, where multiple cars were parking outside his home.
The front door stood open, and Andrew was out of the car and up the steps before Clay got his door closed behind him. Clay hurried after him and caught him just inside.
The mess in the hall stopped them both. Papers, glass, and broken pieces of clay littered the floor. Hooks stuck out of the wall where the pictures had hung, now reduced to shards and scraps of wood.
“It doesn’t look like they got very far,” Carter said as he turned around, speaking to Andrew. “You seem to have excellent neighbors. They called us right away and made plenty of noise.” He consulted his notes. “Your neighbor said she saw a man race out through the backyard.”
“Judge Phillips,” Red said from the end of the hall. “It seems the damage is confined to the hallway and dining room.”
Andrew’s shoulders slumped as he picked his way down the hall, gasping as he peered in. Clay followed, looking over Andrew’s shoulder at the carnage left behind. Everything glass had been smashed. It looked as though someone had taken a broom to the crystal chandelier, smashing it as well, the remnants still hanging in broken pieces from the ceiling.
Andrew stood stock-still and then turned around. “The candle holders on the table were my grandmother’s,” he said softly. Their bases lay on the floor, the only recognizable remnants.
“Let’s go into the living room so Red and Carter can get the information they need,” Clay offered, and Andrew went with him. They did their best not to step on anything, and thankfully that room was free of damage.
“Why would anyone do this to me? I don’t understand. Sure, people might not be happy with me when I send them to jail. But it isn’t personal—it’s the law and my job. It isn’t my fault that they did what they did.” Andrew sat on the sofa, and Clay sat next to him. He wanted to take Andrew in his arms and hold him, try to comfort away some of the violation and loss that he knew Andrew was feeling, but Clay wasn’t sure it would be welcome. “And….” Andrew motioned around. “They broke the only things I had from my grandmother. They weren’t fancy, but they were hers.” He wiped his eyes, and Clay thought, To hell with it, drawing Andrew into a hug.
“I don’t have anything to say that will make it all right. I can’t bring back what you lost.” He looked over Andrew’s shoulder, wishing he could make this right. Andrew hugged him in return, his heat surrounding Clay, and Clay inhaled, taking in his sweet, rich scent. This wasn’t the time for stuff like that, but he couldn’t help noticing. “The important thing is that you’re all right.”
“I suppose.” Andrew pulled away, and Clay let him, sitting back on the deep blue sofa as Red and Carter came in the room. He blinked and motioned toward the other chairs.
“Your neighbor’s description is dead-on for Harper Grange.” Red turned toward the house to the west.
“Corky is always home and a one-lady neighborhood watch. If anything unusual happens, she knows it,” Andrew said, wiping his eyes. “Did she make the call?”
“Yes. She said she heard someone breaking in, so it seems he kicked the front door in and wasn’t making any effort to cover up what he was doing,” Red explained. “I think he wanted you to know he was here and could get in. She said he simply ran out after a few minutes, and then she heard the police sirens a short time after.”
“So this was just to try to get to me?” Andrew half asked, half stated, and all three of them nodded. That was plain enough to Clay as well.
“He seems to have a real grudge against you,” Clay said. “He’s not going after anyone else involved in locking him up.” He held Andrew’s gaze, watching as he steeled his chin and met his eyes straight on. Clay got the feeling he was about to be lied to in a huge way, and he stared right back with his best “don’t you dare” lip curl. He didn’t turn away until Andrew did, and then he glanced at Red and Carter. They both nodded.
Red cleared his throat. “I’m going to call this in and get someone over here to repair and secure the front door. Judge Phillips, you should call your insurance company.” He excused himself and left with Carter.
Clay sat still, looking at Andrew. “What is it you’re trying to keep secret?” It was obvious that Andrew had something eating at him.
“I saw Harper once… here in town, before the first trial. He didn’t know who I was, and I’d never seen him before….” Andrew closed his eyes. “It was at the park out Walnut Bottom Road to the west of town. I love that park, and it isn’t used a lot, so I’d go for walks there. It’s just three blocks or so from the house.”
Clay swallowed hard as he waited.
“I think your cousin is gay and doesn’t want anyone to know. I saw him climbing out of the bushes toward the back of the park.” Andrew lowered his gaze and clenched his hands. “Damn you for making me talk about this.” Anger rose in Andrew’s eyes.
“You need to help us help you, and we can’t do that unless we know everything.” Clay kept his voice gentle and calm, hoping to have that effect on Andrew. “None of us is going to judge you. That’s your job, remember?” Clay tried for a little humor, and Andrew’s lips curled upward momentarily.
“I didn’t realize what I was seeing at first, and then another man came out behind him. They were adjusting their belts….”
“You caught Harper Grange in Pickup Park?” Clay asked. “At dusk that place is pretty notorious.” It was patrolled regularly because everyone in law enforcement knew about it. Not that anyone on either force was interested in hauling people in, just curtailing the behavior.
“I didn’t know at the time. Harper nearly ran me over and then tried to intimidate me. I looked him over with an ‘I know what you were doing’ look before turning and walking away. I never said anything, but then a little while later, he ended up in my court for his arraignment, and—”
“He recognized you and knew that you were aware of his secret,” Clay said and took a deep breath. “Dang, I never would have expected my cousin would let another guy within ten feet of his privates.” He narrowed his gaze. “So you think Harper is gay.”
“I think he’s psychotic, and part of that is a distorted sense of who he is. It’s possible that Harper is so conflicted that he yearns for sex with men, then hates himself for it. And I found out about it, and he hates me for that.” Andrew sighed. “In court he tried to threaten me… in a sidebar he tried to turn things back toward me to say that I was there for the same reason he was.” Andrew’s color grew by the second.
“You weren’t,” Clay said, knowing it deep down. “That isn’t something you’d ever do.” How he was so sure was a bit of a mystery.
“You believe me,” Andrew said softly, stating a fact, and Clay nodded.
“I do. And that says so much about my cousin.” Harper was even more off the deep end than Clay had thought.
“Yeah, I suppose it does. But it says something about me too. I didn’t want anyone to know about me. That I was g-gay,” Andrew stammered. “I didn’t want it to be a distraction. After Judge Crawford and everything he was doing, I didn’t want there to be a spotlight on another judge in the county, and….” Andrew sighed. “I didn’t want to deal with it in my work. It shouldn’t matter if I’m gay or not. Robert Fortier is gay, and that isn’t a big deal for most people—I know that.”
“It isn’t a big deal. Red and Carter both have husbands. So does Pierre. I don’t have a husband yet, but I’m not in the closet. This isn’t the sixties, even though there are people in the county who would wish it was.” Clay took Andrew’s hand. “You have the right to live your life. You’re a good judge.” God, he never thought he’d be the one saying that. “And you’r
e fair….”
“If a little snippy sometimes.”
“I won’t argue with you.” Clay smiled and chuckled. “You do good work for the people of this county, and you deserve to be as happy as anyone else.” He wanted to lean closer and taste those full pink lips, but this wasn’t the time. He was on duty. On top of that, they were in Andrew’s burgled house, and… his timing royally sucked. “Give yourself a break.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” Andrew stood, pulling away, and wandered to the hall, looking at the chaos.
“No, it wasn’t. I had to make the same journey you did. I had to come to grips with the fact that I’m a gay cop. But I was lucky, just like you, because others paved the way, including the two officers who are making themselves scarce right now but probably listening to everything we’re saying.” Clay spoke louder and received no response, but Red did come in a few minutes later.
“The security company is on their way to fix the door, and we took photographs for evidence. I’ll send you a report so you can get your insurance company working on your claim.” Red approached slowly. “You know as well as I do that if this was done by Harper Grange, he isn’t going to come up with the money to pay for it. He’ll be broke, and the courts can order him to do anything they’d like, but he isn’t going to have an income of any reasonable kind for a lot of years.”
Andrew nodded. “I appreciate the help. When do you think I’ll be able to clean up this mess?” He wandered into the living room and absently sat down.
“Tomorrow. I’m going to want to get people over here to see what we can learn. Clay can take your fingerprints and pass them on to us so we can eliminate yours. Then maybe we’ll get lucky. If it’s him, it will be another piece of evidence to use against him.” Red sat on the edge of the chair across from him. “I know this is hard, judge.”
“Andrew, please.”
“This is damn hard for anyone. No one ever wants to feel like a victim. Clay, me, Carter, we see this every day. Don’t let it get you down. This guy is off his rocker, and he’s fixated on you. But—and I mean this—you are better off staying away from here. If you’d been here alone when he was here… things could have been much worse.” Red stood back up.